> Outmaneuvered > by Karrakaz > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > An Unaware Princess is... > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I step into my room with a long drawn out sigh and gratefully sink into the soft embrace that is my bed, letting the events of the day play out in my mind. Lamenting court proceedings is not something I do often. It is an integral part of Equestria’s government and the world would be a poorer place without it; but there are times where I would like to go back in time and slap myself for making it a reality. Court means endless feuding over matters like land and possessions, essentially making me both an arbiter and an unwilling spectator in the nobles infuriating games of power. And then there's the fact that holding court means having to make promises, and keeping promises invariably means keeping secrets. As such, secrecy has become all but second nature, which makes it harder, rather than easier like you would expect. There are a thousand and one state secrets that I have to keep track of, and many more personal secrets that ponies confide to me in. On any given day, I deal with at least three separate events where I’m tempted to reveal one of them. Generally in the hope that it might improve somepony’s life, or put a stop to some tragedy or other I know might be avoided. Yet none of them ever pass my lips for fear of giving away too much. It is very much a slippery slope which may prove fatal for ponies’ trust, or even lives, if I don’t tread carefully. If I were to act simply by what I would like for the world to be a lot of things would change, and sadly, not all for the better. Whenever I deliberate on that, my thoughts inevitably turn to the 'secrets' about myself. As a public figure and ruler of a country, ponies often know more about my life than they do about their next door neighbours. Most any newspaper contains some reference to me or other, and some have even dedicated entire sections of their weekly distribution to my long... storied... history. And that is precisely the problem. They are, more often than not, stories. Hyperbolic tales with little, if any, connection to reality. Even so, several of the things I would rather have kept a secret from becoming public knowledge leak out this way. There have been instances where reporters stumble onto one of them by coincidence or find a kernel of truth in their never ending speculation; like my admitted weakness for cake. It’s true. I do have a wicked sweet tooth. Between the most talented cooks in the country being employed by the castle, and an eternally immaculate figure; I simply can’t resist having a slice, or even a whole cake, or pie, or whatever else they put in front of me. Unlike secrets, too much cake has never caused me any problems. And it’s not as though it really matters, my medical staff considers my metabolism to be something of a miracle. A half remembered smile ghosts past my lips when I remember that one of my doctors privately asked where I put it all, and I jokingly asked him if he thought I was solar-powered in turn. Regardless, it was quite the scandal the first time ponies found out about it, and every so many hundred years they forget, and it becomes a scandal all over again. A never ending cycle of controversy that I’m sad to say I’ve learned to live with. Or perhaps ambivalence is the more apt descriptor... There are other secrets, of course, to which only those closest to me are privy. Like the fact that I do not, in fact, work every single moment of every single day. Or that I don’t always immediately have the solution to every single problem that crops up in the kingdom. Though keeping most ponies ignorant of that fact is often a deliberate choice that helps keep stability. Or, and perhaps most importantly, the one I’ve managed to keep to myself up until now: The fact that I have a burgeoning relationship with a beautiful young Alicorn who also happens to be a former student. And when I say ‘burgeoning relationship’, I mean that she has started making trips back to Canterlot at least once a week to see me. Unfortunately, we haven’t seen nearly as much of each other as I have hoped for. Spending time with Twilight was precious to me since long before I would have allowed her name and 'marefriend' in the same thought, and it has only become more important to me since. I never thought twice about giving up what little time I would have had to myself, if the alternative was spending it with her, and now I find myself longing for her every night she isn’t here. Stars, it sounds so young and foolish. Even now that I should have a chance at some time off— given that my marefriend does her share of the paperwork— I don’t nearly get as much time curled up against her as I would like. The problem, as ever, lies with those I am responsible for. Even when I do manage to get ahead of my schedule, ponies always seem to find more work somewhere. The snuggling is wondrous when it does happen, however, and I keep finding myself wondering how I lived without it. Alas, this week’s ‘lesson on statecraft’ was a failure from the time I rose the sun and Twilight has gone back to Ponyville to care for Spike and spend some time with her friends. Worse still, she won’t return for a fortnight due to an obligation of her own. The last kind of secrets, the ones I keep wholly to myself, are of no particular import to anypony but myself; and I would have preferred it had stayed that way. Like the fact that I can’t dance with any sort of proficiency outside of the ballroom dances that are so very vital to political dealings, or the well hidden fact that— A surprised chortle escapes me when a smattering of feathers trails along my barrel, followed immediately by a very naughty voice whispering in my ear: “Hello, Princess...” Twilight’s voice is unmistakeable, and from the way she’s purring one could almost assume her to be the cat that ate the canary. I don’t shock easily, but Twilight appearance in my chambers does take me aback. It seems she hasn’t left after all. “Weren’t you supposed to go home?” I ask, despite myself, looking at her over my shoulder. Nothing would please me more than to have her with me tonight, yet at the same time, I can’t help but think of Spike. I have to stop myself from shaking my head. That’s a lie. It’s not Spike I’m worried about. Not in the least. Twilight repeats her tantalizing feather-duster impression which derails my train of thought. Stars if only she’d never found out. “I got a letter from Spike asking if he could go on a trip with Applejack’s family. Apparently Big Macintosh has tickets for a hoofball game in Manehatten,” comes the reply, followed by Twilight rubbing her cheeks against my croup. “I said ‘yes’, if you’re wondering.” My tail twitches, sending the hairs billowing everywhere. It’s one of the downsides of having hair that constantly moves as a magic release mechanism; hard to control at the best of times. Even having known her as long as I do, it still amazes me how inventive Twilight can be when she puts her mind to it. Especially in the realm of seduction, where I know for a fact all of her knowledge came out of a book. No matter how theoretical her knowledge however, she somehow knows how to put it into practice with the same intuitive understanding she shows in magic. When she crawls upwards and leans in to plant a kiss on the nape of my neck, I very nearly swoon - tsk, I do swoon, no need to hide it here.. I let myself roll over onto my back, implicitly giving Twilight permission do what she wants while only wishing she’d continue with what she's doing. Another sigh escapes me when she makes good on her equally implicit promise, her exploratory kisses raining down on my coat like... rain. It is surprisingly hard to be eloquent when you have your marefriend treating you to sensations you never knew you wanted until you are subjected to them. I do manage another question, but only after a few minutes of enjoying myself, and another few in which I gather my wits. "Did you have a good day?" Twilight's climbed onto my chest, and her response is hard to make out through the nuzzling act she’s engaged in. The gist of it is simple enough, however: "I missed you." I can’t blame her. She specifically came to Canterlot today to see me, only to be saddled with my excess duties while I tried to calm down a dispute between two nobles. A fruitless effort on all counts. Her disappointment that her trip was a waste must have been as palpable and heartbreaking as it was adorable. Sadly I wasn’t there to see it, but such is the way of things at times. Noblesse oblige, or whatever that infuriating phrase is that they bandy about when they want me to listen to their inanities is. Before we started ‘dating’, I never would have thought it possible that Twilight of all ponies could be as enticing as a succubus. And though she almost plays me like a flute in the hooves of a virtuoso, the occasional hesitation or caught breath merely makes it transparent that she is still Twilight underneath all of her technique. She makes up for it by being twice as ferocious after every little pause, however, so I can’t say I really mind. What I do very much mind, is being teased. Don't get me wrong, I adore the more refined, friendly, and often comedic teasing, which has been a big part of my interactions with Luna since her return. But in the face of more direct, and often very intimate, physical equivalent, I never seem to know how to handle myself. Unfortunately for me, Twilight loves it. Whether it is because it makes her feel empowered, or because she is very simply a much more aggressive romantic than I would have ever given her credit for, I don’t know. But the moment I feel her impish grin against my neck, the romantic atmosphere retreats into a corner, and a mixture of apprehension and anticipation courses through me, no matter how much I try to control it. “Twilight...” My voice sounds weak, little more than a whimper. Goodness, how did it end up like this? “Please don’t.” A featherlight touch of magic, like a swarm of butterflies, dances up my spine and belly alike, making me bite my lower lip. There is no way I am going to give in to this. Not again. Not this time. Empty words I tell myself every time Twilight turns her magic on me in this way, but I have yet to back them up with the composure required for such an impossible feat. When the magic finds its target, the tendons that connect my wings to my back, I’m already struggling against the undeniable itch of laughter that bubbles up in my chest. The magic doesn’t care. Nor, it seems, does its caster. She still has her face pressed against my neck, and she’s still smiling victoriously while directing her magic. My composure, strong as it is, breaks before she’s reached the tips of my wings and I can’t stop myself from bursting out into laughter. Twilight, however, has only just begun and I lose it completely when her magic pokes at every weak spot simultaneously. At some point in the past, I don’t quite remember when, Twilight told me excitedly about a ‘secret about wings’ that she’d read up on. Ironically, it was many years before she’d sprouted her own. In retrospect, her interest could probably have clued me in to her attraction to me. But at the time, I’d filed it under ‘Twilight’s general curiosity’. ”From an evolutionary standpoint, they are fascinating. Wings have thousands of little nerve endings between the primaries that help the pony they’re attached to feel and navigate the flow of air-currents. And it’s that required sensitivity that makes them such wonderful targets when you want to win a tickle fight.” Twilight wouldn’t have been Twilight if she hadn’t prepared an entire lecture on the topic, but given that she had also decided to treat me to a practical demonstration of the subject matter, I honestly can’t recall most of it. Which was how she found out about the one secret that I would really rather nopony knew, and has used that knowledge with ruthless efficiency since. Today is no different. “Twiliiiiightt!” She varies up the magic’s location and strength in a way that is impossible for me to predict. She lets up on one side, only to make me do a double-take when she suddenly attacks a point near my hock I didn’t even know I was ticklish in. Leave it to Twilight to have researched every possible pressure point in a pony’s body. Before long, it feels like my sides are going to give out before she has mercy, and then, of course, ‘overachiever’ Twilight takes it up a notch more. On and on, and on... It’s impossible to tell how much time has passed. If I wasn’t having such trouble breathing, and wasn’t keenly aware of the tears of laughter streaming down my face, I’d almost be convinced that I’d passed out. Suddenly, Twilight's assault ends, and her weight disappears from my chest, leaving me lying there on my bed. Exhausted, panting, and utterly confused. The confusion doesn’t last long, as I spot a bright light in my peripheral vision. Somepony has opened the door. "Princess?!” One of my guards asks from his position in the doorjamb. He keeps his voice low, trying not to disturb me even while the concern is evident in his voice. “Is everything alright? We heard screaming!" The realisation that I neglected to cast any sort of sound-canceling spells (or even lock the door behind me) sets in, along with a burst of panic. What exactly did they hear? What if they know? Normally such things are on the top of my priority list when Twilight is visiting, but I honestly believed that she had gone. And now our secret might not be one for much longer. Luckily, the guard’s tone is one of concern rather than alarm, which means that it is probably isn’t much of a stretch to assume that Twilight hid in time. Although the immediate assault has ceased, the light feeling of laughing (and the exhaustion) do not simply vanish along with it. A tense few seconds pass before I find the strength to respond. I really should right myself, go to the door, and perhaps even step out to assure them that I am completely okay. But somehow, it doesn’t feel as important as it probably should. Though perhaps it’s a hint of fear that they might notice the sweat on my coat, or my puffy eyes and assume something worse. "Everything is fine, guardsman," goes my reply once I find enough air for it, and even that short sentence is more of a wheeze than anything. "Just a..." Horsefeathers, what do I tell him? "...Just a bad dream." "Of course, Princess. Apologies for disturbing you." The guard is silent for a moment before I once again make out motion from the door in my peripheral vision. I almost breathe a sigh of relief until it stops halfway through and the guard speaks up again. "Would you like me to get you some chamomile tea, Princess? Or perhaps something else?" "No.” The word is out of my mouth before I can stop it. Pretending a cough buys me enough time for another breath of air after which I do right myself and smile at him. “There’s no need, guardsman. Thank you for your concern, and your vigilance, but I'm fine, really." He nods, and before he has even closed the door all the way, I hurl a sound canceling bubble at the door and the surrounding walls, and lock the door after him. After giving myself peace of mind by doing so, a glance around the room reveals... not much of anything. "You can come out now, Twilight." A shadow cast by one of the canopy curtains surrounding my bed bulges outwards, and a horned, pony-like shape emerges, its horn clad in the dark swirling magic of my sister’s domain. The shadow then withdraws, slowly, leaving only a sheepish looking Twilight behind. "Sorry," she says at length, "I didn't think they would— I wasn't thinking about anypony else. I just wanted to surprise you, but I should have—" With the worst scare of the night behind me, I laugh, one of pure joy this time. With a flick of my horn I grab her in my magic and pull her close, kissing her on the lips. "Stars, I love you." My declaration earns me a wan smile from Twilight as well and I cannot resist kissing her again. Two— three— many more kisses later, we finally separate, and I put her down on the bed, (on her back to give me the upper hoof should she try anything) before giving my curiosity a turn. “When did you learn to shadow-meld? I certainly never taught you.” "Luna did,” Twilight replies, looking up at me with a dreamy smile. “She came up to me today, wanting to talk about illusion magic and how terrible it was that most ponies seem to have forgotten about it.” She giggles softly when I forget my control and place a kiss on her belly.. “She went on a rant about the lost art of intelligence gathering and spycraft, and how exposed Equestria was without them... I’ve always loved spy novels, so I asked her if she could show me her spells, and perhaps teach me, and then—" There is likely a lot more to the story, but my interest dwindles rapidly. I couldn’t care less about my sister’s grievances right now. Twilight’s excitement, however, is something I want more of. From our tickle fights in the past few months—most instigated by Twilight—I’ve learned that attacking Twilight’s wings with magic simply isn’t as debilitating for her as it is for me. A problem, but by no means a big one for my current objective. Excitement exists in more than one form after all, so I’ll settle for the next best thing: Preening. Whether ticklish or not, it is certain to bring about a reaction, and from there... Perhaps she’ll feel enough at ease to finally— "Pri— Celestia!?" Her wings flare out and her horn sparks reflexively when a tendril of my magic snakes through her wings, but I’m faster, pressing my own horn to Twilight's and snuffing out any spell she could think to cast at the source. "Shhh, shhh," I coo, gently stroking her closest wing with a hoof. "Let me set the pace for once. There’s no need for you to always be so aggressive, is there?” When she doesn’t respond, I kiss her again, and work my way back down to her wings. Even after almost a year, her reactions still make it more than evident that she wasn’t born with her wings. While she can, and indeed does fly, her feathers are a mess. And despite her insistence to the contrary, it seems that she still doesn’t know how to preen herself properly. Even with Twilight on her back which gives me a view of only the underside of her wings, I can tell that she’s obviously doing something wrong, or not doing it at all. For one, she’s managed to collect quite a bit of dust and debris between her feathers, and there’s no sign of any feather conditioner. Of course, getting to every single one of the more than three thousand feathers on an Alicorn wing is complicated, even when you know where you direct your magic. In that regard, Pegasi have it easier, though it doesn’t look like Twilight has even tried. It is a miracle that she hasn’t gone mad from the impossible itching sensation that the mottling feathers and dust particles should surely have subjected her to. Then again, perhaps she is so unfamiliar with those particular nerve endings that it has only been a mild irritation? A little nugget of knowledge that everything new needs stimulation in order to properly develop pops into my mind, and on a whim, I decide that Twilight’s wings certainly fall into that category and get to work on them straight away. Twilight needs to learn how much of a pleasure having wings can be; whether it be through flying... or other means. Another tingle down my spine sends my tail upwards, and I force it down just as swiftly. First things first: teaching Twilight that preening doesn’t necessarily have to be a chore. Using my magic, I take one of her wings and slowly bend it so I can get a good look at the top as well. Then, it is only a matter of leaning in, separating one of the crooked feathers from the rest with a deft twist of my tongue before pulling it out from between the others and licking the surrounding feathers back into alignment. Twilight’s wings are smaller than my own, making moving on to the next one a matter of inching along her plumage until I find my next victi— target. Within moments I have Twilight breathing heavily and groaning softly every time I remove another of the damaged feathers. “Sorry if it hurts a little,” I tell her gently before pulling out another remex. “But that is what happens when you let your wing care languish as long as you seem to have.” When her only response is a muted grunt, I decide to focus on the task I’ve set for myself. After all, you can’t always expect ponies to listen to you when you’re distracting them with something else, as I should well know. We don’t talk for a time. Me because my mouth is too busy straightening her feathers, she because her mouth is too busy making cute little squeaks every time I hit one of her bristles. By the time I finish her first wing, a little over an hour has passed, much to my surprise. Given the state of Twilight’s wings, I’d thought I would be working on it for much longer than that. It lasts as long as it takes me to shrug mentally. Saving some time which I can spend with her in other ways is not something I think I will ever complain about, and the doofy grin on Twilight’s face is irresistible. I smile at her, which grows into a chuckle while I cradle her in my forelegs. The other wing can wait a few more minutes. “See?” I ask her innocently. “Preening can be very... pleasurable.” I draw the word out, rolling my tongue around the ‘r’s and she shudders in response, making me laugh again. “Good things come to those who trust others to take care of them.” “I thought it was ‘good things come to those who wait’,” Twilight mumbles in response. “Then it would behoove you to be patient, wouldn’t it?” I ask her, rubbing her purple belly fluff with a hoof for a moment before getting started her other wing. It is just as much, if not more of a disaster and I clack my tongue in disapproval. “Tut, tut, tut. You’d think that after a year, you’d know how to take care of your own wings.” “I know,” Twilight begins to respond, lifting her head to look at me. “It’s just— ah!” I grin around the secondary feather I just pulled from its socket and deftly place it on the pile with the others. Shutting Twilight up and forcing her to feel rather than explain everything away is the entire point of the exercise. The startled moaning is just icing on the cake. ...Maybe I could combine the two some day? “For example,” I continue as though I am deaf to her moans, “A bent or even snapped off primary like this, makes flying difficult at best. Not to mention that it makes your plumage look untidy. A faux pas akin to... say... having a bad case of bed mane at a function.” Leaning down, I nuzzle through Twilight’s wing until I come across another pinion that needs to be pulled out in order to make way for a new one. Rather than get on with it, I bite down on it, and wait for Twilight to do the inevitable. Right on cue, she opens her mouth and out come the words. “I know that! I read— ah!” Even though I know there’s no longer any need to be quiet, Twilight seems to have missed my spellcasting, and bites down on a pillow close at hoof to stifle her unwanted outbursts. Maybe I’ll make use of that later... Apart from a giggle which escapes me at Twilight’s delightful reactions, I decide not to acknowledge her responses and instead, continue with my lecture. “It’s no wonder you don’t fly more often, your poor wings look like you’ve just lost a war.” When Twilight opens her mouth again, my first idea is to pluck out another feather. She moves faster, flexing her wing and all but slapping me in the face with it, followed by an unimpressed frown that borders on a glare. “I know,” she says, putting emphasis on every syllable. “I read all thirty guides on wing care back to back, but preening is just so time consuming...” She winces when I gently pull back her wing and pluck out another feather. “And about as pleasant as combing knots out of my mane.” I let my own smile fade. “I’m sorry it feels that way, Twilight. It’s not supposed to.” I look down at my little Alicorn, and all of the love I feel for her blooms in my chest as though I’m seeing it for the first time. Planting a kiss on her head, I pull myself back from the brink of simply laying her down and ravishing her here and now. I’m trying to help her connect to her wings, not have my way with her... tempting though it might be. So instead of kissing her again, I talk to her. “I had hoped to show you that, while preening certainly does take some time, it can be a wonderful experience. But tension can make it more painful than it has to be, and you are very tense. Why is that, my faithful student?” Twilight remains silent, though it isn’t hard to guess where her hesitation comes from. I just hope it isn’t because of me. Perhaps I shouldn’t have made the call back to— “Because when you touch my wings it feels like...” She takes a deep breath but does not continue. For all the patience I am said to have, I’ve never been very good at simply sitting around and waiting for things to happen. I like to make plans, sway minds, or otherwise influence events yet to come in a positive way. Though it is not always so easily accomplished. “Yes..?” Even though she turns away from me, the blush that forms on her cheeks is impossible to miss and I have to stifle another giggle. She needs me to be supportive right now. “It feels... I feel so hot. It’s like I’ll catch fire.” A tingle of arousal runs down my spine and makes my wings twitch, which is a completely natural reaction when talking about such intimate feelings and in no way makes my earlier impulse that much more likely. Okay, maybe it does a little bit, but Twilight isn’t done yet. “It’s like those swamp gasses that ignite and cause the entire area to burn down on a hot summers day. Only it’s not—” She huffs in frustration. “I just don’t want to—” “You don’t have to say it, Twilight,” I cut in, hiding the sting her words cause with practiced precision. I have waited for forever, there’s no need to rush. If she isn’t ready, then I will respect that. “Have you tried asking your friends for help?” She nods gravely. “I’d heard that Fluttershy helps Rainbow out with it all the time, so I asked both of them for help. Rainbow Dash said she’d help, but I could tell that she wasn’t comfortable with it.” With a sigh she leans against me. “And she wasn’t very good either. She jittered the whole time and pulled out more good feathers than damaged ones. It actually hurt a lot... and Fluttershy...” Bad experiences all around, and she doesn’t trust herself around me. It hurts, but at least it helps me understand that not all of her hesitation is because of me. Perhaps a professional would do a better job? “Fluttershy blushed up a storm and didn’t talk to me for a week afterwards.” She chuckles softly. “Of course, it was only after that happened that I got to the chapter about preening somepony else being considered very intimate. I.. I suppose it helps that they grew up together. Poor Rainbow, I must have made her so uncomfortable.” I can only nod in understanding. “I can’t recall exactly how it is described in the various guides, but they hardly ever mention that it is usually reserved for immediate family, the closest of close friends, and lovers.” She stiffens, like she’s just now figured just out how intrusive her actions could have been construed as. “What about a spa treatment? Have you tried that?” She is so lost in her thoughts about her friends that it takes her a moment to process my question, and even then it is met with confused disbelief. “What? No, never.” An odd response from my normally efficiency minded marefriend. “Why not?” I feel her shrug more than I can see it. At least she’s becoming a little more relaxed. “At first it didn’t seem like such a big deal, but after I asked Fluttershy for help and got to the chapter it just seemed... uncomfortable and strange. I don’t want just anypony to touch my wings like that, especially if it’s supposed to be an intimate thing.” Even though I’ve known Twilight for most of her life, the way her mind works still manages to elude me from time to time. There have even been times where I was tempted to peek at her dreams, just to learn more about her. I want to know how she feels right now, and my next question comes out of my mouth unbidden. “Did I overstep a boundary with the sudden preening? I...” I bite my lip. Of all the stupid mistakes I could have made... I choose the one that’s liable to do the most damage. For all the growing closer we’ve done this past year we never actually got any further than a few intimate kisses... and now I’m at a loss for words as well. Wonderful. Strange how such a simple announcement can put everything I thought I was doing into a new, and not very favorable, light. I curse myself for having taken something so seemingly simple for granted without asking if she was okay with it. Perhaps there is some forgiveness to be had from the fact that we are dating, but even then... If it felt wrong she would have stopped me... wouldn’t she? Much to my relief, she shakes her head rather frantically and reaches up to force me to look at her, blush and all. “No! No, nothing like that! I... I liked it. I mean... You’re not just anypony. You’re my... my...” Her bashfulness is cute. Adorable, even though it perfectly illustrates the fact that we don’t get enough time to ourselves. Eventually, she takes a deep breath and rolls over onto her belly to give me a serious look. “I love you.” It’s like the doubt suddenly fails to find any purchase in my heart. Love fills every square inch of it every time I hear her say those words, and I have to reciprocate. “I love you, too.” She falls silent for a moment, staring into my eyes, then tears her gaze away. “It’s just... imagining anypony else preening my wings after reading that felt like...” Her wings twitch and she grimaces before settling on: “It would have felt wrong. I mean... I already feel embarrassed enough when I ask for a massage.” “Why is that, Twilight?” I ask, scooting closer and draping my wing over her back. She immediately leans into my side, seeking comfort like she always has, even though our relationship has changed. “You are a beautiful mare, and when done by a professional preening and massages aren’t all that dissimilar.” “They are,” she insists. “Preening is...” The blush returns, reaching all the way up to her ears which flatten against her skull when I plant a kiss on the closest one. “I said I read a chapter. But there is an entire book, several in fact, about the... uhm... sensual applications?” Her embarrassed, coy, way of putting it makes it sound more like a question than it actually is. I can’t help but smile in spite of her bashfulness. “You mean sex?” She nods mutely. “Exactly how does that differ from a massage?” "Well, massages are much less intimate for one, and you can be good at giving massages without any training. Spike is actually very good at it, even though he's never read a book on them. It’s the claws, he can hit the knots a little easier..." She always rambles when she's nervous, and today is no different. I let her ramble on for a while but inevitably, she finds a way to make a comparison between preening and her own actions in an unfavorable fashion. It’s something she does with frightening ease. “—So while I can’t exactly massage myself, isn’t asking to be preened in a spa basically an admittance that I can’t take care of myself?” I give her a squeeze with my wing and give her a gentle nudge at the same time. Often times, she just needs somepony to tell her how silly she is being, and right now, that’s me. "Tell me, Twilight. Can you comb your own mane?” “Well, of course, but I don’t see—” “Yet they offer mane styling products and services at the spa, correct?” “Yes, but—” I lean in and nip at the closest of her ears, which satisfyingly makes her stifle a yelp. “Shush. You worry too much, Twilight. Of course you can take care of yourself.” I indicate the pile of feathers with my horn. “Even if you don’t always do so when you should.” I give her a gentle nuzzle before continuing. "Now you know that both massages and preening can be used to great effect in the bedroom, yes?" “Of course I know that!” she replies hotly when her wings disobey her once again, the one against my side flexing several times while she struggles to regain control over them. “The Kamare Sutra has several chapters devoted to different styles of massages, complete with sensual oils, and hot rocks, and... and...” She turns red enough to make tomatoes jealous. Oh my precious Twilight, you are too adorable for your own good sometimes. “Exactly. And if you can still ask for a massage, what is it that makes preening so very different?” My question is right on the mark and she winces. “Well...” she pouts at me, as though begging for me to understand what she’s about to say. “I know how a massage is supposed to feel, and I know what spells feel like when I cast them, but these...” She flutters her wings for emphasis. “Everything about them feels... weird.” “Describe it to me, if you can.” “It’s like... hitting your ulnar nerve. Everything tingles, and it can be extremely ticklish at times... although I guess what you were doing felt kind of... nice...” I chuckle. “For some the ticklishness is a feature. One you never hesitate to use against me,” “It’s not the same.” Twilight replies, her pouting becoming more pronounced. “You were born with yours. They’re as much a part of you as your hooves, or your horn. Mine just kind of... happened. I don’t even really know how I feel about that— them.” I can’t take the sight of her half preened wing anymore, and apply just enough force with my magic to push her over onto her side, sneaking in a kiss before I get started. “Would you rather not have turned into an Alicorn?” “Hmmm...” With the way her brow furrows, it’s almost too easy to believe that her answer will be in the negative, and if that turns out to have been a mistake... I begin preening her, even if my focus has shifted from ‘helping Twilight’ to ‘keeping myself busy so I won’t think about the worst possible scenario’. If it was a mistake, how much more likely is it that Twilight considers our relationship to be— “No,” Twilight says, interrupting my thoughts. “I do like it. It’s been amazing learning all sorts of new things, and seeing things from a different point of view...” her sentence peters out and she coos softly when I smooth over an imperfection in her wing. “Quite literally, actually. Did you know that I’ve grown two inches in the last month alone?” The relief at hearing that she doesn’t consider it a mistake is tainted by another sort of tension in my gut. I know. Mostly because I’ve been admiring Twilight’s more... ahem... exciting features for those last couple of months. They too, have become... more pronounced and have given Twilight a more voluptuous appearance in every appreciable way. Of course, I’m not about to let her know where exactly I’ve been looking. “Yes I did,” I reply matter-of-factly. “Just like I noticed when you cut your mane to make it seem as though your horn had grown during puberty, or that you stopped maintaining your fetlocks for a month in an attempt to appear more mature when you tried to impress me...” A fit of giggles overcomes me when she picks up a pillow and hides her face behind it. “I liked the way you looked, by the way.” I stroke the sensitive area between Twilight’s wings, trying to help her relax. “I wouldn’t worry too much about how you’re adjusting to your wings. You were never anywhere near as bad as Cadence was when she got her horn.” That catches her attention and the pillow shifts just enough to let her look at me with one eye. All of her embarrassment goes forgotten in favor of an incredulous look from that eye. “Cadence? She would never—” “No?” I interrupt her with a smirk. “After she ascended, I brought her back to the castle. She went through this ‘existential stage’ where she only ever wore dark colored dresses, enough makeup to primp three mares, and wrote horrible poetry. Apparently she got this idea into her head that royalty was supposed to suffer from ennui.” “Really?” Twilight’s disbelief is palpable, and when she looks at me again her expression is one torn between a peer—trying to ascertain if I’m telling the truth—and shocked denial. I nod for good measure. “Really. Not only that, but a few months after she moved into the castle, almost all of the maids in the castle were pregnant.” “Pregnant?” Twilight goes from shock, to confusion, to bemusement, and then back to shock. The pillow vanishes, carelessly tossed away by Twilight’s magic. “How... what did she—” “Uncontrolled love magic,” I reply. “Believe it or not, she wasn’t always as proficient or sparse with her magic as she might seem. I sent her to school after that. The pep squad adopted her straight away, did her a world of good.” “And what about you?” Drat. Of course she would ask about that. “What about me?” I ask her, hoping to avoid the issue altogether. “Did you take anypony to bed because of her?” There is suspicion in her voice, though not as much as in the look she’s giving me. Already she’s wondering if I have children running around someplace. Fortunately, the answer to that is a definite no. “No, I did not,” I reply, straight-faced. “As an age old Alicorn I enjoy some much needed self-control... although that doesn’t mean that I wasn’t tempted.” Twilight’s ears, which had already perked up when I began my tale on Cadence, only seem to grow longer in my mind. There’s no way they really could be. “I did have... an accident,” I tell her at length before quickly moving things along. No reason to bring up embarrassing situations several decades into the past is there, right? Right. “But that isn’t important.. We were talking about you.” I boop her on the nose with a hoof before giving her chaste kiss on the lips. Such a simple gesture, yet it makes my heart overflow, and I can’t help but tease her a little more, letting the kiss linger to the point where Twilight falls forward when I withdraw. It leads to her looking indignant, of course, but if I didn’t act on my feelings from time to time, I’m afraid I might explode. Eventually, she relents. “I guess we are... but I want to hear about it at some point.” Rather than using her indignation as prelude to another round of teasing, I pluck one last feather from her wing before gently putting it back at her sides. It’s still not perfect, but right now the symbolism feels more important than any action. In that same vein try to condense all of the love and respect I have for her into a single look, and ask, “Twilight? Will you let me make love to you?” > A Loving Princess. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A powerful surge of excitement makes my tail hike upward, and my marehood wink, when the Princess asks me that particular question. An instinctual response, advertising to any stallion that would care to look that I am more than okay with the suggestion, although it probably isn’t entirely appropriate given that the Princess is also a mare. Of course, with my excitement comes the familiar rush of adrenaline as well. While my body certainly knows what it wants, I’ve long anticipated and dreaded the question. Maybe that’s why it took so long before she asked? “I... uh... I...” I stammer, trying to find the right words to consent to what is bound to be the best night of my life, while also making clear that it will be my first ever time having intercourse in... well... ever. “I...” I let out a huff of frustration at my own inability to communicate clearly in an important moment like this and settle for a nod instead. A nod which is accompanied by a blush when a pressure on my bladder reminds me that there’s something else important that I should probably do beforehoof. “But I...” I take a deep breath. “I need to go to the bathroom first.” The adrenaline settles in my stomach and becomes a cold block of ice when it transforms into fear. Will the Princess accept that I have to go? Is it acceptable to even say something like that? Maybe I should just have gone without telling her anything. Is she going to be angry with me for ruining the moment? She smiles and my heart melts. “Of course, Twilight,” she tells me in that gentle melodious voice of hers that always enraptures me. “Don’t hesitate on my account.” And just like that, the fear in the pit of my stomach is gone, and I can get up to go to the bathroom in relief to... uh... relieve myself. I keep my tail wrapped around one of my hind legs while I move. Not only so that it doesn’t hike up again, that would be embarrassing enough, but also because the Princess’ preening was much more... exciting than I would like to let on. Because of it, I’d have had rivulets running down my hind legs if my tail weren’t in the way. It’s a small miracle that she hasn’t smelled my excitement by now. I can’t help but glance back at the bed before I reach the door, only to find that the Princess has also gotten up and is following me like a cat follows a mouse. I could almost swear she’s licking her lips while she does so. Embarrassment again mingles with excitement and my wings hit the side of the door before I can step into the bathroom proper. Has she noticed my agitation? Is she going to pull my tail aside and take me right here? Another shiver, and I almost groan when I feel myself wink against my own tail. “Pr—” I cut myself off before I make that mistake again “C-celestia, why are you following me? Do you need to go as well? I don’t think I’d be able to... ‘go’ if you—” “Don’t worry, Twilight,” she interrupts me, brushing my sides with a wing while she passes me and squeezes through the door that leads to her private bathroom. “I only wanted to make sure to grab some oil.” I must have a pretty incredulous look on my face because she giggles and says, “You yourself said that there are all kinds of oils for sensual massages, and I happen to have a collection of them.” She looks at a cabinet just inside the bathroom, which holds an impressive collection of oils, soaps, and perfumes and picks them up one by one. While she puts most of them back down, at least three of them float over to the bed and she almost makes no attempt to hide the fourth which she tucks under her wing. “Oh,” she exclaims, probably more to herself than to me, “And we shouldn’t forget some good preening oil, your wings could really use it.” By the time she’s done, I feel full to bursting. After the Princess has squeezed out the door again, I quickly close it and sprint over to the porcelain throne, letting go of my bladder control the moment I reach it. It’s a huge relief, and without much else to focus on, my thoughts turn to the toilet itself. It’s actually kind of funny that they call it a throne, in the fact that it brings to mind a mental image of the Princess holding court while seated on this contraption... Maybe I’m just trying to distract myself from the looming idea that I’m about to have sex with the Princess... With Celestia. The mare of my dreams. Quite literally in many cases. Will I be good enough? The question keeps replaying in my mind and even after I’ve cleaned myself up thoroughly (According to the ‘Aphrodius Guide to Intercourse’, poor hygiene can be one of the biggest turn-offs in the bedroom) I eye the shower, and fight with myself for over a minute about whether to use it. There’s clean and then there is clean, after all. After winning the argument (and also losing) by electing to shower afterwards, I find myself just standing there. Door handle in hoof, heart in throat. I know I should just go in and be myself. That’s what the Princess... That’s what Celestia would want, and yet... No, I can’t think like that. She wants me. Just the idea threatens to make me rush over to the shower after all. I haven’t moved, paralyzed by fear, compelled forward by lust, the two impulses warring in my mind. Only when the fear that I’m making her wait finally rivals the fear of messing up, do I swallow my heart and slowly open the door. The room I step into is considerably brighter than the one I left. Over on the desk that the Princess uses for her more personal correspondence are a trio of scented candles. Stars only know where she was keeping those. The princess herself has taken off her Regalia and settled down on the bed, facing the door with a gentle smile that immediately puts part of my fears to rest. If only the rest was as easy to get rid of. I take a deep breath, which incidentally clues me into the scents she’s chosen for her candles. Rose, said to have aphrodisiac effects on most ponies, a good choice for any romantic encounter. Jasmine, erotic, exotic, and supposed to help strengthen sexual relationships, though I think I would have preferred lime. And finally Lavender, said to soothe heart and mind, provide comfort, and nurture relationships... It’s like each of them was selected knowing exactly how I would feel, and weak chuckle escapes me as I realise just how well the Princess knows me. How long has she had those candles ready and waiting for the moment when I would be ready? ‘Far too long’ wouldn’t be an unreasonable estimate. But she’s never really pushed for anything sexual before now. Maybe she knew I wasn’t ready yet? Am I ready now? What if I can’t do it? What if I disappoint— “Twilight.” Her voice makes my ears perk up and shakes loose the little pony on my shoulder whispering doubts into them. “Don’t just stand there,” she continues, that gentle smile conveying love in a subtle way I’ll never be able to replicate. “Come. Sit down.” I do as instructed, making my way over to the bed and settling down next to my Princess, all the while wondering what, if anything, I’m supposed to do about my wings. I’ve managed to keep them against my sides so far, but the strain is starting to become uncomfortable. A second later, her lips graze the tip of my ear and it doesn’t matter anymore. A surge of excitement flows up from the deepest parts of my stomach and my wings spring open with an audible snap. If she’s following the guidelines to optimal seduction techniques, Princess Celestia’s ministrations should move on to blowing into my ear. I shiver just thinking about it, but the expected breath doesn’t come. Three seconds... six seconds... Seven... Eight... Nine... I can’t stand waiting anymore, and look to my side to see what’s taking her so long. A shadow drifts across the far wall, but is gone as soon as I blink. Am I really so nervous that I’m jumping at shadows? Is Celestia toying with me? Has she been using magic this whole time? I look around for her, only to come face to face with an impish smile on the beautiful mare that is the Princess, and having my lips captured in a kiss that I lose myself in. When the kiss ends, and I open my eyes again, she’s still smiling. It only fades briefly when her mouth moves to form words that barely register. “I love you.” Is what I think she says before leaning in to kiss me again. I don’t get a chance to close my eyes again to enjoy this one like I did the last however. At the same time as our lips meet, her horn sparks and a tendril of her magic snakes through my still sensitive wings, making me gasp into her mouth. She plays me like a lute, seemingly knowing how I’ll react before I do. I should do something... I should return her advances in kind, if only because I don’t want to be selfish. Magic. Magic is always the easiest solution. Visualising her in my mind is almost too easy. From her magenta eyes which fill with love when she looks at me only, her smile, her wings, her rump... I should start there for maximum effect. Before my plan comes to fruition, or rather before I can even begin, she breaks the kiss and drags her tongue up my horn. It’s electrifying and wet, and so, so hot. My spell sputters and fades into oblivion while I let out another shocked gasp. The sensation ends as soon as it begins and Celestia’s face once again becomes the center of my vision. “Oh no you don’t,” she whispers with a hunger in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. “Tonight, you are mine.” It’s a little frightening, but more than that... I... I want her to continue. All I manage to do is swallow dryly and nod. Not much of an invitation, or even a reply, but she leans in for yet another kiss. It’s still as wonderful as the first, but then she pushes forward and I feel something poking against my lips. I’d never thought that kissing with tongues would be very interesting or even particularly pleasant, but with Celestia, it’s different. Much better than I expected for one thing. Her tongue plays with mine in a sensual dance, and she explores my mouth with gusto while I’m merely trying to come to grips with what she’s doing. Just when I get enough presence of mind to both enjoy the kiss and analyze it, Celestia employs a new tactic. She pushes me onto my back and looms over me as some sort of angel. Another kiss on my lips, lasting for only a fraction of a second, which isn’t nearly long enough. I let out a pitiful whine. Incredibly embarrassing, but apparently exactly what she’s been waiting for. Her smile widens and she rains kisses down on my face, and slowly but surely moves down to my neck. She nibbles on the spot just above my jugular which sets my tail thrashing beneath her even while it leaves me breathless. But she doesn’t stop there. From my neck she moves down to my chest twirling my coat with her tongue, and then further down to my belly. Her kisses there make me feel butterflies in my stomach all over again. Weird. I’d thought I’d gotten past that stage. Apparently not. When she finally reaches my teats, she lingers, mmm, suckling on them, which makes me moan in delight. I can’t help but imagine what it would be like if she could actually draw milk from suckling on them, leading to the realisation that I’d have to be pregnant for that to be possible. I look down to where she’s still servicing my teats and a pang of sadness hits me, knowing that if I were to have a child, it wouldn’t be hers. Unless...maybe there’s a spell... And If there isn’t... there will be. By now I’m so wet that my tail has all but soaked through. She has to be able to smell my excitement, even over the scented candles, but she gives no indication if that is the case. She finally moves on, and is getting close now, closer, closer... A disappointed moan escapes me when she skips right over my vagina and instead continues along my inner thighs. Her ears perk up at the sound of it, and she looks up at me with a coy smile. “Something wrong, Twilight?” All I manage to get out is a strangled growl before she simply picks up where she left off, making me moan again. When she finally reaches the end of my leg and plants a kiss on the frog of my hoof, it twitches and I almost kick her square in face. Worry comes out of nowhere and I sit up straight. “Are you okay, Princess?” It turns out she moved her head to the side just in time to avoid the worst of it, but there’s still an angry, red stripe across her cheek which makes me feel terrible. “I’m so sorry, Princess, I couldn’t help it! It was just—” The injury— If you could call it that—doesn’t even slow her down. She simply pushes me back down, and crawls over me to peck at my lips again. “What did I tell you about using my name, Twilight?” she asks me with a sultry voice, almost making me forget why I was worried in the first place. I nod, stupefied. I should apologise. If anything, I would have guessed a kick to the face to kill the mood entirely, but the Prin— Celestia doesn’t seem to think so. She hovers over me for a moment, the gentle smile on her face almost making it seem like I didn’t hurt her. But I did. “Princess... Celestia, please?” I plead with her. Somepony needs to take a look at that injury to see if it’s serious. This can all wait, the most important thing is that she’s alright. She arches an eyebrow before absently touching her cheek with a hoof. “I’m fine, Twilight. Not that you aren’t incredibly cute when you worry like that, but there’s no need to.” I don’t know why, but for some reason it sounds embarrassing. I’m not cute. When I pout in response, she just laughs heartily and kisses me again. Next, she floats over a bottle and I can’t help but wonder which kind of oil it is. She nudges my muzzle with her own. “Roll over for me?” There’s a moment of rest while I roll over onto my belly. No teasing, no sound beyond the rustling of the sheets, and somehow it only makes me more aware of how worked up I am. I’m trembling. Waiting for the next touch. Waiting to see what she’ll do to me next, where she’ll touch me. Even though I should have expected it, the cool oil on my back still takes me by surprise, and I let out a thoroughly embarrassing squeak. At least I didn’t hit her with my wings as well. The unpleasant sensation last for a fraction of a second before it becomes pure bliss. The Princess’ hooves are softer than they have any right to be, and slowly begin kneading my back, undoing knots and occasionally pressing into them in that deliciously painful way that only massages are allowed to get away with. I bury my face in the bedding and groan. It’s torture, feeling this hot and bothered when your special somepony doesn’t seem to want to acknowledge it. At least the massage gives me something to occupy my thoughts. She works in silence, and apart from wondering when she would have had the time to learn massage techniques (Then again, for all I know she helped develop those techniques. Just imagine, an infinite amount of time to study.) I wonder if perhaps I misunderstood her question. Certainly the level of intimacy was more than anything we've ever done before, and for a moment it really felt like the foreplay I've read about, even if she hasn’t done anything overtly sexual yet. So either foreplay is enough to satisfy her, or this isn’t foreplay, yet? Is there such a thing as pre-foreplay? I could have also made her worry about me. Good going, Twilight. Even with something that should be so simple you manage to mess things up. When she scoots up a little and drapes a wing over the part of me she's not touching with her hooves, the feeling only becomes more real. It’s a gesture meant to comfort. Why would she do that if not because I’ve ruined things? It’s like she sees me as a little filly again, scared of everything that’s happening. Perhaps, to her, I am. That train of thought carries me while her hooves softly roam around on my back. It would make sense. I dreaded intimacy with her, mostly because I was all but certain I would find a way to mess it up somehow. And now I have. That has to be why she stopped. The thought makes part of me want to scream at her to continue, and another part of me wants to cry about another failure. I comfort myself with the idea that I got to feel some of it at least. Only... Her hooves don’t stop where a normal massage does. Instead, they wander down past my hock, and she caringly begins stroking my cutie marks. It feels nice in more ways than one, and when she kisses my hock and moves her hooves further down, my body makes a decision without me. My back arches and my tail lifts high enough that it would be on my back were the Princess not in the way, meaning that she's wearing my juices soaked tail as a makeshift hat. Is it possible to die of embarrassment and arousal at the same time? She doesn't seem to think so. I can feel her hot breath on my outer lips. "Gorgeous." Oh stars why does that turn me on so much? Hmmm... Any reply I could have conjured disappears into a half-lost moan when she plants a kiss on the incredibly sensitive spot that is my clitoris. With a swift kiss to the base of my tail, she moves her hooves from my flanks to right beside my vagina and spreads my cheeks. Her hot breath on my nether lips makes me wink again and I’m all but certain I’m leaking onto the bedsheets at this point. She takes care of that a second later. Oh. Her tongue feels rough and warm against my outer lips and she carefully laps up said juices. Her lavish attentions take my breath away and leaves me panting, but even now, she’s doing little more than teasing. I look back at her with a frustrated huff when she backs away from the center of my vagina for the umphteend time in a row. It takes her a moment to realise I’m even looking at her, busy as she is with turning me into a pony-shaped puddle of need and desire. When she finally does, she smiles brightly, her muzzle dripping with my juices. It feels like she’s taunting me with it. Like she’s asking me: ‘What’s wrong, Twilight? Don’t you like what I’m doing to you?’ without actually saying anything. Before I can even begin to form any sort of reply to the unspoken question, however, she dives back in and my world shrinks to just what she’s doing to me once again. Maintaining a sense of time is all but impossible given the stimulation. Still, it has to have been at least a good half hour before the familiar coil of tension in my heart that signifies an impending climax reaches a plateau. “Unghfff... Oh gosh Celestia~” I cry out, trying to give voice to the mounting pleasure she’s subjecting me to. I can’t take much more, and yet, the licking and nosing she’s doing at the edges of my vagina... the word feels so clinical... like, ooooh, there is any kind of propriety left when the Princess herself in snout deep in my, my... well, my pussy! Ha, there, I saaaa~ “please don't stop!” My exclamation has an immediate effect, though not at all the effect I was hoping for. From one moment to the next, her touch disappears from my nethers and she crawls up the bed next to me, giving me a deep, tongue-filled kiss in which I can taste my own juices. They are just a little on the sweet side, and I briefly smile to myself. Turns out that book talking about fruit having that effect on orgasmic juices was right. My self-congratulatory mood doesn’t last for longer than those few seconds, though. I still have a marefriend to glare at for bringing me to the edge and then leaving me hanging on the edge. I know that she enjoys teasing ponies, especially me, but she’s never struck me as cruel. Until now that is. “Celestia, please?” My voice is little more than a hoarse whisper, likely due to all of the strain my body is under. I’m quivering, winking rapidly, and she has stimulated my pussy enough that even the cool air of the room on my vaginal walls is unbearably arousing. Still not enough to bring me to climax, however. When she doesn’t move, I roll over onto my back, trying very selfishly to get a hoof in between my lips so that I can at least reach that peak she’s dangling in front of me. Her magic stops me, holding my hooves still in the air while she licks me from chin to ear, and whispers: “Patience, my love.” More than the teasing, more than the sexual frustration I’m currently dealing with, more than even my private insecurities; her words make my heart overflow with love for her. Love for this perfect mare that somehow deigned to accept my nervous admission of love, and has shown me nothing but. It makes me want to hold her tight, and give her the same pleasure she’s given me a thousand times over. She told me that she wanted to make love to me, however, and she’s made it clear that she doesn’t want me to return the favor. At least not yet. So I will do the only other thing I can think of, and let her do whatever she wants to me. The only question is how much more teasing I can take before I go mad with lust, but for the love of my life, I'm willing to give it my all. Yet for all of my resolve, I can't help but squirm. Celestia takes her sweet time, spending what feels like an eternity nuzzling and kissing me while her magic once again plays with my wings. The sensations keep me close to the edge, meaning that I'm a little more than a moaning, quivering mess. When she finally moves back to my clenching, aching, wet, hole; I can’t wait anymore, and frantically try to move my labia towards her mouth. She plunges her tongue as deep inside of me as she can go, humming to add vibration to the list of wonderful sensations, and I get the release I'm looking for at long last. Somepony whinnies, and I realise that it’s me, cumming harder than I've ever done before. My vision goes white, my wings fruitlessly flap against the bed, my pussy walls seize up like a vice and trap Celestia's tongue within them, while my entire body is wracked by wave upon wave of indescribable pleasure. And my lover doesn't let up. She continues to hum and move her tongue inside of me, extending the pleasure until part of me is afraid that I might not ever come out of it. When my climax finally ends, I'm a shivering, mmm, exhausted, pleased, wreck of a mare. I’m panting from the exertions my body was put through and smiling like a maniac. Even my mind is fuzzy, and doesn't recognise complex ideas such as fear, something that my love seems to be well aware of. She crawls back up on the bed, looking as though she's just taken a shower in my juices, and I can't tell if she's ever looked more beautiful. "Did you enjoy that, my Twilight?" She asks with a naughty smile, apparently not in the least bit bothered that she's wearing more of my marecum than the bed is. I grin stupidly in turn. "Love you." Only after a moment do I realise that I'm the one saying those words in between my panting for breath, and it only makes me happier knowing that I've managed to say the most important words ever. “I love you too, Twilight,” she replies, drawing me against herself with her hooves while her magic picks up a bottle. I vaguely remember talking about having grown last month, but despite that, my love is still much bigger than I am. She curls herself around me and all I can think of is how safe and loved I feel right now. I nuzzle into her coat as best I can while she unfurls one of my wings and pours the liquid from the bottle all over it. It is cool to the touch and I would’ve shivered if it weren’t for my love’s warm coat surrounding me. Gently, she spreads the liquid—oil, my brain helpfully supplies— out over my wing. I nod to myself. She talked about my wings needing oil before. She always has my best interests at heart, so I simply sigh and rub my cheek against her chest. She works slowly, almost reverently. Each feather receives her individual attention and is put back in place before she moves on to the next one. It’s the most loving thing I’ve experienced. I think. While she works on the rest of my wing, my mind has all the time in the world to restart. When I realise just how much like a complete idiot I must have behaved for the last couple of minutes, my cheeks burn with shame, but even my mind can’t take away the feeling of safety that her presence provides me with, so I simply press my cheek into her chest a little harder and let the shame drain away. “How was that for your first time, Twilight?” She asks softly while her hooves and magic continue to spread the oil around my left wing. I can’t help but smile some more. I could listen to her talk for hours and never get bored. Only when the meaning of her words registers do I move, tearing myself away from her so that I can look up at her eyes. They’re deep magenta pools of love, and I almost forget the words I was going to form into a sentence. “Good? Great? Wonderful?” I shake my head softly and lean back against her. Maybe that’ll help me keep my thoughts in the order they were meant to be in. “How did you know?” “Because I know you, Twilight.” I can feel the vibrations of her voice in her chest while she talks. “You didn’t want me to know because you were afraid that I would think less of you.” I nod. A little morosely. I did want her to know, didn’t I? “How did you know that?” I was right. She knows what I’m going to do before I do. Her hooves come to a halt, and I can feel her muzzle against the back of my head. She places a kiss next to my horn and breathes; “Because I know you,” into my ear, making it flick. “I didn’t do anything for you,” I reply, at a loss for some way to reply. “And you’re disappointed in yourself?” she asks, going back to her gentle rubbing of my wing. I simply nod. “Don’t be. I’m honored that you would give your virginity to me, and tonight was all about you.” She kisses the base of my horn again, and when I look up she smiles and kisses me on the lips before continuing. “And besides, I liked seeing you scream for more like a mare in heat.” The blush that sentence brings reaches all the way to my ears, while I consider just how... exposed I was to her. How much she’s seen of me. And the next instant, I realise it doesn’t really matter. I’d bare all of myself for her any time. That’s what you do for your special somepony, isn’t it? I nod to myself once more and reply, “I liked showing you.” It’s little more than an embarrassed whisper, but it seems she’s heard regardless. With a small laugh she nuzzles one of my ears. “If you still feel bad about not doing anything, though, you could always make it up to me next time.” I find myself nodding sluggishly. Only now do I feel how tired I really am. I guess climaxing like that really takes it out of a mare, and the way she’s lovingly stroking my wings isn’t helping me any. “I’ll surprise you,” I softly whisper to her before yawning. “I’ll think of something so amazing you won’t even see it coming.” Another nuzzle, another kiss, the continued pleasant sensation of hooves running through my plumage... All I can think of, is how wonderful she is, and how exhausting sex is. My eyes flutter closed and I scarcely hear her reply. “I’m already looking forward to it, my love.” > A Loved Princess. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- She’s asleep before I’ve even finished rubbing the preening oil into her left wing. My little Twilight. My love. Insecure enough that she can’t bring herself to say what she really wants, but brave enough to sneak into my room to try and get it. A duality if I’ve ever known one. I stifle a yawn and smile to myself before starting on her other wing. She’s certainly picked the day for it. I should take a bath before I go to sleep myself. A few hours from now, I’ll need to be in court again. All fresh faced and bushy tailed. Clean, and rested. A part of me wonders what it would be like to forgo all of that. To let Twilight’s ejaculate dry on my face and neck, and let her smell mark me as hers. It’s an exciting thought to be sure, and I have to suppress a shiver that makes my tail fly up. Perhaps I should’ve let Twilight do as she pleased. Stars know I could’ve used it. I chuckle and shake my head. No, I did the right thing. Patience is a virtue, and it will make the time when she does actually decide that she’s brave enough to take me all the more pleasant. For now, however, I should get cleaned up. It isn’t even really a question of whether or not I would dare do something so audacious, it’s not a decision I can make on my own. Our relationship is still a secret, for now, and breaking that news to the press needs to be handled delicately, not by one princess showing up in court covered in the cum of the other. With a short, swift shake of my head, I rid myself of the ridiculous notion and get up, using my magic to extinguish the candles while I look down at Twilight. She looks so peaceful when she's asleep. If only she could hold on to a fraction of that peace while she's awake. I lean down and whisper an "I love you," into her ear before placing a kiss on it. It flicks against the sensation and she smiles in her sleep. Forget taking a bath, forget even going to court. I could sit right here and watch her for hours. After a minute or so, I pull myself away and step away from the bed. Love makes ponies do strange things, and if I allow it to rule my decision making, the country would fall apart in weeks, if not days, if not the four or five hours it would take Blueblood to insult every single dignitary in the castle. And yet, while I make my way to the bathroom, there's little I can think of but Twilight. Seeing her happy is always a treat, but seeing her in ecstasy, bucking her hips against the air in a climax I brought her to? That's an entirely different level of enjoyment that I can’t get enough of. I may very well be hyperbolic, but I would almost go so far as to say that her pleasure excites me more than anything she could do to me. Stepping into my own bathroom shouldn’t be a strange experience, yet it is. Every single time. The reason, well, reasons, are the gifts that are heaped upon me from day to day. Whatever logic drives dignitaries and the like to give me toiletries is something I still cannot fathom, but it does give my bathroom a different look every time. There’s about half a dozen rugs that the maid keeps swapping in and out, at least, until the Sultan drops by again. Today it’s a crimson affair that’s incredibly soft to the touch. Beyond that is the bath; probably the only permanent feature in the bathroom, consisting of an indent in the floor in the shape of my cutiemark, which is filled with water at all times. It streams in from a small gap in the wall, which leads to a marble sink, and then down into several decorative pools before finally mixing with the rest of the water in the bath. A marvel of aesthetic design which I’ve grown quite fond of. It is, perhaps, one of the few places I can really relax. Right now, however, all I really need is the warm water to clean myself up. The simple, mundane task of cleaning myself is a welcome diversion from the excitement that continues to niggle in the back of my mind. With time, however, that too settles down and I can relax more fully. When it comes time to wash my hair, I find myself with another quandary: Choosing a particular shampoo. Not something I have ever wondered or worried about before. But for the first time I find myself staring at the cabinet that holds the entire gamut of hair cleaning products, without really knowing which one I should use. Twilight is to blame for my indecision. Before tonight, I would simply choose a fragrance that I liked, or a soap that did a particularly good job; but now... now I wonder if Twilight would like one fragrance more than another. Specifically, Sandalwood or Rose. I can’t help but giggle at my own foolishness. For all my knowledge and experience, I really am no better at dealing with these feelings than any living pony would be. Strange how far you are willing to go for the one you love... A musical ditty pops into my head unannounced and I hum along while I work on my mane. Second century classical stanzas are a far cry from the musical melodies of today, but somehow, some of them stuck. I’m halfway through soaping up my tail when my ears perk at an unfamiliar sound. Looking back, the only sight that greets me is of a door to the bedroom I didn’t bother to close, and behind it a bed and Twilight snoring lightly. I can’t help but smile when she snorts and paws at something that exists only in her dreams. It makes me want to go and find my sister, and enlist her help to find out what exactly that is. On second thought... after what I just did to Twilight, perhaps it’s better that I didn’t. After rinsing out my mane, I take a deep breath before immersing myself in the bathwater. There’s no real need for it, but sometimes... sometimes it is nice to test my limits in a way that doesn’t cause widespread panic and or damage. I count the seconds, and then the minutes it takes before my lungs begin to burn with the need for fresh oxygen. Six minutes and twenty-three seconds pass before I have to surface for air, heaving and gasping while I swim to the side of the bath. Leaning against the edge of the bath while I recover always makes me feel... comfortable. Safe. Likely because I've used it for that purpose for so long. I let my mind wander and it settles on a court incident from a few days ago. The court of law, rather than the more amenable kind. A Duke by the name of Earthly Delights was accused by one of his guards of trying to suffocate his wife. The only reason he wasn't convicted was because the wife burst in at the last moment and plead that he was only obliging her in her... fetishes. A humorless smile plays around my lips while I shake my head. Incredible what some ponies find arousing these days. My heart beats in my throat as if to remind me of the fact that I did something not too dissimilar from their play mere minutes ago. Was it pleasurable in any way? a brief moment of silence and introspection confirms that it wasn’t. Of course It doesn’t, all I've ever wanted is loving, romantic, normal, sex. Or do I? Thinking back on how excited watching Twilight leads me to believe that I might have a voyeuristic streak. And then there's the idea I had before. Perhaps I have at least a little bit of an exhibitionist in me as well to which my tail can attest. I had thought that the embers of my excitement had died down a while ago, during my submersion, but it seems like that was only a temporary hiatus. The fire in my nethers returns full force, and taking what I know as true, I can't help but wonder how I would go about indulging in those particular kinks. The first idea that pops into my head is a simple one: enlist Luna and find out what Twilight is dreaming about, whatever it is. Maybe I could even ask her if she wants to watch us make love...or some of her friends? It seems so simple, yet feels so very naughty, and I find that I would really like to try something like that, Twilight permitting. Or even something a little more crazy and audacious, like having Twilight do whatever she wants to me while I hold court. Any and all ideas that come to me for the other side of the coin are much more... wild. Sneaking into the Crystal Castle to spy on Cadence and Shining Armor, for example. Not that I believe Twilight would be very thrilled watching her brother have sex, but you never know for sure. With invisibility spells it would be easy enough to find something, somewhere, though at the same time it doesn’t quite feel right. It’s all very exciting, but I should probably talk to Twilight about it first. Finally, I get out of the bath, looking around to see where in Equestria the maids have put the towel rack this time. There are days where I am convinced that everypony in my immediate surroundings would kiss the ground on which I walked if I allowed them to; and then there's days— or I suppose nights like tonight, where I'm convinced they would put a bucket full of frogs on the door of the bathroom if they thought they could get away with it. Perhaps that is my own fault. I do like to pull a few pranks every now and then, if only because life in the castle would be unbearably dull without them, but it seems that, after Luna's return, they have become more bold in their retaliatory pranks. Or perhaps it is all Luna's doing... My suspicions are just that: suspicions, but the group of suspects capable of pulling off this latest prank shrinks dramatically when I finally find the towel rack; stuck to the ceiling with a simple adhesive spell. Even though the magic released through my hair warms the immediate area around it, it is nowhere near hot enough to evaporate any water. I suppose I could increase the output... but that could cause complications both with the stability of my magic, not to mention the stability of my surroundings. After a moment of deliberation and a shake of my head, I undo the adhesive spell, shielding myself in case it is somehow boobytrapped. For once luck is on my side, or rather, the prankster that put this particular prank together is more benign than I would have thought, which rules out Luna. Which means that, after bringing down the rack I am left with about a dozen towels and not much else. It takes a while, but before too long I’ve gotten the ‘bushy tailed’ of the job description down. Now it’s just a matter of snuggling up to Twilight for the remaining four and a half hours ‘till sunrise, and hope that I can will ‘bright eyed’ into existence by the end of it. A cold shiver travels down my spine. Something feels wrong. Off, in a way that I can’t quite put my hoof on. My ears perk up when another noise, tiny and nigh imperceptible, emanates from somewhere in the room. I am not alone. And the fact that I can’t see anypony doesn’t bode well for the intentions of whomever is trying to sneak up on me. It isn’t the first time I’ve had some creature make an attempt on my life. Despite the obvious fact that their success rate thus far has been... well... zero, there are still enemies of mine who believe that my opposition to their advancement or ideas is most easily solved with a blade. This one, too, will find that I am not easy prey. My heart catches in my throat when I realise that there is somepony in my room who would be. Twilight! I violently suppress the panic that boils to life in my stomach and threatens to make me sick at the thought of losing Twilight, and force myself to be still. Waiting. Listening for the minute signs of my intruder’s presence. I can sense that they are moving closer more than I can either see or hear them. Whoever it is has done a good job of masking their presence; almost perfectly so in fact. It won’t help them. A moment passes in which I’m not sure I want to scream or throw up; the uncertainty about Twilight weighing heavily on the back of my mind. I can’t do either. If they knew I knew, they could get away. They’re getting close now. Nearly close enough... almost... almost... there! With a sudden burst of speed, I sweep my large wings across the bathroom, catching what feels to be a pony judging by the weight, and sending them flying across the room and into the bath. “Invisibility doesn’t help much if your body weight displaces enough water to form an outline in the surface, rogue,” I growl while my attacker struggles to upright themselves in the water. “—and so help me if you’ve harmed Twilight...” I was going to cast a small spell for protection, but the magic gathers in my horn with frightening ease and I end up with a much larger charge than I'd intended. Although I guess that has it’s uses... I level it at my would be attacker, intent on blasting a rather large hole in their chest if they make a move I don’t approve of. In their struggle to get themselves above the waterline, their invisibility spell fades and I find myself aiming my spell of untold destruction at... “...Twilight?” She drags herself to the edge of the bath, coughing and spluttering all the while. My worries about Twilight turn into short-lived horror when the realisation of what I was about to do sinks in. I let the spell diffuse into the surrounding air and race towards her, helping her out of the bath and giving her a once over while she catches her breath. “Twilight, are you alright?” My voice cracks under the emotional pressure. The only thing worse than losing Twilight to an assassin, would be harming her myself. “I...” She coughs a few times. “I think so.” She gets up, testing each of her legs, and then her wings in turn. All of them move like they’re supposed to and she doesn’t wince, which make me sigh in relief. Followed immediately by a burst of anger, that makes me grit my teeth and focus all of my willpower to keep myself from shouting at her. I fail to contain it. "What in the world were you thinking?!” She flattens her ears against her skull and looks at the floor, tracing little circles on it with a hoof. Holdout behaviour from days past, which she would adopt whenever I scolded her for mistakes ranging from rearranging the entire royal library to suit her own tastes, to reversing gravity in the entirety of the castle. “You could’ve gotten... I could have...” Words fail me. How do I properly convey how dangerous... how close I was to... “I wanted to surprise you,” she says softly. “By using invisibility?!” She winces and looks up at me with a sheepish smile. “I did say that you would never see me coming.” Her tone is surprisingly light, which does nothing to lighten the load that settles on my heart. She did say that, didn’t she? The anger that was a roaring fire seconds ago, sputters and fizzles inside my chest, taking all of the strength I had left with it. My hind legs and tush hit the marble of the bathroom with an audible thud and I can do little more than stare into the space just above Twilight’s head. It’s my fault. What I did? I should have known. She specifically told me she would try something like this and I dismissed it. Because I didn’t pay close enough attention, I almost vaporized my marefri— the love of my life. Even after I had sworn I would never hurt anypony I cared about ever again... Cold shivers crop up all over my body and my breath comes up short of the amount of oxygen my body requires. Worse. In my mind’s eye, a battle long since forgotten by time plays out second by agonising second. My stomach lurches and I feel like I’m going to be sick. Twilight is talking; saying something that I can’t make out over the blood rushing through my ears, and gesturing emphatically while doing so. I need to... do something. I have to— My head lurches forward suddenly, aided by Twilight’s hooves which link behind it, and I’m left staring into her lovely purple eyes. She scoots forwards and kisses me, and it somehow makes everything I can imagine less...well... just less. It still takes time for me to crawl out of the despair that seized me, but Twilight, my love, holds me during it all. “I’m sorry, Princess,” she says at length, after I’ve calmed down a little. To my surprise, I find myself smiling. I wish we could stay like this for a week. Just she and I. “How many times are you going to call me by my title?” She laughs in response and kisses me again. “I’m afraid I’ll be making that mistake quite a few more times.” She pulls back her forelegs and leans against my chest with a soft sigh for a moment before speaking up again. “Celestia?” “Yes?” “I uh...” She chuckles nervously. “I don’t know why invisibility was such a big deal, but... can I still...” she trails off and swallows a few times. It’s endearing, and gives me a pretty good idea of what she’s about to say. “Can I make love to you?” I should say no. Between the panic and the anger, I’ve long since burned through whatever passes for composure today, which isn’t even talking about the scant few hours I have before court puts a strain on it again. But when I look down at her, see her breathe in through her nose and exhale it softly while staring at the door and rubbing her cheek against my coat... I only have a yielding affirmative for her. “Yes you can, Twilight.” After the roller coaster ride my emotions have taken, I feel more than a little drained, and decide to let Twilight take the lead. No doubt she has some interesting theories on how intercourse should be established. I sit and observe her as the seconds pass and turn into minutes. She separates from the quasi-nuzzle she was giving me and sits down at the edge of the bath; looking everywhere but directly at me. She's hesitating. Hesitating, while she knows the Kamare Sutra better than most ponies know their neighbours. "Twilight?” Frustration and exhaustion are not advisors, and her name escapes my lips together with a half formed groan of frustration. When she finally looks at me, I feel the urge to slap myself in the face. Uncertainty and fear have made themselves comfortable and shine from her eyes like beacons. Of course she is going to be uncertain when the extent of her sexual experience is limited to what I did to her on my own bed just now. One deep breath later, I find the strength to impose at least some manner of composure on myself. The self chastisement can wait, right now, she needs me to be a teacher. "Where do you want me, Twilight?" I ask her, as gently as I can muster. "I... I don't..." Her ears droop and she slinks away from me, curling in on herself to appear as small as possible. Oh, Twilight... "What is the first rule in the Kamare Sutra, Twilight?" "Make sure that your partner is comfortable,” she replies, quickly. Characteristically textbook perfect, but then... that’s not what’s important right now. “And where do you think I would be comfortable in here?” She looks around surreptitiously before replying: "The bath, although the bed would probably—” Simply by holding up a hoof, I forestall the rest of her sentence. Going back to bed at this stage would defeat the entire purpose of taking a bath. So instead I paint a smile on my face and ask: "And the second rule? "Communication.” Twilight taps one hoof with the other as if she’s summarising from the book directly. “You need to make sure that you and your partner understand one another. The first and most important reason is so that there are no unpleasant surprises during intercourse, while the second is that it will help lead to a deeper and more fulfilling relationship. The level of communication is dictated entirely by your ow—” Rather than hold up a hoof a second time, I lean down and give her a quick kiss. It works just as well as the hoof, and is much more enjoyable. “And taking those two rules into account, what should your next course of action be?” Twilight looks up at me and smiles that special smile that is meant only for me and asks: "Celestia? Will you join me in the bath? I want to make love to you." It's so incredibly corny and textbook that it makes me want to giggle. Yet, at the same time, her earnest expression and the genuine love in her eyes make my heart beat faster, as it does every time that I see her like this. "I would love to, Twilight." She takes one of my front legs in hers and leads me into the bath like a true gentlemare. After I've settled down, she sidles up to me and plants a kiss on my chin, which is just about the highest point she can reach without resorting to either flying or magic. I should really lean down a little to make it easier on her, but her actions are all the more endearing for her effort, and I can’t bring myself to do anything more than what she needs from me. "Sorry for freezing up like that, Princess." I am beginning to hate that title. Coming from her lips, it is nothing short of an admittance of fear. A plea for my indulgence and understanding, even though she has done nothing wrong. Her magic draws a happy sigh from me when she turns it into a scratching tool and gets me behind the ears. I wish there was some way I could help her get over that fear. While she lets her magic do most of the work of roaming through my coat in a fashion typical to her, Twilight herself doesn't remain idle. She tried to kiss me again, and when it doesn't work, she steps away, and rears up so she can place her hooves on my shoulders. For a brief moment, I let the notion of seizing the momentum from her and making her scream my name cross my mind before dismissing it. The smile that accompanies the thought doesn't go unnoticed however. "What are you thinking about?" I look into her beautiful eyes. There's love and caring there, and now, due to my less than neutral smile, a great deal of curiosity as well. "I was merely thinking on how much you've grown during the last year." Even that small bit of praise is enough to send blood to her cheeks, which makes me want to devour her all over again. "I didn't really... I just... I learned a lot from my friends." The prankster in me can't resist putting her answer in the wrong context and my smile grows a little wider still. "You mean I have their promiscuity to thank for your newfound sexual bravery?" I ask, faking shock. Her blush doubles in strength and reaches all the way to the tips of her ears. "N-no!" She sputters. "That's not— I'm not— I didn't do anything like that!" I lick my lips slowly, sensually while I lean forward, embracing her with my front legs to keep her from falling over. "Don't worry, Twilight," I tell her with a giddy edge to my voice which I try my best to disguise as lust. "You can tell me, I won't judge." "No... I... I—" I can't hold it anymore and double over laughing. Twilight looks confused for a second, indignant the second thereafter, and the rest of her expressions are lost to me when she harrumphs and her magic pushes me into the deeper end of the bath. Being submerged does little to diminish my joy, and the moment I surface, Twilight receives a big wave—courtesy of my own magic— which drenches both her and most of the bathroom. The look on her face in the aftermath is priceless, and I laugh wholeheartedly while splashing her again. Before long, both of us are splashing around, using our magic, as well as hooves and wings to pelt each other with as much water as possible; laughing like young foals all the while. Twilight even goes so far as to create a water golem, which I find I can't escape from because the bout of laughter I'm suffering from is debilitating. After being chased around by the living mini-tsunami for a while, it catches up with me, and I'm forced to hold my breath when it does—good thing I can still manage six minutes— before Twilight dispels it in a hurry. After a sputtering cough or two, and brushing my mane out of my face, I find myself near the edge of the bath nearest to the door again. The golem must have carried me along for a while. Embarrassing, but my revenge will be sweet. Working quickly, before Twilight's next attack, I weave a myriad of magical webs, trapping gallon sized globes of water within each of them. It's an old trick I've used since the first time we had one of these fights, but Twilight hasn't yet found a way to defend herself from it. For a brief moment, I see the young lavender filly that ineffectually tried to splash me with her hooves, and smile, only to come face to face with the mare she has grown into when I turn around to unleash my retaliatory strike. She's standing right in front of me, close enough that I can hear her breathing. The smile our water fight coaxed from her, while still present, is fading rapidly, replaced by an expression of intense focus usually reserved for her most favorite books. Time stretches between us, returning to normal only when she lunges, locking her lips to mine in a kiss. It's unexpected. It's exquisite. We both get gallons of water dumped on us when the shock of the sudden kiss makes me forget to maintain the webs I constructed. Twilight pays it no mind and continues to kiss me. Hungrily, desperately. The sensation of the kiss becomes the focal point of my world for a brief moment until it is joined by her magic running through my wings. I don't know how she does it, but while the areas she focuses on are identical to the ones that so worried my guards, the resulting pleasure makes both of them flare out to their full span, rather making me look like a lovestruck teenager than an age old Alicorn. In an instant, all of the passion, and suppressed desire that I've been carrying around for oh so long, sparks and alights like it has never left. It makes it hard to remain standing, given that my legs quiver like they are made of jello while the lips of my nethers clench against nothing but air. It is like the my self control shatters, and everything Twilight does fills me with a desperate need to be touched; made love to; fucked. "Twilight," I gasp in a frenzy of lust after the kiss finally ends, shaking on my own hooves while her magic continues to drive me crazy. "Fuck me." It's short, demanding, and vulgar, and I can't bring myself to care. I need what Twilight can give me. All of it. And within moments, I get my wish. Twilight's web of magic expands past my wings. Enveloping my entire torso, then my neck and head and finally, most importantly, my pussy. The feelings of being caressed everywhere at once is enough to make my legs buckle, but Twilight's magic is there when they do. The caresses are almost enough to send me over the edge by themselves, that's how worked up I am, but Twilight isn't done yet. She watches me intently and drives a cylinder of magic between my drenched lower lips. That alone is enough to send me into an earth shattering climax, but Twilight. My dear, sweet, overachiever of a lover, locks her horn with mine and draws out my magic, using it to link us together in a way I scarcely understand. While my sex ripples along Twilight's magical construct constricting it like a vice, and my body convulses with pleasure, I find myself strangely lucid. I am not alone. Amid the sea of pleasure, I see myself, face contorted in a mask of ecstasy. Yet, I feel anxious, afraid even. I wonder if I've done the right thing; can't believe that I would be so bold; worry that I might be upset or even angry with me. The fear grows until the pleasure is just background noise, and I want to run away, fearing that I've ruined everything. Stupid, so stupid. Days, weeks, Months of research pass me by, intertwined with a feeling of anticipation. That same anticipation is tainted by fear, and cleansed by a spark of courage when I slip into the room behind my own tail. And then I understand what it is Twilight has done. For all my experience, I’ve never before been part of a mindmeld-spell. Mostly because I didn’t know such a thing existed. Leave it to Twilight to prove me wrong, inventive little minx that she is. Opening myself up to the sensations, I see a filly, crying because she's afraid of the dark and feel her fear as though it were my own. A young Alicorn struggling with the doubled burdens of rule now that her sister is gone, feeling the exhaustion and despair as though it happened yesterday. Faster and faster, the images follow one another; the very first sunrise and the elation that accompanied it; an equally elated filly that didn't want to sleep the day she got her cutiemark; petty squabbles; bullies at school; birthday parties; pranks played between sisters; bored in court; bored in a classroom... When it ends, I’ve seen all there is of her, and I imagine she’s seen all there is of me. Even that explanation feels wrong. There’s no ‘I’, just like there is no ‘her’ there’s just... us. “I love you.” I don’t know who uttered the words, perhaps we both did, but I am overwhelmed by the feelings of love and adoration that we feel for one another. And then it ends. I suck in a deep breath and pant when the magic ends. My body is my own again, and even though it seems like an eternity has passed, I’m still orgasming like time stood still. Still subject to my lover’s magic which seems perfectly fine with keeping me at the height of ecstasy for the foreseeable future. All of my muscle ache and tremble. My feathers feel like they were ripped out and then inexpertly glued back on. And my horn may well be on fire. But I have never been happier. With some difficulty, I can see the point at which Twilight regains control of herself, and a soft, needy moan from my lips paints something akin to shock on her face. It doesn’t last, and neither does her magic. When it fades, I drop the few inches she had me suspended, and slump over sideways. Between the aftershocks of pleasure, my exhaustion, and my position on the floor, my field of view is limited to a thin strip of the bathroom, and I can’t help but smile when Twilight cautiously steps into it. Cautious, but no longer hesitant. “Sorry, I didn’t ask,” she says lamely, even though she knows I don’t mind. When I don’t respond, however, she steps closer and tilts her head. “Celestia? Are you okay?” That’s all I need. Using the last of my strength I lunge at her as well as I am able and manage to catch one of her ears between my teeth. I bite on it until she yelps in pain and growl: “Mine.” We remain like that for a while. A long while by my estimate of time, before she lights up her horn and uses it to carefully extract her ear from the trap of my teeth, and then levitating her bone-weary lover over to the bed, water be damned. I am so completely spent that I lack even the strength to form the sentence required to ask her to make love to me again. But I don’t have to. Looking in her eyes, I can tell that she’s thinking of doing just that. There are no secrets between us anymore. No boundaries we are afraid to overstep. Everything was laid bare, and all remains is love. She licks her lips and lowers her head towards my labia, but stops just shy of my outer lips. “Don’t you have court in a few hours?” I can hear her ask, curiously, while tortuously keeping herself inches away from me. I only have one reply. A croaked: “Fuck court.” > Bonus Chapter: Being Watched. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Celestia’s screams of ecstasy fuel my own, and help bring my fourth climax of the night. I lick my lips while I watch them kiss, and revel in the pleasurable aftershocks of my sexual high. I bite my lip to stifle a moan which would undoubtedly give away my presence and quickly wipe away the majority of my ejaculate with a foreleg. It feels sticky and not entirely pleasant when stuck to my coat, but it’s preferable to having my sister and her student— her lover find out that their lovemaking wasn’t exactly... private. I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that my sister and Twilight were involved romantically. Actually, no. From the moment I returned, I could feel that there was a certain... attraction between them. I just cannot believe that they managed to keep it a secret for so long. Especially from me! And this after I ranted to Twilight about the lost art of subtlety... Perhaps I shouldn’t have snuck into Celestia’s room after her... My cheeks flush and my breathing quickens once more when I think about what I’ve seen. The truth of the matter is that I should have left them to their own devices when they started talking about lovemaking. I should have fled the room and gone back to my own. The mental images alone would have been more than enough to ‘do the deed’. But between my sister’s experience and Twilight’s incredible magical attunement, they would certainly have noticed had I tried to slip past the barriers. My vaginal lips clench, winking against the air and make a liar out of me. Okay. Okay. I could probably have slipped past their magical defenses without detection. Especially considering that they are turned to the outside, and their casters weren't exactly paying attention. It is never as hard getting out as it is getting in. The knowledge that they don’t know of my voyeurism, however, brings me such an illicit thrill! To say nothing of the act of watching them itself. They truly are beautiful together, and I’ve already found myself wishing I was in either of their places more than once. I dare say I’m envious. I swallow to lubricate my dry throat and chance another look into the bathroom. Half a glance is enough to make me pull back behind the relative safety of the wall, and scramble for my concealment magic; they’re coming out. Will this be the end of the evening’s festivities? My horn still tingles with the high-yield magic that Twilight flooded the entire room with, and I can’t help but wonder how either of them have any stamina left at all. With a wave of my horn, I pull at the shadows that surround me, and wrap them around myself once more. It takes me another moment to bend the shadows around myself just so in a way that allows me to see from my cocoon of malleable darkness, just in time to watch Twilight magick my sister over to the bed and crawl on there with her. To my surprise, Twilight doesn’t curl up against Celestia like I would have expected her to, but instead lowers herself in preparation of more intimacy. My tail thrashes inside the cocoon and I can hardly suppress a squeal of excitement. Twilight’s words when she looks up from between Celestia’s legs, quickly put a damper on that excitement. “Don’t you have court in a few hours?” Please say that you won’t go, Celestia. Just forget about your duties for— “Fuck court.” “Huzzah!” It isn’t until a few seconds after both of them stop moving that I realise that I might have actually whispered that aloud. Whether I did or not appears to be immaterial as they apparently wish to continue with their steamy lovemaking. My imagination helpfully conjures a very vivid scene showing Celestia doing exactly that. Countless mares and stallions satisfy her sexual needs, and she them in turn. Although for some reason, Twilight is there, too, doing all of those things together with Celestia for whatever reason. Perhaps I cannot picture them being apart? The wet squelches signifying sex resume, as do my sister’s passionate moans, and I am quickly pulled back to the debauchery taking place in front of me. Emboldened by the fact that even my involuntary vocalization hasn’t tipped them off to my presence, magical or otherwise, I cautiously approach the bed. Slowly, lest I break the tenuous spell keeping me hidden, I move up to the edge, my eyes glued to my sister’s dripping sex and Twilight’s muzzle which is all but buried within it. I shouldn’t. It’s dangerous. But watching them turns me on so much that I can’t help myself. Licking my lips, I lower one of my hooves to my own sex, slowly rubbing myself while I watch, mesmerised. Twilight is bolder towards my sister than I would ever have thought her capable of being. She licks, and kisses, and teases like she was born to it. At one moment she is lavishing Celestia's clitoris in a tongue bath. The next, her magic spreads my sister's labia wide enough that I can see her insides ripple, fighting a desperate battle with the magic, trying to coax virile sperm out of a facsimile of an object which doesn't possess any. Or does it? “Oh, Twilight... Fuck yes!” As Celestia’s voice reaches a crescendo, Twilight’s magic pulses inside her and grows in strength. At least, that's what it looks like at first. From the surprised whinny that Celestia lets out while her body writhes against the sheets, and the magic that begins oozing around the cylinder after only a few pulses, I realise that Twilight must have found a way to replicate the experience. Although listening to my sister gives the impression that Twilight’s magical cylinder is pumping her full of liquid pleasure. "Oh my stars, Twilight! Fuck... don't stop!" Celestia cries, and the viscous magic streaming from her gaping sex, easily carrying me to another peak. My body shudders and the metalic taste of blood fills my mouth when I bite my lip to keep myself from moaning aloud. I know one thing for certain: I want to know what it feels like. Finally, after seems like an age, Twilight shuts off her magic. Her legs wobble for a moment and I am amazed that either of them still has the stamina to do... well... anything. She takes a moment to steady herself and then crawls up Celestia's body until they are muzzle to muzzle. Down below, I can see Twilight's renewed excitement, and Celestia's labia, still gaping slightly after the workout she just received. I want to taste it. The thought catches me by surprise, and I shake my head to rid myself of it. Of all the ludicrous, irresponsible ideas, my mind has to come up with the one that will surely get me found out. And yet, I find myself already halfway there. My own nethers are urging me to go straight for the source, and my mind doesn't seem to be inclined to disagree. With a surge of willpower, I pull myself back from the utmost edge. Close enough that I can smell their sweat, and fluids. It doesn't matter. All of it turns me on like nothing I've ever felt, and I quietly sneak back to the side of the bed. "Did you like that, Princess?" Twilight asks her exhausted lover. I can't quite put my hoof on it, but something in her intonation is... different. More sultry perhaps? Celestia's response is too soft for me to make out, but Twilight smiles and kisses her softly. Of course, that makes me wonder what it would be like to feel her lips on my own, possibly while Celestia's make nice with my other set of lips... My excitement sends another few droplets running down the rivulets on my leg, and I can't quite stifle the moan that comes to me at the thought of something so hot. Fortunately, their exhaustion is such that neither notices the sound, and for the second time tonight I skirt the edges of getting caught due to sheer luck. The thought of sneaking in between them and stealing a kiss or two flits through my mind. By now, they seem so out of it that I might be able to do just that, but I’ll have to hurry before they engage one another in another minutes long make-out session. Moving quickly, I circle the bed and climb on close to them. I lean in, pursing my lips, before something makes me stop. Wouldn’t it be much better if they knew you were here? A small voice in my head asks, and I find myself agreeing. All of this sneaking around and watching them rut each other's brains out is a treat, but being able to join whenever I wished would be much more wonderful. I should stay my hooves for now. If they were to discover that I was here, there’s a good chance that everything would fall apart. With a nod to myself that nopony else can see, I pull back, scooching over to the edge of the bed and making for the door, resisting the impulse to continue watching them. Once I’ve left the bed, my movements become much faster. A simple dampening spell to quell the noise and I am all but sprinting for the door, diving into a cloud of stardust which lets me slip through the cracks with ease. After that, my own room isn’t too far off. After materializing in my own room, I head for my desk and pick up a stack of papers that has gone unused for a long time. Picking up a quill, I begin scribbling down ideas, thoughts, and actions that could possibly help me achieve my goal. What I really need to do is observe them. Learn what they like, and dislike. Their most sensitive spots, and what it is that excites them. I smile to myself and lick my lips. I’ll have to make sure to observe them very, very closely. Whenever Twilight is at the castle, I should try and make sure that I’m present for any of their future... encounters. I can feel myself wink against the cold, marble floor. I’m making a puddle again. And after I know all I that I’ll need. I have to be able to gauge their reaction to my presence in a safe environment. A smile plays around my lips when the solution presents itself: My dream realm. If I am cautious, I should be able to draw up a dream like that for both of them. It’s good to be the Princess of the Night.