The Only Chapter
The lateness of the hour tugging at her sleepy eyelids is like an old friend; unwanted, unyielding and consoling in such a mean-spirited way that Luna smiles, not sighs, at the prospect of another night alone. It hurts, smiling. It hurts, glancing at her reflection in the glossy wine glass that sits unfilled. She flinches at her thoughts, desperately searching for another word. Untouched.
Luna narrows her eyes, it is true. All true.
But what a fool of a mare would she be to find solidarity from a worthless, clumsy cup?
The kitchen table shakes, quaking as she taps her fingers into the dead wood. She tries to temper her strength. Breathe. Merely be and exist as if this is simply an ordinary night. But her index finger blasts a hole using incinerating magic and her thumb freezes the surface. Luna thinks of a spell, several spells in fact, to repair the damage she’s made but her will wavers. Why not leave proof of her displeasure? Why not leave a message for the ignorant knave who’s left her, abandoned her, on this night of all nights?
The ice spreads along the black table.
She could return home. Return to Equestria and Canterlot Castle. But no. Not tonight. Not like this.
The ice hesitates, weakly reaching the corners before turning into mere frost. Luna casts a reversal spell. She smiles. It still hurts. Her doppelganger leers at her through the glass. Gleaming in the pitiful rust-colored light that spills out from the dying fireplace. Looming in the dimmer, dwindling orange light from the candles lit on the table.
Luna stares at the painted fool, bemused. Each shade on her figure a sagging and out of place shadow. The color of her exquisite dress, now a cheap and pale runny red. In her madness, she has donned a blood-red velvet dress with a split along the hip almost obscene and starry hair pinned in a side-bob. Her black heels hangs like iron weights around her feet. Her wrists shackled with bracelets of silver and gold.
Is it wrong to wish that this is some sort of poorly thought joke?
Surely, her beloved wouldn’t have done this on purpose. Surely, he would have realized what night this was? Did he think it was merely Date Night? Did he think that this, upon the many occasions they rescheduled and re-booked and promised for next time, always next time, that tonight was an acceptable night for them to be apart?
Her body feel hot, trapped in this dress. Her knees push against the tight fabric, inching the hem further and further up her midnight-blue thighs. Luna leans back, attempting to pull it down and look respectable. She deserves this, trying to wear a thousand-year-old dress. It suits her to be spilling out physically in this fabric prison. Breasts ballooning out of her front. Hips forcing the fabric to retreat higher. An old dress, Luna hadn’t expected to wear it for hours. She was so sure that once her beloved saw her in it, he’d be relentless to get her out of it.
Her hand grazes the valley of skin, each finger trailing up with a feather-light touch as it reaches where the skirt has bundled around her upper thighs. At the very end, Luna’s index finger doesn’t reach for the wayward hem. For a moment, an innocent second, Luna pretends that someone else is touching her. It misses its mark. Plunges in. Sensually touching the front of her black lacy panties.
Luna jerks in surprise, immediately trying to pull her naughty finger free. But her thighs are so tightly held, her finger is squished between her thick thighs. The only bit of space where it can get freed is the place where her legs meet, Luna thinks, sitting up and trying not close her eyes. She directs her finger, rubbing it against the lace and the black fabric that steadily grows wet. Sweet hints of pleasure make their way up her spine as her finger disturbs her folds and lower lips surrounding her now very much awake clit. Luna’s eyes fall halfway and she cups her face with her free hand, pinching her cheeks to stay quiet. Her finger slides deeper, tentatively brushing against where her clit strains against her underwear.
The first touch makes her gasp, arch shamelessly into the intruding finger. The second touch teases, circling around her clit. Luna moans into her hand, another finger on the way to join the other. Her thighs widen in anticipation, goosebumps decorating her arms as she chases the fledling pleasure. The black panties is soaking, squelching to her every back-and-forth sway. Her index finger make a hook and parts the bridge of her panties to the side.
Heat. Ah, wondrous heat and moistness greets the tip of her finger.
Mmm, she bites her lip.
Her finger wanders, exploring her pink quivering folds and horny impatient clit. Her hips tremble. Her sweet juice trickles shamelessly between her thighs, seeping through the bottom of her dress. The smell, the aroma of her pleasure, a mix of cinnamon and unknown spices fills her nostrils. Her body sweats, glistening as her arousal intensifies. With her free hand, she gropes her breasts. Palming them. Lightly slapping them. Even with her bra on, the sensation travels. Rippling through her luscious mounds and perking nipples that have gone neglected.
Luna pants, blushing and embarrassed and needy for something more than just a finger.
She closes her eyes and imagines something else pushing through her thighs, a cock, a meaty cock pushing through her tender entrance. The cock is big and thick, the head pressing up against her hole in wild abandon. Then she envisions a pair of hands, tugging up her dress and removing entirely her panties. Her legs are stretched wide, her horny untouched and unfilled pussy on display.
"Please," she might moan. "I need this," is something else.
Meaningless babble as the cock's head sinks slowly, cruelly inside of her. Her hips buck, her legs try to find some sort of purchase, something to hold on. Luna tries to use her hands to grab ahold of this creature, this man fucking her. But her arms are pulled over her head, held there by another pair of hands. And soon comes another pair, taking her face and opening her mouth. Luna struggles weakly, a mere act than anything else, when another cock is pressed against her lips, silently asking to be let inside. She parts her lips and her tongue comes out. With long, leisurely strokes, she licks the shaft. Pre-cum dribbles out, staining the front of her dress and her fur. It sinks between her blushing titties, coating them in creamy, erotic white.
Another pair of hands rip the straps off her dress, pushing down the top and exposing her black bra. And then her bra is given the same treatment, thrown away to fall on the floor. Those very same hands play with her titties, squeezing and rubbing them. Her ocean-black nipples are roughly pinched and twisted. Then yanked and rolled between fingers.
Luna submits to the treatment, her wings restless on her back. They flex and flap, blood filling them as her orgasm comes near. Her body arches, her mind wanders, fueling her imagination. Wanting every hole, every space on her body to be touched and fucked and held. The cock on her lips pushes in and she lets it into her mouth. It's so thick and filling, soundly stuffing her mouth. Luna hums, letting the cocks thrust inside. They move in sync, the one in her pussy and the one in her mouth. Her chair shakes from the force of two dicks pleasuring her, thrusting, cumming in both her holes. Like a geyser, cum shoots off inside her mouth, the liquid salty and tangy on her tongue.
Below, it gushes inside of her pussy. The amount cumming, and cumming, to such an extent, that it her belly quickly expands. Sloshing and pudging out from her formerly flat stomach.
Luna wonders what she looks like, a blueberry dumped inside of a bowl of white pudding? Her dress is in tatters. Her body painted in the essence of others' manhoods. What if her beloved came in right now and caught her in such a state? Would he be angry? Would he be disappointed? She can see him in her mind's eye, yanking her up and bending her over the table. The cum in her pussy would rain down her legs, smearing them in so much white that she would resemble Celestia from behind. Would he call her slut, a wanton whore for wanting to be fucked so vivaciously? And then he'd thrust right into her, roughly using her, punishing her for her lack of faith. But the trick would be on him, she laughs. Gentle or rough, Luna loves it all.
Panting and moaning, Luna limply turns her head to the side. More, she wants more. The floating hands on her breasts float over to her knees, pulling them up and apart. The cock in her inside of her slides out, a mess of cum and her own feminine fluid. It has little to go as it moves down to her ass, pressing against the virgin hole. Another pair of hands grasps her toned ass cheeks and plays with them, leaving red angry handprints as she is spanked. Her slender cheeks make the most arousing noise, flesh upon flesh. Her butt, plump and bubble-shaped, jiggles from the treatment. Buttflesh molding to the shape of the hands, growing tender and hot. Her pussy aches and drips, her clit absorbing the secondary waves of the sensation spreading from her bottom rear. She might just cum from spanking alone. Her hips buckle, increasing the rhythm. The cock before her ass grows hard, pre-cum drizzling out of the head as it presses against her pucker.
Fuck her. Fuck her now!
Then the cabin creaks. Luna pales. She yanks her finger free, fixes her clothes and sits up. She waits, wishing to see a figure turn around the corner. Words fly into her mind, some cutting, some forgiving. She lifts up her head, eyes searching for movement or sound. She is alone. The hour is even later. She claps her hands together, praying for the tell-tale sounds of the front door creaking open, shoes shuffling across the hardwood floor, and perhaps, some apology take-out that her beloved is so fond of dispensing.
Luna closes her eyes, imagining the man sneaking up behind her. His hands brushing the few stands of hair away from the back of her neck and leaving a kiss on the skin there. Then another, higher. Then again, now on her ear. Luna remembers the sensation, a mix of soft flesh and heat pressing against her vulnerable ear. He’d kiss it and kiss it, sending her in a frenzy. Equine ears aren’t meant to be played with so freely. And Luna would allow it, desire it time and time again, lean back, and take in those lips.
It feels so real, him here, that she opens her eyes, dazed. Angles her head back. Awaiting that loving kiss. Her ears twitch, flicking as if they’d been spooked.
She blinks after a while.
She slumps after a while.
He’s not here.
It is just her imagination running away with her or better yet, without her.
With the clock on the store impudently reminding her of the time, ‘1:00, 1:00’ in bright neon numbers, she gives in. Misery loves company. Luna take out the phone from her purse, a gift from her beloved, and thumbs through the apps.
It’s hard to understand this little toy, a preferred method of communication among the humans. More often than not, she short-circulates the device. It being miserably weak, barely withstanding even the docile magic her alicorn body releases on a daily basis. Even now, the smart phone's screen glitches. The little battery bar jumping from a healthy ninety percent to a sickly ten percent and back. Finally, she finds what she’s looking for. The camera function despite the phone’s hysterics about a virus amuck in the system. The miniature photo icon stands out against the phone’s wallpaper, a snapshot of the two, her and him, enjoying the nightlife of a lakeside beach. Her finger freezes, brushing along the unfeeling glass where she and him were holding hands, carefree as lovers.
Luna blinks back her frustration, her annoyance and her distaste for what has become of them. Tonight, even without the particulars, is date night. Not, ‘Let’s reschedule because I have a important meeting to attend in the morning.’ How long has it been since they last seen each other? Two, three months? How long will it be until they see each other? Two, three centuries?
Luna scoffs. She is no one’s kept mare.
Taking the phone, she takes a ‘selfie’ and sends a message. The phone’s flash is a bright and blinding thing, making her blink furiously to banish the stars in her eyes. She wonders how her beloved will react, stuck with his co-workers in that awful office building. How will he feel to know where she is? At his family’s cabin without him? Luna takes another selfie, crossing around the living space while posing. She smirks in the next selfie. She makes the Earthling peace-sign in the one after that. A trip they had been planning, and planning, and planning for months to have. She knows he comes up here from time to time. To get away from the city and the work he slaves over. The fridge is stocked. The floors swept and mopped with care. There’s not a trace of dust anywhere.
The phone vibrates in her palm. Ah, it seems he’s gotten her messages.
I’m sorry I couldn’t make it tonight. -B
I’m sorry I couldn’t wait for you tonight. -L
Luna, please. -B
You know that my company has been working on this huge deal behind the scenes. -B
I can’t afford to leave. Not for a few more hours. -B
I have to make sure none of these knuckleheads leave as well. Don’t act like you haven’t been busy yourself. -B
I made time for Date Night. I expect the same as from my partner. -L
Do you know what night this is? This is the night I fought with my sister for control of Equestria. -L
This would have been the first time I spent it with another living soul. -L
And where are you? -L
Luna dismisses his next text and blows out the candles, letting in the night. The fireplace is nothing but embers. Texting him didn't make her feel any better. Luna strolls into the master bedroom, a mist of sex and uncomfortably wet panties follow her in. She leaves the phone onto the dresser as she unclasps the sides of her red dress. The fabric shimmies down to rest on her hips.
Luna struts around to the mirror and poses.
Her breasts, triple-gs, are happy to be freed from being pinned up against such uncooperative fabric. She stares at her bra, a lacy and black mermaid-style bra. Her insignia is sown into the cups, floating over where her nipples might have been shown pocking through the body-clinging fabric. She holds her girls, her breasts, and thinks of something hilarious. She takes back the phone and takes another selfie, thrusting her titties forward. One of the bra's shells sinks in and she has a nip-slip, one lonely and unsucked nipple sticks out.
Guess where I am? -L
______ -B
______ -B
I'm on my way. -B
Then she takes off the rest of her dress, swiftly catching it before it falls to the floor and folds it onto a nearby chair. Luna moves to the bed and catches a familiar scent. Him. Her beloved always carries the bookish smell of paper and ink and that masculine odor that makes her intoxicated.
Luna tugs off her heels and slides into bed, sniffing the sheets. It smells like him. So much like him. She smiles, ass wagging in pleasure. Luna rolls over to his side of the bed and nestles into the space that’s been left there. She closes her eyes and finds sleep non-forthcoming. Smelling so much like him, it’s almost like he’s here. With her eyes still closed, Luna allows a hand to wander. Her right hand makes it to her bra, tugging up the shell and caressing her nipple. Instead of her soft hand, she tries to imagine a large hand, a male hand stroking her in her sleep. Her nipple grows hard, the nub straining to meet with each swipe of his thumb. The male hand wanders from that breast to the next, pleasuring the other nipple.
Luna turns over in bed, feigning sleep as her horn glows and she magically unclasps the bra and places it to the side.
With her beloved's smell all around her, Luna decides to leave her own mark as well.
Warming his bed for his arrival, she deserves this very much.
Laying with her belly to the mattress, Luna places her ass in the air. She touches herself through her panties, staining the black fabric with her sweet, fragrant juices. Up and down, her fingers brush against her clothed clit and her body writhes. Leaning and chasing the motion of her hand.
The phone vibrates on the shelf and Luna purrs, unsatisfied. A door creaks and she ignores it. Luna magicks the phone over and sits in the bridge of her panties. It vibrates, rubbing against her aching pussy. The little screen shines through her underwear, illuminating the moist cave it sits in front of. She rocks into it, body shaking as her climax comes near. Just a little more. Luna strokes her breasts, tugging and squeezing her nipples. Her body shivers and quakes. Luna pants, so close to release. And then she cums, her mind goes white and everything, everything is absolutely alright.
She takes out the phone and takes another photo, sending it with a wiry smile.
I made a mess in your bed. -L
What are you going to do about it? -L