MILF backwards is FREUD
Rarity was fussing over the highlights in the third of Twilight's mane-style trials when she saw him for the first time.
Him.
Spike the dragon. The adorable little bundle of underage scales that had wandered into Ponvyille with Twilight that afternoon like an armadillo in that one famous movie about a family of ponies who finds an armadillo and lives with it1.
Him, though. Spike the dragon. Rarity had heard all sort of stories, looked all sorts of... colorful, fancy illustrations from around, well, anywhere she could get them. But always an artist's interpretation never... the real thing, in the scales, eyeing her awkwardly from afar, no doubt hoping she wouldn't notice his peeking gaze.
Oh, she had noticed, alright. And something in the back of Rarity's mind went into overdrive. An instinct right between 'mother' and 'lover' that came out 'horny, deliberate seductress'. The target was right in front of her eyes. All she had to do was reach out and take it.
"Hmm..." Rarity said to herself aloud, suddenly, making a 'tsk-tsk' with her tongue and pulling away from her attempt at giving Twilight a stylish perm. "No, this simply won't do. I think we'll have to start from the ground up. Apply some exfoliating lotion, and something to do about all those split ends..." Rarity tsk'd again, holding up a supposedly guilty strand of Twilight's mane in her hoof.
"Um, thank you, for all this, but we really have to—"
"Oh not at all, my dear, never you worry. We're just getting started. Now, take these—" Rarity shoved a stack of hair-care products, shampoos conditioners and after-care gels, into Twilight's hooves. Twilight struggled to balance the tiny tower, letting the final bottle teeter nervously on the edge of its balance. "—and head into the bathroom. It's the first room down the hall on your left. Treat yourself to a nice, warm shower—" Rarity threw a pristine white towel to Twilight over-top of the hair-care products, which covered Twilight's face as well. "—and when you're all done, we'll have you out the door looking as fresh as a daisy! Or, well... perhaps something slightly more chique. Are violets in season this time of year, perhaps? Or maybe a carnation bouquet..."
Twilight found herself opening her mouth to protest, only to shut it wordlessly. The voice in the back of her own head said "the longer you try to fight it, the worse it's going to get."
Go have a shower, it said afterwards. It'll be nice to get away from all these crazy ponies for a moment.
Good point, Twilight said back. She smiled to herself and headed down the hall to the bathroom.
Rarity waited until she heard the soft clunk of the door shutting, and the latching of the knob into place, before she spun and turned her gaze on the tiny dragon still standing awkwardly in a corner of the room. The second Rarity looked at him, Spike stared straight down at the ground and kicked the dust nervously, trying his best to hide the fact that he had been staring with hearts in his eyes since the second he walked in to Carousel Boutique.
At the benefit of Spike's oblivious downward stare, Rarity smiled the most nefarious smile she could muster. It was time to be very, very bad.
"My heavens. Have you been waiting patiently there this whole time? And our miss Twilight didn't even take the time to introduce you." Rarity curved her smile into a more welcoming grin and extended a lady-like hoof to her tiny would-be suitor.
Overcome as he was by stammering, Spike still managed to take Rarity's hoof into his claws, eyes beaming, and kiss it gently. Just like he'd imagined when he first walked in.
Rarity held her other hoof to her mouth and giggled to herself. Perhaps this was going to be easier than she'd thought.
"Rarity," she said. "Absolutely charmed. And you, my dear?"
"Huh?" Spike shook his head slightly, his eyes unfocused, staring in the general direction of Rarity and then phasing out into space. He managed to remember where he was after a moment. But the pony in front of him was something from a dream. "Oh, right... I'm, uh, Spike. Spike the dragon."
"So you are a dragon!" Rarity's smile gleamed brilliantly at Spike as she wormed her way closer, putting her foreleg around the whole of Spike's tiny dragon body and pulling him against her.
Spike could feel the warmth of Rarity's coat against his miniature purple scales. A shiver ran down his spine, and a sigh eked its way out of his chest.
"Yeah..." Spike said absentmindedly, half in response to Rarity, half out of pure bliss, his body already floating away on some cloud in the heavens, just to be next to a pony this beautiful, a pony who wanted to talk to and pay attention to him... if this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up2.
"Well, I must admit... even in all my cultured affairs, vacationing around Equestria on business and pleasure... I've never . . . . .'d a baby dragon before. Tell me... do your scales require any special upkeep?" Rarity raised a hoof to the spines protruding from Spike's back. Slowly, in a single, languid motion, she stroked along the length of the spines, all the way down to the tip of Spike's tail, and then back up to the base of his neck. She finished with a tiny circle on that spot, rewarding herself with multiple shivers and another self-contained giggle.
"My... scales?" Spike looked just for a second at the place Rarity had touched him, half-expecting it to glow with a new golden sheen. "Uh..." Then he looked back at Rarity. And it was his first chance to really take a look at her.
Spike had felt his heart beat faster the moment he stepped inside the boutique, and before now he'd thought that was just some cliche that ponies wrote about in stories. I mean, he'd legitimately wondered if he had a previously undiagnosed fatal heart condition or something. Then he started to get short of breath, and his head got all floaty and his vision got all blurry and if it was any other circumstance he would have put himself under government-approved quarantine.
But there was her.
Spike had never seen anypony so adult or sophisticated before. Coming from Canterlot, it was one thing for every other pony to put on airs of sophistication, fancy garments they'd spent loads of bits importing only to wear for one week before they became suddenly and dramatically unwearable. Hob-knobbing with the princess, taking every opportunity just to drink punch in their vicinity if it meant somepony had seen you do it. Giving in-depth music reviews of over-produced pop albums from thirty years ago... wait, what was that last one?
Something about Rarity oozed authority—not the scary kind, like Twilight yelling for help carrying study supplies, or a police pony shouting over his shoulder in the street and filling him with the sudden sensation he was guilty of every crime yet invented and some that hadn't been, even though he hadn't done anything illegal since he'd stolen that package of bubblegum when he was two, and he didn't think anypony knew about that anyway, unless they'd just found out now, and were coming to lock him down. He'd be better off just turning himself in, probably. But then somepony had run off in the other direction carrying a comically large sack with a weird cross-thru 'S' on it, and the police pony had seemed much more interested in that, and Spike had a long time to think about what to do with the year's collection of sweat he had rapidly accumulated.
Rarity was demure. Regal, almost, even though Spike was certain the only pony royalty worth paying much attention to was Princess Celestia. Even though she wasn't an alicorn, her mane seemed to shimmer and glow just like the rainbow tapestry that made up Princess Celestia's. And a shimmer surrounded her, as though her fur had been brushed by hoof a hundred times, a thousand maybe, or was made of pure silk...
Maybe there was a secret, royal lineage, running even deeper than alicorn blood, and the pristine white and purple pony Spike had fallen in love with was the last remaining heir to that heritage of beauty and sublime resonance. Spike made a mental note to look up what the word 'sublime' meant again. Every time he checked, the definition seemed to change, as though somepony was rewriting it based on a dice-roll every afternoon. Very odd. Or sublime. Maybe?
For a reason just outside the periphery of his ability to be conscious of it (and therefore most likely because it was the result of repressed childhood trauma or parental insufficiency, or both), Rarity reminded Spike of his mother. No, not Twilight... she was more like a bossy older sister who was too busy barking chores at him and leaving her dirty underwear around to be interesting or sexy. But Rarity... did she even wear underwear? Did it have... Spike felt a huge gulp like a solid stone go down his throat... did it have... lace?
There was the way she looked at him, tilting her head down just a bit, her eyes closed just a little. Smiling at him, softly, as if to say "Spike, darling, I've waited so long to meet you."
I can't wait to show you what we're going to do together, came the other half, unspoken in Rarity's sneaky subdued grin. 'Motherly' was about what she was going for. 'Head instructor with a schoolboy fetish' wasn't far off either though. Because there was that to talk about.
Spike was an adorable little thing, of course. Only about the size of a colt or filly from Ponyville. But not, therefore, the same level of maturity. Dragons and ponies were much different, after all. And it was that difference, or rather, the resultant overlapping Venn diagrams that Rarity couldn't help but focus her attention on.
Always, she'd had a fantasy, or more like a dream, she would call it, as the pieces were blurry and came together only when her focus was elsewhere, impossible to recapture even from the immediate exit from the dream-world that came right before waking up. Always, she knew, it was her in control. Not a strict control, nothing like the efficiency she snapped to-and-fro in the boutique with, yanking thread and spinning wheels and tossing needles about haphazardly with only practice to protect her from spearing something important. A more reassuring, gentle control, as though she was guiding the last seam on a dress to its final stitch. Or watching over somepony's back as they held the needle, guiding them with her own hoof as they laced it with thread. She had imagined a cute little colt, smiling up from her lap as she smiled back at him, a little kiss on the forehead.
Of some young pony, eyes wide in disbelief, as she gave that same, motherly smile, and lowered her dripping slit onto their underage cock.
Rarity shivered. That was how it always ended. That and a bit of cleanup afterwards. Rarity was a very immersive dreamer.
But a dragon? A real life, in the flesh-and-claws-and-scales actual baby dragon? Who could smell gems and breath fire and seemed already rich and mature with strange, foreign dragon smells Rarity had never encountered before, like mixed earth and gunpowder... Ooh. She could feel herself yielding already, prematurely. Get it together, girl. We've waited this long already.
And it was nothing like a plan. Rarity had always fancied herself a seductress, a lusty and vivacious lover raised exclusively on a diet of Canterlot romance novels and no actual real life experience, except for a series of long-distance trysts by post that she'd had the months after discovering the 'Ponely No-More' singles service. Apparently after the part where you exchanged salacious descriptions about what you envisioned yourself doing to your absentee partner's theoretical body, and they wrote back with more of the same, there wasn't really much that Rarity was interested in, romantically, from the textual format. She needed something real, next to her, standing or sitting or just there for her to reach out and touch. She'd parted with her suitors on good terms, anyway. She still had their letters, in a box upstairs in the second drawer of her bedside table.
It was more like... when she was young, just a filly, and she'd seen those movie posters and novel covers and photos in magazines of the fancy colts from Canterlot, or the even more eye-catching ones from overseas, who to young Rarity had seemed strange and foreign, and as a result even more exotic and desirable. Griffons and Zebras and Yaks and anything else she could imagine, there was a whole world of perfectly-carved available bachelors, and she lusted over them in secret long into her teens, cradling a deep-down wonder if she'd ever be able to count herself pretty enough to fit among the mares in a gender-equivalent magazine some day in the future.
She'd taken a lot of care of herself, since young, since always. She still did. And she'd been with stallions, one or two. But the whole thing was always so... rehearsed. As though she'd seen the blueprint in a play once, and now was meant to recreate it with her best half-remembered lines and awkward stage directions. Did they kiss now? When was the kiss? After the kiss, stage-lights? When did the musical number happen? When do I bow?
None of them seemed interesting outside the first few dates anyway. Simply over-sized colts, interested in kissing and bucking but not much else.
Spike was a green-and-purple treasure trove waiting to be uncovered.
And Rarity had a talent for finding gems.
But that was forward. Now, the two of them were simply alone together.
'Alone together' could go a long way, in Rarity's experience.
The hardest part—she surmised for herself, at the beginning of things, no less—would be keeping her intentions well enough disguised not to overwhelm the poor thing. To ease him into a world of carnal pleasure, not to douse him in lusty stares and send him running off with his tail between his legs. The word of the art was delicacy. Or depravity. She wasn't sure which yet.
"You know, it's just occurred to me," Rarity said, her eyes shimmer mischievously, "that while miss Twilight is in the shower, it's just the two of us here."
Spike looked around, maybe for help, and found the boutique empty, to Rarity's credit. He swallowed nervously with a loud gulp.
"Why don't you come have a seat next to me, and we can get better acquainted, you and I?" Rarity patted a set of plush, purple velvet cushions that had materialized rather conveniently nearby, one of which she sat in herself.
"Okay!" Spike rocketed forward with his feet scrabbling over the delicate imported rug. The delicate imported rug which, proving adverse to rapid scampering, quickly vacated from under Spike's claws.
Rarity's horn glowed a bright violet, and she caught the tiny dragon, claws still swinging rapidly, and levitated him into the seat next to her. His claws calmed after a few more seconds.
"Oh... uh... thanks," Spike said. He swallowed another of the new and renewing lumps that were setting up shop in the bottom of his throat.
"Not at all my dear. Now, do tell me about yourself. You're from Canterlot as well, correct?" Rarity leaned in slightly towards Spike just nudging him with her shoulder.
Spike tried in vain to keep his eyes from flickering to the brief contact point. He returned his eyes to Rarity's, but found it equally challenging to stare directly into such a beautiful object.
"Um... yeah." It was the best he could manage.
"Good heavens! Such a debonair and diminutive draconic flair! You must be quite the hit with all the ladies in Canterlot, I'd wager." Rarity's motherly grin shifted subtly into a smirk, but she caught it, and corrected herself after a brief moment.
"Ladies?" Spike looked down at his feet, which couldn't even reach the floor of the boutique from his cushion. "Um... no. Not, uh. Not really."
Rarity held her hooves to the side of her face and gasped audaciously. Gaaaasp. I should get a Whinny award for this, she thought. That's what we're calling them now. Because a horse pun is more important than coherence, according to the board of directors.
"Well, surely they're the ones missing out, my dear." Rarity patted Spike on the top of his head. Spike touched the spot with one of his claws, and stared at the claw afterwards, as though expecting it to glow.
"Yeah..."
"But, you must at least have a filly-friend at your age, no?" Rarity raised an eyebrow suggestively.
"Uh... no. No filly-friend. Not, uh, ever, actually..."
"Never?" Rarity redoubled her feigned shock, swooning a little in her chair for good measure. Never a bad time to suggest you might faint from the pure audacity of a situation. Whatever it was being audacious about. "Well, my dear, that simply won't do. A young thing like yourself should be simply smothered in the affection of the fairer sex..." Rarity put a hoof to her mouth, continuing to follow the choreographing of her hind-brain's insidious impromptu teleprompter. A blender half-full of her favorite romance novels, half-full of genuine, patented, one of a kind Rarity-smut. She could practically taste victory—and it tasted like dragon cum. Which, she assumed, tasted like vanilla yogurt.
"Tell me, Spike... if you and I were on a date right now, what would you do next, hmm?"
"A date?!" Spike felt his heart-rate increase by at least ten beats per minute, and the sweat on his forehead to accompany it. Somepony like Rarity, on a date with him? He'd probably jump for joy and do somersaults of celebration before he got on with anything else. Although..
"Well," Spike said, kicking at the air with his dangling feet, "I guess I'd... well... I'd hug you?"
Rarity practically jumped out of her cushion cheering for him. Her smiled shone brilliantly. "Wonderful! Yes, Spike, a hug is always a splendid idea, as a chance to get to know one another, or just to feel that bit of comfort, having somepony pressed against you... Of course, to ensure no misunderstanding, it is always proper to ask a lady permission first. 'May I hug you', you know, can go a long way, in clearing up potential miscommunications."
"Oh." Spike felt suddenly ten times more nervous. He had to ask permission? What if she said no! On the other claw, what if she said yes... Was that a common expression? Other claw? Spike swore he'd heard 'other hand', but he wasn't sure what exactly a 'hand' was, now that he thought about it... Geez. This was no good. He needed to focus. What if she said yes?!
"Um... Rarity, may I uh... is it okay if I, please, uh... hug, uh, you? Ahem." Spike cleared his throat excessively throughout, and at the end of his query. And then he thought, wait, did I actually say 'ahem' at the end of my sentence? 'Ahem'?
"Of course you may, my dear." Rarity snapped the poor confused thing back to reality by reaching out and taking him into her loving, delightfully forward-thinking embrace.
The warmth was like the ocean, suddenly swallowing him up, in soft blankets and scented candles that made his head spin. Rarity was holding him... pulling him close, so close he was sure he could feel her heart beat against his chest. Her hooves were on his back, snuggling him in closer still. Her nose was nuzzling against his cheek, his cheek, she was practically touching his mouth, no, now she was nuzzling his neckohmigosh what was that feeling—
Spike shivered as the tiny jolt went up his back, like a procession of miniature lightning bolts marching across his scales.
Before he knew it was happening, Rarity had pulled away, leaving just a hoof on one of Spike's shoulders.
"Marvelous. I can tell you're going to be a wonderful student in no time, Spike."
Spike looked nervously downward between his legs, pressing his knees together slightly. "Um... yeah. Thanks... I mean, thank you."
Rarity couldn't hide this smirk. Her unplanned plan was working hashtag perfectly.
"Now, once you've been on a date for a while, and you've hugged once or twice, and discussed each others' interests—imported fashions and a good Prance opera, though we can talk about that later, I'm sure—what do you suppose you might do next, hmm?" Rarity couldn't help the lean in either, nudging herself suspiciously close to her mark. But the target was so tangibly close now. She could feel it against her coat and skin, could almost taste it hiding between those cute little crossed legs...
"Um... after hugging?" Spike was in unfamiliar territory now. What was supposed to happen after that? As far as Spike was aware, hugging was the end-all-be-all of romantic exchange. Except for... but she couldn't mean... unless... no... with him?
"Do you mean... kiss... kissing?" Spike asked, managing to get the words out after several timid pauses.
Rarity nodded at him, her eyes sultry, sparkling eye-shadow glimmering under the boutique's dressing-room light.
Spike swallowed again. This time the lump was lodged permanently in his chest. He cleared his throat, coughed once, but to no avail.
"Spike." Rarity stilled the poor thing, placing a hoof to his lips. "Do you remember to ask permission?"
Spike nodded, his eyes dead-set on Rarity's. Hypnotized.
"Uh-huh," he murmured through her hoof.
"Then go right ahead, my young prince," Rarity said, giggling as she removed her hoof.
"Um... Rarity... may I... oh geez... Can I really kiss you?" Spike couldn't help that either. He jumped up on his cushion, standing as close as he could to Rarity's face. Still much shorter, it wasn't a perfect distance. But then Rarity leaned in, so close their faces were almost touching. Spike could feel her breath on his lips.
"You may," she said simply.
Spike leaned forward and kissed her.
He tried to do it like he had seen in the movies—you put one handclaw (somebody call editorial about that - ed)3 on either side of their face, and then you kind of smooshed up your lips, or, you looked like you were eating their mouth while trying to hide their chin at the same time—
Oh.
Real kisses were nothing like that, were they?
It was hard to put into words. If someone had asked Spike to describe the feeling, he probably would have just said "Gjbhuh?" and walked away dazed, remembering the sensation but unable to ever articulate it in anything close to a meaningful way.
Here's a shot.
Rarity was in control, for one. The way she'd kissed him, no waiting to be kissed, felt like she meant business. Spike wasn't used to somepony just using him like that—unless you counted Twilight's chores—and this was a distinctly different and far more overwhelming sensation. Rarity wanted the best for him. Rarity liked him. Rarity cared about him. All that from the way she pulled his head forward and planted her lips on his.
That was the first part.
The second part was that Rarity seemed to really know what a kiss was, and she was taking Spike for a grand tour around every attraction in the park, as long as it was open.
She kissed him harder than he thought kisses happened, for one. It felt like she was smushing her lips into his as hard as she could without being silly about it. And even then... she was a little silly about it. But it made Spike want to be silly too, and suddenly silly didn't feel silly anymore, it felt awesome, and then like a contest to see who could do it more and better.
Rarity went from just kissing, to sneaking her tongue in. She'd lap playfully at Spike's bottom lip, or dance around his tongue inside his mouth, daring him to come out and play for himself. Eventually, Spike joined her, finding his own tongue's urge to play, and then, what an urge. Spike's dragon-tongue was much longer and more flexible than Rarity's, and for the first time, she wondered what exactly she'd gotten herself into as the young lizard began to snake and curl around her tongue, to lick gently at it as she did her best to copy the motion... Ooh, she hadn't just been all talk before. This dragon was good.
Too good to spoil on just one kiss.
As Rarity pulled away, Spike panted to catch his breath. He'd seemed to have forgotten to breathe during the duration of the smooch, and now his chest was ranting at him for it. So be it. A small price to pay for wet-dream fuel for the next ten years.
But Rarity wasn't done yet. And her devilish smirk suited her so, with one eyebrow raised ever so slightly, her lady-like habits stretched into a devil temptress's smile.
Despite all his obvious enthusiasm, Spike was still hiding the one place that counted.
Rarity eyed the young dragon's scrunched up posture with her eyebrow still raised. Spike, oblivious, still reeling from the most chemicals and hormones he'd ever endured in his young brain in the span of a minute, didn't notice Rarity's stare, nor did he notice the soft push of her magic as she spread his legs ever-so-slightly—just enough to give her visual confirmation of the prize she'd been waiting for.
"Do you know what else some ponies like to do on dates that's very fun?" Rarity asked, worming her way as close as she could get to Spike without actually touching him. Letting her warm breath tickle his chest and neck, watching the tingles go up his body.
Spike shook his head. Words were hard now. The 'uh's were already excessive. He sounded worse than Twilight on a book report day. But still, he'd better...
"No?" he wagered, his voice raising slightly.
"Well," Rarity said, her grin beaming, "would you like me to show you?"
Spike nodded, wide-eyed. "Uh-huh," he said.
"Then it would be—" Rarity dove between Spike's legs, and found the delicious morsel she had been eyeing: Spike's painfully hard, underage dragon cock.
She took one good look at it. Pink. A soft pink, almost reassuring. It looked so different than the one's she was used to... without warning, the small dampness in-between her own legs had turned to a flash-flood, and her body was screaming at her to get the act on with so she could really sink her teeth into the morsel in front of her...
Then she put it in her mouth. Halfway, with her tongue circling the tip. And she looked up at Spike, her eyes as wide as she could manage, doe-like, her mouth open obediently, as if to say, "Like this, Mister Dragon, Sir?"
Spike's head spun in more directions than he knew existed. There was no helping it.
"Eek!" Rarity let out a small cry as Spike's cock began to unload into her mouth—onto her mouth—onto her face, and mane, and flank, and pretty much anywhere in the general vicinity...
Other worlds were happening. Spike was on vacation in them, his head tilted back, eyes shut, groaning soft and boyishly as his young balls emptied their first, very full load onto Rarity's waiting tongue.
The bits that Rarity didn't catch in her mouth, she wiped up with a glow of her horn, scooping them up and then swallowing them in a still somehow lady-like manner, with a soft satisfying gulp and a demure wipe of her lips with her hoof afterwards. Like she'd just finished a tea-cake.
"My my. You were quite pent up, weren't you?" Rarity noticed a stray strand of dragon cum dangling off her cheek. She licked it up with a careful reach of her tongue, and the taste sent shivers up her spine. "Ooh. So rich, and virile."
The young dragon remained stunned. Whether his HP had been reduced to zero, or he was simply out for the turn remained to be seen.
But his cock was still hard. Twitching, a little, with a small drop of cum just dribbling out of the tip. Rarity licked her lips as she watched it drip slowly down the still formidable length of Spike's juvenile dick.
"Of course, we can't end things like that... it's understandable, being your first time, you'd be quite excited." Rarity grinned, and dove back between Spike's legs, pushing the dragon's legs apart slightly and giving herself a full delicious eyeful of his still-desperate-for-attention hard-on. Rarity licked her lips again, this time savouring the taste of the cum still left on them. And she was thirsty.
"What are you—oh my gosh. Why does that feel so good?"
"That's because—" Rarity took a moment to lick up and down each side of Spike's cock, lapping up the little bits of cum that had dribbled there and making Spike shake violently in his cushion. "—I'm paying careful attention to the most sensitive parts of your dragonhood. Just under the head here—" She licked the area in question rapidly with her tongue, and Spike howled, leaning so far back in his chair he almost fell out. "—and along the sides, up to the tip... really, there are so many places, it's hard to choose just one... Mmmph..." True to her word, Rarity had swallowed Spike's cock whole this time, bottoming out the shaft just shy of her throat, but still an impressive range for a dragon who'd yet to hit puberty.
Spike's thoughts had discombobulated out of Equestrian and into several languages he didn't even know he spoke. The sensations were too real, and he was enjoying all of them—to have his dick in the mouth of a beautiful pony, an elegant pony, a pony like Rarity... maybe he'd died and this was his reward for being such a good assistant. Maybe Twilight had finally gotten him that Magic Reality console he wanted so much, and this was the first game, only he'd been playing so long, he'd forgotten he was playing, and...
No. This was just his first... what did you call it?
"A 'blowjob', is a rather crass, inelegant term," Rarity said, as though reading his mind, or at least the expositive narrative text. "In my case, a lady might prefer to say... fellatio. As it does sound at least a bit more cultured. Mmmm!" Rarity went full-down on Spike's dick, savouring the way it filled up her mouth, and the way Spike's little hips would buck up each time she swallowed his cock. It was hard to be cultured while trying to get yourself to gag on someone's shaft—but a good lady is nothing if not an improviser.
It seemed like the act could have continued endlessly, either because Rarity would have started again and again each time until Spike died from sexual exhaustion, or because Spike was so overcome by the sensation of his first oral sex that he might have just floated in space until Rarity pulled him back down. But the reverie of both players was broken by the sound of somepony familiar opening the bathroom door and beginning her way down the hallway.
"Sorry I took so long," Twilight's voice came from the hallway. "It took me forever to figure out which tap was for the hot water. Why are there five of them? It seems like the middle two were just for fancy-smelling bubbles..."
"Oh dear," Rarity whispered, pulling her mouth of Spike's cock, which was by now dripping with saliva and the one or two drops of dragon-cum Rarity had failed to lick up. "I didn't imagine we'd be so cut short for time. I suppose this does call for drastic measures." Rarity spared a quick glance around the dressing room, evidently just to play up the act in question. Turning around completely, her nefarious smirk now-hidden, Rarity went to all fours and spread her hind-legs wide. She put one hoof on either side of her slit, and spread that wide too, giving Spike a full view of her soaking wet hole.
"Like what you see?" she asked Spike over her back, and wiggled her rump at him.
"Yes!" Spike came the second he spoke, shooting another sticky load of underage cum in Rarity's direction—this time squarely at her gaping pussy.
Rarity, though she had planned to turn around and catch the rest of the prize in her mouth, found herself strangely unable to move—no magic or arcane interruptions. She simply couldn't help herself from letting Spike's jizz splash all over her ass and pussy.
It was enough, too. She was cumming just as hard.
Rarity braced herself as the feeling of Spike's creamy load dripping down her slit sent her into the throes of an orgasm. Surprisingly, her first of the encounter, though she owed that mostly to keeping her eye on the prize, knowing that if she let herself, she'd be cumming hard, and fast, and doing it again and again and again and perhaps not letting poor little Spike have any of the fun. Which was why it was very important to give him as much attention as she could at first. Which didn't make it any easier to stop thinking about how badly she wanted to rip him off his seat, pin him to the ground and ride his tiny pink cock until it blew a sticky load inside her cunt.
But there was still the unfortunate matter of the third party.
With a lightning speed only the most deadly deadlines could prepare her for, Rarity summoned and put to work a set of towels, stashed in a drawer somewhere nearby or far, but suddenly summoned to do the work of cleaning up any evidence of sex in Rarity's dressing room. The cum on her butt, which they wiped up, letting little tingles up her spine. Her own wetness, which a small cloth politely patted away. Spike's cock, which a perfectly-sized towel wrapped around and rubbed clean, eliciting another few small moans from Spike. Who'd finally managed to open his eyes, also.
Timed just as Twilight's freshly-showered mane crested the dressing room door, Rarity clapped her hooves—her horn shone brightly, snap—and a burst of floral perfume filled the room with a phwoosh, covering up the smell of sex and erasing the last shred of evidence of Rarity's... unofficial 'lesson'.
That was, as long as...
"Ah, Twilight, you look wonderful! Tell me, which of the three holding sprays did you feel was most useful? I typically find, when I'm doing my mane in the morning—"
"Uh, I'm not sure, they were all great, really, but look, we, uh, have to be off, now that we've checked on the decorations and everything—"
Yes. Rarity, you are a master conniver if ever there was one. Conniving and canoodling. Yes. Those are your marks of expertise.
"Oh, of course. I mustn't keep you then. It was just such a pleasure getting to meet both of you—" Rarity leaned in close to Spike's ear, just far way enough to whisper 'Come back again tonight, my dear,', before she had started helping him and Twilight to the door. "Please do stop by again before the celebration if you need any help with your outfit, or your mane, or you—"
"Bye!" Twilight yelled, practically running out the door, levitating Spike onto her back as she went. Luckily oblivious to his tiny residual hard-on, which he was doing a very good job of covering up with his claws. And which would probably relax as soon as he got a good distance from his first blowjob—first two blowjobs—and the sultry, seductive pony who had given them.
Probably.