Rarity never minded the idea of you heading out a little earlier than necessary to get to work. It became routine to head to your local coffee shop, grab something to eat and relax for a bit reading the morning paper. On sunny mornings such as today, the crisp air, smell of dew drops and the kiss of the warm sun against your skin helped get your day going too. Every so often though, you'd have a morning like today's, just not quite so aggressive.

What was going on with Rarity earlier? It's not like the two of you haven't been in the throes of passion before, but today? She was acting like she was going to die without getting some action. Eh, maybe she had a really sexy dream or something. Who knows?

Another good question would be if the rest of the girls around town that you've been passing on your way to the coffee shop didn't also go through the same thing. Was Luna messing around in dreamland or something last night? They're all giving you passing glances and staring – including a handful that you know are married or have boyfriends. A few even not-so-inconspicuously licked their lips like they wanted to sink their teeth into you. Yeah, seeing bite marks anywhere on you wouldn't piss Rarity off or anything once you got home.

After the world's most awkward stroll, you finally arrive at the Ponyville version of Starbucks and quickly dive in. The usual friendly face greets you. Fitting that she work in such a place, what with the white swirls in her curly mocha mane.

Aaaand she's got kind of googly eyes too. And clearly fidgeting. It's almost endearing that she's trying to remain professional, but still, what is the matter with Ponyville this morning?!

"H-hey there, how's it going? Nice to see you as always!"

"Hey, Chocolate Glaze, what's up?" you say, grabbing the newspaper near the cash register.

"Oh, not too much. I-I don't know if I'm coming down with something or what not. F-feeling kind of warm this morning," she replies, now swaying back and forth a bit. "What can we getcha? The usual?"

"Uh, yeah, the usual with the coffee, but was kind of in the mood for a bagel today instead of a donut. How about....eh, I'll take an everything with some cream cheese."

"You can take whatever you want," she mumbles.

"Hm?"

"Hm?"

"You say something?"

"Oh! No, it was nothing," the mare giggles. "I'll go get your order."

If only she could lie as well as she made coffee. Aside from hearing Chocolate Glaze loud and clear, the paper also notes that it'll be a high of seventy-one degrees today. 'Warm', right. Okay, maybe she actually is starting to feel a little under the weather, but she sure isn't showing it. If anything, she's acting just as odd as every other female you've bumped into so far.

Before you know it, your freshly brewed mountain roast is dribbling into its waiting cup, and it smells as nice as always. Not long after it fills up, Chocolate Glaze comes back from her task in the back with warm, delicious goodness on a plate between her teeth and your hot beverage in hand...hoof...whatever. As you grab your wallet from your pocket, Chocolate Glaze bops herself on the head after setting your order down.

"Oh yeah, two creams and a sugar. One sec, I think the boss moved a couple things around earlier," she explains, turning around to rummage through the lower cabinets behind her...still gently swaying her hips. And...lifting her tail...? Errr....

Thank God no one is nearby to see how red your face is getting. You are not watching because someone will see you and word will get back to Rarity and then you'll be dead.

...Okay, maybe just a peek.

Yikes, she turning back. Quick, act nonchalant! Look at the headlines! Yeah, that's it! Good idea!

"I'm such a dope sometimes. I must have been thinking of something else they moved," the bubbly mare says, reaching directly below the register for the extras you want. "Anyway, one coffee, two creams and a sugar, the newspaper, and an everything bagel with a...nice, thick spread of cream cheese. Mmm-mm!" She giggles again. Can't really deny it's a cute one. "Sorry, mouth is watering just thinking about how yummy the cream is."

...Wow.

...Say something, stupid!

"You guys always have good stuff. Anyway, how much?"

With a couple simple button presses, the register reveals the price. "Eight bits, please."

Let's see...ah, here's a ten-bit coin in your wallet. Excellent. After receiving your change and 'thank you', you pause to think of the little show you just received. The extra two bits finds it way into her tip jar.

"Ohh, thanks!" Chocolate Glaze sing-songs as she wags her tail.

God, why does it feel like you're tipping a stripper?

...How would a pony stripper work anyway? They don't normally wear clothes. Why are you thinking about this? Eh, whatever.

You make a beeline for your usual seat near the window and the warm, morning sun. After flipping the paper open and onto the table, the smell of freshly baked bagel gets to you. Glaze's mouth isn't the only one watering, and, after preparing your coffee, you snatch up the grub and take a bite. As expected, it's pretty good.

Doesn't seem to be a lot of customers around the shop. Strange. Could just be an off-morning. It happens sometimes. Outside doesn't look as busy as it usually is either. However, most of the mares...again...walking by the shop are catching your eye and staring right into your soul.

Y'know, the seat directly facing the window looks more comfortable today. Much easier to hide behind the newspaper that way.

The door to home hadn't looked so inviting in a while. Good Lord, what a dead day at work. Only three ponies even bothered to come in to browse. Davenport didn't even really looked all that bothered by it for some reason. The boredom was the worst. If only you had your old phone...and Equestria had internet. You probably would have found yourself sitting online looking at various forums to pass the time, no doubt. The beds were calling a lot, but you were able to resist their siren song, as hard as it was.

With a passing glance at the 'Closed' sign, you head on in, not even hearing the jingling bell overhead. After closing the door and making it halfway into the lobby, bounding hoofsteps rumble from upstairs. Seconds later, your favorite girl races into view and tackles you clumsily onto the floor, locking the door without your notice. She doesn't even bother to say 'welcome home' with anything other than a plethora of kisses. You could get used to this.

Your lips find hers finally, and your hands find her squeezable butt. After humming enough into your mouth for a little while, she breaks away with a ravenous smile on her face.

"Hey, babe. Uh...how you doing?"

She rams her tongue down your throat again. Ooooo–kay, this is getting to be a little much now. Junior doesn't seem to mind though.

Your lips part ways once more. Seems such a ruckus has taken Rarity's breath away, what with her gasping the way she is. "Are...you alright, hon?"

"Shut up and fuck me!"

...Well then.

Three days had passed, and sleep had become a fractured memory. It had become increasingly difficult to help any of the few customers that came into Quills and Sofas. A small version of the shop owner's namesake was holding you up – barely – at the front counter, next to the cash register. Your head slumped between your arms with one wrapped around the top of your head. The little imperfection you found in the corner of the counter in front of you had been getting increasingly blurry as you stared at it. The spy novel Rarity asked you to return to Twilight after work for her sat in the corner, but you have no desire to crack it open.

Every so often, your eyes would shut for...who knew how long. It was always brief. You were at work and needed to stay as sharp as you could though trying to shake off the cobwebs felt like a waste of time. Occasionally, you'd open your eyes to see Davenport sitting in a nearby chair or at the counter beside you, reading the paper or doing a crossword puzzle or something to pass the time. Not once did he ever nudge you awake. You'd think he'd have given you a stern lecture about falling asleep on the job or something, but no; he didn't appear the least bit concerned.

Shouldn't he though? The store typically had a couple furniture sales – and several less-profitable quill sales – per day up until about four or five days ago. Since then, it may have had two or three, period. That's not going to pay the rent or the bills or your salary at this rate, yet it didn't seem to bother him.

With a long stretch of your back, you sit up and joke, "Maybe if I went and laid down on one of the more comfortable beds we have, we could sell a few. It'd be like, 'hey, this guy's out like a light on this mattress, let's take that one.'. Which is the most expensive one? I'll go use that."

"Hah! That'd probably work too," Davenport quips back as he looks down from his magazine. "Honestly, I'm surprised you've even been able to make it here at all, but you've been on time all this week so far. Is Rarity feeling alright?"

"I think so," you yawn. "I don't know what her problem is lately though. She's been driving me crazy. I mean, she just wants to...fuck all damn day when I get home."

"Heh, yep. Sounds like a terrible problem to have. I don't think you have any idea how jealous the stallions in town are of you. Probably half the mares too," he adds, jabbing an elbow in your ribs.

"Pfff. I thought it was kind of fun the first couple days, but...Christ, she hasn't stopped. I'm not a machine! A few days ago, I come home, she's waiting for me in a...I'm not going to lie, a really sexy negligee. Reminded me of stuff you'd see in catalogs back home. Y'know, with a little garter belt and silk stockings and this little bow at the top of her underwear and stuff. She only stopped to make something quick for us to eat and ten minutes after we're done, she's pulling my pants off again. Next day, she jumps at me like Pinkie Pie would when she wants a hug or something almost as soon as I get in the door. You know what I'm talking about with Pinkie?"

"Yeah, I think I know what you're saying."

"Yeah, I almost slam my head against the wall and she's ripping my clothes off. Guess it's a good thing she's a seamstress. She pulled a few buttons off, but she fixed it the next day. Then, just the other night, she gets up to go to the bathroom and she decides she wants to keep me up for almost two hours. I looked at the clock when she woke me; it was two-thirty in the morning! The hell's wrong with her? She knows I have to work! Besides, I don't know what she expects to get out of me after a while. She's not giving me any time to cool off and...refill the tank, if you know what I mean."

Davenport nods. "Must be nice working from home. You can just flip the sign, lock up, and go take a nap if you want. But, like I said, if you want to lay down, go right ahead."

"Taking a nap doesn't seem to be anywhere on her list these days," you argue.

"Well, yeah, that's to be expected."

A deep breath and a hard rub of your eyes does nothing to force you further awake. What Davenport said, however, does a better job. "What does that mean?"

Your boss raises an eyebrow. "You...don't know? Rarity didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"It's...season, dude. Y'know, mating season? The mares are in heat?"

"Uhhhh..."

"Do you not have something like that back where you're originally from?" Davenport asks.

"No, we just...fool around when we want to. I mean, we do that here too; it's not really any different," you add, shrugging. "So, you're saying all the girls in town..."

"Want to take you to bed and tear you apart, yeah. They're pretty insatiable until season ends. Can't imagine how hard it must be to control themselves sometimes."

"I guess that explains why they're all looking at me lately like I'm a five-course meal and they're all homeless. Just how long does this last anyway?"

"A few weeks usually, give or take."

And horror overtakes your face.

"Dude, I can't do this for a few weeks!"

"Most stallions can't. This time of year, quite a few always end up going to the hospital."

Your eyes balloon as you shrink away. "What the hell for?"

"Exhaustion. Either that or broken bones. Usually their hips."

"The fuck, man?!" Davenport simply shrugs. "Why aren't you worried?"

"I always stock the heck out of the fridge and pantries in the break room before season arrives. The mares around town know I'm not taken, so if I'm heading home for the day, there's a good chance one will snatch me up and drag me to their place, kicking and screaming. I...had a bad experience with that a few seasons ago. Ended up in said hospital for said broken bones. It was fun, but not fun.

"I've made it a point to head home only to shower – and in the middle of the night. I sleep here in the meantime until season goes away. It's generally understood that grabbing stallions while they're at work is rather poor form, so I don't have to worry about that here. They still try and act all coy and seductive if they stop in. Not so much if they have a husband or boyfriend, but, y'know.

"Speaking of stopping in, you're actually going to want to be awake in about a week and a half. That's when our busy season starts," Davenport suggests, closing his reading material and tossing it on the counter, having gotten bored of it.

"Why then?"

"It's usually about that time that any stallions that are going to end up in the hospital are there, and that gives the girls a chance to go shopping for new furniture. We make big bucks then!"

"Why does everyone suddenly need furniture all at once?"

"Bones aren't the only things that get broken."

You let a snort get away. Yeah, it may be wrong finding amusement thinking about what some of the poor guys around town must go through, but how crazy must some of the mares go to break their stuff without being angry at their lovers? "Guessing a lot of beds get sold?"

"A lot of everything really. Tables, chairs, sofas, you name it. Not too many quills though."

"Jesus. I don't suppose I can crash here too till this whole thing blows over?"

"You know this'd be the first place Rarity would look to find you. You sure you want to get on her bad side?"

Dammit, he was right. She'd probably end up killing you, provided she didn't kill you in bed before then. Though, to be fair, there'd be worse ways to go than being sexed to death.

You rub your eyes and fail to shake off the fatigue coursing through your system again. Been a while since you felt so worn out. "I think I'll take you up on your offer about taking a nap."

Davenport playfully jabs at your shoulder. "No problem. If I need you, I'll wake you."

"Cool. Oh, remind me to grab my book on the way out later if I forget."

"Will do!"

One of the cushier beds in the back corner of the shop quickly attracts your attention. Nearly as soon as your head hits the pillow, you pass out into unconsciousness. This makes it rather difficult to hear the customers that just came in the door but not so much when they eventually walk up to you a short while later.

"Hey, sweetie, come check this one out. It must be a pretty nice mattress if he picked this one to sleep on."

Oh, for crying out loud...

Man, that nap was great! And, funny enough, you managed to sell the mattress you slept on. Win-win!

Can't imagine how much you'd be dragging ass over to Twilight's enormous castle if you hadn't gotten some shut-eye. You'll have to have a chat with Rarity when you get home. You actually need to sleep at night. Hopefully, the sleep you got won't keep you up until three in the morning and throw off your routine. Maybe you can take your girl out tonight somewhere, try and wear yourself out in order to prevent that from happening. Might even wear her out enough so she doesn't feel like getting frisky later herself.

Or get drunk and pass out. That could work too.

But, onto the task at hand; you have a book to return. Just hope Twilight or Spike is around. It'd feel a little funny just sauntering on into an empty castle like a common intruder.

The walk is brief from Quills and Sofas. The wait after knocking on the door almost takes as long as the journey, but thankfully, Twilight is home. Her eyes widen when she sees you, and her lip biting doesn't go unnoticed. Ugh, did it ever slip your mind – she's a mare too. Great. Here we go again.

"H-hey you, what's going on?"

"What's up? Rarity wanted to me to return this for her. She finished it last night," you say, giving her the novel.

The book takes flight on its own, surrounded in sparkling magenta. "Oh, great! Come on in. Pleeeease come on in."

"Oh, that's okay, I really should get–"

"Oh no no no, I insist," she interrupts, grabbing you in magic as well and slamming the door. "I was hoping to get some help with something, and now that you're here, maybe you could–"

"Twilight, put me down," you deadpan.

"But, this is important! Well, important to me, at least," she argues, bringing you into her library. "It has nothing to do with being so wound up that it feels like a blood vessel is going to burst in my head because nopony is here to take care of some needs that are driving me crazier than they usually did in the past or anything!"

"Yeah, clearly." The crazed mare unceremoniously drops you in the center of the room while she continues on to where the storybook originated from. Could have been less comfortable. "Quick question, do you want Rarity to kill you...and me? In whatever order she'd kill us in."

"What do you mean?" she asks, nervously wringing her hooves.

"Twilight, Davenport explained to me what's going on with you girls. Whatever you're thinking about doing to me, you really need to quit while you're ahead."

The alicorn takes a deep breath and bops herself on the head a few times. It momentarily seems to bring her back to her senses. "I'm sorry. You're right. It's just...this is my first season as an alicorn and everything feels a lot more intense than before. I was never the most social pony back in Canterlot, so when this time of year would come around, I'd typically...go find an erotic novel or two to keep myself occupied."

"What, you never found a guy to fool around with?"

"Eventually, yeah, but only during one season. He...wasn't very good."

"How would you be able to compare him to anyone else if you never were with anyone else?"

She hunches over and darts her eyes around. You can subtly hear her growling under her breath.

"Twilight, I sincerely doubt it would be something I haven't heard before."

With a groan, the princess grumbles, "I have some things in my bedroom drawer and have read the Pony Sutra, among other things, at least nine or ten times."

"See? That wasn't so hard."

"Oh, shush." The tense mare lands beside you. She could have easily landed practically on top of you, so maybe she has calmed down – relatively. "I didn't expect company at all, but, like I said, now that you are here, maybe you could help me out."

"Twilight, we just–"

"Let me finish! Jeez!" she snaps. "I was going to settle down with one of those novels and...y'know, take care of things since Spike is hanging out with Big Macintosh and Discord for the next few hours. I'm unsure which one to pick since, like I said, I've read them all so many times. Was hoping you could pick one for me."

"Oh! Yeah, I could do that," you agree, rising to your feet.

"Great! Let me go grab them. I keep them hidden away so Spike doesn't accidentally stumble upon them. He doesn't need to be reading such things just yet," she says, taking off to parts unknown.

Before she gets out of the room, you give her pause. "Honestly, he probably knows more than you think."

"Why do you say that?"

"He's about that age, Twilight. Believe me, he knows."

As she floats in the doorway, flapping away, horrifying parental thoughts bombard her head. Was she going to have to sit and give him 'the talk'? Celestia help her if she has to. It was painfully embarrassing when her own parents had to sit down with her. Nope. No way. She wasn't ready. She wasn't going to do it. Nope! He'd just have to...come to her first! That's it! But...oh jeez, what if he really does know things that she doesn't? It hasn't been that many years since Night Light and Twilight Velvet sat down with her, but times do change. Ugh, why was she thinking about this?!

She shakes out the terrible, awful, unwanted thoughts and continues on ahead, leaving you alone for a bit. While waiting, you head over to a nearby shelf and claim a random book. Looks to be science related. A few minutes later, Twilight returns with about a dozen novels of different sizes and thickness. Replacing your text, you skim over the ridiculous, grocery-store-checkout titles. Suppose there's really no accounting for taste sometimes.

"You can take a quick look through them if you want. Could help you decide," Twilight suggests.

With a shrug, you grab the eighth book in the row. Its cover has a stereotypical picture of a girl leaning up against a guy...stallion, whatever, whose hair is flowing in the wind. Criminy, Twilight likes this kind of garbage? Though, it is a book, and that's probably all that matters to her in the end. Plus, she did say it was to help her get off and little else. No reason to think it was going to be terribly deep or intellectual.

You open to a random section, trying to find something sexy as you quickly breeze through a few paragraphs. However, when turning the page, the sharp edge of the paper slices hard into your finger.

"Gah! Son of a...!"

The books fall to the floor, and Twilight hisses through her teeth. "You okay?"

It may be just a paper cut, but the blood is flowing pretty freely. "Yeah, just got me good. Stings like hell."

"Here, let me get that." A clean, white rag and a band-aid pops into existence. The rag wraps itself around your finger and tightens pretty well. A silent minute or two passes as the pressure seems to help. Eventually, the mare removes the cloth and dabs where a bit of blood dried on your skin. The wound is still bleeding a little bit, but nowhere like it was a moment ago. "I can kiss it and make it all better if you want," Twilight jokes.

"You wouldn't start sucking on my finger next, would you?" you fire back. "Cuz we know where that would go."

"Very funny." With a thought, the alicorn fixes the band-aid onto the cut and gives you a jovial smile. "There, that should do it."

"Cool, thanks." You wag your fingers. "Still hurts like hell, but that'll go away."

"Yeah." Twilight examines the pile of sensual stories scattered at your feet. "Um...I think I'll just pick this one," she says, selecting the third novel from your left. "I haven't read it in a while and you're probably not interested in picking one out now, huh?"

"Yeah, I kind of just want to get home."

"Okay. Sorry about what happened."

"Not your fault. Thanks for taking care of it. I'll see you later."

You exchange waves goodbye as you see yourself out. The rag disappears, allowing Twilight to collect her mess and bring the stories back to where she kept them. Looking over the books' titles, some of the more memorable scenes begin playing in her head, winding her up all over again. Biting her lip, she tries to clear her mind and heads into the main hallway. But, before she can get very far, she suddenly stops.

A radical idea pops into her head, one that she really shouldn't be thinking about. The books and her stockpile could only do so much after a while, and granted, she always enjoyed the lewd tales when she needed to release some tension, but it wasn't the same as actual contact. But...no, she couldn't. It would go against everything she stood for!

Still...no one would have to know if she kept real quiet about it, and it did take some time for the spells she read about to do its thing. Plus, who would she tell? Why would she tell? Season could be half over or more before everything was ready and sustainable. She could also easily get Spike out of the castle while she did her work one way or another. Maybe she could convince him, if push came to shove, to have an extended slumber party with the CMC or whatever. He has been hanging out with Sweetie Belle a lot lately, so he'd probably enjoy that. As long as he wasn't... Nope, not thinking about that! They're still young, dammit!

The blood-stained rag returns into being, hovering in front of the flustered princess. No, she really shouldn't. She shouldn't! It's wrong! She's better than this!

...Ugh, she was going to Tartarus.