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*Part 3: Pregnant Rarity, Exhibitionism, Angry Sex, Prehensile Tail, Minor Foodplay, Debasement*
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She's out in the sun for the first time in a long time.

After last night's workout, you've reached a critical low on groceries. As you put on your coat to go get food for breakfast, she trots up with a yawn, securing her saddle. You look down at her with a mixture of shock and intrigue. She hasn't left the house since she started showing. Her sensitivity about her weight and concerns over “ladylike fragility” had put and end to leaving the house. Lately, things have been improving for you two though. Several nights in a row of high spirits leading up to some hot steamy passion, and now this? Her confidence has grown in leaps and bounds. She follows you about the small apartment you share and nuzzles your hand playfully as you search for your keys. Her breath is warm against the back of your hand, and every now and then she giggles and nudges your rear with her horn. Finally, you extract your keys from the pocket of the jacket you set on the kitchen table earlier, and you're out the door into the brisk morning air.

The sun is shining on her white coat, and she hops around with a lively spring in her graceful stride. She's like some sort of young filly now, hopping around your legs, bumping against them with her muzzle, urging you to go more quickly. “Hurry darling! We need to keep a brisk pace. I want to get there right when they open! Just imagine that bread in the bakery – oh it will be simply divine!”
You smile and rub her head, right behind her ears where she likes it. She nuzzles her face into your side and you walk the remaining distance as the sun creeps up overhead.

Your watch says six thirty-two when you arrive at the grocery store, but they're just opening the doors as you get to them. A lone pony stands at the checkout stand, filing her hooves. You recognize her; she’s behind the checkout counter most days. Rarity practically skips down the nearest aisle out of your sight, basket dangling from her mouth. You pause long enough to wave to the checkout mare, and she tiredly waves back, older body obviously not ready for such early mornings anymore. Good deed done, you hurry down the rows, looking for the pony you entered with, having a strong suspicion she'll be in the sweets aisle. Along the way you pick up some much needed supplies in your own basket, assuming quietly that she hasn't.

Your suspicions are confirmed. After last night's debauchery, she's filled her basket to overflowing with bags of marshmallows, making you feel like some mother hen with your basket of practical groceries. You come upon her struggling to reach an upper shelf, where a lone packet of hot chocolate mix perches precariously, ready to fall on her head. Around her, horn aglow, levitate a few other packets, obviously having fallen during her initial pass.

“Oh just... nfff... little further... little more... Come now... There’s a good packet...”
You walk up calmly behind her, height playing to your advantage as you lift the packets over her head and back up to the shelf, none too gracefully pressing her up against it as you return them one by one to their proper place. Below your leaning body she calls out instructions, obviously distressed at the way you're managing the task.

“Careful now... yes... that's right. A little to the right. No! Left! Ohhh.”
With each instruction she squirms under you to get a better view, swollen tummy pressed against the racks, her widened hips and thick flanks rubbing against your pelvis. Memories of three hours prior flood back, and you begin to get hard as you try to get her orders precisely right. Her ears perk up; she feels you pressing into her now. Under you, she ceases her squirming, and cranes her neck upward.
“Are you-”
“Sir? Ma’am? You two need help?”
The checkout mare looks down the aisle at you from her register.
“N-no! No! We're fine, thank you dear!” she calls from under you.
She thrusts her head back up to you with an accusing glare.
“Are you aroused?” she hisses up at you.
You free up a hand to reach down and squeeze her flank in reply.
She snorts in frustration.
“Honestly, are you a beast? Is that all you think about? Is my body really so...” she wiggles her hips deeper into you, and her voices drops to a husky whisper, “irresistible?”
In reply you flex your trapped member as hard as you can, and blush floods her ivory face right up to the base of her horn.
“But here of all places? Come now, that's simply uncivilized. It's absolutely improper, and a lady of my stature simply will not engage in it in any way.”
You hook your hand down toward her basket, making it look like you're reaching for another of the fallen packets, and slowly trail your fingers up the inside of her leg, until your hand is under her saddle. You can feel the heat coming off of her. She's just as aroused, maybe more. Testing the water, you rub her lips with your finger and find them to be moist.
“I- what are you doing?” her hissed words are angry, but her voice has risen a little in pitch, unable to conceal the shock of pleasure.
“This is simply barbaric! Are you some sort of dog?”
Prepared with a playful response, you hump up against her still leaning figure, clenching a handful of thick soft flank with your now moistened hand. She feels her own wetness and sighs, trying to squirm away.
Her efforts dislodge the packets you carefully positioned up top once more. They and several other sweets tumble down, soda bottles bursting and fizzing all over both of you. She stands there, looking at you, and twitches slightly. More packets tumble down, and their contents burst into the air, coating her soda-soaked mane and coat, as well as your clothes, in the stuff. A sniffle escapes her, and she whimpers as things settle and the checkout mare hurries over to both of you.
“Are you two alright? Good heavens, I've never seen such a- never mind. I need to get a mop. Please, just... stay here. I'll only be a moment!”
She gallops off out of sight, leaving you with one very dirty, very displeased unicorn.
“THIS is my day out? THIS?!”
Her voice is shrill, high pitched; she's shivering and her saddle is stained and dripping soda. You help her out of it as she stands unmoving, rigid and shocked. You pull off your coat and shirt, struggling for something to dry her hair with, finding only your undershirt dry. Decency gone at this point, you strip it off and towel off her hair.
“And just what did you think you were doing?! In a public place? Do you want me to be some sort of laughing stock? You've succeeded you know. Why... why I ought to...” she breaks off, voice cracking, with a whimper as you finish toweling her off and hug her apologetically.
“This is what you want, isn't it?”
She manages this latest accusation from inside your muffling embrace, and you lower your face to hers, kissing her cheek, and licking some of the soda from it with a smile that you hope will bring her mood up. She sighs and shivers again, licking some of the soda from your shoulder.
“I just won't leave the house anymore. That's what I'll do. I'll just stay there, and you can live with that guilt.”
You rub her shoulders reassuringly, trying to find something to comfort her with. She nuzzles her head below your stomach again.
“I'll just sit there, and you can come home from work and have your way with me. It's what you want, right? I'll just sit there, and you'll just fill me up with all those babies. Goodness knows you don't see me as anything else, getting an erection in a place like-”
Her voice is cut off as your member swells again at this conversation piece, and you mentally plead with your boner to go away before she notices. It's too late of course.
“This-... that-... you dirty fiend.” She pushes you away with her forehooves and whips around, tail flourishing dramatically.
“Fine. Have it your way. Now. Right now. Lick me, make me wet, and take me.”
You look at her as if she's gone mad.
“I mean it. You see me as nothing more than some sex object, so I might as well be a sex object. Get it over with.”
You sigh, face embedded in your palm, everything somehow going a million times more wrong than you could have guessed it would when you left the house.
“I'll leave you.”
You look up.
“Right now, I'll leave this whole thing, if you don't do it. Use me, right here, right now. Lick me.”
The absurdity of the request hangs in the air as she suddenly shouts at you angrily.
“I'm your strumpet, yes? Your whore? Then DO IT. LICK ME.”
You look around quickly, and tentatively lick her outer lips. She tastes of soda and chocolate now, and she angrily pushes herself back as soon as you make contact, giving you an unexpected mouthful of her womanhood.
Your tongue is in deep now, and the taste is the familiar one you expected. You work it around in her, slowly becoming oblivious to everything around you. You grab handfuls of slick, sticky flank as you bury your tongue in her nether-regions, eliciting reluctant moans between angry growls. Her tail flicks between her legs, around her swollen belly, and pulls down your zipper expertly after several fumbling attempts to find it. The cocoa powder has begun to stick into her coat now, and she's got your jeans halfway off when you hear a clatter from the entrance to the aisle.
You look over - the checkout mare has dropped her mop. You're unsure how long she's been there, but one hoof is now reaching under her apron, and she's sprawled against the corner of the aisle, watching you both with intense interest. Rarity notices, and yelps, but it's too late. She wanted to be your strumpet, and she's getting what she asked for.
You push her top half to the ground and grip handfuls of ample belly and chest, thrusting into her with your hard member. From the aisle corner a half mouthed half whisper reaches your ears.
“Oh... oh yes. Slap her... slap her plump rump... nnnnfhh.”
You oblige the checkout mare, the slap resounding through the otherwise empty store. Rarity's ears perk up as she hears you take the instruction, and she deftly swivels, pulling you with her to face the prone pony.
“I'm his WHORE! Me! Keep your words to yourself! I'm the one he stuffs with cock, I'm the one who has his baby, I'm the one he feeds to sleep! Me. I'm his fucking slut, I'm his oohhhhhh...”
Her voice reaches a high pitch as you slam into her with all your pelvic might.
“I'm his fucking sluuuuuuutttttyess! Yeeeeeeesss!”
Her tongue lolls out of her mouth and she's panting as you pick up the pace, checkout mare staring at you both as you stare back at her. Rarity shifts onto her side, jealousy taking her, pulling you down to her level and hiking up her leg so that you can keep pounding.
“I'm your special one, right? Me? Just meeee?”
You nod furiously, crashing your lips into hers, forcing your tongue into her mouth, pumping vigorously all the while, sending huge, oceanic waves of jiggling flesh throughout her body.
“Give me it... give me all of it. Oh come on, give me all of it. It's mine.”
She wriggles desperately as you thrust, and wriggles free just as you climax. Your seed sprays everywhere, up the aisle like a loosed cannon, across the floor, and onto the face of the lucky checkout mare, both hooves furiously at work on her sopping privates. Rarity squeals in protest, slamming her tongue to the floor, licking furiously at the tiles where your sperm runs scattered. She reaches the mare and harumphs, licking the female's body over and over until the last drops are on her tongue.
She walks back up, tongue out, your cum covering it, and then gulps it down, staring up at you. You look around at the mess and scoop her into your arms as you kneel there, kissing her head and hair. From inside your embrace, you hear her happy giggling.

Two hours later, the shop is cleaned up and bustling. You walk through the checkout, the mare bagging your things wordlessly, and hit the street with your newly bought groceries. Rarity snuggles up to you against the cold, both of your clothes still damp and clinging to you.
“A-about what I said earlier darling...”
You look down at her, rubbing her hair reassuringly.
“Please dear, please. I need you to know that I understand... I was just a bit worked up by the... situation. And I said somethings that nopony with any grace should say. Well... besides the obvious of course. But THAT. I... I never meant that. I don't care if you already know, but it's only proper to say it out loud... I couldn't... I'd never leave. I couldn't ever leave you. Whether it's as your concubine or your wife... I...” she trails off and looks up at you, morning sun catching her big sapphire eyes. She manages to mouth three words you know too well, and you mouth back that same phrase. She nuzzles into your side, pleased, and you resume the walk home.