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*Part 5: Pregnant Rarity, Prehensile Tail, Minor Foodplay, Showering, Heavy Drama, Sexual Denial, Anal Sex*
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It’s late at night, and you sigh in spite of yourself. You’re in the narrow bathroom you both share, fastening the cuffs on your sleeves. Despite the fact that it’s only 6:30, you’re more tired than you’ve been in a long time. From your bedroom you can hear her humming as she prepares for the evening ahead of you. You fasten your tie tighter around your neck and brush your hair again, listening to the happy pony’s preparations. Before you were married you’d have never guessed how long it took her to get ready to go anywhere nice. You’d have never imagined the clothing she could design when she put her mind to it either, but she’d shown you as much when you’d first met. Even now, after your few years together, wearing the clothes she custom fitted for you, you’re impressed with her attention to detail.

You let your mind wander back to the first pair she made for you. It wasn’t long after your unexpected and unplanned arrival to Ponyville that you needed her services. Your first order of business had been finding food, but past that clothes and shelter became a priority. Your odd and mysterious figure had been dumped on her doorstep by the directions of one very kindly serving mare after a slew of questions and a hurried lunch. At first Rarity had been confused, and you had been embarrassed.
You remember the awkward combination of blushing and polite formality that had pervaded her attitude as she fitted your uncanny and narrow frame for kinds of clothing she’d never been called to make.
You remember her generous nature as she gave you, a newcomer, clothes and a room for the night at no charge.
You remember the hard work it took to save up the money you used to take her out to dinner a month later in thanks.
You remember her expression as she’d arrived to dine in the most regal restaurant in Canterlot, and found you wearing the first clothes she’d ever made for you; a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
You remember your year of courtship, and your beautiful and extravagant wedding.

Despite your best efforts, much has changed. You have less time to do cute things, but still know that it’s important to remind her she’s special. Waking up a week ago in a bed with yourself, Twilight, and Rainbow Dash had reminded you how important it was to do those special things. You’d invited her that morning over breakfast to dine with you again. You hadn’t expected she’d sneak out during the week while you were at work and fashion you a fine suit from the measurements she now knew by heart. You’d also not expected her to extend the invitation politely, over that same breakfast, to Rainbow Dash and Twilight. They’d politely accepted of course, and you’d been carried along with the change of plans.

Twilight and Rainbow Dash.

It wasn’t that you entirely disliked how things had turned out that unexpected evening, but your relationship with Rarity was something special. Ambushed by sudden and unexpected feelings, you haven’t had any real physical contact with her since then.
You know it’s jealousy. You know it, but you can’t explain why it makes you withhold sex from her when you normally wouldn’t. She’s tried to put you in the mood a number of times this week, not the least of which was surprising you with your suit and her dress. The number of times she’d made you help her in and out of it when you were fairly certain she could navigate it alone...

You’re broken from your thoughts by a knock on the door.
“Honestly, are you going to adjust that tie all night? We’ve an engagement, you know.”

You look down at her little three-and-a-half foot tall frame. Her indigo hair is styled up brilliantly, tied back and up in a bun, looping in and out of itself in a spectacular fashion, two strands of it hanging down to frame her now slightly pudgy face. Those big eyes look up at you expectantly, awaiting some compliment on a dress you’ve now seen her in a half-dozen times at least. Still, you drink in the sight of her, determined to give a genuine compliment. Despite your efforts though, she’s done her job. Words fail you.
It’s flawless; it shapes and tightly hugs her swollen stomach, resting perfectly on her widened hips, tight on her chest and veering up to the neck. It’s the perfect dress, the aftermath of pouring an incredibly curvaceous figure into something so well designed. Gems stud the collar, her characteristic diamonds. Around her neck is a beautiful gold and amethyst necklace that you can only guess the origins of - the diamond shaped stone alone is bigger than your thumb. She starts to pout as you continue to search for a compliment.
You settle for clearing your throat and adjusting your tie, before reaching down to scratch her ear affectionately. Your hand is halted inches from her head by a sharp yelp.
“Nononono. No touching! Sorry darling, but it took almost an hour to get my hair just right... I can’t have it getting messed up... at least not yet.”
Here she swats your backside playfully with her tail. You narrow your eyes in reply and she grumbles, making for the front door as you turn off the bathroom light.

Twilight and Rainbow Dash are already waiting when you arrive. Their outfits are lovely in their own right, but you’ve no real interest in them. They seem like the sort of thing that Rarity might make, having become quite accustomed to her style after watching her at her craft for so long. Together you proceed inside, and take your table. You all order drinks, and almost immediately Dash launches into a story of her latest harrowing adventure on the weather patrol. Twilight sips at her wine politely, the two fillies pausing every now and then to exchange grins at the pleasure of being out in public together so openly. Something brushes your foot under the table.
It can’t be Rarity’s hoof. It’s soft and barehooved, and Rarity is almost certainly wearing shoes. The hoof fumbles around clumsily and you watch above the table as a blush finally creeps into Twilight’s face, and then Dash’s. You barely contain a sigh. Next to you, Rarity sits uncomfortably, sipping politely at her drink. The only person at the table who avoided ordering anything alcoholic, she’s settled for a simple glass of water. You can guess at the conflict inside her, so excited to be out and doing things, but afraid of being judged for her size and appetite. Something brushes up against your leg again, and you briefly consider glaring at Rainbow Dash and Twilight before it wraps around your ankle.
Stealing a glance, she blushes and winks at you. She’s in the process of giving both your orders to the waiter, a privilege you’ve always allowed her when you dine together, and she seems rather pleased with her ability to multitask. Under the table, the tail flexes around you, hoping for some sort of playful reprisal. You smile and carefully hook your foot under her chair leg, scooting her ever so slightly when the waiter is busy taking Dash and Twilight’s orders. She cocks a playful eyebrow back at you, not sure what to do next, and settles for using her hoof to drive off the attacking leg. The server takes your menus as you try to sneak the foot subtly back into her area. Playfully, she steps her hoof back to drive you off.

Accidentally driving her spiked heel directly into your toes.

Your leg jerks back reflexively and she gasps as your knee hits the table, knocking over your half-empty glass of wine. The liquid runs toward your end of the table quickly, and you stretch over it to grab the back of her chair and awkwardly pull her back and out of the way. The result is a shirt covered in wine, and you stand up less than pleased. She looks at you, then down at the table, and shoots you the most appreciative of smiles. Carefully, you take off the coat you were keeping on your chair and put it over your shirt, hoping it will cover most of the stains as a passing server stallion hurries over to your table to fix the problem.

Dash and Twilight recover slowly, Dash complimenting your quick action and remarking none too subtly on the wisdom of sacrificing your shirt to protect Rarity’s dress. Twilight busies herself with fixing the loose liquid on the table, scrunching up her face, horn glowing brilliantly. The cloth is still stained, but the surface of your table is dry now. She asks if you’d like the same, but Rarity declines before she can finish, insisting that she’ll take care of it later. She proudly asserts that she can likely get the stain out as well, though you’re fairly certain Twilight could manage both easily if she had time to practice. You keep this opinion to yourself, hoping the embarrassing moment will pass soon. Retaking your seat, Dash assertively flags down another waiter, requesting that your glass be refilled. Before long, a second glass is in front of you.

The girls are determined to make the evening fun despite the spill. You find their stories enjoyable, but each time they reference or include Rarity in one, you feel an inner twinge. They’ve been her friends for so long, and they’re so filled with stories you weren’t a part of. Almost all meetings with any of her friends are like this, but you’ve always refused to let your feeling like an outsider get in the way of her having a good time. Still, you find yourself at the bottom of your third glass of wine all too quickly, finally starting to relax and enjoy yourself as the main course is served.

Rarity picks at hers at first, with Dash and Twilight enjoying every bite of their well cooked meals without taking any real notice of her plight. You notice though, and you carefully nudge her hoof under the table. She shoots you a surprised look and you point subtly with your fork at her plate, giving her the best smile you can manage between careful bites of your own meal. Your encouragement settles in, and she starts to catch up to the others, actually finishing her plate before you’re even halfway through yours. She smiles up at you adoringly, and Dash makes a quip about her eating for two.

Blush fills her ivory face, and she looks away from everyone’s gazes. Twilight busies herself reprimanding her partner, but you ignore their playful and flirtatious spat as you slide your half-eaten plate to Rarity. She looks at you with a frown, and you reply by scooping up a steamed floret of broccoli with your fork and bringing it to her lips. Carefully, she takes it off of the edge of the fork and smiles appreciatively, polishing off the rest of the generous portion in only a few minutes’ time.

Dessert comes shortly after, and you share that with her too. She protests a great deal as you slide her your slice of cheesecake, but Twilight and Dash offer her encouragement and she finally buckles, eating it slowly over renewed conversation. Whatever the conversation has become, you’re not sure at this point. At the end of glass five your vision has the characteristic slow pickup each time you turn your head, and you’ve instead contented yourself with watching her eat. Each chocolate-dribbled and incredibly rich bite disappears into her mouth, where she chews an appropriate number of times before swallowing it with relish. At the end, she leans back only slightly in her chair, manners still intact, and you playfully hook your foot around the chair leg, not so subtly pulling her over to you, though it takes some exertion.

She looks around, a bit embarrassed by the display, unsure if she should reprimand you or avoid calling attention to it. She apparently decides upon the latter, leaning her head on your shoulder as you rub the swelling of her belly under the table cloth. From her sitting position it rolls up like a masterfully shaped hill, tighter than ever against the confines of her lovely gown. It’s taut to the touch, and you pat her kindly.

The bill arrives, and you dig the appropriate amount of coins from your pocket. It’s a little bit more expensive than you’d expected thanks to the plethora of drinks you went through over the course of the relatively short meal, but you remind yourself that renovations on the boutique are finished and you’ve got spare income as a result. It’s half of what prompted the evening’s beginning, and you leave a more-than-slightly-generous tip. Together, you all rise, and finding your feet is difficult. Five glasses of wine are especially potent at this point, and your feet seem heavy and awkward as you make your way out the door of the restaurant.

Dash and Twilight smile and thank you for such an enjoyable evening, walking off in the direction of Twilight’s tree house. You and Rarity take the winding cobblestone road back toward the urban center of Ponyville, where your tiny apartment lies waiting. You lean on her for support every now and then, and she looks worriedly up at you. When her voice comes out, it seems distant and quiet, though you’re fairly sure she hasn’t dropped her tone.

“Are you certain you’re alright? Goodness knows how much you had to drink in there. What on earth were you thinking?”
You shrug awkwardly, almost losing your balance, swearing mentally that you’re not as bad off as you seem to be and there’s just a small bump in the cobblestone where you were walking. She braces her head against your side and your fingers play idly with her hair, drawing an irritated groan from her.
“You know, this is not how I meant this evening to end. Honestly, it was going quite well. If you’d just behaved yourself... and your shirt! More work to do tomorrow.”
You sigh.
“But...”
Your ears perk up.
“But it was quite brave of you. A dashing gentleman, through and through.”
You reach the stairs, and she helps you up, taking the last couple steps without you.
“You know... gentlemen can get rewards from their ladies.”
You look up the stairs at her, framed against the hall lights, her broad backside silhouetted and wiggling slightly.
You hike the last few steps, trying awkwardly to catch up to her, stumbling a bit as you go. She playfully dodges and hurries down the hall to your door, reaching it long before you do, wiggling her hips again seductively.
You screw up your courage and take the hallway in a bounding stride, bumping up against the wall as you reach the door, fumbling for your key as your hands run through her mane. You finally get it in and try to turn it, forgetting the required jiggle and wrenching it hard. It doesn’t give, and she bumps the door with her rear as you attempt again to turn it. Jiggle satisfied, the messy lock gives and you swing the door open. She tries to dash forward, and you try to follow, tripping and stumbling. Her playful canter turns into a panicked dodge, trying to avoid her precious baby carrying body being caught in your clumsy fall. You clip her side, and you both spin onto the ground. You manage to get your arms around her, sheltering her as you both roll. You lay on your back, her heavy frame on top of you, knocking the wind out of you. She hears the breath escape you, and gets up with all haste.
“Are you alright? What were you THINKING? Just imagine what could have happened if... Oh no... did you hit your head? Did I hit my... What were we THINKING?”
She looks at you in a panic for some answer, and you try to get your bearings, vision swimming. Gradually her face comes into view. Her hair is an utter mess between your playing with it and the fall, and as you collect yourself you start to splutter and choke back a laugh.
She looks at you, infuriated. “Laughing?! How can you be laughing?! We ALL could have been hurt!”
Your laughter picks up, chest-heaving laughs at first, spreading down to your stomach. You wince, breath still out of you there, and you try to sit up.
She harrumphs at you, eyes glaring, slamming the still ajar door shut, and turning on the lights. They sting your eyes and you shield your face from them.
“You... you need to be more responsible. We both do. It’s not long before, well... you know.”
You try to stop laughing, and get swatted hard in the face with her tail. Attention finally on the situation at hand, you sit up and look at her. She’s teary-eyed.
“WE could have been hurt.” She looks at her swollen stomach, voice still unsteady. “I’m... I’m still not sure we aren’t. How you could be so reckless... honestly. I’m going to go get in contact with Twilight, if she’s still awake. Go shower off and sober up. We ARE going to talk about this.”

She storms out of the room, leaving you to collect yourself with a grumble. You try to think of something clever with regards to Twilight and still being up, but your mind is cloudy and your speech slurred. In place of any intelligible sound a grunt comes out, your sides still hurting from laughter and heavy pony. Peeling your shirt off, you make for the shower.

You let the water wash over your face. Your brain’s clearing up a bit now, though you’ve only been in the shower for ten minutes at the most. Slowly, you realize what trouble you both might be in, and you sink to your knees in the shower. You’re unsure if you should go out and comfort her while she waits for a reply from Twilight. Realizing you’ve done plenty of damage already, you sit back. You need to sober up, fast. You count in your mind the number of drinks you had. Five. Not much food, either, but you’re still physically full. You can’t have metabolised it all, yet... right? You shake your head, water getting in your eyes. You can’t get less drunk, but you can avoid it getting worse. Hunched over, you carefully direct your finger to the back of your mouth. There’s a knock on the door, and you freeze before you can manage to see your plan through. Without waiting for a reply, the knob glows and the door swings open.

She stands there, eyes puffy but dry. Carefully, she waddles in, taking a seat next to the shower, leaning against the base of the tub and sighing. You slide the door aside, wet hands reaching out gently for her. Her dress is off, her hair is down in a mess, but she seems to be getting composed. Finally she manages.
“Letter’s back from Twilight. She says... she says everything should be fine. Told me how to check on things with my... well, you know. Said to be careful and not exert myself down there for a bit. She... she said you probably rescued us both.”
You look up from your sulking spot under the hot onslaught coming from above.
“I’m... I’m just so happy.”
You look over at her, and she’s crying. She scoots closer, and you take to your knees, leaning over the base of the tub and pulling her close.
“It was such a close call, and... I’m sorry. It’s just... you were so irresponsible tonight. You know that, don’t you?”
She breaks from the hug to look into your eyes. They’re filling up, hot and stinging, and you know that you can’t blame it on the shower. She sees it, and your nod. Nuzzling your face gratefully, she edges her body closer to yours.
“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to get so... angry with you. I was being difficult as well; I shouldn’t have. We should have come home sooner, but I just...”
She trails off, looking back at the floor.
You rub your hand from her hair down her neck to her side and she cranes her neck to meet your eyes.
“Yes. Yes, I admit it. I wanted it. You’ve just been so bad about it this week, I figured we were finally going to get around to it tonight. I know it’s not very ladylike to take advantage of someone, but I just can’t imagine why you’ve been so distant this week. I mean, ever since Dash and Twilight-”
She stops and looks at you.
“Is that what all that was about? Tonight didn’t help at all then... and the reason you...”
You look away and she bursts out into a loud laugh.
“That’s what this is about?! Oh goodness me. You’re jealous! You’re really jealous of them.”
You glare at her.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make fun dear, it’s just so unexpected. You’re normally so open about these things. I mean, the supermarket trip! I didn’t exactly hear you say “No” this time either... How on earth am I supposed to know you feel something if you never say it?”
You lean back in the shower, pretending to pout. Apparently you do a fairly good job, as the scraping and thumping of hooves and legs alerts you to her climbing in next to you. She lays down in the base of the tub with you, large form barely fitting next to yours, forcing you to snake your way around her. From that position, she nuzzles your face with her nose, hoof groping about the shower for something to help pull her to a sitting position. You try to reach an arm around her to keep her next to you, but she forces her way past, finally sitting up and allowing you room to roll onto your back. The water beats across your chest, starting to get cold. She turns the dial slightly to let more hot water out and starts to shampoo her hair.
“I’ll respect your wishes then. We can take a break from... from that. No need to worry about a thing. Twilight advised we not do anything down there, so we won’t.”

She finishes washing the shampoo out of her hair as you admire her. Even soaking wet, her body has a grace and beauty about it that no pony you’ve met can rival. She sits next to you, ample flanks spread across the shower floor. The extra dessert tonight helped their cause, and you admire how much of the shower space is occupied by just the expanse of her large backside. As she reaches to grab the soap, that precious stomach comes into full view. She lathers up her coat, sprinkling some of her bath salt in the water collecting behind your bodies and scooping it up with her hooves. Each time she turns around to get a hoof full to rub into herself, she tries to hide her glances at your lower body. You follow her subtle gazes and realize what has her attention. You’ve been so engaged in her bathing ritual you failed to notice how hard you’d begun to get. She clears her throat loudly, turning again behind her, rubbing the soapy foam into her chest and sides. Carefully, she manages onto her hooves, beginning to soap up her bottom. She leaves the soap hanging there, moving on to conditioning her hair.

Cautiously, you reach out and grip the thick expanse of her flanks. Her steady diet of large meals has made them bigger than you could have ever dreamed when you’d first married. Your hand practically disappears the more your squeeze those round buttocks, and she continues to shampoo and condition her tail and hair, pretending to be oblivious. Determined not to be ignored, you slide a finger into her. She stiffens at the suddenness before turning around to face you, keeping her womanhood just out of reach and stepping over your legs carefully.

“No, no darling. I simply must respect your wishes. I’d hate to force you into something uncomfortable. I’ve been so wrong in not considering your feelings up until now, I’d hate to deny you that.”

You sit up, trying to work your hands under her and back into her womanhood. She stops their advance with her outstretched hoof. “You know what Twilight said. Please... we’ll not be doing anything there tonight.” You sigh at the absurdity of it. Even to your still addled mind, the complexity of why any amount of foreplay there could risk anyone’s health escapes you. You take to your feet, grumbling. She opens her mouth to say something and closes it. You look at her for a moment before sighing, turning to the side and beginning to stroke yourself.
“Oh now that is just NOT FAIR.”
You look back down at her.
“If I can’t get anything, you most certainly may not. Stop that. Stop it this instant.”
You pause in your motion for a moment before grinning playfully at her, continuing slowly, pretending to savor the sensation. She grits her teeth and grabs the bottle of conditioner.
“No. Absolutely not. You’re not going to have all the fun yourself.”
She squirts a great deal of conditioner onto her hoof and grabs hold of you with both of her front legs. Working rhythmically up and down, she continues her repeated motions until you’re gripping her hair. Your head tilts back, and the sensation, though distant, is powerful. It’s all the wine still going through you, and you know it, but she manages to continue for quite some time before you’re even close to the edge. By that point she’s panting from the exertion, legs aching, and eyes looking up at you accusingly.
“Well?”
You grit your teeth, unable to speak.
“No. You’re done.”
She stops, and you gasp and grab her hooves, forcing them back where they were.
“No. I told you. You don’t get them anymore. You’re taking too long.”
She turns around, leaving you with a lathered-up member and a terrifying case of blue balls. You let out a whimper, only half playful, and she sighs with her back to you, lowering her forelegs toward the ground.
“You... you can’t put it in there, alright? But you can look at me if you want, while you... while you try to finish up.”
You sigh, stroking up and down again, getting closer and grabbing a handful of her meaty haunches with your free hand. You play your thumb around the outside of her slit, and she wiggles away a little bit. Changing tactics, you rub around the pucker of her ass. She sighs and shifts a little more, now out of room in the shower to escape to. You close the few remaining inches, slick fingertip slipping in.
“Nnnoooooo. It’s... it’s dirty back there. Don’t. You can’t.”
You stop rubbing yourself, other hand now rubbing her flank reassuringly as you work your little finger all the way in, hoping to loosen her up. You work a little more lubricating conditioner from your hard-on, slipping your ring finger in next. She whimpers a bit, and tries to whisper out something about “a true lady musn’t” but you switch to your middle finger and she nearly melts in your arms.
“Ffffff”
You slide out of her carefully, trying to let her get her words out.
“Ffffingers. Your fingers. Oh yes.”
You look at your hands proudly. They’re one of a kind. You apply a bit more lubricant and slip two fingers carefully and slowly in. She scratches with her hooves, neck craning.
“Put it in... oh please, come now. Put it in.”
You slide them in and out carefully for another minute at least, re-applying lubricant when necessary. Despite all her protests, you refuse her the one still throbbing part of you that she wants. She’s squeaking in the hot cascade now.
“Pleeease pleasepleasepleaseplease. Never. I’ll not look at another again. No one gets... no one gets anything. Please. You know you want it just as badly. Just... do it!”
You slap her plump bottom gently, watching the waves of flesh rock all the way up her back. Her tongue hangs out; she’s shocked at her own enjoyment, and she twists her head around. You lean up and give her a kiss.
“My lips are your lips dear. Everything I am belongs to you, and you belong to me. Isn’t that the agreement? Please. Give me what’s yours.”
You rise to your knees, head pushing against the loosened hole she’s presenting to you. You work it in carefully, much more difficult to accommodate than the two simple fingers you had before. Her moans fill the shower, steaming up the glass and mirrors. Cautious at first, you work all the way in until you’re completely inside. She lies there, motionless, whimpering and moaning as you slowly slide out and back in. Not too quick to move, you focus on performing the difficult task without harming her. A few more careful thrusts and she’s loose enough to move in and out of relatively easily. Getting the hang of relaxing herself around you at will, she grips suddenly.
“Go.”
It begins. You’re thrusting hard, knees aching and tired after only a few attempts, but slowly the pleasure building in you drowns out all other sensations. The added stamina from those distant senses keeps you going as she gradually loosens around you, and your pace picks up until you’re slamming her at your regular pace. She’s working her hoof around her stomach, finally finding and massaging her clit with your helpful guidance. Her other three legs keep her stomach off of the bottom of the tub as she leans her shoulder into the basin for support. You push her harder up against it, thighs clapping against her ample amounts of flank. The sound of your thrusts and your bodies connecting fills the room. She’s barely audible over them, whimpers and moans unlike the others you’re used to in your sexual escapades. These are more desperate, as if she were trying to place a new taste or sensation against one she’d known previously.
“It’s... it’s... AAaaaaauugh.”
Both of your screams and moans pick up. She’s so incredibly tight, even now. Tighter than she’s ever been in your previous sex, tighter than anything you’ve experienced. The heat, the lubrication, everything’s different and unexpected. The new sensations carry you up and away, and you feel yourself finally building up to a climax. Her struggling, rubbing hoof increases its pace, and you hear the change in her breathing from heavy to rapid that you know signals her oncoming orgasm.
She cums almost at the same time you do, knees buckling as you’re forced to keep her off her stomach with your own improvised lifting. Standing up with her back half in your arms and angling her down as you thrust into her, she jiggles and squirms as you finally explode inside her.

The waves of pleasure almost take you off your feet, and you feel your hot sticky release filling up the cavity you made with your desperate thrusts. You barely manage to set her down before you’re leaning against the wall catching your breath, cum still spurting out occasionally onto her prone body. She looks up, catching some on her face, and opens her mouth as you aim for it. A messy string covers up her muzzle and gets into her mouth and eyes. She tries to wipe them clean with her hooves, using the shower water to help, as you continue to pant doggedly. She looks up at you, getting the last of your seed off her hoof with her tongue.
“It’s a different taste. It’s not a bad one. Just different.”
She manages a smile at you between exhausted breaths.
“Thank you for tonight. I know it’s not been easy for either of us, but you really are everything a lady could hope for.” You smile down at her, breathing laboured, and mouth those three words you two exchange during tender moments. “I love you too, darling.”

She rolls over closer to your feet, looking up at you. You scoop her into your arms, kissing her neck, reaching past her to turn off the shower. You towel both yourself and her off, her hair coming out a bit of a mess. She agrees to leave it until tomorrow, and you very carefully pick her up and carry her to the bedroom. Her weight is difficult to manage, but you know how much she loves to feel small, especially at this point in her pregnancy. You manage the trip with grace, and you set her gently on your bed.

She’s curled up waiting for you when you emerge from the closet with something to wear to bed. She squints, trying to make out what it is. Realization dawns and she bursts into a wide grin.
Clad in the first shirt she made for you, you ease into bed, spooning up against Rarity, your arms wrapped around her precious tummy. She wriggles on the bed until her back is up against your chest and lets out an enormous sigh. She stays there until the both of you drift off into sleep.