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Entry 6: (Summer 78th, 1010 PNM) Sad, Light Domination, Drama, Cunnilingus, Toy Play

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78th of Summer, 1010 PN

Diary,
Sorry for not writing in you for a couple days. I’m not sure why I’m bothering now, you don’t feel private.. I just need a place to talk after a long day. Maybe if she could read you now, she’d know just how much her breaking my trust broke me. I wish she would. She could read your pages, and she could know how sorry I am, how hurt I am, and how lonely I am without her. She could read them, and she can know why we can never be together again. Let me tell you why. Let me tell you about today, diary.

It’s mid afternoon when I wake up. I’m woken up by a very insistent knocking on my bedroom window. It takes a minute to remember where I am. I haven’t left my bed since I got up. I know I smell bad, and I know I’m a mess. I try to straighten my mane up, and go back to sleep. The knocking returns, and I curl into a ball and hug my pillow into my body more tightly. In my half-sleep, I hope that the pegasus I’m snuggled up to won’t kick me out of bed and answer the window. I whisper to her that they’ll go away, and the knocking increases in volume, obviously holding a different opinion. It’s finally enough to make me sit up, and that’s enough to wake me up. I heave my pillow-partner aside. I’ve taken to cuddling with it because I can’t sleep without another body anymore. It’ll go away in time, I tell myself again.

I’m halfway out of bed when I remember the reason I’ve spent so much time in it. A pegasus knocking on my window? I peek out it and spy the mailmare, and breathe a sigh of relief. She’s probably worried because I haven’t come outside to pick up the mail in a couple of days. I open my window and accept a full saddlebag’s load of mail. I thank her for her time and mumble an excuse for not getting my mail sooner, and she salutes me before fluttering off with the usual swerve in her flight.

As soon as it’s polite to, I slam the window shut. No other ponies will be coming in that way if I can help it. It might be a louder and harder than I mean it to be, but I’m past caring. I need to take a shower and get myself together. Ponies are going to start coming to call again soon, and who knows what’s happened while I’ve been gone. Another basilisk attack? Ponyville’s problems seem distant as I slog through my mail.

I toss aside a few bills to be paid, levitate a letter opener, and start going through all of the letters of thanks and requests for help. I categorize them in order of urgency, and breathe a sigh of relief that nopony seems to need anything today. They’re in luck too, because I really don’t feel like housecalls. I lie back in my bed and pull the pillow back up against me as I thumb through the mail. Sure, sure. It’s pathetic, but there’s nopony around to judge. I snuggle in for a moment and sniffle. It’s warm, and it smells like her. That’s good enough for now. It's enough to let me go an hour without crying. Baby steps.

I find a letter from the Canterlot castle in typical flowing script. I open it in a hurry, wondering if it’s about my professorship. Instead I find a form letter addressed to all persons of royal importance past and present asking for donations for Canterlot’s school for gifted foals. I don’t have the spare bits at the moment, but as a show of good faith every letter seems to have come with a token of gratitude. I shake the envelope and two tickets to Canterlot’s finest spa fall out.

I tighten my grip on the pillow and think about the spa for a moment. Fine food, high class ponies, and pampering? Not the sort of thing I’d weather alone. The last time I went to the Canterlot spa, I spent the two hours after locked in a bathroom with my hooves between my legs. Beautiful, high class mares bathing and talking so casually about sexual matters they’d normally decline ever being interested in...

My thoughts drift from those mares to my favorite one. I can’t help a hoof straying down my chest to my nethers as I imagine Rainbow’s long list of sexual interests she once shared with me. It had seemed so personal, so naughty... I find myself rubbing shallow circles on my lower lips. My pulse is picking up, and I roll my head over and take a deep breath into the pillow that smells so sweetly of her strawberry soap. That same night, I’d set out to push every one of her little buttons. Licking behind her ears, playing with her wings, rubbing her hooves, Suckling her in unusual places... I can almost hear her begging for more again.

I relish the memory of our last sexual exploits before we parted ways. I’m rubbing a bit harder now, and I roll awkwardly to the edge of the bed and grope under it for the toy we’ve shared countless times. As I fumble through quills and parchment blindly, I remember pushing her biggest button the hardest. In her cloud home, licking her silly while she was strapped down. Letting one of her hooves free to slip a toy between my legs-

My hoof grasps a familiar thick rubber object, and I can’t yank it out and slip it in fast enough. It’s freshly cleaned and sanitized from my last use as always, but I lick it lamely, pretending to savor her taste once again as I lube it up naughtily. Then it disappears between my legs, and my back legs kick and buck of their own accord as I none too gently plunge it in and start working it roughly. It hurts for a moment until I loosen to take it all, but the fantasy shifts to her punishing me for hurting her. She just keeps slamming me with it, telling me what a hopeless bitch I am.

I crawl onto my knees and punish myself, ass in the air. She’s such a quiet submissive pony in bed, nothing like what she is from day to day... But now I imagine the horseshoe being on the other hoof. She’s slapping my flanks roughly, and telling me it’s the only way she’ll forgive me for hurting her the way I did. I know somewhere I’m crying, that I’m enjoying the sex less and less...

I let the toy drop out, and fall onto my side, panting. Her name slips from my lips in a soft whimper, and I cry into the pillow for the first time that day. What was initially numbness floods back to clench at my chest, and make it hard to breathe. I genuinely fell for her, and I drove her off... I had to drive her off. Our feelings make me too dangerous. I throw the dildo across the room and the pillow goes after it. All the pillows go flying, and the comforter goes next. She’s the idiot. She’s the one who broke my trust. We were finally settling down, and I wasn’t having any trouble with my magic. We were happy. Why would she break my trust? Why would she dive into my personal secrets, instead of asking me?

I run out of things to throw and rip the sheets off the bed. All of it has her scent, every last bit of it has been washed to keep the love we’ve made from staining it. Now I don’t want to see them again. The colors are ugly, and I hate them. With the fiercest scream my lungs can manage I fling them across the room, scattering all the letters and mail bundled up in them. I sit on my bare mattress, panting and trying to catch my breath. The tears are gone, and now that I survey my destroyed room, the anger is quickly fading. I’m tired of feeling and hurting and crying over all of this. I toss the tickets to Canterlot Spa onto my nightstand as I start to pick things up. I don’t want to go. I have no reason not to go... but I have no reason to go, and I have no interest in working up my hormones again.

I scoop up the mail from where it’s flown after my tirade, and begin by reorganizing the help requests. Amid them is a town hall meeting request that’s dated yesterday. There’ll be a townhall meeting at the start of next month, and the brief overview of the agenda makes it clear I should be there. “The recent attacks that have turned a pony to stone” and the “explosive use of magical power at the library” both make the top of the list. I sigh and pin the letter to my “to-do” board. I’ll have to deal with Dash then. I might as well visit her now.

I’ll need to shower before I go to check on her. She’ll probably be at work, but I should check on the state of her wounds. I realize with a sudden chill and a twist in my guts that she might be lying at home unable to move, or might have never made it home that night. The gravity of everything that passed crashes onto me, and I barely manage to turn on the taps once I reach the shower before I’m left slumping against the wall.

I need to do this. I could get any other pony to go and check on her, but I’m the one who did it to her. I hurt her, not just emotionally but very physically. There was a lot of blood on my hooves that night. I look into the basin of the shower. This is the first time I’ve turned it on since I washed them off that night before going to bed. There’s still a hint of red that’s now stained into the floor around the drain. I’ll have to really scrub to clean it off if I can’t magic it away. I summon up my will, and it comes surprisingly easily. I pour it into the stains on the floor and then release it, and watch as they vanish in a burst of light and sound.

Will patching up Rainbow Dash if she’s hurt be that easy? I couldn't seem to access my magic around her that night. Just remembering wrestling with the will of fire leaves me feeling exhausted. I realize that steam has risen up from the shower, and the water’s finally gotten hot.

I slide in with a groan and let it splash onto my face. I push my matted and soaked mane out of my eyes, and flop onto my back, letting the hot water dance across my chest in loud drops. I close my eyes, and gradually the thundering of the water on all sides of me becomes hypnotic. I cover my ears with my hooves, and it takes on a sound akin to summer rain on a sturdy rooftop. The water sounds distant, and I let out a large sigh. My skin and coat tingle as the heat spreads to the parts of my body that aren't under the water.

It’s been a long time since I could lie down in the shower. It’s hard to take up this position when there’s two ponies in it. I lift my hoof to the ceiling and let my eyes open. It seems so far away. As I squint through the bouncing droplets of water, I feel as though I could touch the ceiling if I were a little closer. I know better, and the realization that it’s at least four meters up ruins the image. I roll my eyes and close them again. The house is so quiet now. The water is white noise in my mind, and for the first time, I just feel... still. Even my breathing seems to stop. I realize in the quiet of my bathroom that my house is truly empty for the first time in my life. I've gone without friends before, but I've always had my parents, or foal sitters, or Spike, or Rainbow in my home. Now I’m really alone.

I sit up. It doesn’t have to feel bad that I’m alone like this. A sense of responsibility for myself creeps in, and I resolve to get everything done today that I’ve been meaning to do for weeks. With no one to distract me, I can finally read all the books I’ve been meaning to, and prepare for my professorship in Canterlot.

I stop squirting shampoo into my hoof and stare at it for a minute. Do I even want to go? I’m still not sure... I picture Her, the regal Princess welcoming me home. She won’t have any time to talk, but she’ll be glad I’m there. I’ll be glad she’s there. I’ll get all the work done that I’ve been meaning to get done, and I’ll master hundreds of new magics that I just don’t have the time to study otherwise. The water pools in the cup of my hoof and the shampoo starts to trickle away.

Her teachings say that time ill spent is time that might well have never been. I watch the shampoo trickle out of my hooves, and wonder if my time in Ponyville hasn’t been the same. I think about the last few months with Rainbow Dash, and I imagine what the Princess would say. Her teachings also say that one never loses anything in friendship and love. Does time count? Have I really been wasting mine? I’m pushing thirty years old. I’ve been in Ponyville for almost a decade and a half. The last ten years haven’t even been adventurous. I’ve learned next to nothing except how to serve a town of helpless ponies. Isn’t it about time I got serious about my time?

I squirt more shampoo into my hoof and start to rub it into my mane. No more wasting time then. Visiting Rainbow Dash is chief on my list of things to do today. I need to make sure she’s ok to put my mind to rest. I’ll never get to my studies peacefully tonight otherwise. I’m sure I have some things of hers to return as well, I can drop them off at her house if I need to. Perfect efficiency. Not a wasted minute if I can help it. Maybe I can even think of a way to give her her things while she’s at work without seeming suspicious.

I rinse the shampoo and hop out of the shower in a hurry. Toweling off takes only a few minutes, and then I comb my mane and hurry down to the kitchen to have breakfast. Two days without a meal have finally caught up. As my mane dries, I try to thumb through the Ponyville newspapers and catch up on the last few days. When it’s clear nothing of importance has surfaced, I wolf down the last of my lettuce and mustard wrap and strap on my saddlebags.

I search the house for Rainbow’s things, and eventually I have them piled up. A couple of her own books, one of her saddlebags, some dresses and saddles she’s worn on dates, a toothbrush and a hairbrush, and her makeup kit. I survey the pile and wonder if I really want it gone. My resolve in the shower seems distant... Now that I’m actually about to go out the door, anything seems possible. What if she asks to stay together? The thought bounces around in my head. Would I say no? She was hurt, but so I was I... I ache to be touched by her again, to not spend the rest of my life in loneliness. Canterlot seems so distant, so cold, and so foreign. My bed upstairs is a warm place filled with happy memories. Is it really impossible for it to be that way again?

I decide to leave it all here just in case. I’ll ask her if she wants it back. She can come to my place to pick it up. We can have tea, and talk. It’s braver than I’d first imagined but... why run from possibilities?

The decision doesn’t unwind the spring that’s coiled in my chest as I walk out the door. If anything, every step makes it tighter. How do you talk casually to a pony you blasted out of a window? Will we just forget that it happened, and talk like friends of so many years? We could try, but it would be a dire lie. I know as I imagine it that it would kill our friendship in the long run. We have to face it, even if we don’t want to. The thought makes me sick. My lettuce wrap isn’t settling well at all now. I realize I didn’t brush my teeth before leaving the house, and contemplate going back. Can I go to her smelling like mustard and lettuce?

I chide myself for thinking of excuses for retreating. If I go back into my library now, I doubt I’ll have the courage to face it again for a week. The next time I see Rainbow Dash after all of this can’t be the town hall meeting that we have to work together in. For better or worse, I need to at least manage to make our relationship function for a few months more.

Unfortunately, I don’t navigate my task flawlessly. Just getting to the weather team leaves me running the gauntlet through a dozen ponies, all with requests and considerations. I do my best to be polite and explain that I’m in a hurry, but I don’t reach Rainbow Dash’s work team until the afternoon sun is starting its descent. When I finally find them, not a soul knows where Rainbow is. Eventually I track down the pony currently in charge, and she says that Rainbow Dash has called in sick for the last two days. I express my heartfelt concern, and leave with the spring in my chest wound tighter than ever.
Rainbow Dash called in sick? How badly did I hurt her? I don’t think I’ve ever heard her call in sick specifically... Though a variety of other excuses cropped up when she worked through her lazier days. I trot over to her cloud home, and summon up a cloudwalking spell with no trouble. I can probably reach her from the second floor of Sugar Cube corner if I walk a straight line up and over. Reaching a pegasus house is an ordeal though, and I’m sweating by the time I manage to find a path up into the clouds and hike back over to where Rainbow’s home is.

The magic comes out easily enough, and I’m hopeful as I knock on her door. The fluffy texture of the clouds that pegasi weave is firm and rigid underneath, and I can get a good resounding knock if I use enough force. I hope it’s not louder inside than it seems outside.

No reply comes, and I begin to feel sick. How long ago did Rainbow Dash last speak to somepony? What am I going to find if I try the door on my own?

I consider walking away and letting it go at this. She probably doesn’t want to see me... I’m the one who made her... sick, after all. I knock again, a little more urgently, and try to speak to her through the walls that keep out thunderstorms at these altitudes.
“Rainbow Dash?”

My voice sounds so strange. Even the conversations with the weatherponies didn’t do its alien feeling justice. As I think about it, I notice that my voice has taken a different tone when I’m trying to talk to her. It’s so much softer than the voice I use for other ponies. I try to correct for it as I call her name again, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t help softening it... I wonder if it’s noticeable to other ponies?

I try the door handle to take my mind off the potential for such an obvious past tell. Though I jiggle it and try my best, it’s deadbolted. I call out for her again, and tell her that if she doesn’t let me in, I’m going to come in on my own. I begin to gather my will after no reply comes forward.

The sound of the deadbolt sliding back breaks my concentration. The door cracks, and Rainbow Dash looks out of it at me. She swings it open just enough to lean against it. She folds her hooves, and looks anywhere but me.
“Hey Twilight. How’re things?”

Saying that Dash is a mess is being too kind. She stares at a fixed point in her door frame with eyes much too red and puffy to belong to Ponyville’s bravest flier. They look so dull and sunken, and they’re framed by a rat’s nest of a mane. It’s tangled, it’s unkempt, and it puts my two-day bed-head to shame. I slept on my hair, it looks like she’s been pulling at hers. The bags under her eyes tell me she’s done a lot less sleeping than I did. Somewhere under the absurd tangle of various colors, her ears remain locked flat against her head. After a moment, bloodshot rose-tinted eyes flit back to me.

“You ok? You’re staring.”

I almost laugh. Instead, I want to cry. She’s asking me if I’m ok? I look her over for a sign of our struggle two nights ago.

“I- Yeah... I just... I’m looking to see if you’re still hurt from... the other night.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but closes it again. After a moment, she rolls her eyes.

“Huh, yeah. Yeah, it’s here.”

She turns her side and lifts an unpreened and messy wing to reveal a wicked gash under her coat. It’s scabbing over, but around it the flesh has gotten tender and red.

“You just come here for that? I’m fine. Don’t need anypony checking up on me. Just been feeling a little sick s’all.”

I try to think of a way to break through that stubborn ego, and aim for the side that’s hurt instead of the pride that’s hurt.

“You’re looking a little... That looks infected. You should let me take a closer look at it. It’s gonna make it hard to fly someday if you don’t give it proper treatment.”

She sighs. I decide to be more direct.

“It’s a weak excuse to come in and talk, I know. You could go to Ponyville general hospital and get a real nurse to look at it, but you know you don’t want to go out right now. Just let me come in and you can say what... What I think you want to say while I fix it up.”

She steps back and moves to close the door. I stop it with my hoof. The glare she gives me could turn lesser ponies to stone.

“What makes you think I have anything to say to you?”

“Because... we’re both a mess. And I’ve got something to say to you... I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

Her eyes open wide for the first time in our conversation, and she steps back.

“Yeah... Yeah, come in. It’s been really hard to sleep... this is the side I sleep on, y’know?”

I smile and enter. I do know. She loves to sleep on her right side.

“Yeah. You took the right side of my bed so that you could always be the big spoon.”

She clicks on a light and sits down before replying.

“You’ve been thinking about that too, huh?”

There’s no sense in lying to her.

“Yeah... I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”

I wish I’d chosen better words. I’m still not sure where I stand in all of this. I’m not ready for things to-

Her ears rise and perk up at this. Suddenly, she leans in, lips out. I turn my head as gently as possible and let her kiss my cheek. She takes the kiss, and tries to move a little further forward. Her hoof gently slides up my face, and moves to turn my head. I resist, and she stops and leans back.

“S-sorry... You don’t wanna...”

I step back away from her. The windows aren’t letting in much light, but what they’re giving me paints a picture of her waiting, expecting my reply with a quivering lip in their scarce rays. In this light, I can still see the burned spots in her coat. Spots I put on her. I can’t trust myself. I screw up my courage and make up my mind. This is it. I’m going to walk out that door as soon as I’m sure she’ll be alright.

“No... Sorry... Nothing’s changed from the other night. I just... Let me see that side, huh?”

She nods, and her ears drop back down. Her head hangs as she turns to let me look at her. The poorly cared for wings lift up and I lean in. As best I can, I slip a hoof onto her side. She sighs, and I remember briefly how soft she can be under my hooves.

“I can’t see it... can I get a little light in here?”

She nods and I lift the shades up with my magic.

“You’ve got your magic back.”

Her voice seems distant. I just nod. I try my best not to think about how many times I’ve touched these sides in a different way... how her flanks and haunches are only inches away...

“It was always my fault that you were having trouble, huh?”

I swallow. I don’t want to rub salt in her wounds... I’m just as bad for her as she’s bad for me. I wish I could tell her so. I slide my hoof further up her wing joint, looking for how far the infection has spread. So close, the inviting warmth of her marehood is growing wet from the constant touching. I resist the urge to push her down and bury my face between her legs.

“You stayed with me so long, even though it hurt. Why can’t I do the same?”

I sigh.

“Was it just sex?”

There it is. An easy way out. I gulp and nod as I rub the wound gently. With just a little effort, the magic I’m pouring into her eases the redness. The swelling fades gradually. She should have gotten stitches and let it heal naturally. There’ll be a scar there now, but she should fly just fine. She hisses and bites her lip as the magic does its painful work knitting gashed muscle and flesh together. It’s obviously very tender. If only she knew how much more it was than this, but... but right now, I rub the messily healing gash on her side to take my mind off the heat growing between my legs.

“Then... Can’t it just be that again? Look... I’m sorry.”

She sniffles and steps away. I stand up straight and try to look her in the eye, but she sinks onto her couch and puts her hooves over her face.

“I’m sorry I made it more complicated... I... Don’t you find me... y’know... Good enough to sleep with again?”

I shuffle my hooves awkwardly at the question and look at the floor. When neither of us says anything for a minute, I clear my throat and try to figure out how to ask her if I can just look at her side. My hooves ache to touch her again... I know if I get the chance, they’re going to sneak in a grope, and I don’t want to stop them. I want to feel those toned flanks between my hooves one last time. I open my mouth to tell her I need to check her side again. Instead, she drops her hooves down and looks up at me, broken.

“Don’t I look good to you anymore? You said I was beautiful, but I... Am I not even good looking to you anymore?”

I sigh and flop down into one of her chairs. This could be very easy. Somewhere in me, I’m a little angry. She’s not even trying to let me do this fairly. I can only keep being honest with her. My resolve stiffens, and I remember that I’m not here to feel her up.

“I... Of course you’re still good looking. Goodness’ sake Rainbow... I... I just want to... It’s taking all I’ve got to keep my hooves off you. Just looking at those... Just looking at your butt and being so close to your body right now, I...”

She sneaks off the couch toward me.

“So do it... It’s ok... I don’t mind. Come over anytime you want a quickie. If we just meet up every now and then. We shouldn’t be miserable and alone about that, right? S’how it all started.”

Her lips find mine, and her hooves drop between my legs. I can feel her smile softly as she finds out how wet I am. I sigh and spread my legs. I’d love for those lips to find my mareparts and sweep me into blissful oblivion...

But the last of my resolve sparks up at the same time. I push her back with the last of my strength. I can’t keep resisting her like this...

“It’s not just sex anymore... It can’t ever be... you... you broke my trust, Rainbow.”

She steps back and I can see her struggling not to sob. It’s in her voice.

“You don’t even... You don’t even wanna be my friend anymore? This whole thing ruined it all?”

I shake my head.

“I don’t know... I’m not sure. Friends don’t break other friend’s trust.”

She finally sobs. It’s a pitiful sound coming from her.

“I wish it’d never happened!”

My insides twist.

“I wish I’d never- We’d never... I just wanted to be close to you. I gave up everything to stay here with you! Now it’s all ruined!”

She slumps down and sobs into her hooves. I step forward and rub her back. From somewhere in the mess of crying pony, her voice chokes out.

“I’m sorry, Twi... I’m really sorry. Please don’t stop being my friend...”

I run my hooves through her mane and lift her face up, making up my mind.

“Rainbow... I forgive you for the diary. I’m sorry for hurting you... This is all...”

I motion to her still singed coat and she nods.

“This is why we can’t ever be more than friends though.”

She nods.

“I’m dangerous, Rainbow. When I’m with you, I’m dangerous.”

She nods and starts to say something, but I cut her off. She looks up at me, and her lips look so soft...

“Just gimme... One last kiss, huh?”

My resolve is failing.

I’m stupid. I’m kissing her now. My hooves find her haunches, and she makes a noise akin to a question from between our lips. I've caught her off guard, I grip her haunches harder, and she suddenly starts working my mouth fiercely. I know she sees it as her only in. I have no heart to tell her I don’t think it’s an in at all. Right now I ache to be touched, and I have to have her. Her hooves grip mine, and she forces me to squeeze her butt harder.

It’s just as firm as I remember it. Just the right amount of give before I find muscles honed through a lifetime of work and athletics. I roll onto my back and let her lie on top so I can get a better grip. I squeeze and savor what I swear will be the last time I grope her. My hooves are all over her, and she finally breaks the kiss and smiles. I try to get out that I’m not in control, but all I get is

“Rainbow- it’s not.”

She kisses my chest, and trails down between my legs.

“I know. Just this once. One last time, right?”

She looks up at me with that dogged, determined smile I’ve always loved about her.

“S’ok! Just gimme this one last time. But if you ever wanna... Just know I’m around, huh?”

I try to tell her it won’t be necessary. I try to tell her to stop. But as her tongue slips inside me, all that comes out of my mouth are the moans of a guilty mare whose final walls have crumbled. I grip her mane and shove her harder between my legs. She slurps and licks more messily and more enthusiastically than she ever has in our lovemaking. It’s the last attempt to win me back in her heart, and nothing I can say will stop her from thinking that way... and instead of trying, I just spread my legs wider and let her do it.

I let her eat me out until I’m begging her to never stop, and she’s smiling through licks and kisses. I reach down and rub at my clit, but she moves my hoof away and drops her mouth onto it, licking and suckling at my aching marehood. Normally I like it treated a little more gently, but... the direct stimulation feels like a punishment. It just feels too good, it’s powerful and strong and body rocking. I move to stop her, to push her away. I need breath, I haven’t been able to get more than a gulp of air whenever she stops licking to catch her breath. As I try to stop her, her hooves grip mine like iron and drop them to my teats.

I can feel them under my coat, soft and flush against my body. My nipples have gotten hard as she’s played with me, but now she’s tracing circles around them with my hooves held in hers. When I start doing it on my own, she lets go and starts to fondle my haunches.

They’re not as firm as hers, and I blush as she squeezes them. I don’t get as much exercise, and they’re soft and squishy in her hooves. I can feel her kneading them as she moans into my soaked snatch. I lift up a bit so that she can fondle them better, suddenly self conscious. She’s never obsessed over my bottom and my nipples this much... only ever played with them as she would any other part of my body. If anything, my horn’s always been her attention.

“You... Having fun down there?”

I barely manage to pant it out, but she stops licking and looks up. At the cessation of pleasure, I shove her face back down.

“Not yet... just a little more!”

I’m close, and I can feel it. She keeps squeezing my butt as she continues to suckle at my clit. She’s far more aggressive than she’s ever been, and I decide to let her have it.

“Spank my ass! C’mon Rainbow, get rough!”

She licks with renewed vigour and swats my bottom. It stings, and I let a moan past my lips. Despite the lack of firmness, I know I’ve got a plentiful set of flanks. I can feel them shake with each harsh slap, and the sensation all melts together as she drops her tongue back inside me and uses her spare hoof to rub furiously at my clit.

I cum twice, and the orgasms are very close together. It takes entire minutes to compose myself as my body shakes and tries to wriggle free of her continued rubbing and licking. Her hooves are like vices the entire time, and I roll and thrash around in her grip with swears and shouts that would make a sailor pony blush. When she’s satisfied, I sit up and look at her through a haze of hormones. She’s scorched, flushed, and still looks like hell. I ease her onto her back and pin her hooves down.

“You slapped the...Royal...”

I try to get into character, but she’s smiling like an idiot. She’s just so desperate for this “last time”... She’d let me have a hundred last times and never say a word.

I sit up. She’s so co-dependent, I just can’t take advantage of her and dominate her. I shouldn’t even have done this- it’s wrong. The smile fades from her face, and I realize she’s caught on.

“Twi-”

“Rainbow... I’m sorry.”

“Hey... it’s ok.”

“This is all... I should never have-”

“You’ve got needs. It’s alright. So what? It doesn’t matter!”

I get to my hooves shakily. She's given me such an orgasm that standing leaves my head swimming and my steps uncertain

“There’s a townhall meeting at the start of the month. Two weeks. We need to sort out some things there for the mayor... I think it’s best if we just... call the Library an accident, magic practice.”

I look at the wound I’m trying to sweep under the rug so that I’m not run out of Ponyville as dangerous. I know just by looking at her that I could have hurt her far worse, and she’d never tell a soul. Because of her feelings for me, or because that's just the kind of pony she is? The difference matters more than I ever thought it would.

“But... I think you’ll be fine. That'll heal up nicely now.”

I try to cover all the bases for the other things I came here for, but they’re flying out of my head as I look at her on her back, blushing.

“Hey... It’s ok.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take advantage of you-”

“I’m telling you, it doesn’t matter!”

I turn to leave.

“Twi! Hey! Don’t beat yourself up over it! I’m over it! It doesn’t matter!”

I close the door to her home behind me, shutting out her voice. I slump down on the other side of it, trying to shut out those words.

Doesn’t matter? Of course it matters. I can’t keep my hooves off her. I have to live with her for the rest of my life, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting her now that I know what having her is like. Every time I slip up, every time I can’t keep my hooves off her, I’m ruining a part of her, and she’ll never care about herself, because she thinks she loves me.

How can that not matter?