Clerical's Hearth Warming Adventure


                                            >This... this is not good. Partly because you know you're going to stain Aster's couch and partly because you're Clerical Task.

                                            >Nothing like this can ever end well for you.

                                            >Leather Kirin Mares was fine! Really it was!

                                            >It was just comedic enough that you weren’t too taken with all the sauciness on the screen.

                                            >Which was fine! You weren’t disappointed at all that it wasn’t basically softcore pornography that your new friend had decided to lead in with.

                                            >In to what?

                                            >That’s exactly what’s causing you to worry so incessantly about the couch fabric.

                                            >It Came From the Everfree was much more straight-up horror and while okay, some of the special effects kind of take you out of it, the scares are absolutely genuine.

                                            >More than once you’ve found yourself clinging for dear life onto Aster’s foreleg, until it came to the point where she just put it around you and started holding you against her body.

                                            >The blanket, too, did nothing to help. Your mind kept insisting that this was basically the same as having hopped into bed with her, so naturally your body decided to do its thing when you began thinking about hopping into bed with beautiful mares.

                                            >Which is to say, it starts forcing you to conjure up images of Aster slipping her hoof a little further down your body until it snakes between your hind legs.

                                            >Or she suggests you sit in her lap, so she can put her hooves around you and keep you safe.

                                            >Or she pins you to the couch and shows you that the only XL Stud you ever need is swinging between her hips!

                                            >She knows what you’re thinking - that’s the thought that immediately overrides all else as you slowly, surreptitiously turn your eyes back and towards the mare beside you.

                                            >The mare who continues watching the TV and how it shifts between images of terrifying monsters and terrifyingly poor editing and acting.

                                            >”Aaaaahhh!”

                                            >It’s not that you’re so afraid, it’s not!

                                            >It’s the shock of the mare screaming onscreen that makes you reflexively bury your face into Aster’s chest.

                                            >Just as you’re sure it’s a reaction of hers that makes Aster put her other hoof around you and hold you there.

                                            >Against her warm, slightly sweet-smelling chest separated from your face only by her sweater.

                                            >Which is actually a good thing because you might otherwise be moaning loudly enough for her to hear you.

                                            >”Clery?”

                                            >Shit. Were you moaning that loudly?

                                            >Hey, it’s not your fault! You happened to find a button on this part of the couch and rubbed yourself against it and—

                                            >”You okay?”

                                            >Not okay enough that you can pull your reddened face out of her chest, no.

                                            “Mmhm.”

                                            >Okay enough that you can pretend you’re still scared of only the movie with a nod of your head that rubs it against Aster’s chest and stirs up more of her warm, feminine scent.

                                            >Your ears pin back, you rock your hips a little against the couch, and you have to bite firmly on your lip to avoid making more noise.

                                            >Stupid scary monster! Stupid wonderful, perfect, sexy Aster!

                                            >”We don’t have to keep watching if it’s too much.”

                                            >You forgot ‘thoughtful’.

                                            >And thoughtful enough that she doesn’t try to push you away or remove her hooves to give you a subtle message.

                                            >But you still can’t, as much as you might otherwise like to, remain here all night.

                                            >Facing the monster is one thing, facing Aster’s judgement for your shameful perversity is another.

                                            >But you came out of the flower shop incident unscathed, even if Aster took the blame for it.

                                            >So… maybe… you’ll be okay?

                                            >You decide on it and somehow manage to pull your face away from the most wonderful pillowy place in Equestria.

                                            >Your nose is all scrunched up and ears still back, you struggle to get your tail down to cover yourself against the couch and try to keep your guilty eyes from meeting Aster’s.

                                            “S-Sorry about that.” Okay, you can do this! Just… play it off as if you’re scared of what’s on the TV. “It’s been a while since I watched any horror movies.”

                                            >Aster gives you a little squeeze and you’re suddenly very glad that your hooves are up against her and not anywhere they could move unseen under the blanket.

                                            >”I’m sorry too, Clery. It Came From the Everfree isn’t that bad once you’re used to it but even I was scared the first time.”

                                            >You doubt that but if she’s being kind enough to soothe your ego, that just further proves the kind of friend she is.

                                            >”Not that I’m upset about this.”

                                            >Aster punctuates her statement by giving you a light squeeze.

                                            >Okay, yeah, you could definitely get used to being squeezed by her.

                                            >Especially if her hooves were a little lower, say about the same position as your rump and you just happened to be lying on top of her and oh, haha! There you go again!

                                            >Stop spoiling these little moments, Clerical, and just enjoy something sweet and innocent!

                                            “W-Well, if you really don’t mind, then—”

                                            >That’s about as far as you get before you realise two important things: the first is that while Aster probably wouldn’t really mind if you put your hoof on her thigh to push yourself back a little to move into a more comfortable position, you should be more careful.

                                            >The second is that you should be more careful… because your hoof just brushed against something!

                                            >Oh, sweet Celestia, she probably thinks you’re some kind of hideous perv, now! Shamelessly copping a feel of her teats, o-or even trying to sneak your hoof down lower to… You don’t even want to think it!

                                            >All of that rushes through your head in the second it takes for you to violently yank your hoof back, hard enough to lift the blanket clean off the two of you.

                                            >Your mouth hangs agape, ready to stammer out a profuse apology.

                                            >No sound emerges, however, because you can’t keep your eyes off what the blanket was concealing.

                                            >It’s not a big, fat pair of teats as you thought—and secretly hoped—or rather, it’s not just a pair of regularly-sized ones.

                                            >It’s not something you actually expected to see at all, let alone tonight.

                                            >And why?

                                            >Why… is… Aster’s…

                                            >Are you actually going to admit this to yourself?

                                            >You’ve seen enough (in pictures and photos) to know what it is.

                                            >It’s the light pink tip of a… a penis, poking up from between Aster’s thighs.

                                            >Not at the fore of your mind are questions like, “why does Aster have a cock?” or “is she secretly a stallion?” but rather, “why is she aroused?”

                                            >You’re the pervert here! You can’t keep it under your tail!

                                            >Getting all hot and bothered just because this lovely mare was holding you like you always wished you’d be.

                                            >This lovely mare who’s now become only lovelier with this new knowledge.

                                            >”C-Clery?”

                                            >And what a lovely…

                                            >But it’s not lovely, is it?

                                            >That look of abject terror on Aster’s face is about the furthest thing from ‘lovely’ you can imagine.

                                            >”I-I can explain.”

                                            >It’s matched only by the quietness of her voice and the quaver to it.

                                            >With that, you realise you’ve been staring down with your mouth open.

                                            >Looking like you’re about to slam your face between her legs, as you see it, but it probably looks different to her.

                                            >So now Aster sits there, tapping her hooves together and looking accusingly down at herself.

                                            “Aster?”

                                            >You scooch back over closer when she looks back up at you and your heart sinks when she reflexively tries to move back.

                                            “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.”

                                            >And why should she, huh?

                                            >You might possibly maybe have caught a peek under her tail earlier and so you knew she has the bits that a mare has.

                                            >Now you’ve just found out she also has other bits that not many other mares have.

                                            >Bits that every mare should have!

                                            >Wouldn’t Equestria be so much better if there were more dicks for you— you mean, more dicks to go around for anypony who likes them?

                                            >”But you… You didn’t know that I… And we…”

                                            >She’s still tapping her hooves together but as she talks, she starts rubbing them.

                                            >You’re not really used to being the one who’s not freaking out and sure you’ve done something horribly, terribly wrong.

                                            >Is that what you look like? Almost frozen in fear?

                                            >Well you know exactly what to do because it’s exactly what Aster’s done all evening.

                                            >You reach out, while Aster’s still looking at you, and tenderly take one of her hooves in your own.

                                            >She jumps but there’s nowhere left on the couch to go and you quickly bring your other hoof over to hold hers.

                                            “It’s okay.” You glance down at her thighs and try not to let your gaze linger there too long. “I-I really don’t mind it. In fact…” Again, you move a little closer, almost until your hind leg bumps against hers. “I… I like it.”

                                            >Especially if the damp trail you’re leaving as you move across the couch is any indication.

                                            >Because there’s something sitting right between Aster’s hind legs that you’d much rather dampen.

                                            >”You don’t have to say that.”

                                            >But it’s clear from the reddening of Aster’s cheeks that you’re on the right track.

                                            “Well, it’s true. I’m… kinda sorry I put down an XL Stud on my wishlist for that Secret Santa, now.” You try to laugh but Aster’s sudden gasp easily stops that. “S-Since I have my very own XL Mare right here.”

                                            >She opens her mouth.

                                            >And closes it.

                                            >Then Aster looks down to where you’re glad you can turn your eyes, too - down between her thighs.

                                            >She glances up and sees you looking down and that thing poking up between her hind legs twitches.

                                            >Which is unfair because that makes you squirm!

                                            >Because yes, okay, you might have thought a bit more than you’d like to admit about sitting in Aster’s lap, earlier this evening.

                                            >Much more innocently, even if you did get excited at the thought of her kissing your neck and ears and cheeks and… and then all over.

                                            >Now the thought comes back full force but this time you’re thinking of facing her, rocking your hips against hers, making her say your name and beg you to—

                                            >”Clery?”

                                            >To realise that you’re intently staring at her, grinding your hind legs together.

                                            >”Are you sure you’re okay?”

                                            “No, I-”

                                            >Want her to carry you into her bedroom and turn her bed into yours and her bed.

                                            >Want her to spend the rest of the night punching your v-card.

                                            >You want her to fill you with holiday cheer in the way you’ve always dreamed of!

                                            “I want this, Aster.”

                                            >You want to take the gamble, risk everything on what you’re sure has to be right.

                                            >Why else would Aster be as hard as a rock, holding your hooves, if she didn’t want this too?

                                            >So you move a little closer again, until you’re almost touching and this time she doesn’t try to move away from you.

                                            >”You don’t…”

                                            >But she’s looking into your eyes, she has to see it.

                                            >”Are you sure?”

                                            >Sure enough that you can give her hooves a little tug, just enough to start drawing her towards you and you towards her.

                                            >Enough to tilt your head and press your lips to Aster’s, and mentally cheer when she leans into you, in turn.

                                            >Enough, even, that you can take one of your hooves and put it to her chest.

                                            >Then slide it down.

                                            >Over her abdomen and stomach, heaving as she quickly realises what you’re doing.

                                            >Down a little more until you’re close enough to feel the heat of her member.

                                            >Until you brush the tip with your hoof and feel the mare you’re kissing jump.

                                            >And then moan quietly when you slide your hoof down along the shaft to her thighs.

                                            >It’s not something you expected or even thought of but Aster quickly starts shifting her hind legs apart.

                                            >Maybe it’s because she puts one of her own hooves to your chest, shaking slightly as she begins running it down along you.

                                            >That makes you shiver.

                                            >You’re not even consciously thinking about moving your hindlegs apart as you trace a line along Aster’s shaft and her hoof slips down and down to make you lean more into the kiss.

                                            >Your thoughts are more on running your hoof back up her cock, appreciating its length and the way it gently throbs.

                                            >This is it, isn’t it? You’ve found a pony who doesn’t just like you, she finds you attractive.

                                            >You excite her, you accept her, and she—Oh.

                                            >Oh goodness…

                                            >Aster’s hoof has just slipped low enough to touch a rather sensitive place of your own and if you’re not mistaken, there’s something so much better about another pony doing that.

                                            >Something that makes your whole body feel weak and prompts a desire to just… melt into Aster’s embrace.

                                            “Shit…”

                                            >You’re not back in your apartment, looking at naughty pictures on your computer alone, a part of you knows you shouldn’t be speaking like that in front of another pony.

                                            >But a larger part can’t help it - even just the lightest touch to the edge of your bare skin there, is enough to make you break the kiss and lean your head to one side of Aster’s.

                                            >You’re also not really sure what you’re doing, just like back outside her apartment, but Aster guides you over to lean against her with another hoof now on your back.

                                            >”It’s okay.”

                                            >Her voice is warm and comforting and you can’t help lifting your hoof from between her hind legs and slipping it around her neck, to join the first.

                                            >”T-Tell me if it’s too much.”

                                            >Because while one of her hooves is on your back, the other still holds its place under your tail.

                                            >At first, she doesn’t do much but hold it there.

                                            >You’re just as content to imagine it’s not her hoof and grind yourself back against it.

                                            >The thought drifts up that you could just as easily have done this for her and that she’s probably leaking as much on the couch as you were, maybe even wishing you were just as much an XL Mare to help her with that.

                                            >The thought makes you shudder.

                                            >”It’s okay, sweetie,” Aster whispers as you feel yourself trickling onto a hoof that strokes the edge of your lips, “I’ve got you.”

                                            >And you’re glad of it.

                                            >You’re glad that you feel… safe, here. With your friend who loves you.

                                            >That you love.

                                            “Nngh!”

                                            >Romance is your fetish.

                                            >Well, along with big mares and stallions and all that goes with them.

                                            >But right now? Right now, a pony you love is stroking you in a way you’d consigned yourself to doing yourself, before.

                                            >And you’d be happy to let her do this but that wouldn’t be fair to her.

                                            >Especially not as the mental image of Aster still erect under you bubbles up to the fore of your mind.

                                            “H-Hey Aster.”

                                            >You let your hind legs slide back on the couch, lowering yourself.

                                            “You don’t n-need a Honey Drip.”

                                            >You let yourself bump against Aster, her cock throbbing against the base of your stomach.

                                            “You… You already h-have one.”

                                            >”Clery?”

                                            >It’d be too difficult to reach back with your own hooves and holding onto Aster is a far better use for them, anyway.

                                            >And while it’s difficult to maintain your focus enough to light your horn and send your magic out, it’s important.

                                            >You just have to… wrap a little around her hooves… and…

                                            >There they go.

                                            >”W-What?”

                                            >Right onto your rump.

                                            >Now breathe, Clerical. Don’t let thoughts of Aster squeezing your buns consume your entire mind.

                                            “Mmph…”

                                            >A little difficult, seeing as she’s just opted to give them a little squeeze.

                                            >You may not be some bigshot Manehatten model but Aster can see you’ve still got a nice butt!

                                            >P-Perfectly shaped for sitting in her lap, in fact.

                                            “Okay.”

                                            >You hadn’t meant to even whisper that and hopefully Aster didn’t hear you.

                                            >Because you’ve reached a decision: no more second-guessing, no more convincing yourself you’re a perv undeserving of this mare; Aster wants this just as much as you do, you can tell her what you’d like.

                                            >And right now, what you’d like is to push yourself back up so that you’re kind of sitting in her lap.

                                            >Hooves on her chest, having to toss your thick mane aside to get a good look at her.

                                            >Cheeks flushed, chest heaving, hooves now on your hips, and… and her cock twitching between your hind legs.

                                            >The fact that you’re still dripping away onto her probably isn’t helping with that but in fairness, the way she throbs isn’t doing anything to stop you.

                                            “Aster?”

                                            >You’ve got her attention, rather than your body holding her gaze.

                                            “I want you to… t-to…”

                                            >Ho, mare! Deciding you want it and telling Aster what you want aren’t the same thing, are they?

                                            >But you can do this, girl, just do it!

                                            “I… I want you… to… f-fuck my brains out!”

                                            >That’s it!

                                            “Make me your mare! Breed me like I’m the last mare in Equestria!”

                                            >There you go!

                                            “Turn my rump pink! Make me wake up the neighbours!”

                                            >Okay, that’s a little—

                                            ”Put a collar on me and break it! Share me with Cloudy!”

                                            >Dial it back, girl.

                                            >Aster’s ears are pinned back and her eyes are wide.

                                            >Remember, what’s your biggest fetish?

                                            “O-Or just… m-make love to me?”

                                            >There you go. Now your ears are back - it’s easier to cry out that pervy stuff, not quite so easy to tell Aster what you really want, deep down, isn’t it?

                                            >But it puts a smile back on her face and a little flush in her cheeks.

                                            >And… a throb between your hind legs.

                                            >”I… can do that.”

                                            >Aster strokes your hips.

                                            >”I, um… I can’t think of another mare I’d like to.”

                                            >Oh…

                                            >Just for that, she’s getting a smooch!

                                            >Which means pushing your hooves back up her chest, over her shoulders and around her withers.

                                            >It means raising your rump and leaning your face down until your nose touches Aster’s, your breaths mingling and your eyes only for each other.

                                            >It does also mean her hooves are back at your rump, or at least one is.

                                            >The other- Oh!

                                            >She was manoeuvring herself around so that you can feel that hot, hard member resting against you.

                                            >What she doesn’t know is that the reason you suddenly lunge forward to kiss her is to stop yourself from just sitting back onto her.

                                            >Especially when you feel that warm wetness leaking from her tip, mixing with your own to trickle down your inner thigh.

                                            >Her hooves are back on your rump, however, helping to guide your hips as you slowly rock back against her.

                                            >You feel her lips and tongue, your own against them, the warmth of her body and the heat of her arousal, and it all becomes just a bit too much.

                                            >Your hind legs shudder and quite suddenly having to keep standing becomes too great of a chore.

                                            >The gentle pressure of Aster’s hooves on your butt and the way she moves them in lazy circles until she feels you start to lower yourself, is all the encouragement you need.

                                            >It almost feels like she’s not quite hitting her mark and so a little wiggling later, along with some help from a steadying hoof by Aster, you feel a pressure you hadn’t before.

                                            >Another pony’s penis pushing against you.

                                            “Shit…”

                                            >You don’t really care about breaking the kiss to say that, right now.

                                            >”Clery.”

                                            >You’ve had to slip your forelegs around the couch, to avoid squeezing Aster too tightly.

                                            >It’s a better use of your energy than just slamming your hips down on the mare below you, if only because you want to appreciate how this feels.

                                            >That warmth slowly pushing you open, the feeling of fullness your hoof stroking you could never satisfy, Aster’s hot breath washing against your face as she gasps with every movement of your body.

                                            >Your own breath hitches in your throat and then you just… stop for a moment as you realise you’re only about halfway down this mare.

                                            >Your legs tremble, your thighs quiver, and then it happens - you don’t quite thrust yourself down, it’s more that you lose the power to keep yourself going slow.

                                            “F-Fuck!”

                                            >”Celestia!”

                                            >Well, there’s one thing you know for sure now - Aster really is an XL Mare. At least she feels like it.

                                            >N-Not that you have the experience with anypony else to gauge her against… Not that you want that experience, now.

                                            >You know this is the only pony you need.

                                            >Her breath coming in short, quick gasps that almost match the rhythmic throbbing of her cock inside you.

                                            >You’ve slipped your hooves back around her and hold tight, trying to get your own ragged breathing under control and your mind to not fixate quite so much on this feeling of fullness.

                                            >It’s a struggle to even breathe, to think about anything other than the way you twitch and squeeze and sweet Celestia, how good it feels!

                                            >The way Aster holds onto you so securely, with one hoof still on your rump and the other at your back; how she so gently moves her hips against your own, not spoiling this moment; especially the way she looks at you.

                                            >You’ve never experienced another pony looking at you the way she does right now, desire and yes, love, clear in them. You only hope she sees the same in yours.

                                            >”You okay?”

                                            >Her whisper sounds so loud now that the world is reduced to just the two of you and this couch.

                                            >It’s partly because of that, that you nod and give your own quiet “mmhm,” to her question. The other part is how hard it is to focus on anything else but the pony inside you.

                                            >Even the slightest movement feels like it strains your body against her and you have to remind yourself to breathe, Clerical.

                                            >Maybe if you try to… not be so full, it’ll be easier.

                                            >Though there’s still the part of you that recoils in horror at the thought of giving any of this up, you know you can’t just stay here all night.

                                            >Maybe later, in bed, you can convince Aster to do that. Wouldn’t that be the most wonderful way to keep warm?

                                            >Your muscles twitch and you ache slightly as you pull your hind legs back up.

                                            >Aster’s hooves on you don’t firmly hold you in place, they really do feel like they’re supporting you, directing you at most.

                                            >But you look at her and she looks at you and both of you know what you’re doing and why it has to be done.

                                            >You know that, because the weight of Aster’s hoof on your rump lessens. It doesn’t do much to alleviate the difficulty in bringing your hind legs up and then planting them onto the couch.

                                            >This, now, is the difficult part; for both of you, you realise as you push with your hind legs and start to lift yourself.

                                            >Those hooves on you? They press down just enough for you to feel it and there’s the part of you that wants to obey them, to stay exactly where you are.

                                            >Close to her warmth and the tenderness of her body.

                                            >So rather than think of what you’re giving up, you focus on breathing and trying to keep it even. You try not to think too much of Aster’s little gasps and the way she says your name.

                                            >You try even more not to say hers.

                                            >”W-W-Wait!”

                                            >Wait? How can you?

                                            >Your legs shake with the effort of holding you up, your mind swims with the sensations that have built up under your tail and that tantalisingly beckon you back down.

                                            >Because… Because Aster is still inside you.

                                            >Not fully, not even close to that, but enough to feel it, just as she has to.

                                            “I can’t!”

                                            >Or rather, you don’t want to but you’re still sure your body won’t allow you to wait.

                                            >And those hooves, oh those hooves on you gently push you down.

                                            >Like she knows exactly what’s going on and no doubt because she wants it just as much, too.

                                            >Your mouth hangs open as your behind moves back down, Aster inching her way into you.

                                            “Umf!”

                                            >You don’t get your mouth closed soon enough before she ends it with a little thrust, hooves gripping you tightly as you grit your teeth and suck in air through them.

                                            >Of course your filthy mind immediately reminds you that there’s something else you’d much rather be sucking on right now.

                                            >Maybe later.

                                            >When you can make Aster squirm under her bedclothes and say your name just a bit louder, when you won’t have to worry about doing just the same.

                                            >Until… she inevitably wants to return the favour.

                                            >Having a gorgeous mare like this sticking her head under your tail?

                                            >Now that’s a thought which can wait until you’re finished here!

                                            >Not that it’s going to take long for you to finish, of course.

                                            >Celestia, it’s been all you can do not to make a complete foal of yourself by cumming after that last thrust.

                                            >But it’s not your fault! You’ve had… well, you’ve had quite a bit of time without another pony doing anything like this with you.

                                            >By which you mean you never had.

                                            >So you just need to show Aster you’re not a complete lightweight and you can, in fact, match her endurance.

                                            >You can easily grind your hips into hers because it’s not like you’re bouncing in her lap!

                                            >Hah! See? The only thing you feel is Aster throbbing and twitching inside you. Every movement of your hind legs makes her move against your body, stimulating you in a way you’re sure the venerable XL Stud would struggle to match…

                                            >Oh no, she’s started to rock her hips into you, as well!

                                            >”Oh, Clery…”

                                            >Hey, that’s not fair!

                                            >Nopony’s ever said your name like that before.

                                            >Just the thought that you could make Aster—lovely, sexy, sweet Aster—feel so good…

                                            >Your forelegs eagerly slide around her back and your hind legs take on a life of their own.

                                            >This isn’t far off what you imagined you’d do with your Stud.

                                            >Lying on your bed, thinking about the pony of your dreams.

                                            “A-Aster.”

                                            >Imagining holding onto her while you make her feel good and enjoy yourself while you’re at it.

                                            >Towel down on your bed, which by now would be soaked. Rather than poor Aster’s lap being similarly damp and probably her couch stained along with it.

                                            “Aster…”

                                            >With her lovely seafoam coat and her perfectly holdable body and her Luna-damned, rock-hard cock that’s hitting the right places and rubs you in just the right way!

                                            “Mmphmmph!”

                                            >Just like you’d put your face in your pillow to muffle your voice, you bury it in Aster’s chest so she can’t hear you.

                                            >”I-It’s okay, Clery.”

                                            >And it is, isn’t it?

                                            >She’s not making fun of you or demanding you do anything, she’s just holding you and rocking you in the same way you’re doing.

                                            >This wonderful pony who’s giving you what you’ve always wanted: some good old holiday dickings!

                                            “Mmph!”

                                            >Deeply inhaling and filling yourself with her scent is what does it, in the end.

                                            >Makes your hind legs squeeze her hips and your body tense up; that warmth and feeling of knotting up which has been building suddenly unwinding inside you as you mash your hips against Aster’s.

                                            >You hold her as tightly as she holds you, letting your shuddering breaths get swallowed up by her chest as your eyes flutter shut and you let your mind focus on these wonderful warm feelings.

                                            >They’re only heightened by the feeling of Aster still twitching inside you and the thoughts of what it must be like for her.

                                            >Your forelegs slide up and down her back and that pleasant tingling lingers as you start to move your body again.

                                            >Mmhm, you’re not alone tonight and you don’t have to dismiss your hoof’s desires.

                                            >With your head on her chest, you can feel Aster’s heartbeat - quick, hard, excited.

                                            >So you move your hind legs away from her and onto the couch, giving you just enough purchase to move.

                                            >You really do want to just stay here but she needs this.

                                            >So just do what you’ve been doing, right? She was enjoying that.

                                            >Slow, at first, letting yourself get back into the rhythm as much as making sure she doesn’t blow her load immediately.

                                            >And it’s difficult to concentrate with your head still swimming a little; the thoughts of making this mare fill you aren’t exactly doing anything to keep you calm.

                                            >But you’re at least able to lift yourself inch by slow inch, until you feel you’ve left about half of Aster’s member outside yourself.

                                            >Then… slightly less slowly, you lower yourself back down.

                                            >And again, her hooves press slightly at you to help you on your way.

                                            >”Oh, Clery.”

                                            >Your head’s been buried in her chest but now you turn to look up and see her own tilted back with her mouth open.

                                            >That’s it, Aster, just relax and let you do the work!

                                            >As difficult as it may be - pushing yourself back up takes more effort each time as you try not to think too deeply on how deep this mare gets in you.

                                            >Or just how easy it is now that you’ve amply, uh, helped her along with that.

                                            >Especially not how each time you lower your body down, Aster thrusts a bit harder.

                                            >Until she’s doing more of it than you are lifting and lowering yourself.

                                            >And each time it makes your bodies meet with a lurid smack that’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced in your own bedroom.

                                            >The noise of it, along with Aster’s gasps and grunts, warms you right up again.

                                            >It’s not long before she’s holding your rump with both hooves, tightly, pulling you down onto her each time she thrusts up to meet you.

                                            >”Clery, w-wait, I-”

                                            >But she doesn’t and neither do you.

                                            >You’re sure you know what it is, at least if the way she’s starting to flare is any indication.

                                            >That much, at least, you know.

                                            >Something else your Stud wouldn’t be able to do.

                                            >”O-Oh!”

                                            >It comes out in a gasp, Aster’s hips pressing into yours as her hooves press your rump down.

                                            >Again, you hold on tight but this time to make sure there’s nowhere and no way Aster can slip out of you and lose out on what must be the most incredible feeling if the way she gasps is any indication.

                                            >You feel her warmth spill inside you and the knowledge that yes, this is another pony and not some silicone simulacrum, makes you shudder.

                                            >This is all on you, Clerical, you’ve made this mare feel this good.

                                            >And sweet Celestia, you’ll make sure it’s not the last time!