You place the perfectly cut diamond inside of a broach onto the work table. The glistening, deep purple contrasts sharply with the golden surround of the jewelry that you’ve painstakingly put together. The gold that was melted and shaped to make your lithe and whimsically shaped project come to life reminds you about all the burns and cuts you gave yourself learning your trade for jewelry making while in Equestria. It has all culminated into this one workpiece that serves as your contemporary magnum opus.

The magical tools used to cut the diamond were a serious project to learn in itself, but adding that to your repertoire is just another ability for you to help Carousel Boutique stay in business, and it should serve as one more reason for Rarity to keep you as her Coltfriend. Besides, most colts were looked at as “wagon pullers” according to the average, chauvinistic mare, so you stood out even more.

Working for Rarity as her assistant both enforced and encouraged you to advance yourself to use your creativity and translate it into an artful money maker. Meanwhile, it impressed the unicorn, and made it explicit that you weren’t a brute, but instead, a deeper cut gentleman. Using your hands made you a shoe-in for helping the business since other places were really reluctant to hire you. You really lucked out by scoring a good job and a beautiful mare by deciding to help out around here. These factors helped you into an interspecies partnership with Rarity, making you the awkward couple in town.

For a year now, you and Rarity have really hit it off in your relationship, and she has let you stay with her as an assistant for all her dress-making needs inside of her abode. There’s the obvious benefits too of having a hot mare to please, but, for now, your focus is upon the gift you’ve worked on.

The broach should hopefully serve her well, as it’s your present for her birthday. She’s quite the workaholic sometimes, so she went out to get some fabric for a client even though today marks her being a year older. The current plan is to just chill out in the boutique once she’s done, leaving you with a perfect opportunity to surprise her, even though she’ll be expecting something, she won’t be expecting a gift so ornate and thoughtful.

You take a jewelry box that has an outside of black felt, and you drop the piece you’ve made inside of it. Taking it downstairs with you for Rarity’s return, you decide to wait for her in the front where the fainting couch is. Preemptively, you had already made the whole place spotless, and there’s two glasses of champagne waiting on the table that you pulled over to where you’ll both sit. The expensive bottle you bought from Berry Punch’s private collection is sitting next to the glasses too. Also, you have a black suit on that Rarity designed for you. Naturally, it's one of her favorites.

The giddy anticipation of what you’ll do tonight has you feeling a childlike spark of excitement. Everything has been going in motion perfectly, so there’s no way that passion and exuberance for each other won’t be shared in both formal and carnal means. You sit and wait still, making sure to stay in position. It takes a while but the door finally swings open, noted by the chiming of the bell.

Rarity makes her presence known to you, “Anonymous,” she sings out to the room with. You get up to help her unload the fabric from her saddle bags. “There you are…,” your beautiful mare notices you. Now that you’ve closed your distance, you hug her by bringing her forelegs upward to around your waist and leaning over. It’s awe inspiring to feel the reality that such a high class mare holds you so special in her heart. It’s not just a formality to the two of you. You break the hug after a few seconds. “Oh, what’s this?” Rarity notices the little setup once she’s back on all fours.

“Champagne from Canterlot’s finest vineyard, of course,” you give her the rundown of what you’ve bought in a half joking manner, attempting to be a self-aware butler type of character in jest. Rarity rolls her eyes at you.

“Please, help me with my saddle bags,” she asks of you, “that trip was a lot of trotting, my dear.” You’d never be one to leave the mare unassisted. The rolls are easy to organize onto the fashion pedestal. You both go to the couch where you were just minutes ago. The black, felt box containing your broach is hidden under one of the pillows. She sits next to you, surveying the golden liquid in the glasses.

“Oh my,” Rarity is impressed with your choice of drink, “You really weren’t kidding about this. It looks divine, darling.” She floats it to herself. Once you’ve gotten your own glass in your hand, you both ready yourselves to experimentally taste it. You hold her hoof to speak.

“To the mare I owe everything to,” you say and clink your glass against hers in its magical field of blue. “Happy Birthday, Rarity.” Rarity closes her eyes and shrugs one shoulder at your praise. You both sip the drink in celebration.

It really is true, though. There wouldn’t be much for you in this world if it weren’t for her. She’s been so accepting and so kind. Sharing her life with you and opening a world of possibilities by seeing the tact you had hidden in you for artful design.

“Anonymous, you old charmer,” she states, “you don’t owe me.” Rarity lets her eyes blink rapidly a few times and snuggles you. It’s hard for her to hide the wonder that she feels when being spoiled. Leaning back on the couch with her, your arm is wrapped around her waist. You can feel her breathing, making your heart warmer as the seconds pass. You reach for the black box with your left hand. You mash the pillow that is partly supporting your back to yank it free from your body weight to let the box be shown.

Not being able to hold the surprise longer, you start to address her, “Rarity, I wanted to say that I love you, and I’d do anything for you, so please take this.” Telling her the truthful way that you feel, you present the offering to her. Rarity looks you in the eyes then back to the box. She sits up and faces you to take it. It’s captured by her magic. Her hoof goes to her chest as she anticipates what’s inside. It opens and the mane-matching purple diamond is revealed, residing in its spindly, golden surround that you melted and cut together for many nights. Rarity says nothing. You just stare at her staring at what you’ve made. Her mouth is agape and her eye twitches. She’s able to float the thing out and display it on its own after a minute.

“I wanted to make something that could match your beautiful mane,” you say to explain your passion, but also coax out some sort of verbal reaction from her as she’s still said nothing. You still are waiting for her to do something besides just look at it with her mouth open while glancing back at you rapidly.

The broach is floated with care to the box on the table. Rarity breathes heavily inward and shuts her eyes, maybe to lecture you, or maybe it's to announce her general disappointment.

“If you don’t like it, that’s okay,” you are starting to feel defensive. Rarity smiles just then. Her eyes open, and she pounces on you like a predatory cat. You are pinned back and are peppered with kisses all over your face. That familiar growling voice of Rarity projecting that she’s on cloud nine signals that you’ve done well.

“I love it, my dear!” she gets out between kisses. They continue on your forehead, cheeks, and finally, on your lips. “Mwah, Mwah, Mwah…” The assault continues.

“Alright, Alright,” you protest the deluge of love being so overwhelming. She reluctantly sits back up on her haunches. You come back to your seated position.

“Anonymous, this is absolutely the most delightful thing that anypony has ever given me,” She says with a tear in her eye, “You don’t have to spoil me like this.” The sense of pride you have is coupled with the feeling of deep love. The white unicorn is so lovely she deserves to be spoiled as such.

“Rarity, I’d do anything for you, and I’ll do my best to spoil you too,” is what you respond with to her shock. You really mean it. Rarity sits with you for a while. You discuss the past week’s happenings and go over what your future will look like while staying together. All the while, you are in each other’s embrace. The champagne gets the two of you buzzed just enough to allow those funny questions that couples ask each other. Each of your inhibitions are knocked down by only a modicum. This still leads Rarity to ask silly things about if you’d still love her if she was a dragon or a kirin instead. Obviously, you say yes to all that she asks.

“Yeah, but would you still love me if I wasn’t a human?” your question is a joke for the most part to parody the things she asks, but something in you is curious about how she feels about your differences. Rarity looks up at you.

“Of course I would, but what creature are you meaning?” Rarity asks you.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly, “just a regular old stallion, maybe.”

Rarity ponders this, “Yes, yes, but I would miss your hands.” That statement sounds oddly sexual to you. Maybe those massages you give really are that good.

“There’s plenty more where that comes from,” you say and stroke her mane all the way down the curl at the end. She gives a single laugh. Rarity’s body and head rub against you in pure comfort. The mood has suddenly switched on a bit. Earlier, it was love and celebration, now it’s sexual tension. You stroke her mane a few more times, being careful to not potentially ruin things by getting too into it. You stop doing the stroking of her mane and rub around her ears. Warm fuzz is complimented by the cute twitching and flicking of her pony ears. The sensations make you reminded of how lucky you are to have her. The fact that she’s willing to let you pleasure her in a mostly innocent way now is weighted by the wildness that she’s effectively a super model in terms of looks. Rarity giggles. The areas around her ears are quite ticklish.

“Hmm,” she sighs, contently leaning upon your chest and side. The ministrations do their work of making her a pleased mare. The erogenous zone of her pony ears are a lovely way for her to feel appreciated without feeling all so depraved. You continue for a few minutes, but not before Rarity finds the need to speak. “Anon,” she grabs your attention.

“Yes,” you are at her command. Rarity gets up from you. Her face is serious. One of her hooves is pressing lightly on your right arm. She seems to lose the willingness to share the thought all of a sudden as she sinks a little. She sits back and stares into the distance. “Rarity, is something wrong?”

“No, dear, just forget the thing,” she attempts to brush it off.

“Rarity, I know that face. You know… the one you made just now,” you interrogate her politely, “there’s something bothering you, and I can tell.” You are genuinely concerned about the intrusion of her not being willing to share what’s so troubling. Rarity looks at you then down at the floor in unease. She clears her throat in anticipation of what she’s going to explain.

“Anonymous, I know you said you’d do anything for me, but please, if I ask this…,” Rarity is explaining, and it makes the realization to you that there’s something serious afoot, “please do not be offended, or I… well, what I mean to say is.” Your face has lost its jovial expression, and you are looking at her wide-eyed. Perhaps it’s adding to her anxiety of getting out what she has to ask you. “If you don’t like what I’m going to ask you, then can we just forget it all together? I don’t want it to affect what we have.” Whatever this question she has for you is, it must be a doozy. She works up the courage to look you in the eyes again.

“Anon, I want you… I want you to…” Rarity attempts again to get it out, but she yelps in frustration at her own inability to flesh things out.

You reassure her, “Rarity, whatever it is, you can tell me.” That statement makes some butterflies go about in your stomach. You're feeding off her stress that’s suddenly happening. Rarity stamps one hoof into the couch cushion and closes her eyes to get out what she finally wants from you.

“Anon, I want you to help me live out a fantasy I’ve had,” Rarity explains, looking at you again. “I know it’s taboo, but, none the matter.” Rarity now has some newfound courage, or just enough to explain things at least. “I want you…”, Rarity has another break, not letting her sentence get finished. You get a little frustrated at the stalling. One last time, Rarity breathes inward, “I want you to touch my horn.” Rarity trails off at the end and finishes with a shaky voice.

She buries her face in her hooves in shame. Rarity’s fantasy has you confused at first. You observe the mare hiding her face. The parts of her face not hidden by her hooves are bright crimson.

“Touch your horn?” you ask her. Rarity stays completely silent. She chooses to bob her head up and down in shame to signal you have it right. You squint your eyes in thought at the realization of what she asked you. Your hand goes to her shoulder. You pat her a couple of times.

“Rarity,” you say her name as she peers out from her hooves, not unlike Fluttershy’s occasional actions. “I’m not upset by that,” you explain in an urgent way for her to stop being so flustered and shy. You hate seeing her in such a vulnerable way.

“You aren’t, Anon?” Rarity asks in disbelief. You shake your head. She finally uses her hooves to steady herself instead of hiding. She turns her head to you, and your brain instantly takes more notice of her horn, now that she’s mentioned it. You aren’t really sure how to proceed from here. An awkward silence falls on the two of you. You attempt to make things move along with grace.

“Rarity, I have no problem with that, and how come it’s such a hard thing for you to ask?” you interject into the silence, “or- sorry, I’m just not familiar with this stuff. We’ve done other things before that are...different.” You are keeping your hand on her shoulder to ensure that she’s getting at least some comfort. She smiles, but it's twisted still from her self-awareness in wanting such a lewd act to be performed by you.

“Touching a mare’s horn is seen by stallions as a very taboo act,” Rarity explains with all the composure she can muster, “some mares use it as a sort of power move. I don’t want it to be such a thing.” Rarity attempts to make sure you’re not led the wrong way on this.

You think about what she’s saying. It would appear that the only way a stallion would do such a thing is if he really trusted and loved a mare, allowing her to use him as the means to pleasure the most erogenous area on a unicorn mare’s body. It’s like the ultimate test of love and passion for an Equestrian couple in a certain way. You bite your lip. The idea of it is kind of thrilling to please her like that. You slowly reach your hand out. Rarity’s chest expands in anticipation at your nearing digits.

“May I?” you ask her to grant you access, knowing she’ll say yes. Rarity nods just once. Your hand makes its way above her head and closer to her horn. You're aiming just above the center of the shaft. You watch as her eyes follow what you’re doing with intense nervousness. Rarity’s cheeks are lighting up red again as you very slowly work your way to her most pleasurable area.

Rarity gasps as your middle finger tip barely grazes the spiraling extrusion on her head. Your index and ring finger make contact too. Her pupils are tiny while watching. You trace your fingers down and go to the base where her forehead meets her horn.

Rarity whispers your name as you halt at the base. The single stroke made her lose all focus on anything else going on. Your thumb is introduced. Rarity breathes outward with a short and heavy exhalation. You grip the white horn with all your fingers on your right hand and gently rub your thumb at the base. Rarity is crossed-eyed looking up at your hand. You trail upward again and feel the spiral of her lovely pleasure center. The tip of her horn is caressed by you after you’ve made it all the way to the top.

You innocently ask, “Am I doing alright?” Not sure exactly how a horn is supposed to be touched in the first place. You’re just winging it after all.

“Oh, dear,” Rarity seems to be reacting to your touch instead of your question, “please keep going.” There’s not intensity but passion in your touch. Your hand just gently rubs the mare’s appendage slowly and lovingly. You start to see the vague outline of Rarity’s magic. Her horn is starting to slowly come alive with her being caressed. You continue on her with many gentle grazes to test out what she may find pleasurable. Maybe you should test out something to further your exploration? An idea pops into your head. You act upon it, hoping that it’s not too rough.

You grip the horn with your hand fully now. The palm of your hand is making even more contact with her horn. You effectively start to jerk her off. Rarity yelps at the increase of horn stimulation. Top to bottom, the stroking continues. Doing this has you blushing just like Rarity has been doing so far. What a bizarre way to make a mare horny.

“Anon!” Rarity is taken aback by your actions. You have no fear of being seen as slutty considering you have no attachments to Equestrian societal standards for stallions. This seems so fun to already make her writhe in audible lust.

You decide that you will take things up a notch. Even though you love being able to see her reactions, you decide to blind yourself from them for only a moment, and you lean in, closing your eyes to kiss her horn while your horn-gripping hand opens to give access to the shaft. Kissing her makes her moan loudly. You peck at it more. The reactions you are getting are driving you to further lose yourself in pleasuring her. The feeling of a thin layer of soft felt is what you swear you can feel on your lips while you kiss it. Rarity is getting more excited judging by the way that her horn’s magic is now more opaque.

Going back to just stroking again you watch the blue magic start to chime and audibly sparkle in brilliant magical waves around the close proximity of her horn. The magic is making your hand tingle like it’s asleep. Rarity’s eyes are half lidded and they are starting to roll up in her head.

“Hnng,” Rarity grunts and groans that you might just make her cum from stroking. Is that possible, though? You’ve never done this before, but you figure there must be some sort of brilliant climax. You feel yourself getting hard. Entangling yourself with her is what must be done to see how far this can go. It’s a sexual experiment all to the satisfaction of your perfect lover, and taking her to that blastoff point is what has to happen if you are to fully appreciate her.

You bring Rarity against you and lean back. Her hooves wrap themselves around you. Cooing makes up the continuous noises she’s proliferating. The horn is now very close to your face. Her eyes are totally closed against you. The magical field asserts itself to your hand again. You remove it to think.

Another lecherous idea enters your mind. The horn in front of you is daunting to consider fully entering your mouth. What if she jolts, and you wind up stabbed? Maybe you should just start with a lick before entering into the most lewd of actions.

Your tongue extends out, and touches the base. The feeling of static and the taste of sweet vanilla faintly glance over your olfactory nerves. Your tongue wetly laps a firm lick to the unicorn horn.

“Sweet Celestia!” Rarity yells at your torso. Apparently, you’re doing quite well for your first hornjob. Licking the horn is easy but so fun and rewarding. There’s a couple of crackles that happen as you rapidly lick her a few times. Her magic is becoming more uncontrolled by the second. If this is what your tongue alone can do then what about your full mouth?

Eyeing it, you inhale deeply and decide to go for broke. Your mouth goes down on the tip of her horn. Suckling on it makes you feel more of the electrical buzz on your tastebuds. It’s akin to the carbonation of the champagne you just sipped. You sink your head down and take more of her horn into your mouth. During this, the smell of excited mare is wafting at your nose.

There’s no turning back as you take more of the horn in your mouth. Sucking on it makes delightful squealing noises come out of Rarity. You start to bob your head up and down more. You release her for a second to get some oxygen. Her horn glistens from your saliva.

“I’m so close,” she begs you to continue. You oblige by going down and sucking on the horn with more fervor. You go until you run out of breath again. The horn pops out of your mouth by the means of a sloppy popping noise. “Bucking Celestia,” the mare moans out. You spit on the horn to lubricate it. Feeling that she’s getting really close you decide to finish her off.

You go down and swirl around the spiral with your tongue as you let the horn go as deeply into your throat as possible. You feel your gag reflex enact. You pull it out and go for it again. There’s no way you’d fit the whole thing in your mouth, but you still try with a futile yet loving attempt at blowing her to the base.

The horn keeps buzzing its magic on your tongue. The white fur around her horn is coated from your spit. Letting your sloppy style of sucking get her bedraggled in hornjob juices is the byproduct of making her feel so wondrous.

“I’m gonna cum,” Rarity says between moans. Her cadence of speaking sounds like she’s shocked. It’s probably rocking her brain in ten different ways to have a sensitive part of her get touched and eaten, especially when it’s not something most stallions would even consider.

Going down with your whole mouth one more time, you feel something more intense on your tongue. There’s a warm spark of something that hits your throat. You pull off of her. Your hand grabs the horn, and you jerk in short strokes with intensity.

Rarity’s tongue is lolling totally out of her mouth now that you’ve pulled away. The fast jerk seems to finish the mare once and for all. There’s popping sounds like a crackling fountain which accompany her sizzling magic on her horn. Your hand feels the hot energy emanating from it.

She gives one final, exacerbated, scream of lust as her horngasm makes her psyche disintegrate in an explosion fueled by magic and taboo.

“AnoooOOOooon,” her voice quivers and changes pitch as she rides out the feelings. Your hand stroking the horn allows for it to shoot out a jet of blue sparks that ricochet off the ceiling and walls in a prismatic display. Each ember that hits something bounces across the room before dissipating into thin air. A few particularly hot sparks go out and deflect from your hand. They impact your face, startling you. It doesn’t hurt or anything. There’s just the tingling you felt before. You keep pumping on her until the flow stops.

She starts slumping down, groaning a few times like she’s spent. You give a couple final rubs and let her head collapse into your chest once more. You hold her. The two of you are still breathing heavily. You kiss the top of her head. She responds by squeezing you tight.

“How was it?” you ask the mare that is hardly conscious. Rarity needs a few minutes to get her bearings straight. She says nothing for a good amount of time.

She finally comes to, “That was- that was amazing.” The expanding and contracting barrel of her is against your stomach. Your pant leg has been made wet with her arousal down below. This is just the beginning of the night so far, and you’ve already done an act you’ll never forget.

Even though what you’ve done is so unmistakably deviant, none of the social norms or stigma brought about by sexism mean a single thing to you. You’ll make Rarity feel good in whatever way she desires. It’s the least you can do for such a mare.

“Should we, uh, go up stairs to your bed?” you ask. Rarity reacts by looking up at you and smirking. She forces her hot mouth onto your and sticks her tongue inside you. The pony tongue mashes itself on your own and grinds on the roof of your mouth. She sucks a little as she backs away from the kiss, your bottom lip getting pulled along briefly. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes, searching for the next more the two of you will make.

Rarity warns you, “just be prepared, Anon. You’ll be using your tongue more tonight.”