> Be Celestia, living with your new husband > It's only been a month after you married Anon, an incredible month in which you explored each other to the fullest > Sharing secrets and secret places, filling the nights and dozing through lazy mornings > You grin at some of the more interesting memories > Those hands~ > You shake your head, and return to your little task > Making breakfast in bed for your cute husband > It may have been a few thousand years since you last had to cook for yourself, but it can't be that hard > The biscuits are baking in the oven as you start chopping peppers for the omelette > You hear footsteps down the stairs > Out of habit, you renew a certain cosmetic little glamour > Anon wanders over, dressed only in red boxers and black socks, rubbing at his sleepy eyes > So sexy, so cute > "Didn't know you could cook, Sunbeam. Smells tasty." > You resist the urge to smile, and lift your chin proudly "Although I am a mare, I still know my way around a kitchen. Now sit and wait for your food like a good little colt." > He grins, pulling up a stool across the counter from you > "Yes mistress, I'll watch in awe at your cooking prowess, and not because I'm worried about the food being burned." > Like a mature, sensible mare, you stick your tongue out at him > He chuckles, then leans his elbows on the counter > "Whatcha makin'?" > You glance at the hourglass over the oven > Just about done "Omelette and biscuits. Sound good, Green Bean?" > "Mmhmm." > You turn and open the oven, letting the heat wash over your body > The biscuits look pretty good, if you say so yourself > "Nice." > You glance over your shoulder > Anon is looking at - > You twitch your tail aside, then let it cover your marehood, smirking all the while > He licks his lips, his eyes filled with barely contained hunger > Hewantsthev.tapestry "Now now, we wouldn't want to ruin your appetite for breakfast, would we?" > You set baking sheet on the stone counter > While you are there, you set a skillet on a burner and get the flame going > After so many years as a monarch, you are finding the little domestic chores to be rather refreshing > A mere thought closes the oven door > You turn back to the cutting board and peel the skin off an onion with your magic > Anon stares at you fondly from across the cutting board > You see a twinkle in his eye, the fires of his lust banked for now > As you chop the vegetable you have a nagging feeling that you forgot about something > You glance around, but everything seems to be fine > You blink, your eyes beginning to sting > You back away from the cutting board, wings flared and ready to... > Anon looks at you with tears in his eyes > Your body shimmers oddly, your concentration shattered > "Why are you avoiding me?" "What? I'm not!" > You feel your own tears forming > You never like to see a stallion cry, but this is too sudden "Green Bean, tell me, what's wrong?" > He opens his mouth, then pauses > You wait, goodness knows you don't want to pressure an emotionally distraught stallion > "Sunflower, you do know cutting onions make people cry, right?" > Oh > You scowl at him and he grins > You love him and his whimsy, you do, but... "You scoundrel, it's been a millennia since I last cooked. And crying is playing dirty, dear." > He weaves his way around the counter, his hips shifting beguilingly > Ooh, and that bulge > That's right, come to Mama > "One other thing, babe." > He loops his arms loosely around your withers, gazing at you in wonder > "Have you always had those freckles?" > You instinctively try to back away, but his grip is too strong and he just ends up falling onto your tuft > You almost cast your glamour again, but the damage is done "...They're just sunspots." > Anon leans against you, his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones > "Celly. Tia. Sunbeambum. Babe. You have no idea how cute you look right now." > You scrunch a little "You don't have to force yourself, I know what I look like." > Anon gazes deep into your eyes, your skin prickling pleasantly as his fingers trace little constellations on your face > "Celestia Cake Solarina, if you won't believe my words, let me explain more simply." > He presses his pelvis up against you, the firm length of his stallionhood hot on your belly > Your breath hitches, and you dare to hope "You like my...freckles." > He bares his delectably sharp teeth, his fingers digging into your wing muscles > U-unf > "The one good thing about you hiding them is, " > His voice is low and growling, resonating exquisitely against you > "now I want to knock you up even harder." > Faust, you love this stallion > With a sweep of magic and a push from your haunches, you push him gently to the cold tile floor and press down on his squirming, firm body > You pin him with marely strength, exulting in his futile struggles for dominance "Silly Green Bean, I'm the mare here. But I'll accept every drop you have for me." > He relaxes underneath you, melting into your pressure, all save a very key part of him > "Fine, but next time I get to top." > Then he bites your neck, mingling pain, pleasure, and fear within you > You gasp and surge against him > It seems breakfast will just have to wait