You and Coco rise as one, moving with predatory grace to flank Twilight, sitting so close she can feel the heat radiating off you Your eyes burn into her, twin tempests of jealousy and primal claim, while Coco’s tail lashes like a whip, her breath sharp and seething Twilight blinks, confusion knitting her brow: “Uh… girls, is something wrong?” Then it hits her – the potent, unmistakable musk of your and Coco’s barely concealed desire, no longer fully masked by the lavender-rose perfume you’d drenched yourselves in Anon hadn’t caught it, too distracted, but Twilight’s alicorn senses lock onto it, and her face ignites a crimson so vivid it could rival a sunset “I-I-I’m so sorry!” she squeaks, wings flaring in panic as she scrambles to her hooves, knocking over a teacup in her haste She’s out the door faster than a Sonic Rainboom, a trail of mortified magic sparkles and stammered apologies in her wake: “I-I didn’t mean to—oh, Celestia, I’m so sorry!” You turn to Coco, who opens her mouth: “If she’d just caught our mood soon–” “Don’t,” you hiss, voice sharp as a blade but trembling with desperate need. “Bedroom. Now. Strip the sheets. I’m bringing Anon up.” All you crave – no, demand – is your stallion, your heart’s other half, to envelop you in his arms, to growl that he loves you, as he does in every stolen moment you three share Work, boutiques, the world itself can burn – you’re done letting anything rob you of this Brushing off the chaos, you rise, smoothing your mini-miniskirt with a trembling hoof, and stalk toward the kitchen Your tail sways in sync with your hips, each step a sultry vow as you close in on Anon – your anchor, your fire, your everything Submission is Magic, and you’re ready to drown in it, with Coco at your side and Anon claiming you both in a blaze of passion