Date Night Gone Right
Dear diary, today’s the big day. Or rather, tonight’s the big night. My date with Lyra and Bon Bon. Sweet Celestia I’m nervous. Sure, we’ve all been dating for about a year and three quarters now but still, this is the first really serious relationship I’ve ever been in.
My pulse is getting a bit thready as I write this and I’ve fumbled the quill twice since I started this entry, and I’m a unicorn for Luna’s sake! Telekinesis isn’t supposed to crap out like that! Still, I guess being this nervous is normal, or at least I hope it is. I don’t have any stallions I can go to for advice, Ponyville’s mare-to-stallion ratio is like eight to one, and I don’t know any of the other stallions well enough to ask for advice.
The only other males I know, like really know, not just on an exchanging pleasantries basis, are my gryphon buddies from college and they don’t form herds like ponies do so they think it’s weird. Hay, they take the whole monogamy thing to its ‘logical’ extreme: if a gryphon cheats on their partner and it’s proven in court, they’re executed. How bucked up is that? Anyway, I can’t go to them for advice about anything romantic or sexual. In fact I’m pretty sure they have cloacas instead of… you know what, never mind, I don’t want to continue that line of thought.
I’ve never been part of a herd before and I really want to do this right. If this falls apart because of me I…hay, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust myself enough to give it another try. Lyra and Bon Bon aren’t much help in that department unfortunately. Oh, they mean well, and they’re wonderful ponies, I wouldn’t be dating them otherwise, but they’ve been together for years and knowing that I’m trotting into a relationship with that much history is…intimidating.
Faust, I haven’t been this jittery since I turned in my Capstone Potion. I’m actually tempted to have a shot of cider just so my hooves don’t rattle on the cobblestones when we go to Horte’s.
Honesty dictates I admit I’m excited too, though. I never got any attention from the mares back in Canterlot, though
that’s probably because everypony there knows about my family. Still, as stupid and selfish as it is I always felt kinda bummed that I didn’t get so much as a second glance back there. I mean sure, there are twice as many stallions in Canterlot than there are in Ponyville but four to one odds are still fairly heavily stacked in my favor right?
Anyway, I’m really hoping tonight goes well. My work at Berry’s got the attention of some snooty cocktail magazine out of Canterlot and the interview brought in a lot of positive press (and a raise! Score!). Who knew that a pony with an alchemy cutie mark and a doctorate in biomedical magichemistry would make a good bartender right? With the extra bits I’m raking in I might even be able to afford a real house on my own, and if Lyra, Bon Bon and I…well, decide to go ahead with things, we could easily manage a full sized house in the suburbs, white picket fence, extra bedrooms for potential foals, and maybe even a pool in the back yard. The stereotypical Equestrian dream come true.
Ugh, I’m getting ahead of myself. Before any of that happens, tonight has to be perfect. If I buck this up I can kiss any shot at a relationship good bye. I’m feeling cautiously optimistic about almost everything…except the physical part. Lyra and Bon Bon have been really great about how slow I’ve wanted to take this, and I’ve gotten a lot better about it, but if they want to…Faust I can’t even write it, how pathetic is that? If they want to…brew the ultimate love potion, I don’t think I’ll be able to perform. They've been physical before obviously, I walked in on them once in fact. I know I don't have the experience to measure up. I know they'll say that it won't matter since I'm new at ultimate love potion brewing, but still, that's one more thing to worry about on top of all the other date night stuff.
I’ve been up front right from the start and told them that I don’t expect the traditional courtship horseapples from them. I don’t need to be coddled like that, but this is the one thing that really worries me. A lot of the time mares will offer…ultimate love potion brewing (Luna that sounds stupid, and yet I still can’t bring myself to write the real thing, and I’m a bucking doctor) to get a stallion interested in a real relationship, which I thankfully haven’t had to worry about with these two, but that goes two ways. If I don’t let things progress physically sometime our relationship will stagnate and then it’ll either just fade away or collapse horrifically and if that happens I-
Oh buck, one of them just knocked, they’re here. Gotta go. I’m not all that religious, but I’m praying for Cadence’s blessing tonight.
“Coming! Just a second!” I hurtled myself into the bathroom to check my appearance in the mirror one last time, not liking how bloodshot my grey eyes were, but no amount of eyedrops had helped, and I was out of time. Boring chestnut coat completely brushed, check. Slightly sweaty black mane tangle free, check. Fetlocks shorn evenly, check. Rectangular black framed not-quite-as-nerdy-as-my-other-pair-of-glasses glasses clean, check. Horn blemish free, check. Breath fresh, check. Bowtie tied, to the point of near-strangulation, so check. Alright, I was looking about as good as I possibly could…gulp. Time to face the music. I trotted to the door of my Spartan apartment, telekinetically picking up my carefully-packed saddle bags on the way.
“Hiya Beaker, you look good.” Lyra greeted when I opened the door. The mint-green mare wasn’t wearing a fancy outfit, but then again she never did. She was, however, wearing her nicest necklace (almost a net really) of gold chain and twinkly opals along with a horn lattice made of electrum that complimented her eyes nicely. In short, she was stunning.
“Thanks Lyra, you too.”
“What? Am I just chopped alfalfa?” Bon Bon asked, smiling. “Don’t answer that Lyra.”
“You look gorgeous Bon Bon, you always do.” Unlike Lyra, who has a deep-seated dislike for all things clothing, Bon Bon has a number of dresses for all occasions, and the one she wore now was one of the fancier ones. Midnight blue and very simple, until you looked closer and realized that there was real silver stitching running through it in understated geometric patterns and that the hem of the slightly high cut garment was studded with prismatic crystals. It complemented her coloring very nicely and she turned heads whenever she wore it.
“You always did know how to flatter me.” She grinned and leaned in for a quick nuzzle which I gladly reciprocated. She’s the mellower of the two and the very definition of a cuddlebug.
“I do my best.” We nuzzled for a long moment and she ended it with a feather soft kiss on my cheek. Then it was Lyra’s turn. More nuzzling and a quick peck concluded our normal greeting and we started down the path from my boarding house to the side street we’d be taking to get to Horte’s, chatting along the way as our hooves made rhythmic clopping noises that echoed off the walls of the houses and storefronts that led into Ponyville proper. Early Autumn smells wafted through the air and the fast fading sunlight painted the whole town a spectacular golden hue.
“I like those glasses, they bring out your eyes really well.” Bon Bon said as we dodged a cart being pulled by Carrot Top. The narrow streets around the residential area of Ponyville weren't conducive to heavy cart traffic, and her one-mare caravan was causing a bit of a roving pedestrian clog.
“Thanks, my other ones broke last night.”
“How?” Lyra asked, dodging a galloping foal being chased by an angry parent and brushing against me in a way that might have been a complete accident but totally wasn’t.
“Berry was doing some flair bartending and one of the unicorns in the audience screwed up her routine by trying to catch the bottle mid-air. I ended up catching a bottle of high end Prench vermouth right between the eyes.”
“Ooh, ouch.” Bon Bon winced. “You okay?”
“Well I was a bit dazed for a few seconds and I spilled a martini I was mixing all over the bar, but other than that and the broken glasses nothing bad happened. The crowd thought it was hilarious.”
“The bottle didn’t even break?” Lyra asked a bit skeptically.
“Heh, booze bottles are sturdier than the movies would have you believe. If they were as flimsy as those cowpony movies make them out to be the distilleries wouldn’t be making any money.” This kind of thing I’m comfortable talking about. Talking shop was a much-needed distraction from the anxiety currently boiling up in my gut.
“Well it’s good to know you’re okay. Did you not even get a bruise?”
“Nope, I got off lucky.”
“I’ll say. It’d be a shame if that pretty muzzle of yours got roughed up!” Lyra patted me on the shoulder and gave me a saucy wink.
“Lyra!”
“What? It’s true.” Shameless, is Lyra, but that’s why everyone loves her.
“Thanks.” I couldn’t hide my blush, but I appreciated the compliment. I’ve never liked how…boring, I look, but dyeing your whole coat isn’t feasible as an everyday thing, and that’s if you can make your own dye. “I’m glad I wasn’t bruised either. I’ve seen what happens when you get an eye-bruise, it’s not pretty.”
“You mean a black eye?”
“No, you can actually get a bruise on your eye itself. Conjunctival Hematoma I think it’s called. Basically one or more of the tiny blood vessels burst and the white of your eye turns blood red for-”
“Okay, that’s enough!” Bon Bon blurted, looking horrified.
“Sorry, old habit from med school.” I rubbed the back of my neck self-consciously and inwardly remonstrated myself for being stupid. Ocular trauma wasn’t the best pre-dinner conversation.
“Anyway,” Lyra was quick to change the subject. “How did that interview with Canterlot Cocktail Quarterly go?”
“Well enough for Berry to give me a raise.” I couldn’t help but smile a bit as my marefriends complemented me (and in Lyra’s case gave me a kiss that was just short of being inappropriate in public). I may not have much pride in my looks, but slingin’ booze is something I am proud of, and I felt my chest puff out a bit as we crossed the street from the old-fashioned residential zone of Ponyville to the noticeably more modern commercial zone...such as it was.
“Was it the Ponyville Toddy or the Zap Apple Sling that got their attention?” Bon Bon is an avid fan of all things food and drink, it comes part and parcel with her job as a confectioner. She’s always on the lookout for new ideas for candies and she isn’t above blatantly stealing flavors from other sources…it’s one of her more winning qualities.
“Well, officially it was the Zap Apple Sling, but the way the spokesmare sucked down the Ponyville Toddy I’m pretty sure it was a bit of both.” We were within sight of Horte’s now. Busy as all tartarus, damn. “She could sure hold her liquor too.”
“You’d think a cocktail reviewer would be able to.” Lyra pointed out dryly.
“Yes, probably an important thing to have on your job application. Right next to: doesn’t drunk teleport and makes great hangover cures.” I rejoined without skipping a beat.
“So, what’s in the Zap Apple Sling?” Bon Bon asked casually, and I almost answered her before I caught myself.
“Nice try, you know I can’t tell you. Trade secret.” I grinned at her, she’d been trying to get the recipes for my more successful (and original) boozy concoctions out of me for a while now. Mainly because she wanted to put them into cordials and sell them in her shop to bring in the adult demographic.
“I’ll get it out of you some day you know.” She said with mock severity, though her sparkling eyes ruined the effect. “Why not just give in now?”
“Where would the fun in that be?” I asked, giving her an impulsive kiss, which made her smile brighten even further. Public displays of affection are a huge faux pas in Canterlot, especially among the nouveau rich, like my parents. It took me a while before I could comfortably do anything physical in public. Playing the hard-to-get, romantic-but-shy stallion was something drilled into me pretty much from birth.
“Come on you two, the streets are clear.” Lyra nudged us both. “As cute as you two are we shouldn’t keep Horte waiting, you know how he gets.” I glanced across the street and sure enough, there was the Prench stallion himself standing at the podium that held the reservations book and looking at us with thinly-concealed impatience. I respect him for running his own business and working as much as he does, but he’s still extremely…well, Prench.
“Yeah, you’re right. The last time we were a bit late I swear he insulted us in Prench.” Bon Bon grinned at the memory. She had gone ahead of us to secure a table, but Lyra and I had gotten a little, er, physical, and the kissing sort of distracted us. Horte had grumbled under his breath the whole time he took our orders and served us.
“I don’t know much Prench, but I caught ‘hamster’ and something about berries.” I supplied.
“And why do you know those particular words in Prench?” Lyra quirked an eyebrow at me.
“I took a Prench class in community college.”
“Really? Do you remember any more? Might come in handy for deciphering the menu.”
“You’re kidding right? I can barely remember which community college I went to.” My early school experiences were blurry at best. Being away from home for the first time and in close proximity to easily-gained alcohol tends to have that effect.
“Sounds familiar.” Lyra laughed. “How about you Bon Bon? You remember anything about college besides hangovers?”
“Unlike you two hedonists, I actually learned something. Granted, I went to culinary school so it’s a bit easier for me to remember, but at least I paid attention.”
“I paid attention. Enough to pass anyway…well, mostly. After my first failed class my parents and I had a talk and I straightened up after that.” My parents had tolerated my rowdy behavior at first, but they drew a firm line in the sand and for once they had managed to draw it in the right place.
“My days at the conservatory were a blur of cheap wine and tail chasing…good times, good times…” Lyra’s eyes misted over and her smile got decidedly perverse as she took a trot through memory lane.
“Watch it harpflank, your marefriend and coltfriend are right next to you.” Bon Bon swatted her long-term lover gently on the flank with her tail and I chuckled. Neither of us held Lyra’s wild past against her, she never gave us any reason to after all.
“Heartstrings, party of three?” Horte interrupted us imperiously, pretending he hadn’t seen us practically once a week for over a year.
“Yup, that’s us!” Lyra chirped. Horte flipped through the reservation book unnecessarily as he ‘double checked’. I rolled my eyes. Honestly, if the stallion didn’t run one of the best restaurants in town I doubt he’d be able to hold a job.
“Ah, here you are. Follow me please.” He grabbed three menus and led us to a wrought iron table alongside the building and next to the park that took up the next lot over. He deposited a menu in front of each of us and filled water glasses from a nearby carafe. “Our special tonight is salade mesclun and bisque tomates, paired with a red Vacqueyras. I will return in a moment to take your orders.” And with that he was gone.
“It never ceases to amaze me that a pony that unsociable manages to keep a job as a waiter.” Bon Bon remarked, perusing the menu intently.
“Well, owning the place probably helps.” Lyra said, frowning. “Ugh, I wish he would translate more than just the appetizer menu.”
“I think I’m going to go with the special.” I announced after a moment of trying to translate the menu and giving up. It constantly changed depending on what was in season, and while I respect and encourage that, it was still a pain in the plot when you wanted to order.
“I’m going to stick with the quiche…and the Riesling, just to tweak Horte’s tail.” Lyra giggled. Horte, like everypony from Prance, held the belief that anything Prench was innately superior. Especially food and wine. The sole Riesling on the wine menu is only there because the only importer of spirits in Ponyville owns that particular vineyard and is always pushing her product. Berry's always had a few bottles of the stuff hanging around, and in all fairness it wasn't that bad, but it wasn't exactly ambrosia either.
“You’re a horrible pony Lyra.” I grinned. “But I suppose that’s why I love you so much.”
“Well naturally.” She replied, her eyes twinkling.
“Don’t inflate her ego Beaker, she hardly needs it.” Bon Bon admonished. “And I think I’ll have the potatoes au gratin…with a beer.”
“Ooh, Horte will never stop sneering at you.” I chuckled.
“How will I ever go on?” Bon Bon snickered.
“I’ve been a bad influence on you sweetie.” Lyra declared proudly, laughing at her own pun and wrapping Bon Bon in a half-hug.
“Yes, you have. Not that I’m complaining.” Bon Bon returned, rolling her eyes and smiling at her mint colored mate.
“Well I, at least, am still pure and uncorrupted.” I brought my hoof up to my chest and polished it on my coat. This kind of banter put me at ease, it’s a comfortable routine for us by now and it’s as familiar as my graduated cylinder Cutie Mark at this point.
“Really? We might have to do something about that.” The leer Lyra gave me rocked me back on my laurels a bit, but Bon Bon snapped her out of it by smacking her lightly.
“Be nice, it’s not polite to embarrass your date.”
“But he’s just so…delectable.” Lyra’s golden eyes danced with amusement at my reaction, but she leaned over and rested a hoof on my whither when she realized she’d pushed it a bit too far. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything in public.”
“I didn’t think so.” I leaned into the contact, acknowledging the unspoken apology. I didn’t get to finish that thought because Horte, who had the uncanny ability to sense exactly when his customers were ready to order, popped up and stuffily asked us for our selections. After making the obligatory scribble in his ever present notepad (and grimacing in distaste at my dates’ gauche drink selections) he ambled off in the direction of the kitchens.
“So Beaker, did Berry say anything about letting you set up that cocktail chemistry thing you wanted to try?” Bon Bon asked.
“She said she’d consider it but I’m pretty sure she’s going to say no. Using a bunch of lab equipment to mix drinks and exploit the low ignition point of alcohol might bring in a few customers, but the set up would be a bit expensive and it would conflict with the whole local watering hole vibe of the bar.” I really wanted to use a bunsen burner at the bar, not to mention all the fancy tubes and stoppers and vials. “If Berry’s was a dance club in Los Pegasus or a discothèque in Manehattan it might work, but a mad scientist style lab wouldn’t really mesh with the atmosphere or work to well in ponyville.”
“That’s too bad.” Lyra looked genuinely disappointed. Her fascination with science fiction and generally…carefree, demeanor meant that she was a sucker for anything shiny or scientific looking.
“Eh, it was really my Cutie Mark talking when I pitched the idea.” Put me in a lab with some alchemical trials to run and I’m a happy pony. Normally fiddling around with the endless different permutations of booze, mixers, and garnishes that make up the cocktail world is enough to satisfy my inner Dr. Frankenpony, but occasionally my Cutie Mark grumbles at me to get back into a real lab.
“You could always set something up at home.” Lyra pointed out hopefully. No doubt she intended to be my test subject.
“As much as I’d like to do just that, the equipment is hard to come by and expensive. Otherwise I totally would.” I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of my own cocktail lab, nothing big, but with plenty of vials and pipettes and maybe an alembic or two, just for fun. I've always liked alembics a lot. Even the word itself has a delightful shape to it as it rolls off the tongue.
“Lyra, you of all ponies hardly need the opportunity to drink during the day. Think of the example you’ll be setting for your students.” Bon Bon sort of had a point. Lyra works hard, but being a musician doesn’t pay the bills on its own so she tutors foals of all ages in singing and various instruments. She also plays as hard as she works, which can mean occasionally having to cover up a hangover in a hurry.
“Hey, wine is an essential part of my creative process.” Lyra sniffed imperiously, folding her forehooves in her favorite ‘I’m-an-artist-so-you-just-wouldn’t-understand’ pose. “I’ll have you know that almost every song I’ve ever written was formulated after I’d had a glass or two...or three.”
“So that explains those weird splotches on the tablature.” I snarked. "And here I always thought you were sacrificing chickens or something." We give Lyra grief about her frequent alcohol consumption, but she knows her limit…usually.
“Have you ever considered starting your own bar?” Bon Bon asked, her rear hoof touching mine under the table.
“Oh sure, plenty of times, but that’s really costly and the stress involved is unreal, not to mention getting a loyal clientele. Shops and bars need to be a known quantity for them to get good business in a town like Ponyville.”
“True.” Bon Bon consented. Her own business was inherited from her mother, but since she runs it by herself now she knows exactly what it’s like to be a small business owner. “I suppose little towns like this don’t exactly encourage the entrepreneurial spirit.”
“Unfortunately no.”
“You know.” She added after a short pause. “You could always come and work for me. There’s just as much chemistry in baking and candy making as there is in bartending, probably more.”
“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. The last time I tried to bake something…well…” Thankfully the fire department in Ponyville was top-notch (Derpy’s influence no doubt, everyone loves her, but…).
“You could always try making candy. You’d be really good at that. Most of my business is candy anyway, Sugarcube corner outsells me on baked goods.” I was surprised by how earnest she was.
“You’re…you’re serious.” I met her gaze evenly. “I, um, I really don’t know what to say.”
“I’m not trying to push you.” She replied quickly. “You have a good thing going at Berry’s and I wouldn’t want to take that away from you, but yes I’m serious. Working the shop by myself isn’t easy and the few ponies with a confectionary talent in this town are already employed. Besides, it would be nice to spend more time with you.”
“I don’t think I can leave Berry’s, not yet. Maybe in the future, but not right now.” Workplace romances were supposed to be a bad idea right?
“That’s okay, the offer is there for you if you ever decide to take it.” Silence ruled for a sizable chunk of time as the awkward generated by Bon Bon’s proposal faded. I might have taken her up on it if I hadn’t enjoyed my work at Berry’s so much or gotten the raise. It was good work, much better than what my parents had planned for me anyway. At least at the bar I didn’t have to worry about my creations sterilizing innocent ponies.
“So, that was a thing that was said.” Lyra blurted when she (predictably) couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “How about we stop being awkward and start having fun again?”
“Subtle as ever Lyra.” Bon Bon glanced at her best friend and lover gratefully.
“I try!” Came the bubbly reply. Say what you will about her, it’s hard to stay gloomy when Lyra’s around. “Want to hear about the voice lesson I taught to Cheerilee’s class today?”
“Let me guess: Sweetie Bell, Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom wreaked havoc.” As a bartender I hear all sorts of things, but horror stories about the Cutie Mark Crusaders are one of the most common tales of woe to grace my ears. All I can say is I’m glad I’m not related to them or deal with them on a regular basis.
“Completely ruined the lesson.” Lyra chirped in confirmation. “Too loud, couldn’t follow the beat, hay, they even tried improvising at one point.”
“Ooh, ouch.” Bon Bon giggled. “That bad?”
“I thought it was hilarious. Cheerilee just about had a stroke. Apparently she had a talk with them about not making a fuss because I was a guest lecturer or something.” Lyra made an incomprehensible gesture with her forehoof. “She really let them have it afterwards, poor foals. I tried to bail them out, but flowerflank wouldn’t go for it.”
“Flowerflank?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow. Normally Lyra didn’t give somepony a nickname like that unless…
“Oh please Lyra, tell me you didn’t.” Bon Bon came to the same conclusion that I did and facehoofed.
“What?” Lyra blinked in confusion. “Oh, me and Cheerilee? No, no. No. Nonono…okay, maybe a little.”
“Wow, Cheerilee always struck me as a stallion only mare.” Granted, I haven’t had much experience with her, but…
“We were both a bit drunk okay.” Lyra defended. “Not too drunk, ‘cause then it would have been creepy and rapey. We’d both had a couplea bottles of cider and she was…curious.”
“Curious.” Bon Bon deadpanned.
“Yes. Curious. 'sides, I wasn’t about to say no, you have seen her plot right?”
“Lyra…you do realize we’re in public? At a nice restaurant.” I grumbled, trying my best not to envision Ponyville’s resident schoolmarm banging my marefriend.
“No one else is paying attention to us.”
“It’s the principal of the thing.” I returned. “Besides…wow, I just…wow.”
“How did you even meet her anyway? She can’t have gone to the Canterlot Conservatory, she’s from Manehattan. No one from Manehattan ever gets in there.” Bon Bon asked pointedly. Canterlot and Manehattan's rivalry can only be considered friendly by the very loosest definition of the term, and a pony from one city applying to a school or job in the other would inevitably be met with staggering amounts of passive-aggressive horseapples.
“Eh, it was a party.” Lyra explained with a flip of her forehoof. “She knew somepony who knew somepony and poof, she’s in. I’m not complaining though. Tons ‘a fun.”
“Lyra, there’s this thing. It’s called shame. Ever heard of it?” I deadpanned.
“Nope, what’s that? Something you eat?” She fired back. “It sounds tasty.”
“You’re hopeless.” Bon Bon rubbed between her eyes with her hoof as she shook her head. Lyra just laughed.
“Why Bon Bon I have no idea-”
“Your orders.” Horte interrupted, nearly making me jump out of my skin. How could an earth pony laden down with three large metal trays move so Celestia damned quietly?
“Thank you Horte.” Bon Bon said while I attempted to get my heart restarted.
Horte wasted no time removing the lids from the trays and pouring our drinks. The smell of my soup hit my nose like Rainbow Dash hitting the ground after a stunt gone wrong and my stomach growled to match. I’d been too nervous to eat much today, and tomato soup is one of my favorite things in the world. The salad, on the other hoof, was very basic, but at Horte’s even the basic stuff was pretty good. Lyra and Bon Bon looked equally pleased with their food as well and our small talk ceased for a few seconds as we ate.
“Well, I’ll say this for Horte.” Lyra said around a mouthful of quiche. “He makes good grub.”
“That he does.” I agreed. Soup and salad usually isn’t anything to write home about, but the ingredients were high quality, organic, and fresh, which makes a huge difference. You don’t get this kind of food quality in cities like Canterlot or Manehattan, they’re too far from the farms that produce the…well, produce. Ponyville on the other hand, is surrounded by nothing but farmland, and as a result food that Canterlot ponies paid out the nose for was actually rather cheap here, especially at the farmer’s markets.
“Hey Bon Bon, can I try a bite?” Lyra pleaded, giving her best begging face.
“You have your own food.” Bon Bon replied, ignoring the big wobbly golden eyes to her right. After being around Lyra for so long you had to learn to ignore her (admittedly very good) puppy eyes, just out of self-defense.
“I just wanna try a bite.”
“If you wanted to have cheesy potatoes you should have ordered them.”
“I’ll let you try a bite of mine.”
“Lyra…”
“Please?”
“Lyra, this is pathetic, you’re a grown mare.”
“Pretty please?”
“You have your own food Lyra.”
“Pretty please with sugar on top?”
I chuckled as I watched them go through this dance for what was probably the millionth time. Every time we went out to eat this happened without fail, and it always ends the same way. A disappointed and sad looking Lyra gouging at Bon Bon’s conscience until she got a feel-better kiss in return. It’s happened a few times when I've eaten at their place or vice versa, but then it ends differently.
When they’re at home and this happens Lyra gets what she wants and usually ends up coaxing Bon Bon into feeding her directly, which makes Lyra seem horribly selfish and immature if you see it out of context, but she’s really not. After being fed Lyra starts badgering Bon Bon again and doesn’t stop until Bon Bon ends up lying down with her head pillowed on Lyra’s flank and being fed herself.
The first time I saw them go through the routine I had been completely baffled, but by the end it was impossible not to see how much they cared about each other and I’d been touched that I’d been allowed to see it. All herds had their little rituals, even the small ones only made up of two ponies.
Seeing them repeat the little performance again brought a smile to my face and I couldn’t help but wonder what the two of them saw in me that they chose to court me. Not that I was complaining, far from it, but it never ceased to amaze me. I was also feeling a lot better about the rest of the night, however it ended up going. I even had my own surprise for the two mares across from me, though I wasn’t about to interrupt the show.
“Please Bons?”
“No!”
“Please?”
“For the last time, no. You’re making a scene Lyra, please act your age.”
“Oh bah, who cares about acting your age when there’s food involved! Please?”
“No, and that’s final.” Lyra’s drooped at that pronouncement, announcing that she was giving up.
“Fine, just shoot me down and hurt my feelings. I don’t care.” Lyra’s eyes got big and watery as her lip quivered tremulously.
“I’m still not giving you any food.”
“That’s fine…” The eyes got even more watery and the lip even more quivery.
“Oh alright.” Bon Bon sighed theatrically. “Will a kiss make you stop the puppy face?”
“Maybe…” Bon Bon rolled her eyes but leaned over and planted a quick but undeniably affectionate kiss on Lyra’s
cheek, and Lyra’s face went from wilted and sad to radiantly beaming in a split second.
“Marefriend love! Yay!” She giggled before turning to me and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “You wanna donate some love Beaker?”
“I can’t donate any marefriend love, I’m not your marefriend.” I smirked, munching on the last of my salad and starting on the soup.
“Coltfriend love then, I’m not picky!”
“We know that dear.” Bon Bon chortled and Lyra stuck her tongue out like the five year old she really was.
“I guess I have some extra.” I leaned over and kissed Lyra’s proffered cheek obediently.
“Don’t enable her beaker, she’s bad enough already.”
“You’re just jealous ‘cause I got a kiss and you didn’t.”
“Oh please.”
“Before you two get started,” I cut them off before they could start another round of back-and-forth, “were you guys thinking about dessert?”
“Uh, not yet, why?” Bon Bon cocked her head a bit to the side, it was awful cute.
“I brought something with me from home, if you guys don’t mind a liquid dessert.” I had, earlier in the week, procured a bottle of boring run-of-the-mill whiskey and improved it with the addition of…various things.
“Sold!” Lyra blurted before Bon Bon could say anything.
“What exactly did you bring?” Bon Bon tried to peek into my saddlebag for a clue.
“You remember that stuff I made for the Hearth’s Warming Eve?”
“You’ll have to be a bit more specific Beaker.” Bon Bon said dryly. “You made about fifty gallons of booze for the party at Berry’s.”
“The stuff we shared that I didn’t bring to Berry’s or the party at Sugarcube Corner.”
“You made more?” Lyra’s eyes widened comically. She’s a mare who loves her booze, but she’s particularly fond of whiskey cocktails and the infused whiskey I was referring to had made an impression on her. “I thought that was, like, special occasion only stuff.”
“Well, tonight is pretty special.” The fur on my face prickled as I blushed. “I’m out with you guys after all.” Bon Bon cooed at that. “And, uh, I thought we could go to one of our houses afterward and share some.”
My marefriends blinked at the door I’d just opened. The unspoken rule of courtship was that the mare invited the stallion over to her home when she wanted to bring sex into the courtship process and for all intents and purposes make the herdship official. The corollary to that rule is that the stallion brings a hoof-made gift of some sort if he's willing to go through with it. It's usually but not necessarily food or drink, as a token of acceptance and general politeness. It stemmed from an ancient dowry tradition where a stallion, when he was being married off, would bring something he made himself when he met his herdmates for the first time as a symbol of his domestic skills. Among the aristocracy it wasn't unheard of for stallions entering their herds to plan, prepare, and host intimate but extravagant parties for the families of the newly formed herd, and criticisms of said functions had caused more than one blood feud over the years, some of which were still very much ongoing.
By mentioning both of our houses in addition to the securely swaddled bottle in my saddle bag I was obliquely telling them that I was ready for the next step while giving them the option to say no. Traditionally it’s the mare(s) that do the initiating, but I’ve never been very traditional in that regard and while neither Lyra and Bon Bon were exactly reactionaries I had the suspicion they didn't quite know what to do with my attitude sometimes.
“I…think that would be great.” Lyra sounded serious for the first time that night. She and Bon Bon shared a quick glance that probably held more meaning than a full conversation and they both smiled.
“Would you like to come to our place?” There it was, in eight short words Bon Bon had all but made us official.
“Yeah, I’d like to.” I knew I looked ridiculous, blushing as much as I was, and I was distinctly glad that the tables nearest us were empty so nopony overheard our conversation.
“Excusez-moi,” Interrupted Horte with his usual perfect timing. “But were any of you considering dessert?”
“No, thank you.” Bon Bon smiled politely at him, but her eyes stayed on me as she said it. “But the check would be nice, and some to-go boxes.”
“Of course madame, if you will wait just a moment.” He bowed out and returned with the check and a few to-go boxes. We each paid our portion of the bill separately, again going against tradition, and thanked him before standing up and walking out onto the darkened streets of Ponyville, white plastic boxes embraced in my silvery telekinesis.
My nerves started jangling pretty bad as we started the relatively short walk to Lyra and Bon Bon’s place, and I was grateful for the glass of wine I’d had and the whiskey I would be having. Most of my nervous tics involved telekinesis and rapidly moving objects, neither of which were conducive to romance...well, most of the time anyway.
We walked in silence for the most part, though that didn’t mean there wasn’t any communication. Bon Bon hummed quietly as we went and her tail brushed my hind legs frequently. I couldn’t work up the nerve to return the rather risque gesture, but I appreciated it regardless and I brushed up against her side as we went.
Lyra wasn’t quite as restrained as Bon Bon was. She walked so close to me we were practically joined at the flank, and her magical aura feathered out to waft against mine in a soft caress only another unicorn could have felt. I flared my magic slightly in response and clumsily attempted to return the favor, but I could tell I was leaking a bit too much power since the occasional glimmer of light appeared around her horn where our energies were colliding most intensely. I’ve never been good at the really delicate raw-energy magical projections. Telekinesis is my bread-and-butter, not fancy stuff like that.
By the time we got back to Lyra and Bon Bon’s place the streetlights were on full blast, bathing the area with a flickering yellow glow. The whole street had originally been a suburb of sorts when the town had been young, but as time passed and the population increased the city had swallowed up the neighborhood. The result was a strictly delineated residential zone set incongruously between Ponyville proper and the shopping district.
How my marefriends had managed to acquire the place I’ll never know, seeing as these houses tend to be passed down through families and I know for a fact that neither of their families lived anywhere near here. It’s definitely a nice place though. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, full kitchen, all wrapped up in a two-story beige package with brown trim and a rampant infestation of ivy that (despite Lyra’s best efforts) gave the place a bit of class.
Our hoofsteps echoed off the walls of the adjacent houses as we walked down the empty street and up the small paved path up to the front door. Light glinted off the numerous windows, making the normally cheerful looking house seem almost creepy, but that lasted only as long as it took Lyra to open the door and flick the lights on.
“I need to take care of my dress.” Bon Bon announced when we were inside. “Want me to take your stuff too Lyra?”
“Nah, I’ll go with ya. You’d poke a hole in your mouth if you tried to carry this horn sheath. Beaker, could you get the booze ready?” Lyra’s eyes lit up at the prospect of alcoholic fun to follow. “The good glasses are in the cabinet above the sink.”
“Yeah, do you want me to bring them into the living room?”
“Sure. We’ll be right down.”
Having been in this house plenty of times before, I knew exactly where I was going. I ignored the numerous doors in the long, white carpeted and dark wood paneled hallway that ran the length of the house. At the far end of it was the kitchen, where I found the glen cairn glasses Lyra had mentioned.
I left the kitchen light on so I’d have enough light to see by and levitated three glasses with me into the adjoined living room. Then, after a frustratingly long hunt for the light switch, I set my saddle bags down, withdrew the bottle (carefully wrapped in a few towels just in case) and measured out three drams of the highly aromatic concoction within before settling down to wait for the other two, admiring the room while I did.
The carpet was the same horrendously outdated white shag pile that contiguously ran throughout the entirety of the house except for the kitchen and bathrooms, and it was strewn with numerous cushions of various colors and even a full sized blue couch. The walls were painted a light tan color and pictures of Lyra and Bon Bon’s families were hung all over. There were a few pictures of us together too, but those were much newer and conspicuous by the visible lack of age to the frames and the pictures themselves.
My favorite one sat on a shelf opposite the kitchen doorway, which also happened to be the focal point of the room. The picture had been taken on one of our first dates. We were at a Pinkie Party ™ and the Perpetually Perky Party Pony had somehow managed to find out we were dating and had taken a picture of us mid-conversation. It had been perfect timing on Pinkie’s part: Lyra had just delivered the punch line to a spectacularly crude joke as I had taken a drink of punch and the predictable spit-take had occurred. The picture captured me mid-spew, just before a laughing Lyra caught a shower of slightly used fruit punch and right when Bon Bon’s eyes had bulged out the most.
The memory never failed to bring a smile to my face. Lyra was a good sport about it though. Hay, she thought it was hilarious once the sticky stuff was out of her coat. Bon Bon hadn’t been so pleased, but she had been more annoyed with Lyra than anything else.
“Bit for your thoughts?” Lyra asked as she walked in behind me, pausing to nuzzle my cheek and very blatantly take a deep breath of my scent.
“Just remembering.” I replied, returning the favor.
“I still think we should take that picture down.” Bon Bon said, accepting the glass I levitated up to her.
“Is this the exact same stuff you made for Hearth’s Warming Eve” Lyra sked after sniffing her glass.
“Well, not quite, I tweaked the recipe a bit. This stuff is a bit…well, not really sweeter, but it’s less savory than the last batch.”
“Mmm, I can tell.” Bon Bon remarked, rolling her glass slowly in her hoof and smelling the contents carefully. “So, what’s in it?” She wasn’t really serious, asking that was just a habit at that point, which made her face when I actually told her all the more satisfying.
“Lemon peel, black pepper corns, sage, cinnamon, cardamom, cloves, and vanilla.” Quintessential fall flavors, well except for maybe the lemon peel and peppercorns.
“What happened to your agreement with Berry?” Bon Bon blurted in surprise.
“This is my own personal recipe, she doesn’t have any say about what I do with it.”
“This would be really nice mulled.” Lyra commented, taking a generous sip. “Ooh yeah, nice and hot…maybe mixed in with some cider.”
“Yeah, that would be nice…strong enough to get you bent in half drunk after one glass, but nice.” Bartender though I may be, I will never understand ponies who drink to get drunk. I’ve tried it, and generally speaking the hangovers aren’t worth the temporary escape from reality. These days (read: post-college) when I drink I make sure I don’t get drunk. This dram plus the wine I’d had earlier would put me about one strong drink below my limit, which is where I always stopped.
“Oh fine, non-alcoholic cider then, maybe the zap apple stuff.”
“Yeah, that does sound really nice.” If I sounded wistful, it was only because zap apple cider is my favorite beverage.
“In front of the fire…on a cold night.” Lyra led the way into fantasy.
“Curled up under a soft blanket.” Bon Bon continued.
“With some smoked almonds…” My favorite snack.
“Maybe some sugar plums.” Bon Bon’s favorite dessert.
“After a good rut...”
“Lyra!”
I felt ashamed of myself for laughing at such an immature joke, but I did. Lyra was pretty much a walking innuendo on her best days, but that one had been perfectly timed even by her standards.
“Please don’t encourage her Beaker, I’ve been trying to break that habit of hers for years now.” The smile on Bon Bon’s face completely destroyed any chance she had of being taken seriously, nevermind the fact that she said the same thing whenever I laughed at one of Lyra’s bad jokes.
“Good luck.” I snorted.
“Never gonna happen Bons.” Lyra confirmed.
After that our conversation just sort of drifted from one topic to the next, never about anything serious, just whatever happened to be on our minds. We talked about Bon Bon’s shop and how Derpy’s daughter Dinky had tried to cadge free birthday toffee by playing up the cute little filly card, we talked about some of the more rambunctious drunks that had come into Berry’s the extent the enthusiastic bouncers had gone to evict them from the premises, at one point (after we’d made serious headway into our drinks) we even argued over what the opposite of a chocolate chip cookie was: oatmeal raisin or snickerdoodle.
It was fun too. Most of our dates ended up like this, with us having a convoluted and completely pointless conversation about everything and nothing at the same time. The topic changed every few minutes, non-sequitors abounded, and occasionally there were even some deep thoughts and cushion seat philosophy (especially when booze was involved).
It was this kind of thing that I had really been looking for in a relationship. After I’d moved away from Canterlot to get away from my parents I’d been thoroughly disillusioned with the concept of love and herdship, primarily because I’d grown up seeing the worst possible side of it, but after a few years of living alone I’d started to feel not empty or lacking but…well, It was too complex and contradictory to really describe.
I knew, deep down, what I wanted, but I kept myself firmly in denial about it for a long time. I wasn’t lonely, I had friends, and between all the volunteering I did and the extra hours I gladly picked up at every opportunity I kept myself too busy to really think about relationships , but eventually I had to face the facts. The reason I’d been going so far out of my way to avoid having a relationship was because I was afraid of turning into my parents, but at the same time I desperately wanted to have exactly what they didn’t. A mutually loving committed relationship.
As frightening as admitting that was, the next part was worse. I had to actually start dating. I had no idea where to start, but for once the ridiculous gender disparity worked to my advantage and once word had gotten out that I was looking for a herd I started getting some interest. I wasn’t swamped with mares or anything, but every now and again a mare would approach me and I’d end up with a date. Some went well, some went badly, but none of my dates and I really gelled until Lyra and Bon Bon came along.
They were the first ones that I’d ever gone on more than three dates with, I felt much more comfortable around them than I had with anypony else. After the initial first-date awkwardness talking with them had been extremely natural. That sort of easy familiarity had extended to the physical aspect of the relationship as well, mostly.
Once we’d been out on a few dates Lyra in particular had been pretty eager to start cuddling, among other things. I had been a bit reluctant at first, but even so I had a much easier time being physical with these two than any of the other mares who had insisted on that kind of thing.
By the time Bon Bon and I had finished our drinks I was feeling downright mellow. Lyra decided to have another small glass, mixed with some apple juice she found in their fridge. While she was busy doing that Bon Bon had settled against me and we had continued talking, but the talking had ceased pretty quickly as we started nuzzling, and then kissing.
Lyra liked to say that Bon Bon should have a pair of lips on her flank instead of the candies, and after the first time we’d made out I knew exactly why. I haven’t kissed a lot of ponies, just three of the mares I’d dated in Ponyville, but you didn’t need much experience to recognize Bon Bon’s gift.
Her lips moved softly against mine and her body was pressed gently against my side. At this distance I could smell the lingering remnants of the minimal perfume she used, lilac and something else I’d never been able to figure out. It meshed well with her natural scent, which was coming to the fore and becoming increasingly enticing.
I distantly heard Lyra settle down beside us, but Bon Bon wasn’t going to give me the opportunity to stop. After a few minutes of soft kissing Bon Bon surprised me by taking it up a notch. Her tongue gently swiped across my lower lip, asking for entrance. I obligingly tilted my head slightly and opened my mouth, allowing her to start exploring.
At first she kept it simple, she traced along my teeth and gums, which she knew I liked, and I did the same for her. We essentially took turns with it, but things started heating up pretty quickly and pretty soon our tongues were fully involved and we were doing full on oral battle. I couldn’t help but hum ever so slightly as her forehoof started stroking the underside of my jaw. Not to be outdone, I pressed a hoof into the sensitive spot just behind her left ear, causing her to let out her own quiet moan.
We kept that up for a while, stroking and kissing and fondling and petting until Lyra got impatient and decided to join in. The first I found out was when Bon Bon suddenly squeaked and broke the kiss. Surprised, I opened my eyes to see Lyra kissing Bon Bon’s Cutie Mark. My brown eyes met her golden ones and we shared a smirk before getting back to it. Lyra’s head dipped back to Bon Bon’s flank and did something that made Bon Bon squeak again, but I captured the confectioner’s lips before she could protest and we picked up right where we left off.
The smell the two of them were putting off was getting increasingly apparent and my cushion started getting a little uncomfortable as Bon Bon started being much more aggressive. Despite being extremely progressive when it comes to courtship, I have a thing about aggressive mares, and damned if Bon Bon wasn’t giving me my guilty pleasure.
“Hey Bons, want me to help you get ready for later?” Lyra asked lasciviously.
Bon Bon made an indistinct grunt through the kiss which Lyra was apparently able to understand, because she just chuckled throatily and did something that made Bon Bon whimper.
My forehooves wrapped around Bon Bon’s neck and I shuffled as close to her as I could comfortably be. Her hooves wandered all over me, prodding here, stroking there, just exploring. This was the furthest we’d ever gotten physically and I was enjoying myself immensely, especially once she got bold enough to kiss her way down my neck and use her mouth and a hoof to undo my bow tie.
Her hoof slipped southward and I shifted position a bit to let her get a better angle on my belly, which she exploited ruthlessly much to my delight. She accidentally hit a few ticklish spots, but she stayed away from those once she found them. She was startlingly good at finding sensitive areas, probably her experience with Lyra, who I knew from experience had a thing for belly rubs.
As Bon Bon rubbed at a particularly nice spot on my belly I started slipping a hoof lower on her body as well, hoping to mimic her actions. I trailed a hoof over all the real estate available to me in search of success, but her ministrations were so distracting I found myself frustratingly uncoordinated, to say nothing of my inexperience. Thankfully though, a voice came to my aid just then.
“Lower, and a little towards her hind legs.” Came Lyra’s whispered advice. I followed it and was rewarded with another one of Bon Bon’s squeaks, which felt very interesting through the kiss. “Stick to the area around her middle, she’s crazy for that. Imagine a belt about where your hoof is.”
With that unorthodox advice in mind I moved my hoof with a purpose and started working her into a lather. My inexperience definitely held me back a bit, but she was still getting heated, and that was what mattered. As Bon Bon squirmed under the touch of my inexperienced but enthusiastic hoof her oral assault got much more intense and I found myself on the defensive, not that I minded exactly.
I could hear Lyra giggling as she did whatever she was doing to Bon Bon’s flank, but whatever thoughts I may have had on the subject were brought to an abrupt halt by Bon Bon’s hoof vacating my belly for the base of my horn.
The instant she started massaging the skin around my horn my mind just shut down. I froze, breaking the kiss unintentionally, my breath coming in short pants that verged on hyperventilation as silvery ripples of sensation thrummed through my body like invisible strings. The smell of sunlight fell in a gossamer web across my right foreleg, I could taste a crisp fall breeze as clearly as I heard a cold glass of water on a hot summer day. The sensation of burrowing into bed on a cold winter night transformed itself into a chromatic ribbon that zipped across my field of view, entwining with the metallic sunburst that was the experience of finally scratching a stubborn itch and the amorphous rippling yellow square that represented the feeling of a good massage.
Concepts, ideas, and abstractions became concrete things, each one manifesting as a shape, sound, smell, taste, or more often some combination thereof. Different cocktails I made each day turned into motes of light and swam across my vision, the smell of fresh cut grass fell across my back like a light rain, the sheer sensuality of a lover’s kiss wrapped around my head like a scarf, and then-
OhsweetCelestiatoomuchmagicburningthroughmestopstopstopstopstopstopstopstopSTOP!
“-eaker? Beaker!” Lyra and Bon Bon were standing over me, looking a little frantic.
“Hunh? What?” I slurred. I’d somehow fallen completely limp on my side. I tried to right myself, but nothing worked quite right. My muscles wouldn’t work the way I wanted them to. “‘M ‘kay. ‘M okay. Dun’ worry. ’M fine.”
“Easy there, don’t try to get up.” Lyra cautioned, putting a forestalling hoof on my barrel. “Let it pass big guy, you just got scrambled but good.”
“Shcrambled?”
“I’m so sorry!” Bon Bon blurted.
“Why? Tha’ was amazin’.”
“What’s wrong Lyra? That’s never happened to you! Did I hurt him? He sounds like he’s concussed or-or something worse.”
“Nah, ya didn’t hurt him, he’s just awful sensitive is all.” Lyra nuzzled Bon Bon and the motion turned her head into a minty blur. “All unicorns are sensitive around there, but some of more so than others. I’m guessing Beaker was already channeling some magic without realizing it and when you started rubbing it sent him off on a trip.”
“Are you sure he’ll be okay?”
“I-I’ll be okay.” Things were more coherent now. I carefully turned myself over and got my hooves underneath me without standing up, I was still a bit too woozy for that.
“Are you sure?” Bon Bon inspected me closely, looking for signs of serious injury.
“Yeah, I’m okay now. I just needed a second to, uh, piece myself back together.” I smiled up at her as reassuringly as I could and leaned up for a quick nuzzle.
“I gotta say, I’m a bit jealous Beaker.” Lyra said, leaning in for her own nuzzle. “When Bons does that to me I just get all hot and gooey inside. You were out of it for a solid minute, what was it like?”
“Uh…I don’t know if I can really describe it.” At that point I was trying to remember it, but it was fading like the memory of a dream. “I didn’t experiment with hallucinogens in college. What the hay was that jolt at the end?”
“That’s what happens if you overdo a horn job. Your brain has a built-in circuit breaker sorta thingy. You scramble yourself too bad, you get a jolt and your magical circulatory system resets. It’s not pleasant, but no harm done. Didn’t you learn that in med school?”
“I’m an alchemist, not a neurosurgeon. I cross-trained in various fields but I never got that in-depth.”
“I don’t think we’ll be doing that again.” Bon Bon said, still nosing at me nervously.
“It’s not your fault Bons, you had no way of knowing. I wish you would’ve warned us though Beaker, if you scramble that easy you gotta let us know.” Lyra wasn’t quite lecturing me, but she was close.
“I didn’t know myself.” I defended.
“You never touched your horn?” Lyra asked skeptically, making a fantastically crude gesture with a hoof and her own horn.
“Er, no…” Silence dragged onward for a few seconds as they waited for the punch line to a joke that wasn’t there.
“Not at all? Not even with a thaumic resonance filter?” Lyra asked incredulously.
“A what?” Bon Bon interjected.
“It’s a series of lodestones unicorns use to purify eddies and kinks that form in our magical aura. It’s like getting a massage, but for your magic.” Lyra explained. “Most unicorns use them as a lead in to a good clop. You haven’t seen me use mine because that’s about all I ever use it for. But seriously Beaker, you never…”
“I never had one. My parents refused to buy one and when I moved to college I was too poor to afford one. By the time I got a real job I never really thought about getting one.” I winced inwardly at how I’d bucked this up.
“Not even when you…” Lyra made the same crude gesture again.
“No, I was, uh, I just didn’t.” All the blood in my body that had been going south was now heating up my muzzle and causing my fur to prickle uncomfortably. Then the awkward silence started all over again and persisted until I couldn’t bear it anymore. “Sorry, I kinda ruined things didn’t I?”
“We don’t have to stop.” Bon Bon hesitantly leaned in to nuzzle me.
“You sure? I mean, I’d like to keep going, a lot, but…” I nuzzled her back.
“No reason a little scrambling should interrupt the fun.” Lyra pronounced, already sounding like her regular gleefully perverse self. “So what if we have to make up some lost ground. Come on, to the bedroom!” She giggled to herself and promptly set off towards the stairs with a bounce in her step.
“Well she doesn’t waste any time…” I smiled despite myself as I watched Lyra leave, but it faded quickly as I looked back at Bon Bon. “Seriously though, if you don’t want to-”
She stopped me with a kiss, which also (given the amount of tongue got involved) served as her answer.
“Come on, let’s go join Lyra.” She murmured, smiling. Another quick kiss later she was leading me up to the bedroom.
As we walked she kept her tail hiked up high, and though the hallways we walked through were only lit by the sparse light leaking in through the windows I got a very nice glimpse of…well, everything. She’s slimmer than Lyra, which is a bit odd considering that she’s a confectioner, and I knew for a fact that she has occasional self-image problems, but she has outstanding legs. She could’ve modeled if she wanted, and watching her go upstairs at such close range…did things to me.
She looked over her shoulder occasionally as we went and I saw her grin out of the corner of my eye, apparently pleased. I was also getting occasional whiffs of her arousal right from the source, and by the time we were at the bedroom door I could feel myself starting to harden slightly.
Lyra was waiting for us, lying on the bed and grinning. Once we were in she shut the door behind us telekinetically and patted the bedspread beside her. The bare walls of the darkened bedroom were, I knew, painted a light peach color and the bedding was a matched white set of polar fleece sheets and a thick overstuffed comforter. Bon Bon and I wasted no time jumping up and joining her, which is where the next roadblock came.
“I, uh…what do we do?” I asked uncomfortably, glancing between the two of them. When I imagined losing my virginity it had always been with a single mare, and since both Lyra and Bon Bon were (presumably) planning on…being with me, there was the issue of order to consider. Not that I would ever ask about that, I’m smart enough to realize a pitfall when I see it.
“What do you mean?” Bon Bon asked.
“Well, it’s just…I’ve never.” The world got a bit spinny as all the blood in my body rushed to my face.
“Virgin?” Lyra asked, though her tone made it obvious that she was sure. We'd never specifically talked about it, but I was pretty sure that they knew I'd never been with anypony physically.
“Yeah.” I admitted. “That stuff a minute ago, that’s as far as I’ve ever gotten.”
“Oh, so we’re talking total blank slate here.” Lyra said, her eyebrows going up. There wasn’t an ounce of mockery or judgment in her voice, just excitement tempered with a small amount of surprise. “That makes things a bit more complicated, but nothing we can’t work with.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never been with a stallion.” Bon Bon offered with a shamelessness I normally associated with Lyra. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, there’s no shame in being a virgin.”
“Somehow I feel like this conversation has gone from hot to after school special.” I grumbled, facehoofing in frustration and embarrassment. Lyra’s hoof hooked under mine and pulled it down.
“Hey, it’s better we talk about this before hoof. Did you bring protection?”
“Yeah I did, I…I left it in my bag. Sorry.” And I had been all proud of myself remembering it in the first place…
“No problem, neither of us are in heat, but it’s a good habit to get into.” Lyra said. A second later the closet door opened and a small phial came floating out. I sheepishly accepted it from her and unstoppered it, downing the surprisingly non-vile contents in three quick gulps. It tasted like mildly salty, watered down cherry juice. Like a sports drink with some salt sprinkled in.
“Okay, well…now what?” I felt incredibly stupid asking it, but I really had no clue. “I always thought when I…did it for the first time it would only be with one mare.” I blurted, regretting it immediately.
“Well…” Lyra met Bon Bon’s eyes and they had another one of those wordless conversations. Bon Bon looked a little anxious for a split second and Lyra nodded right after that, but that was all I caught. “Just relax and follow my lead.”
Lyra scooted up to me and wrapped her hooves around my neck, pulling me into a kiss that started off surprisingly chaste (for her) but quickly devolved into a sloppy tongue-fest. Interestingly, despite Lyra’s blatant perversion and massive libido, she had always been a very gentle kisser. Very rarely did we end up bruising each others’ lips in the heat of the moment like I had occasionally done with Bon Bon. Instead, there was almost always copious amounts of tongue involved and plenty of fondling.
Her hooves traced my spine up and down in opposite directions, running her hooves over the nubs of my cervical vertebrae while she pressed her tongue against mine intently. In return I played to her tastes and braced the back of her head with a hoof and tugged at her mane gently. The responses I got were immediate and very satisfying, she giggled into the kiss and pressed a hoof into the sweet spot under my ear.
A shock of pleasure radiated from the sensitive nerve cluster and peculiar but extremely enjoyable warmth engulfed my head and started trickling down my spine, branching out to the rest of my body as it went.
“S-sweet Diarchs Lyra, what is that?” I moaned, breaking the kiss.
“Magic hooves spell.” Bon Bon supplied, glancing at her showed me that she was sprawled out on her side, head supported on her left hoof. Her right hoof was nowhere to be seen.
“My pride and joy.” Lyra added proudly. Now that I bothered to use all my senses I could feel the low-frequency magic she was emitting. “It lets me play my lovers like I play my harp.”
“You can play me anytime.” I said, pulling her back into a kiss as her hoof came up and went back to the same spot, filling me with slow moving warmth. I was way too distracted to even try mimicking that in the heat of the moment, but I knew plenty about Lyra’s nuts and bolts and I started putting it to use.
The insides of her forelegs were a huge turn on for her, so I traced nonsense patterns up and down her available foreleg and what I could reach of her flanks as she methodically melted me from the inside out. I also paid extra attention to her lips as we kissed, suckling on them individually and running my tongue over them gently but thoroughly. I could taste a bare whisper of the whiskey she’d consumed earlier, which added another dimension to the already enjoyable kiss.
Lyra’s hoof trailed down my jawline from its starting place under my ear, bringing that delicious warmth with it. I could feel all the branching nerves in my head as she steadily ramped up the volume of magic she channeled into the spell. I felt like I was wearing a heated butterfly net, at first I was afraid it was somehow synergizing with the alcohol I’d had and was making me drunk, but the room didn’t start to spin, and I didn’t pass out, instead I just got warmer and warmer.
As the warmth spread through my body any nervousness I had felt burned away and was quickly replaced by a smoldering sort of excitement. I could feel the motions of her lips acutely as she stepped up the intensity, my skin became hypersensitive and each tiny motion she made set me tingling. My heart thudded against my ribs in a galloping percussion and the sound of rushing blood underscored the wet noises of the passionate lip lock. Unfortunately we had gotten to the point that we had to take frequent breaks for air, as our blood was well and truly up and if her heart was pounding half as fast as mine was she was getting one of the better cardio workouts of her life. During one of those frustrating breaks a soft moan sounded off to one side and I turned to see Bon Bon blatantly clopping, her hoof working hard between her hind legs and a big smile on her face.
“What?” She asked when I gave her a surprised look. She didn’t bother to stop while she talked. “You two put on a good show.”
“Voyeur.” Lyra accused gleefully.
“Yes, I am…Well don’t stop, keep going. Things were just getting good.”
“She’s got a point.” Lyra said, turning back to me. “Now why don’t we-EEEP!” Lyra twitched bodily as I took a chance and licked her horn. Her magic sparked wildly and my tongue tingled like it had fallen asleep. “O-oh, wow Beaker, give a mare a little warning before you do that.”
“Did it hurt?” I asked, thankful that the tingling didn’t last long.
“N-no, it was…intense. Intense but good.” Her eyes were a bit glazed over and she was smiling.
“Want me to do it again?”
“Oh buck yes.”
So I did. This time her magic didn’t spark so badly and I didn’t get a tingly tongue for my efforts. What I did get was a very vocal mare. I licked her horn from base to tip in one smooth, steady motion, enjoying the spastic moaning along the way. Her horn, like all unicorns’, had a spiraled groove to it and I quickly hit on the game of tracing a single line of the groove as far as I could. Lyra twitched and whimpered as made my way from base to tip slowly and methodically, and knowing that I was making her feel that good gave me a massive boost of self-esteem. The magic that was flowing through her horn had a subtle flavor all its own, one that only another unicorn could taste. It felt sort of like licking sunshine, a warming energy that seeped into my tongue and reminded me vaguely of heated daffodils.
Once I was bored with tracing the grooves I focused on her tip for a while, taking some time to explore the point with my tongue. It wasn’t sharp at all, but it was the thinnest point of the horn and thus where the highest concentration of magical 'nerve endings' would be. Softly kissing it made her hiss a breath through clenched teeth and wrapping my lips around it made her gasp explosively. I had to fight down a smile as I ever so delicately sucked on the very tip. Doing this kind of thing has rather obvious phallic implications, and even though I've always been decidedly more interested in mares than stallions the appeal made sense to me. Using your mouth to please somepony is extremely intimate, particularly if you're using it on their intimate bits...
“S-stop, stop.” She rasped. I backed off, though I didn’t want to. When I saw her eyes they were completely glassy, and that combined with the smell she was giving off gave me a pretty good insight into how she was feeling. “Wow, for a newbie you’re good at that Beaker.” She praised, slurring her hard consonants a bit. “I’m about ready to take this all the way, you ready Liger?”
“Yeah.” I responded eagerly. I’d had to shift myself partially onto my side a few seconds before when I’d gotten too hard to comfortably lie on my belly.
Lyra got up a little unsteadily and carefully backed partially off the bed, raising her tail in a clear invitation. Instinct took over as I quickly moved behind her, my heart fluttering in the midst of its pounding as I prepared to go all the way for the first time. I was rock hard and leaking a bit of fluid already as I got into position. Lyra’s scent hit me like a rampaging Ursa and I had to resist the base impulse to just jump on top of her and start bucking. I retained enough control to carefully rear up and place my hooves on either side of her before scooting into what I hoped was a good position. When I looked up to see if Lyra was ready I found myself staring at Bon Bon’s exposed marehood. She had moved in front of Lyra into what I assumed was a well-practiced position.
“Ready?” I asked. My hips were trembling with the urge to start, but I kept myself in check, if only barely.
“Yeah, I’ll guide you in.” Lyra’s voice was full of barely restrained glee as her horn lit up and I felt gentle telekinesis frame my erection. “Just go slow at first.”
“Alright.” I slowly pushed forward reveling in the perfect clarity of the moment. The sound of Bon Bon and Lyra’s panting, the sight of them laid out in front of me, the mind-warpingly powerful smell they were putting off, the residual taste of magic from Lyra’s horn, and the indescribably feeling of her warm, moist flesh at the tip of my member as I prepared to enter her was all indelibly marked into my memory.
I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped my lips as I slowly hilted myself inside her. Her entrance felt infinitely better than my hooves and I almost finished right then and there, but I was able to keep myself under control by pausing once I was in as far as I could go.
Bon Bon, apparently impatient for things to begin, let out a needy moan as I waited to try and regain some more control. Lyra didn’t keep her waiting. Her head moved under Bon Bon’s raised tail and if the slight movement I saw and the sounds Bon Bon made were any indication the confectioner was having the time of her life. I wished I could get a better view of what was going on between the two mares, but Lyra shifted her hips up and back before that train of thought could go much further, goading me.
Gritting my teeth and fighting off the base instincts that were screaming at me I went slowly, pumping in and out carefully so I wouldn’t accidentally slip out or poke her too hard. The feeling was both like and unlike I how had always imagined it would be , and it turned out to be more complicated than just bucking my hips, but I was still enjoying myself immensely.
“You can go faster Beaker.” Lyra said, taking a break from Bon Bon’s hindquarters, much to the other mare’s frustration.
“O-okay.” I panted, picking up the pace a bit while Lyra went back to Bon Bon.
As I started going faster I noticed my control slipping and my instincts taking over, a vicious cycle that had me rutting Lyra hard not long after it started. My nostrils flared as the scent of sex and the pleasure got to me, and I lost any semblance of control I had left. I bent down and bit Lyra’s neck at the base of her mane, soliciting a body wide shiver as I tapped into her own primal responses. I could taste the salty tang of sweat on her skin underneath her coat, and I may have accidentally nipped her hard on a particularly vigorous stroke, but she didn't seem to mind at all.
Her horn started to glow with a flickering amber light and I would have licked it if she hadn’t been so occupied with Bon Bon and thus out of my reach. Regardless I continued my efforts, trying to prolong the experience as much as possible. Unfortunately, I quickly reached a familiar plateau and despite my efforts to control it I climaxed with a guttural grunt and a flare of my teal colored magic, releasing her neck and hilting myself in her tunnel, filling her with my fluid.
A shock of magic flooded my system and I actually saw flashes of light and color reminiscent of my horn job experience a few minutes prior. My entire magical circulatory system kicked into overdrive for those few short beautiful seconds before settling down to a slower flow, busting a half dozen harmonic kinks I hadn’t even realized I’d acquired and leaving my body feeling loose and relaxed like I’d just gone for a long run minus the muscle fatigue and general malaise that came with heavy exercise.
After the intense rapture passed I stayed in place, shivering slightly as her tunnel contracted sporadically, squeezing residual seed out of my shaft. As I regained control of myself I felt increasingly guilty. I had lasted all of forty five seconds, and a third of that was spent stationary. Not exactly stellar.
Dismounting was a bit awkward, but even more than that was the seemingly ever-present question what did I do next? Lyra was still very much occupied with Bon Bon and I couldn’t interrupt them, but I didn’t want to just stand there and watch either. It wouldn’t be fair to Lyra unless I at least tried to help her out, so after a few moments of lip biting I decided to try something I’d read about in an ‘educational’ book once.
Her tail was still raised and her marehood was visible, still leaking a little of my fluid in fact. Ignoring that as best I could I lit up my horn and started carefully exploring her engorged flesh, using telekinetic feelers to stroke her inflamed lower lips hoping to draw a positive reaction. A muffled moan sounded from her as I began my tentative caressing, followed shortly by a more direct expression of approval.
“Yes, that’s good Beaker. Don’t stop!” She panted, throwing me a (rather wet) smirk before returning to her previous activity.
Smiling at the praise I kept at it, methodically experimenting with different levels of intensity and speed and deciphering the sounds she made as best I could. Eventually I settled on circling the nub at the top of her entrance and gently stroking it occasionally. That garnered the best vocal responses and the way her hind legs started to tremble had to be a good sign.
Using years of experience in delicate telekinesis in high stress situations I kept stroking her as I moved up to her flank and laid a kiss on her Cutie Mark, channeling a little extra magic into my lips to give it a little extra zip. Between that and the bio-magical sensitivity of Cutie Marks in general I just about made her jump out of her skin. A startled grunt followed by a pleased moan issued from her and she shifted her body closer to me. Seeing how much she liked it, I stepped things up, ignoring the tingling that was affecting me as much as it was her. First I stuck to kissing her flank softly but eventually I started tracing the curves of her harp shaped Cutie Mark with my tongue and accentuating the more stylized bits of it with a gentle nip, much to her muffled approval.
It took a few minutes, but my efforts paid off. The room flared with golden light as Lyra’s horn lit up and a low, quivering moan escaped her, signaling her climax. As close as I was to her, I could feel her own magic undergoing the same process mine had and timed my kisses (and strokes) with the rhythmic surges of energy flowing through her body.
“Damn Beaker.” She said after a few moments. She was sporting a satisfied yet lecherous grin and her eyes seemed to be having difficulty focusing on me. “You did a hay of a job, ‘specially for a first-timer. Can’t wait until you’ve got some experience, I bet you’ll have me howling-”
“Lyra!” Bon Bon whined pathetically. “I was close!”
“Bon Bon now, talk later.” I chuckled in response to the creamy mare’s plea.
I hopped up on the bed then, letting Lyra take a break to catch her breath, and settled myself in front of Bon Bon, catching the sweaty mare’s glassy eyes followed soon by her lips. She didn’t have the magical circuitry a unicorn did, so I couldn’t do much in the way of direct magical stimulation, but I could always cheat and use telekinesis in ways that would have had my teachers blushing.
Running tentacle-like feelers of telekinetic force down her spine garnered a pleased hum from her, though it was hard to discern underneath the noisy kissing. I naturally gravitated to the area underneath her tail, but I was hesitant to actually start ‘touching’ her there since Lyra was going to be doing that soon enough and I didn’t want to do something like that without direct line of sight to start off with. Thankfully Lyra caught her breath quickly and I hadn’t done much more than tease Bon Bon before the mint colored mare was back at it, causing Lyra to make some very interesting sounds into our kiss.
As Lyra worked Bon Bon over I redirected my telekinetic feelers to her Cutie Mark and my hooves to her neck. I lightly stroked both, multitasking with the practiced ease of a professional bartender. Bon Bon whimpered and squeaked delightfully as Lyra and I double-teamed her, and even though she had to take frequent breaks from our kissing just to breathe I didn’t really mind, the huge smile on her face and the raw lust burning in her eyes was more than worth it and the raw passion of the kissing was exquisite.
I wasn’t really surprised when her whole body shook and she let out a throaty moan a few minutes after Lyra and I started, but the look of rapturous relief on her face was very telling, as was the way she slumped down on the bed, exhausted and heaving for breath…not that Lyra or I were any better.
“So Bons,” Lyra chuckled between gasps. “Fun?”
“Oh yeeees.” The normally reserved confectioner replied, stretching languorously and flopping onto her side, limp as a wet noodle. “Maybe next time-” She had to pause for breath. “I could be the one in the middle.”
“I didn’t expect to hear that from you.” I added, smiling.
“She represses her desires a lot, poor thing.” Lyra said, nodding sagely. “It’s only natural for things like that to slip out in the heat of the moment…Now, if she were to relax and express her sexual side…” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, earning herself a pillow to the face.
“I am not turning into you. I have a sense of decorum."
“And that comforts me.” I said, feeling quite tired since the hormone rush ended. I had to fight back a yawn before I could finish what I wanted to say. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m exhausted. Can we go to sleep now?”
“What? No round two?” Lyra asked, obviously disappointed.
“Do you want one?” I asked dubiously. I might have been able to go again, but between the adrenaline crash and the alcohol in my bloodstream I was having increasing trouble just keeping my eyes open.
“I’m tired too Lyra. We’ll have more time tomorrow if you want to go again, but I agree with Beaker. Sleep now, sex later.”
“Fine fine.” Lyra sighed. “C’mon Beaker, move a bit so I can get the blanket.”
I did as I was told and hopped off the bed so Lyra could lift up the blankets. Bon Bon did the same, though with great reluctance. When all was ready I gratefully crawled under the covers and, after some quick but awkward shuffling on Lyra’s part, found myself lying on my belly between my herdmates, both of whom were sprawled out on their sides. Unfortunately, Lyra wouldn’t stop giggling to herself, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep until she stopped, so I took the bait in the interest of sweet sweet slumber.
“What’s so funny Lyra?”
“Stallion sandwhich…” She giggled again and pressed herself against me, audibly self-satisfied.
“Shut up and sleep Lyra.” Apparently Bon Bon wanted to sleep as much as I did.
“’Night Bons.” Lyra chuckled. Then she gave me a warm kiss on the cheek and whispered in my ear. “Love ya Beaker…good to finally have you in the herd.”
“I love you too Lyra.” I whispered back, nuzzling her and getting a soft kiss in return. “Love you Bon Bon.”
“Love you too. Sleep well.”
And with that round of sappy well-wishes completed, we drifted off to Luna’s province, exhausted but satisfied, and very much looking forward to our future together.