I knew it was going to be another one of those Saturday nights when you stormed into the house, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out the familiar bottle.
“Really, Dad?!”
I sit next to you, slamming my hooves onto the counter and looking you over. Your coat seemed faded from it’s normal powder purple shade, yellow eyes puffy and reddened, multicolored mane in complete disarray, your mouth open as you pulled in shaky breaths which already smelled of alcohol. You’d been crying again. You couldn’t get over her again. It was like every single time you tried, it didn’t work. It never worked. It never brought her back, and you never forgot about her.
“Dashie-”
“Don’t Dashie me, Dad! You can’t do this every Saturday night!”
You gave a small, humorless chuckle, the hated liquid in the bottle swishing as you swung it up and over into your mouth, then letting out a sigh as you slammed it back into the counter. “That’s why I don’t, sweetie.”
“Then why do it every other one?! Why don’t you ever talk to me about it?” I huffed, turning towards you with my hooves on the table.
“You wouldn’t get it, Dashie,” you muttered, taking another swig, but as the bottle touched your lips, I raised a hoof and pushed it down, keeping the acrid alcohol from reaching your mouth. I ignored your grunts of frustration, matching them with ones of my own.
“How do you know that? I miss her too, but you don’t see me destroying myself!”
You gave up, the bottle tapping against the counter as you let it down, turning away and gritting your teeth.
“Go away, hon...”
“No.”
“Go away,” you growled dangerously, but I didn’t.
I stayed there, looking into those yellow, bloodshot irises of yours, wishing there was a way I could help you right then and there, but it just wasn’t meant to be. All I had was the same anger and frustration, all pointed at you, stupid you who couldn’t get over that stupid mare, that stupid mare that left us both with broken hearts. At least I tried to get over her. You didn’t even bother.
“No.”
You sigh.
“Dashie, please. I just want to be left alone for a bit, okay?”
“It won’t work! It never works!” I cried, with an equal mixture of pleading and anger.
“You don’t get it-”
“I do fucking get it! You’re a stupid fucking drunk!”
The dangerous look on your face glowed, your eyes widening and your nostrils flaring, tempers running high for the both of us.
“Watch your mouth, little lady,” you said, your voice in a dangerously low tone.
“At least I don’t fill it with booze,” I counter.
You took another swig, this time too quick for me to stop you, then wiped your mouth with a hoof as you pull the bottle away. “What goes in ain’t what comes out, darlin’.”
“Bullshit! Have you even smelt your breath lately?! You might sober up, but the smell doesn’t go away!...”
We went back and forth with the quips, the insults, the downright personal attacks, every hurtful word generating hurtful words back, and it seemed to go on for hours, like many of our arguments did. I was an ornery teenager tired of your bullshit, and you were a drunk that just wanted to be left alone and back with his wife at the same time, conflicting emotions running high between us.
Then things came to a head. You said something about my grades, about my work ethic, and I responded with the bombshell.
You didn’t deserve it. I knew that. But I said it anyways.
“If you weren’t such a prick, maybe Mom’d still be here!”
You went quiet, your eyes widening, and then they closed, your head slumping to the table, into your hooves. I listened closely, hearing those soft sobs as those hurtful words dug deeper into your skin, and a knot grew into my stomach. I tried to apologize- “Dad, I’m sorry”- but you cut me off with a shout and a swat of a hoof.
“Piss off!”
“...F-Fuck you, Dad,” I growled, turning away and abandoning you, just like she did. I stormed up the stairs, small poofs of dust and loud smacks of hoof against wood all the way, thumps following me as I made my way to my bedroom door, pushing it violently open and slamming it behind me, as I flew into bed as quickly as I could and started bawling my eyes out.
I cried because I loved you, at least, I think that was why, but maybe I cried because I missed Mom too. It was hard to lose her. She was my inspiration, she continues to be my inspiration, and she was your muse, your shining star, and we both lost her. It seemed so easy, really. I never thought it would have happened, and obviously, neither did you. Nopony did.
She was too perfect. She was too great for either of us. And then she was gone, gone, the imperfections we didn’t see ending things too soon. You were mad, at first, but now...
Now she had made you hollow. You always thought she’d come back to you, you always thought she was perfect for you and vice versa. Maybe you had made a mistake. Maybe she wasn’t so perfect. Or maybe you weren’t.
Moonlight shone into my room. That’s what it was like, late at night, the moon rising over your side of the house, and falling over mine. You missed her so much, and I had cursed you for it. It wasn’t fair to you or to myself. My pillow was wet with tears of guilt and anger. It never worked. I could never sober you up. The only ponies that sobered up were ponies that wanted to sober up, and you didn’t.
Maybe Mom was gone, yes, but you still believed in her. You still loved her. You married her, after all, and you parted too soon. She parted too soon, and I couldn’t blame you, nopony could blame you, for no matter what you did, no matter how far you threw yourself into your work, no matter how much time you spent out in bars, no matter how strong the whiskey, you couldn’t forget her.
It wasn’t right. You had every right to forget all about her, you had every right to move on.
And that’s when I got the idea.
I had a terrible, horrible, awful idea, but at the time, it seemed great. You were drunk, it was dark on your side of the house, and you had always told me how much I reminded you of Mom...
Who said I couldn’t be her? Who said I couldn’t be her and tell you to move on? That’s all I wanted you to do, of course. I wanted you to move on. This... This was the way to do it. I knew it would be. I’d sneak into your room, tell you I was mom, tell you to forget about me and move on with your life, and sneak out. It was perfect, so perfect, and I didn’t have a better idea.
It made sense. No amount of Alcoholic’s Anonymous bullshit was going to pull you through. You had no friends, only a bottle to keep you company, and I couldn’t get you sobered up myself. It was perfect. I looked over at my desk clock. It was eleven PM, you’d had already stumbled up to bed after you yelled at me, after I yelled at you, after I said what wasn’t fair to you...
Maybe what I said to you wasn’t fair. You deserved an apology anyways. And this was a roundabout apology in a way.
The moonlight was bright enough to let me see, as if guiding me in my purpose, in my obligation that I had seen fit to absorb, giving me the sight to hop out of bed ever so softly. I didn’t usually do anything softly- that was more Fluttershy’s strong suit. But here, stealth was a necessity. If you woke up, and a pegasus went into your room...
I got an inkling that the door would have been suspicious as I left my own room and went into the hallway, a cool breeze fluttering through the passageway. I got another inkling that I could use your window, since you always left it open on these summer nights anyways. It was the stealthiest way to get in, the sneakiest way to begin a benign deception.
The heavy, stomping hooffalls of when I had come up the stairs were not repeated. I floated gently down them, landing silently upon the first floor, and moving as quickly and silently as I could out the door.
The yard was bathed in Luna’s light, the grass and hedges recently cut, and the fresh, damp smell of wet grass filled my nose. A quick trot later and I was under your window. A small jump and some beating wings later, and I was leaning on the outside of the windowsill.
Your pathetic, barely-cognizant form was surrounded by a blanket of complete darkness. Wordlessly, I stepped into the room, still soft, but now, with excitement pouring through my veins, my shivering legs bringing me closer to you, to your bedside, my hooves barely able to hold me up.
Which was why I collapsed as you tackled me.
You stood over me, breathing heavily, breathing whiskey and anger right into my face, holding me down with surprising strength, hooves painfully pressing into my wings.
“You picked the wrong house to burgle, prick,” you mutter, your words slurred through gritted teeth. I pushed against your chest, trying to get you off, trying to remember to emulate what little of that voice I could remember.
“Prism! Prism, please, it’s me, stop...”
There was a name she used for you. I tried to remember it, so desperately, adrenaline cutting off my ability to think, think, dammit, you were raising up a hoof, you were going to strike, I remembered it.
“Prissy! Prissy, it’s me!”
There was a small moment then and there, between us, you breathing heavily, the hoof slowly falling. It was too dark to see, but I knew the shocked expression on your face. You knew you had to say it. There was so much to say, but the first thing you needed was confirmation.
“...Firefly?”
I nodded, then, realizing you could barely see it, I said it.
“Yes, Prissy, it’s m-”
You cut me off with a kiss.
My eyes opened wide with surprise, which I knew was something you couldn’t see, and I blanked. I’d never been kissed before. Well, I got little pecks on the lips from dates, but this was a kiss, this was a real kiss, something passionate and lustful and ever-so-slightly alcohol-fueled, your judgement clouded, and what little cognizance you had devoted to this passionate embrace. I liked it. That was the weirdest thing. Every cell in my brain told me to pull away, to stop, to tell you the truth, but there was just one that told me to keep going, to fall into the role more. I decided on doing it because it made my performance believable.
We pulled away after what must have been an eternity, and even though it was dark, I knew you were looking into my eyes.
“It’s you,” you slurred simply.
“Y-Yeah, it’s me...”
More kissing. Your mouth tasted like whiskey, which wasn’t really... Bad. I’d tasted worse. You had enough presence of mind to slip your tongue into my mouth, and they slid against each other. We tasted everything, me slipping my own muscle into your cheek, sliding up and down the soft flesh in there, your tongue, with less control, haphazardly feeling up the roof of my mouth. Another eternity passed, and this time, I closed my eyes and rested my head on the carpet, breathing heavily.
“W... Wow. You must have... Really missed me.”
“More than you’d ever believe, baby,” you mutter, giving my neck a small peck, and then the base of my neck, and then my chest...
I snapped out of the niceness of it all, tapping your shoulder with a hoof. Whoa. You weren’t kidding.
“What are you doing?!”
You grunt, kissing around one of the nubs on my chest, and I couldn’t help but let out a moan. You must have had good muscle memory or something, or you obsessed over Mom enough to know what made her tick, and I couldn’t help but admit, it was making me tick too. But it was wrong, oh, so wrong, I needed to stop you...
“I thought you loved this, hun,” you murmur. “Has it been that long?...”
I bite my lip. I shouldn’t let this happen. I really shouldn’t. You were my dad. If you knew it was me... You’d stop.
And I hated to admit it, I didn’t want you to stop. And as long as it made you believe I was who I claimed to be, I’d roll with it. Just let you... Let you nibble on me and stuff, right? It wasn’t really sex...
I just held you closer and kissed the top of your head, keeping in character.
“Y-yeah,” I whisper, giving your ear a small lick, the passion still running high You chuckle, your response wordless, just licking down, past my belly, towards...
“A-Are you going to-”
“Mmmhmm... You always loved it when I ate your pussy,” you growl, playfully licking around the inside of my thigh, oh Goddess, why are my legs open, I should close them, but it’s too late, we’ve gone too far, might as well get it over with.
“I... Okay...”
I was a shivering wreck. As much as I tried to deny it, your foreplay was masterful, and even when you were drunk, the feeling, the texture, it just drove me absolutely insane. There was a small, dirty part of me that really wanted this, and she was going to be quenched tonight whether I liked it or not.
Then you licked me there.
It was the weirdest feeling. Your tongue was hot, wet, and rough, not like sandpaper, but more like a hoofball, this weird sort of meaty texture to the whole thing, and it was running up my slit and just barely flicking my clit. I couldn’t help but let out the littlest of moans, and that seemed to egg you on a little bit, since you gave me another long, luscious lick.
“Mmmgh, missed this pussy, baby,” you mutter slowly, licking your lips and going in for another one.
It drove me insane how you’d stop every time you’d almost reached my clit. I hate to admit it, but it was almost disappointing. I wanted to feel you lick it, taste it, even nibble it, my brain split into two, saying yes and no at the same time, good Goddess, you were driving me insane, I wanted you to stop and go further...
Another lick. I sighed.
Then you dug in, and it all changed.
You just dug right in, rough, warm tongue tracing around my nether lips, shaky, alcohol-laden hooves held against my cutie marks. Your tongue was clumsy, slathering spit across my soaking marehood, slipping inside and haphazardly taking in what of my flowing juices it could, but it was the clumsiness and the messiness of your performance that made it so much more intoxicating. You loved me so much, you were willing to contribute what little control you had to this intimacy, you wanted to demonstrate your passion through the haze.
Somehow, realizing that, realizing how much you wanted to be back with your wife again, and how you were willing to accept that she was back, so desperately, not even knowing it was me... Somehow, knowing that made everything hotter, making me a moaning, squeaking, dripping mess on top of you.
It was electric, my hair standing on end as if I was standing in the middle of a thunderstorm. Everything that could have possibly told me inside that it was wrong evaporated, because in that moment, it wasn’t. You were my husband, I was your wife, we loved each other, we loved each other so much. All we wanted to do was explore each other, as if we were young again, and maybe, in that moment, we were.
This was getting crazy, this was going too far. You finally were paying attention to my clit, your upper lip slipped over it as you licked out my little cunny as if it was your right. As far as you knew, it was. Yes, it was getting crazy, but with my eyes closed and my breaths getting shorter and shorter as you drove me closer and closer to climax, maybe crazy wasn’t a bad thing. I tried to warn you, I did, but it didn’t come out so coherently.
“Pri-Prissssmmm... Aaah...”
I wanted to tell you to stop, to tell you to let me think for a moment, but you didn’t let up. No, you lambasted that poor, tortured young cunny with licking, sucking, gentle nipping, you didn’t stop, you didn’t let me think, and I was teetering on the edge, trying desperately not to cum. I don’t know why. I really don’t. I was loving every second of your attentions, every lick and nibble and tease, and it was too much, just too much...
“Priiiissyyyy!”
I exploded, my marehood firing girl juice all over your drunken face, and you closed your sunken-in eyes and let me fire blast after blast over you. The flow of girlcum was just the visual. You should have felt it, wave after typhoon wave of pleasure smashing into my mind, sending me spazzing, writhing about in helpless climax. I’d never felt this before. Usually I’d just roll around a bit after I rubbed one off. This was the most intense feeling I’d ever experienced, and it was all thanks to you.
I finally stopped moving, out of breath, gasping for air that never came, you licking your lips, looking up, and in what little light there was, maybe you saw my half-lidded eyes as I laid there, my mind abuzz with activity. That was so good, oh sweet Celestia, but it shouldn’t have happened, I should stop this, I should push you off, oh Goddess, but, but I want to see where this is going to go...
It was as if cumming had only piqued my interest in you further. It was wrong. It shouldn’t have been happening. I wanted out of it and further into it at the same time. I hungered for more and pleaded for it to stop. This was never supposed to happen, I was just supposed to tell you to move on, but then this happened and we’re having sex oh Goddess we’re having sex, and it was amazing.
I didn’t want it to stop, and apparently, neither did you, resting your head on my thigh, breathing heavily on my still-sensitive nethers. You nipped me there, pulling your head away, and lifting me up into your hooves, making me squeak with surprise.
“Lessgo... To bed,” you said, with a drunken chuckle, wobbling on your rear hooves.
“Pr... Prism, I just wanna talk-”
You grunted. “We have all night to talk. I missed you... So much...”
“I-It’s-”
You kissed me again, shushing me and drowning my protests down with pure, passionate, alcohol-laden lust, and I was enjoying it, I was getting into your attentions, but you pulled away too soon, and I fell upon something soft with another small eep.
“Don’t talk, babe,” you mumble. “Let’s just enjoy this while it lasts.”
I mumble your name, still a bit frazzled. I knew I reminded you of Mom, but I didn’t know it was this strong. I didn’t know we shared the same weak spots, we had a similar tone of voice that, through your alcohol-laden brain cells, seemed the same enough to fool you. Even my mane was sort of like hers, I guess. It wasn’t that this wasn’t working, it was that it was working too well, and for some reason, I didn’t really see that as a bad thing.
It wasn’t your fault. It was the alcohol, and the love in the air, and both of us in your bed, and it was dark, and, as far as you knew, I was your wife. I had come back for you. We missed each other for so long. You were a poor, handsome, lonely stallion waiting for his lustful lover. That was me, and that wasn’t me all at the same time.
You didn’t know, Dad. I don’t blame you.
Then something spongy hit my nose, and I gasped, breaking out of this... This trance you put me under. This was wrong. We had to stop now.
“I helped you, you help me. It’s... Fair, and... Yeah...”
I couldn’t help myself. I wanted you just as badly as you had wanted me, or at least, you wanted what you thought wasn’t me. It broke my heart to lie to you, but it made you so happy. In the end, as long as you believed that the young, bountiful mare licking your shaft from base to tip, slipping the head into her mouth, humming and moaning wantonly like she was a whore, practiced motions made perfect in that moment, as long as you believed it was her, it was her. It was Firefly. I was your wife, then and there.
Maybe I had a purpose here before that wasn’t sex, I thought through the hormonal haze filling up my brain as I suckled gently on the very tip of your cock. It was so warm, and thick, and that musky taste of it was divine, the markings of a good working pony, sweat and piss and abstinence, all the frustrations of that week went into the bottle and into this. I bobbed my head on top of your cock, suckling gently, pulling away all the pain and loneliness, and if I had to be your wife to do it, so be it. It made us both happy, it made us forget and remember at the same time.
So fuck that purpose was my conclusion. I was going to make you happy whether I liked it or not.
You laid a hoof gently on the back of my head, and I knew what you wanted. My eyes opened wide, and I pulled off. Dammit, common sense, why couldn’t you let me have my moment? You looked down, and even though it was dark, I could tell that you had a somewhat confused expression on your face. I needed an excuse, and fast.
“Pr-Prissy, I... It’s been a while, okay? S-So go easy...”
“Course,” you murmur, and you press your length into my mouth again.
I looked up at you with half-lidded eyes, not that you would have noticed it in the darkness. Your length went deeper, and deeper, and deeper into my mouth, and I had to swallow the gagging down as it drove into my throat, long, throbbing, I could smell the sweat and the musk from your fur, just a few more inches, my throat felt like it was going to burst. I had to pull off and catch my breath, but you didn’t seem to mind, you hissing through your teeth as the oddly pleasurable feeling of cool air over what I could get into my throat filled your brain’s handicapped power.
I started going back down again, a bit faster this time, I wanted it all this time, and I got it all this time. I couldn’t help but let out a moan when my snout reached your belly. My nostrils sucked in a massive breath, and I sighed over you. If the moaning and the occasional swears from up above were any indication, you were loving this, my tongue sticking out of my mouth and slipping and sliding around the base of your dick, as I pulled and pushed you in and out, fucking my own throat on you. My hooves wandered over my own body, and I shivered as they found their target, as they roamed around my saliva-slicked, leaking marehood, good Goddess, I’d never been this dirty before...
I just closed my eyes and time disappeared.
All existence was was slurping and sucking, humming and moaning, swears and my name, no, Mom’s name, muttered to the ceiling. This was right. This was a wife helping her husband through tough times, not a lusty pretender of a daughter risking her relationship to make him feel better. I couldn’t taste the beer anymore, I had forgotten you were even drunk, I had forgotten why I was even here, everything was musk and piss and pre. I sped up when I tasted it, my snout bumping against your gut again and again with a light plap noise, plap plap plap plap plap...
“Fff... Baby, I’m gonna...”
Something primal had awakened in me. I knew you were close, and I wanted to taste it, I wanted to drown in your cum. I had a hoof slithering against my slit, making me shiver and moan into that glorious giant of a dick again, and that was about all you could take.
You grunted, and with that, you exploded, warm, bittersweet, vicious goo firing down my throat, filling up my stomach, and I gulped impulsively. How long had it been, Dad, since you’d last done... That? Because there was so much of it, too much, it slowly forced me off of your length, you still firing into my mouth, and as I pulled off, coughing and spluttering, you fired off a few more shots, before the last pulse of it became a dribble down your cock.
You flopped down next to me, and held me close, sniffing into my mane, your breath a tepid cocktail of filly juices and whiskey, your eyes closed, but your appearance ragged enough to suggest the restlessness of alcoholism.
“You okay, hun?” you asked, noticing how I was still gasping for air.
“Y-Yeah, just... I said go easy.”
Your ears drooped back. “I’m sorry, baby, I got carried away... Wasn’t your best, but I loved it, and I love you, and... And... Mmk...”
I looked down.
Sweet fucking Luna, you were still hard after that. You were long, and thick, and wonderful, and dammit, dammit, this wasn’t going to get that far! I never let it get that far. Ever. Not a one coltfriend had ever gotten anything more then a little bit of licking, and I... I wanted this. I hated to admit it, but I wanted this, I wanted you. It was the weirdest thing I’d ever felt and I only wanted more. You were my dad, and you were a lonely, horny stallion, to leave you like that would be a shame, and really, you deserved me, you’d raised me all these years with Mom gone, and you were going to get a reward for that. A real reward.
We shared a moan as your sensitive length slipped underneath me, my excited slit slathering wetness upon your entire thickness. You murmured something, loosely wrapping your hooves around my waist, and I could feel your eyes bore into mine, bloodshot from booze and tears, the sad tears of a few minutes ago and the happy tears of now, the tears of us, together again, at long last, about to join together.
“I love you, Prism Bolt,” I whispered, my nose pressed against yours.
“Love you... Too,” you hum.
You slip the tip in the first few inches, but you’re soon stopped, pressing against my hymen, and the pleasure stops.
“Tighter then I remember,” you mumble.
I squeak out an affirmation. That was all I could do. It was just white noise, it hurt, stinging, aching, stabbing pain, crushing my brain into a vice, squeezing thought and reasoning out, let it be over please, let it be-
You put a little bit of force into a single thrust, and like that, you’ve ripped through my maidenhood, and it doesn’t even register to you.
When you bottomed out inside of me, I gasped. It was awful, filling up every inch of empty space inside of me, twitching occasionally, hot with lust, but it felt exactly like what it was, you jamming a part of your body into mine, pain, pain, pain, pain...
I bit my lip to keep from crying out. I was supposed to be acting like my mother, and if the noises from the bedroom in the past were any indication, she gave you plenty of experience. Sitting up, I wrapped my hooves around you, just as you get the indication to move, and, swallowing down my tears, I held myself impaled upon your length, the pain slowly pulsing away. I needed to tell you. Now.
“Pr-Prissy...”
“Mmk?”
The pain was less now. Now... Now the twitches and the heat and the filling, it all felt... Good. Now something inside me told me that this entire ordeal was destined. Mother was a necessary pain, not only to bring me, the perfect mate for you, into the world, but to make you want me, even if it was only because you wanted her. Even if it was something as lame and low as pity sex, it was the good kind of pity sex, the kind that we both wanted and needed, the kind that came as a result of our closeness, of our love.
You loved her more than me, but that was okay. As long as you fucked her, as long as you fucked me, as long as you still loved her, I would be happy, because in that moment, I wasn’t me. I was her.
I was Firefly.
“Prissy... Be gentle, okay?”
“Mmkay,” you mumble, nuzzling into her nose.
Firefly roughly shoved her mouth over yours, her tongue jamming into your mouth as she moved for you. The shlicks of your passionate lovemaking and your passionate kissing combine to form a wonderfully sick, wet symphony, light slaps of flesh against flesh as she went down on your pole again, and again, and again. She never broke the kiss, her moans muffled by your mouth. My moans, her moans, my moans.
Maybe, I wanted to be me. Maybe I should have stopped, maybe I should have confessed. But I was her, after all. I was Firefly and Rainbow Dash and all the same, I would be anypony for you. I could be anypony for you, I could put on any mask you wanted me to, just as long as you were happy, Daddy, oh Goddess, you made me... You made her happy, electric shockwaves of pleasure pulsing through her veins, every push upwards forcing a moan from her lungs, her eyes screwed shut, unable to stay open through all of the love.
This was love, Firefly was most certain of that. This was what she was being introduced to. Even if you weren’t sober, you still loved her, you still wanted her, you still needed her, and you were getting her, you were kissing and fucking and everything. It was love in it’s purest, most animalistic form, and Firefly was getting it with gusto.
You pulled out, only to roughly roll her over and slam back into her hips, making her cry out in bliss. Pain was long gone, pain wasn’t an idea practiced here, pain wasn’t a weakness anymore, it was an enhancement, it was a fuel for the pleasure that coursed through the both of us, the slick, the wet pleasure between us, a small spot of blood on the blankets going unnoticed and long forgot. You made me a mare, Dad, and you kept her a mare.
You started thrusting faster, shorter, humming and moaning, and instinctively, she knew it would be over soon. She pushed back into those thrusts, she wanted to feel you cum inside. She wanted to imagine what it would have been like if I was in heat, she wanted to imagine me still fucking you, night after night, with my own little sister growing inside of me. You were enough of a drunk and I knew enough ponies that you could say I got knocked up and that you were having a child with Firefly and you’d be none the wiser. It was a fantasy, it would never come true, but maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe...
I wasn’t sure which one of us slipped a hoof down and started playing with my clit. All I know is, it was the hardest, the strongest, the longest-feeling orgasm I’ve ever had. You didn’t pay attention to it. You were too tired, too inebriated, you were my daddy, and we were really having sex, and I was really enjoying it. And you are too. That’s the point, after all, to make you feel better about losing her, because you don’t need her, as long as you have me.
“Who’s... Your... Daddy?!”
And with that, we both let go.
Warmth met warmth, cum met cum, sinful seed shot into my snatch, so much of it, a week’s worth of it, but you were going to fall asleep in a few minutes anyways, and I was out of breath and we were cumming and it’s amazing, I imagined it flooding into my womb, overfilling it and flowing out over your own crotch, my own juices already spraying out over you, it was good, so good, I’d died and gone to heaven, oh Goddess, I’d died and gone to heaven with Daddy, and we’re fucking and it’s wonderful and he doesn’t even know it’s me.
My eyes were screwed shut, and I slowly forced them open and looked down. It wasn’t the torrential flood I imagine, but that small trickle of pearly pink down your mottled length is enough to make me moan one last time, before I flop down onto the bed, and you flopped on top of me, an out-of-breath, sweaty mess, panting, the both of us. We were silent for a moment, enjoying the darkness, the breathing, the afterglow, and you’re falling asleep. With my head on your chest, I can hear your heartbeat, and it’s slow, so slow, so relaxed.
“I missed you,” you say, nuzzling into my neck.
I’m speechless, exhausted, it worked too well, it worked too well, oh Goddess what have I done, oh Goddess what have I done.
“Missed you too,” I say, absently. Oh Goddess, I ruined him, I ruined myself, oh Goddess, oh Goddess, why, I got caught up in the moment, oh Goddess.
“Now,” you say, ‘You wanted... To talk?”
I clear my throat, forcing down the tears, remembering why I came here.
“You drink too much.”
“Mmmgh?”
“Yeah.”
You’re quiet for a moment, and I’m afraid you’ve fallen asleep.
“...Yeah, I do. I’m sorry, Firefly, I...”
I put a hoof against your lips.
“Just promise me you’ll sober up now? Now that I’m... I’m back?”
More quiet. Then, silently, you nodded.
“Mmmh... Dashie’s been trying to get me to sober up...”
“I know, Da- Prism. Prism, listen to her from now on, okay? You have to move on from me.”
“Hm?”
Tears formed up in my eyes. I just wanted this to be over.
“You have to let go of me, Prism.”
“But...”
“Prism. Please. I’m not in your life anymore. Please don’t dwell on the past. Live for the future.”
“But baby-”
“No buts,” I croak. “Just... Please. Stop drinking. Forget about me. Find somepony new.”
You said nothing in response, just looking at me strangely, before you shake your head and go in for another kiss. The taste of alcohol was weaker, and I could hear your breath coming in more shakily as you pull away.
“I just miss you, and you come back, and you... You don’t want me anymore?”
Your voice started to crack, the tears flowing from your eyes, and I hold you close, shushing you, even though you try pulling away.
“I... I didn’t say I was gonna stay, Prissy...”
“But you... I love you, baby, why...”
I ran a hoof along your cheek, shushing you.
“I love you too. That’s why I want you to actually get better, instead of... This. The drinking, the... The being pent up... Prissy-”
“No. I want you to stay.”
You started to push into me, harder, making me grunt, and I rolled you over, turning the tables and holding you down.
“Why can’t you stay?!”
“Because I can’t, Prissy. Because if I stay, you might not like what you see in the morning. Okay?!”
You start sobbing, and I sigh, nuzzling into your neck, trying to calm you down, trying to get you to see, you didn’t need me, you didn’t need her.
“I promise, I’ll come back, you just have to get your life back on track. Okay?”
“B-But...”
I put a hoof against your lips again. “Promise me you’ll turn your life around. Promise me, and I promise you... I promise you everything. Please...”
There was a moment of pregnant silence.
“...Okay.”
“Okay?” I ask, a bit too hopefully. You sigh, and hold me tight, very, very tight, almost squeezing the air out of me.
“Yeah, but you... You better deliver, okay?”
I smile, give you one last kiss on the cheek, and turn over, lying back and letting you be the big spoon over me, breathing in my mane and holding me close around my chest, and for some reason, I felt my tears evaporating, and for a moment, I thought that this... That being your lover, maybe I’d like it, but I knew it wasn’t meant to be. You loom over me and give me a small peck on the cheek, sniffling slightly.
“I love you, Firefly,” you mumble.
You fell asleep a little while afterwards.
When you wake up, I won’t be here. I’ve made my decision, I can’t stay after what I’ve done to you. I don’t want you to wake up to shame and horror and self-misery, I don’t want you to hate yourself more. If I have to leave to do that, I will.
Fluttershy has a spare room that I’ll be staying in in Ponyville, y’know, that little town on the ground? That’s where I’m staying. I don’t know what I’ll do when I get there, all I know is that I can’t stay with you anymore. Not after what I’ve done. Not after I ruined you like that, not after I ruined myself like that. I’m so, so sorry, Daddy. I just wanted to help you, and I guess I did, just a bit too much.
Please forgive me. It was selfish, and boorish, and downright degrading of me to let this happen. Maybe someday I can forgive myself for it. Maybe someday we can meet again, and we can be daughter and father like we used to be, not what I turned us into in one night. It pains my heart to leave you, but I know that it’s small compared to what you’ll go through if I stay.
Please, do as I asked and sober up. Find another pony like Firefly, somepony who can be strong and brave and passionate for you, somepony you can start a new family with, somepony you can truly love and be loved by. Don’t accept poor substitutes like me. Find somepony truly great, truly wonderful, truly beautiful, and not manipulative bitches like me.
Don’t follow me. Don’t try to find me. Dad, if we ever meet again, it’s going to be on my own terms. At least, unlike Mom, you know why I’m gone now, you know why I can’t see you anymore. I never wanted this to happen, I just...
I just wanted to help.
I’m sorry.
Your little Dashie, forever, and ever.
Author's Note
Was it worth it?
...
Probably not. But hey! First Dashcest fic on the site, so ya win some, ya lose some. Even if it's total crap.
Hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading my crap.
