Author's Note

I am legally obligated to remind you, once again, that all characters depicted are of appropriate age and no suggestions to the contrary exist. Anywhere. Ever.

If the reader wishes to imagine the characters differently, I can't control his or her mind.
However, officially, that's not what I wrote, and I will not take responsibility for such a depiction.

Make-out Point

You hum quietly to yourself in the heat of the school parking lot, your hands in your pockets as you lean patiently against the door of your dented, second-hand clunker. Your homework for the week is already finished and you breezed through that calc test in second period, so aside from the sunburn you'll probably get from standing outside for so long, it's been a perfect day. A hint of movement from the school gymnasium catches your eye, and you take a step away from your car.

What better way to end a perfect day than a drive home with your perfect gal?

A smile rises to your face as Sweetie Belle emerges from the door of the gym and comes bouncing in your direction. She hasn't changed out of her cheerleader's uniform, and you can still see just a hint of dampness around her neck and down her sides where her sweat has soaked into the cloth. She greets you with a cheerful grin as she slips her backpack from her shoulder.

“Hi!”

“Hey, Sweetie,” you reply as you take her bag. “How'd it go today?”

You open a door and toss her things into the back seat. “Ugh! It was just awful,” she says with an exaggerated, squeaky moan. “We had to practice on the field today, but it's so hot!”

That's the truth; it's downright sweltering outside. And the heat that washes over your face as the two of you climb into your car is even worse.

“Eep!” Sweetie releases a little squeal as the back of her bare midriff touches your blistering leather seat.

“Uh, sorry about that,” you mumble. “I tried to cool it off in here, but I think my air conditioner got messed up over the weekend or something.”

“Ooh, this heat is making my hair all frizzy. Dumb August,” she grumbles as she twists her finger around her pale purple curls.

“Um, um, sorry,” you repeat, and you adjust the glasses slipping down your sweating nose as you start the engine.

The two of you roll down your windows, hoping to cool off as much as possible as you head away from the parking lot and into the city streets. With luck, the traffic will be light on the way to Sweetie's house in the suburbs.

You do your best to keep your eyes on the road while Sweetie Belle sits at your side, her collar in her fingertips, pulled low to let the rushing air blow down the blouse of her uniform. She stares contentedly out the window, indifferent to the fact that every breeze and her every motion exposes the thin, white straps of her bra and the pale skin of her flat, teen chest. Her sweat still glistens in tiny droplets on the bump of her collarbone.

She suddenly perks up as though she'd just remembered something important. “Oh yeah!” she says, “Do you think you'll be able to drive me and my friends to the mall this weekend? Apple Bloom says she needs to buy some pet stuff. I told you about Winona's puppies, right? Oh, they're just so adorable!” She squeezes her hands to her chest in delight. “You won't be busy or anything, right?”

You silently cringe and slump a bit lower in your seat. “Um, I guess that'd be okay.”

“Is something wrong? You … don't have to if you don't want to.” Her big, green eyes strike you with a look of disappointment.

“No, it's fine! I just … don't really think your friends like me too much, is all.”

“Oh, that! Pffft!” She flops back in her seat and waves away your concern. “They're just jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Over you, of course!” She giggles. “Scootaloo especially. She still can't believe I got a boyfriend before she did. One who's so cool, and smart, and nice, and … cute ….”

Jeez. Even after all this time, you can still feel the blush rising to your face when she says stuff like that.

“Hey, um ….”

She sits with her hands in her lap, her eyes down and her fingers nervously clutched together.

“You don't have to take me straight home, do you?”

With just a bit of hesitation, you reply. “Well, I probably should. Your parents are expecting you back soon, right?” You push your glasses up once again and look to your side as you wait at the traffic light.

“I was just kinda, sorta thinking we could stop somewhere and um … kiss? Maybe?”

Now you're both blushing, the fresh redness adding to the pink flush on her cheeks from the summer heat. You quietly stutter as you anxiously reach for the turn signal. “Um, yeah, I-I … sure, just uh … yeah.” Your mind all abuzz, the car suddenly fills with blaring music and loud, rough screeching as your hand accidentally flips on your windshield wipers and smacks into the radio.

“Sorry!”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Only a few turns off the normal path to Sweetie's home leads you to the deserted lot overlooking the river on the edge of town – also known as “make-out point” … on Friday night, that is. Now, in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week, it's just an empty, ugly hilltop. But it'll do.

You and Sweetie Belle sit together in the back seat of your car, still sweating even with all four doors thrown wide open. Her hands are in yours, your thumbs anxiously stroking her skin as she stares at you across the long, leather seat. Quietly, you begin to speak. “Well, I –”

You're shocked at her eagerness as she quickly darts forward and catches your lips in a firm, simple smooch. It's not the first time you've kissed or anything, but the sugary sweet feeling still sends your insides tingling.

Suddenly, her mouth begins to shift, parting ever so slightly and then pressing against yours once more, sending you swooning at the soft, happy sound she makes and the touch of her wonderfully soft, pink lips – an open-mouthed kiss!

Her arms rise and sit about your shoulders. She begins to lean in as her kiss continues, her lips enclosing each of yours – the pressure delicate, plush, and slightly damp upon your mouth as her short, eager breaths drift over your tongue – gently slipping away as she lifts her head, then once more crashing hotly upon you.

Finally, she pulls away, leaving the sound of a quiet “smack” as the kiss abruptly ends, and she sits with rosy cheeks and a nervous expression as she watches for your reaction.

“W-was that okay?” she shyly asks.

“Um, what? Yeah, I mean, it was – that was pretty great.”

She smiles, and her muscles relax as she falls against you with a sigh. At some point, you realize, your hands had risen to her sides. Her slender tummy sits cool and slick between your palms.

All at once, she scrambles back. “Oh no!”

“What!? What is it!?” You spin about in a panic.

“I'm still all sweaty!” she says. “I probably stink! Oh, gosh!”

Quickly settling your pounding heart, you smile and catch her hand. “No, it's fine. I mean, you smell nice.”

You anxiously shuffle in your seat as you force your eyes away, your thoughts turning to the forbidden cache of desire hidden at the back of your mind, unlocked by the touch of her lips and the excitement of this illicit summer rendezvous. “In fact, if you wouldn't mind – that is, if-if it's okay with you –” you stammer, “I'd actually kind of like to … smell you some more? Um, but only if it's not too weird or anything!”

“You want to smell me?” Sweetie seems uncertain but not upset with your strange proposal. She kneads her hands together between her milky-white thighs. “Well, I guess that'd be okay.”

“You're sure? Oh, um, wow. Okay then … here I go.”

Your shaking hands slip around her body. A bead of sweat rolls down the small of her back and over your fingertips, and you fight down the nervous, nauseous feeling in your stomach as you lean your head to her neck and breath deeply the scent of her body.

“D-do I really smell okay? Really?”

“Yeah! Really!” you reply.

The breath of your nose tickles her skin as you drift along her neck and down her shoulder. A small slip of her chest is visible just past the edge of her uniform at the fold where her arm meets her body. The clean smell of her fresh sweat mixes with the heat of the summer air. You sit there, the tip of your nose hovering, nearly touching the pit of her arm, and your cheek lingers by her breast, separated just slightly from the softness of her modest chest.

“It's not gross?” she asks, her voice nearly a whisper.

You don't reply, but instead you bring your hand to her elbow and gently lift, exposing the skin beneath her arm. A single drop of sweat drips down, trickling in a long trail down her body. Her armpit bears just a tiny hint of soft, violet stubble.

The smell of her perspiration seems to flood your senses, and you slowly sniff as your nose draws ever closer to her body. Her sweat is clean, cool, and salty, like a subtle ocean breeze passing over her skin. Yet behind it there still lingers the barest hint of her body's odor – a tiny, bitter suggestion of the dirty, unwashed allure of her hidden places.

A breathy giggle escapes her lips. “It tickles.”

You can almost hear the pounding of her heart when she pulls you close, her uplifted arms wrapping about your head and burying your face into the pit of her arm. Her firm body is slick and wet under your lips. You catch a bit of her salty flavor on your tongue, and you inhale a long, heavy breath, your fingers clutching at her back, squeezing her to your chest and tracing long paths over her soft, dripping flesh as they slide slowly up and into the short blouse of her outfit.

Her fingers curl in your hair, your own sweat adding to the slickness of her arm that sits upon your face, and she crushes you even more tightly against herself. Your lips part just a bit, eager to catch the rolling trickle of the sweat that pours down in drops from her pale, white underarm, and she continues her quiet giggles and long, breathy sighs as you press your nose and lips into the dripping skin.

At your side, you feel her leg rising upward, and her foot starts to softly stroke your thigh. Without realizing it, you'd begun leaning over her, nearly forcing her to her back as you hold her in your hands. For the moment, the feel and scent of her body is everything to you – that wet, salty flavor, that pungent perfume of a hot, active girl filling your mind, caressing your cheek with it's steamy touch as your nose presses and slides over the soft, bare flesh of her armpit. She laughs at the tiny kisses you leave, each one an impression in her sweat, and you feel every drop and every inch of her skin that surrounds your face as you nuzzle the space beneath her arm.

You don't even notice when the tip of your finger seems to catch on something until suddenly a strange snapping sound pops from inside Sweetie's shirt and she lets out a startled gasp. Her arms quickly wrap about her chest and she pulls away.

You stare at each other, your breath heaving and your faces blazing red.

“Um, what did – did I just –”

“Y-you kinda … unhooked my bra.”

“I – that – it was an accident!”

“Um, y-yeah … yeah, I know.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The two of you are unusually quiet on the way back to Sweetie's house. You hope you can get her home on time – a glance at the clock on your dashboard suggests that you should make it back early enough – but most of all, you hope you haven't screwed everything up with your stupid nose and busy fingers.

Sweetie Belle remains unmoving, her cheeks still blushing and her head down.

“Um, I don't ....” She hesitates. “I don't think we should do that anymore.”

You force down an unhappy groan as a burning feeling of regret begins to creep up your spine. “I'm really, really sorry, Sweetie. I d-didn't mean for any of that to happen,” you say. “It was all my fault and I shouldn't have asked you to do something like that.”

“Oh, no! That's not it! Actually ....” She pauses for a moment, and she nervously brushes away the windblown curl that sticks to her forehead. “It's just that I think we both might have liked that a little bit … too much.”

“Y-yeah. Maybe.”

Her lip clutched in her teeth, her blush grows even stronger as she considers what she'll say next. “So, was that like … second base?”

You cough and release a quiet, uncertain laugh. “Well, I'm not entirely sure that's even in the stadium, exactly.”

She nods and for a moment seems deep in thought. “Baseball is complicated.”

“Yeah. Wait, what?”