Sweetie-Do-Well and the Curse of the Magical Costume!

“Almost there.” Sweetie panted. Past the foliage, the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ clubhouse had finally come into view. “Almost there.”

Her mouth hung open. She had tried to breathe through her nose most of the way over, but navigating the woods that surrounded the clubhouse was difficult enough on a hot summer’s day without her snug costume relentlessly rubbing her the whole way. Nevertheless, she tried to take deep breaths. Focus on what was ahead of her. A drop of sweat crawled over the little strands of fur on her forehead, its slow descent so painfully vivid - tickling her in a way she could just barely ignore.

She felt it every time her legs, thighs, flanks shifted. The silky material was tight across her whole body – intentionally, for optimal maneuverability when fighting bad guys. Right now, though, the only thing it was doing was making it stretch taut across her rump every time she took a step. Her tail brushed against the costume, and she gasped.

Taking in a deep breath, she stopped, feeling her whole body shivering. The rustic stairs leading up to the clubhouse were right in front of her now. So close. Getting here took twice as long as usual, but it would all be worth it. She had to stop and duck behind a tree every dozen yards to calm herself down. Even now, she wanted to duck under the shade of the clubhouse, and sit there concentrating on nothing but the sweat rolling down her body and making the costume stick to her–

No. She shook her head. Almost there. Can’t get distracted now.

She let out the breath in a snort. The hot air hovered in front of her face for a moment, almost palpable. “C’mon Sweetie-Do-Well, you can do this.” She put one hoof on the runged staircase.

“You’re a superhero.” Sweetie Belle smiled. A superhero who would most likely be paying a visit to Twilight’s house later tonight and asking her to tone down the enchantment just a little bit, but a superhero nonetheless. Right now, she would bare it.

Each hoof-fall was a planned procedure; a slow, deliberate plod up to the door of the clubhouse was the only way to be safe. She was already out of breath, but she should be okay if she just...ignored everything. Ignored all the sensations hoving on the edge of her consciousness, all the amazing feelings. The earth felt like it was trembling each time her hoof made contact with the ground, but she knew that it was just vibrations arching up her legs.

It would all be worth it. She was sure that this was her talent. Being a superhero. She was sure about the last thing she had tried, too, but she was surer about this one. Scootaloo had smirked when Sweetie brought up the possibility of Cutie Mark Crusader Crimefighters, and had burst out laughing when she told her friend she wanted to be the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well. Even Applebloom, normally supportive, had a smile that told Sweetie everything she needed to know about her friend’s thoughts on the suggestion.

Sweetie smirked as she reached the halfway point of her ponderous climb, and turned. The door was a few feet in front of her. Who’d be laughing, then, huh? Sure, she had kind of an unfair advantage in that her sister happened to be a skilled clothesmaker, but she was sure that she was the only filly out of the three clever enough to get her costume enchanted. Applebloom and Scootaloo had mulled over costumes and identities for themselves – Sweetie was wrapped up in herself at the time, but she heard enough to know that whatever they came up with was nothing compared to the heroic Sweetie-Do-Well. When she started up the stairs, the fabric dug into the spot between her hindlegs, eliciting a quick intake of breath. She closed her eyes, swallowed, and reopened them.

A minute later, Sweetie sat in front of the door, catching her breath. She’d made it. It was a struggle, but she’d done it. Her chest rose and fell, expanding the fabric and sending hints of a tracing touch all over her body. She grinned. It was amazing how good it felt to do things like just sit here, gently rubbing against the ground. Being a superhero was awesome.

Eventually, standing, she rose a hoof to knock on the door, then just as quickly pulled it back. No, that wouldn’t do. Suddenly, she wished she had a mirror. Sweetie usually rolled her eyes when her sister lapsed into a vain mood, but in this case presentation seemed important. The unstoppable Sweetie-Do-Well didn’t leave bad first impressions, even with her friends. She planted her legs firmly and held her head high. Puffed out her chest. Her entire body stiffened. A stalwart hero. She longed for a second that a gust of wind would flow by and send her cape flowing behind her, but then she remembered what a light breeze did to her the previous night.

She lifted a hoof, and knocked once.

“Ooooohh…” The sharp echo reverberated up her entire body, feeling like it was shaking her to the core. Sweetie rapidly knocked a few for times. Each hit was like another ponies strong hooves on her body, massaging her up and–

The door flew open and Scootaloo glared out. Sweetie Belle tried quickly to regain her composure and stand tall again.

“Finally,” Scootaloo said, glancing back into the clubhouse where Applebloom looked up from a book and smiled at Sweetie. “We’ve been waiting all day. What took-”

Scootaloo paused, and blinked at Sweetie. A smile slowly inched across her face. “What are wearing, Sweetie?”

Sweetie Belle looked at Scootaloo, then over back to Applebloom. Applebloom had her familiar bow, and Scootaloo’s mane and coat was as wild and unkempt as ever. Otherwise, they were completely unadorned.

Unclothed.

Costumeless.

Sweetie Belle’s heroic pose deflated into a sulk. She felt her face growing warm, suddenly feeling very stupid.

“I thought we were gonna’ try an’ be Cutie Mark Crusader Super Heroes today…” Sweetie Belle told the floor.

“Oh. Yeah.” Scootaloo looked away, shuffling her little wings. Behind her, Apple Bloom glared.

“I thought you said you’d tell her!” Apple Bloom marched over to the pair as Scootaloo lowered her head. Frowning, she looked to Sweetie. “I’m sorry, Sweetie Belle. We were gonna be Cutie Mark Crusaders Super Heroes, but Scootaloo and I ran into each other earlier, and I was already so tired from mornin’ chores-”

“Not to mention it’s really hot out today…” Scootaloo muttered, offering a few shameful glances towards Sweetie, who was still looking to the floorboards with a tightness in her throat. “I’m sorry. I totally forgot.”

“It’s all right.” The words eked their way out of Sweetie’s mouth, soft and fragile.

“You, um,” Scootaloo faltered, her wings still shuffling. “You do look totally cool though. In the costume, I mean. It’s way better than mine.”

Sweetie glanced up at her friend, meeting Scootaloo’s awkward half-smile with her own. The tightness in her throat had begun to loosen up. “You think so?”

“Totally.” The orange pegasus laughed, “I just had a dumb mask from the costume shop. I think Apple Bloom had a couple of potato sacks stitched together or something.”

“Hey!” Apple Bloom swatted at Scootaloo’s head, narrowly missing as Scootaloo ducked, snickering. “Least I had something other than a flimsy ol’ mask.”

“It made her look like some kind of super-scarecrow!” Scootaloo could barely get her words past her laughter as Apple Bloom swatted again and again. Though she had managed to evade Apple Bloom’s blows so far, Scootaloo let out an oof as she was tackled to the ground.

“A scarecrow who’s got’cha pinned!” Apple Bloom pressed her weight against Scootaloo’s shoulders, using her free hoof to tickle her giggling friend’s stomach. Sweetie couldn’t help but crack a smile as Scootaloo fought through her squeals and breathless fits of laughter to try and push Apple Bloom off, to no avail.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Scootaloo shouted with what little air was left in her lungs. Apple Bloom let off, a look of smug satisfaction on her face. Wiping the tears from her eyes and catching her breath, the defeated pegasus turned to Sweetie Belle. “Guess I deserved that, huh?”

“Maybe a little.” Sweetie giggled. The pegasus grinned herself, spreading out on the wooden clubhouse floor. All of a sudden, something warm pressed against Sweetie’s side. More than warm, it was hot, and fuzzy, and smelled just a little bit sweaty. The sensations reverberated in Sweetie’s head, the heat overwhelming, the smell slowly becoming thick in her head…

“Darn tootin’, ya did! That’ll teach ya for messin’ with a bona-fide superhero.” Sweetie was sure Apple Bloom wasn’t yelling, though her voice boomed in her ear. Apple Bloom might have said something else, but Sweetie barely understood it. She was finding it hard to concentrate. Her mind wandered, back to the last night, back to how amazing and hot and wet and breathless and tingly she-

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Apple Bloom spoke cheerfully as she pulled away - the wind was so cool against the lingering sweat on Sweetie Belle’s coat - and walked across the clubhouse. Sweetie tried to remain calm. She had been planning on asking her friends about this, but now that they were here, it felt...scary. Maybe it wasn’t normal for fillies with magic powers to be feeling like that. What if her costume got all wet back there, right in front of them? Would they understand, or just think she was weird and gross? Sweetie didn’t want to be gross. She didn’t want this uncontrollable thing to be a part of her.

“Earth to Sweetie Belle!” Apple Bloom called, startling the little unicorn. Next to her was a pitcher full of ice and lemonade, dripping with condensation. Tapping a hoof to her chest, Apple Bloom stood proudly. “Me an’ Applejack made it fresh.”

“Grab me some?” Scootaloo asked from the floor as Sweetie trotted over, trying to put thoughts of dark, wet stains on her backside out of her mind. Apple Bloom scowled.

“Get it yerself, lazybones.” Clenching the handle between her teeth, Apple Bloom gently tipped the lemonade into the three small glasses laid out next to it. Sitting down near a glass, Sweetie winced as she laid her stomach against the hot wooden floor.

Sweetie stared at the glass. Condensation covered it, running down just like the beads of sweat were running down her face in trails of electric sensation.

Bolts coursing through her body. It felt like Applebloom leapt on her. Her whole body shaking, Sweetie Belle almost jumped and screamed but she spun to look and Applebloom just had her hoof on her shoulder, gently rubbing up and down.

“Wow,” Applebloom said, whispering more to herself. Her mouth was a slight frown that slowly became a smile as she rubbed. Looking at her friend, wide-eyed, Sweetie Belle wanted to find the words to say, but they caught in her throat. Just staring at Applebloom, her friends eyes looked a little hazy, as if she was distracted by something past Sweetie. “This is a really...nice costume, Sweetie. We oughta get some of this...whatever it is, from Rarity.”

Each time Applebloom’s hoof brushed against her it felt like her heart raced faster. She swallowed, trying to find voice. Applebloom continued touching her with that incredible hoof. Her whole concept of friendship was changing as the two fillies stared past one another. Cutie Mark Crusader Cuddlers…?

A galaxy away, Scootaloo was still pantomiming disability.

“It’s all the way over theeeeeere…” Scootaloo moaned, wriggling her hooves in the air. Applebloom turned away from Sweetie Belle and turned towards her other friend. Suddenly called back to reality, and somehow resisting the almost magnetic pull that was compelling her to stand up and soothe the ache deep in her by snuggling her whole body against Applebloom’s, Sweetie turned to focus on the glass.

She reached out, and lifted it in both hooves. It was so cold, a block of ice. Though she meant to take a couple of good gulps, Sweetie had to pause after one sip - the lemonade was so cool in her parched throat, its sweet and tangy goodness sliding down into her stomach. Sweetie let out what she thought was a sound of approval, but judging by the look Apple Bloom gave her, perhaps she was wrong.

“Don’t like it?”

“No, no, it’s really good!” Her hot breath passing through her throat made her want more. Want to feel that cool and sweet and tasty. Sweetie gulped slowly, barely pausing to lift her mouth from the glass, her eyelids fluttering. Apple Bloom shrugged, downing the rest of her glass with ease.

“Or maybe Apple Bloom’s turned evil and she’s poisoning youuuuuu-” Scootaloo slowly rolled herself across the room, flopping closer and closer to her friends. She fell just short of her glass, almost but not quite able to reach her full, perspiring glass with an outstretched hoof. Sweetie kept her muzzle poised over the empty glass for a moment, panting softly and letting the tangy scent waft gently into her nostrils. Realizing just how carried away she had gotten, Sweetie pulled herself upright, attempting to look as aware and inconspicuous as possible.

“Hey, um,” Apple Bloom started as she slowly edged Scootaloo’s glass out of her reach. “Are you all right? I feel awful about lettin’ you down today.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. And it’s all right, really. I just, uh,” Should she tell them? Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were her best friends, after all - maybe she was just overreacting. Maybe whatever had been happening to her was completely normal. Scootaloo was still wriggling on the floor, and Apple Bloom was starting to crack a smile at her antics. Maybe things weren’t as bad as she thought. “I’ve been having kind of a-”

Warmth. Not like the sun, not like the boards of wood she was laying on. Warmth that draped over her back and pressed against her, little hairs slipping between those in her white coat and lightly tickling her skin. Sweetie Belle gasped, the sudden inhalation of a familiar yet strange and complex scent. Scootaloo’s face was inches from hers.

“You’re my last hope, Sweetie Belle. Without your help, I will probably remain totally thirsty.” She smelled like sweat, too. Her exaggerated breaths weaved through the little hairs on Sweetie’s face. Her body heat went straight through Sweetie, her face suddenly feeling quite hot. Sweetie prayed that Scootaloo didn’t notice how, when she moved her leg just a tiny bit across her suit, it felt like some amazing, wonderful, soft force had exploded across her back. Her breaths were shaky. No. No. Not now.

“I, uh, Scootaloo-” Sweetie fought to get her words out. It was strangely difficult. Like she was in front of her class, trying to give a speech on something she knew nothing about - but it didn’t make any sense. She knew what she wanted to say. Sort of. Something about Scootaloo? Something she didn’t want Scootaloo to do? “I, uh. I d-don’t think-”

Without warning, Scootaloo rocketed away, taking her warmth and her scent with her. “No! Betrayed again! How could you do this to me, Spectacular Sweetie Belle?”

Sweetie was starting to feel rattled. She laughed a hollow laugh along with Apple Bloom, trying not to think of how every part of her body was so without that wonderful feeling it had been bathing in moments ago. Just from Scootaloo, her friend, touching her. How could she have even considered telling them? They’d probably freak out. They’d probably never go near her again. Why would they, if even a friendly touch could make her all gross and wet. Wet in that place between her legs. Wet in that place that nopony talked about.

“You both have made a fool of me, denied me of my delicious lemonade for far too long.” Scootaloo got on her hooves, flattening her ears in mock-anger. “You’ve forced me, the once Sensational Scootaloo, into a life of misery and crime!”

Deep breaths, Sweetie told herself. In. Out.

“If I can’t have your precious lemonade…” Scootaloo continued in her dark, gravelly villain voice, “Then none of you can!”

It happened far too quickly for Sweetie Belle to react. Scootaloo pounced, tumbling into her and knocking her on her back. Warm. Again, so warm. Pressing down on her, radiating warmth and the smell of a sweaty filly. It was good. Something in Sweetie felt that she shouldn’t think her friend smelled good, but there was no denying it. It was everywhere, condensed around her wherever she wasn’t being pressed to the ground by her friend’s warm, slightly moist body. Sweetie couldn’t control the delighted scream that escaped her throat.

“I’ve got you now, Spectacular Sweetie Belle!” Scootaloo cried, digging her hooves into Sweetie’s costumed stomach. Sweetie screamed with laughter - her friend’s hooves teasing and torturing her felt so much more devastating through the soft fabric of her costume. Tears blurred her vision, her lungs barely able to keep air in as Scootaloo continued her relentless assault. Half formed syllables and sounds escaped her mouth, their meaning and purpose forgotten as soon as they were spoken. Sweetie’s laughs had begun to slow down, her shrieks elongating into breathy moans, punctuated by quick staccato gasps.

Something felt nice. Even more nice than her friend’s hooves. Something tugging, rubbing - oh, it was her costume, brushing against that spot between her legs, that spot that was pressed right up against her friend. Scootaloo was soft. Scootaloo felt so nice to just push and push against, pulling the soft fabric against her and feeling that hot, wonderful body heat push back against her.

With a gasp, Scootaloo pulled back. The end of a moan turned into a groan of displeasure as Scootaloo took a step back. The contact, that wonderful feeling, suddenly left Sweetie Belle’s life and her whole body wanted more. Touching herself behind a locked bedroom door was one thing but grinding against another pony was on a whole other level of feeling. Her chest heaved up and down, as she lay, staring blankly at the ceiling, gasping in between her grunts.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” Scootaloo’s leg tingled where Sweetie had rubbed against it, and her hooves were shaking. It wasn’t a feeling Scootaloo could place, but there was no doubt it was a nice one. Kind of like plunging into a hot bath all at once, not just with her body but with everything.

Sweetie lay on the ground, not responding. Applebloom slowly set her glass of lemonade on the ground and rose from the floor. “Sweetie Belle?”

Scootaloo looked back at Applebloom, then to her friend on the floor. The blank look she’d had slowly turned into a smile. “It looks like I’ve discovered the Spectacular Sweetie Belle’s weakness! She can’t handle being tickled!” Her whole body tensed, and she gave her rump a wiggle before pouncing on Sweetie again.

A mix of screaming and laughter echoed through the clubhouse and out into the surrounding forest as Scootaloo’s hooves fell on her again, rubbing all over her belly and chest. It was shrill, manic giggling and moaning, all punctuated with rapid-fire gasping and her body rose each time Scootaloo pressed down, desperate for attention, desperate to be touched. She was humping against her friend’s leg, her whole body moving up and down in spastic motions.

Scootaloo stopped tickling her slowly, once she realized that her friend’s laughter had turned into something much more guttural. Some part of her wanted to step away from Sweetie Belle, but most of her just wanted to know why rubbing against the costume felt so good. She brought up a hoof and ran it in slow circles over Sweetie Belle’s chest, reveling in the feel of the costume in a way she hadn’t earlier. Sweetie Belle cooed under her. There was still that insisting rubbing up and down her leg, and Scootaloo realized distantly that that was weird, Sweetie Belle was acting strange, but it was becoming hard to focus on that.

“Man, Applebloom,” Scootaloo whispered. “You were right. This costume feels awesome. What’s it made of anyway, Sweetie Belle?” Sweetie didn’t answer – barely even raised her head in Scootaloo’s direction. She licked her lips and swallowed, but if there were words, they were lost amid the low whimpers and loud gasps of air.

Applebloom took another step towards the pair. Frowning, she looked them up and down. Her friends were acting weird, especially Sweetie Belle. It wasn’t hard to think of another time where the trio had fallen into fits of tickle fights, and Sweetie Belle had never been quite this incapacitated by them.

“Well, get off a’ her and let her answer,” Applebloom said, “She’s just gonna keep makin’ those sounds if you keep ticklin’ her.”

Scootaloo looked at Applebloom, blinked, and shook her head. “What?” Applebloom seemed so distant compared to what Sweetie was making her feel. Anything she had to say could wait. Turning back to Sweetie almost immediately, her hoof found a steady path up and down Sweetie Belle’s side. Man, this felt nice. Nicer than any of the outfits she’d ever worn, nicer than anything she’d ever felt. No wonder Sweetie Belle wore this costume even though it was so hot. The sweat was plainly visible on Sweetie’s face and on the costume. Maybe she’d let her try it on later?

“I said, get off a’ her so she can answer you,” Applebloom tried again, her voice a little louder and carrying a hint of worry.

“I’m not even—” Scootaloo closed her eyes. Again, her whole body shuddered. This was so strange and she didn’t want to stop. There some something more – a warm wetness that sprouted suddenly against her leg and moved up and down with Sweetie’s body. The whole clubhouse was starting to smell like sweat and something else, some other smell Scootaloo liked. Should she tell Sweetie to stop rubbing against her leg? It was weird and – gosh, it felt so amazing even down there.

“I’m not even tickling her anymore,” Scootaloo said between loud, trembling breaths, having a hard time finding her words. “I’m just...she won’t stop up rubbing up against my leg.”

Taking a few steps over and pacing around to Sweetie, she stared at her friend. Sweetie’s eyes were shut, and she could see the fur around them soaked in tears. A huge, unashamed smile spread across her face. Small grunts accompanied the diminutive twitching each time Scootaloo’s hoof changed direction.

“Sweetie Belle, are you okay?” Applebloom said, loud enough to be heard over Sweetie Belle’s murmuring. Slowly, Sweetie Belle’s eyes opened and stared past Applebloom’s, then she gave a slight nod. Applebloom wasn’t convinced. “Get off of her, Scoots, she’s actin’ really weird.”

Scootaloo knew Applebloom was right. Sweetie Belle was acting weird and amazing. She was warm and felt so good to touch. Heart beating. Sweat dripping. Looking up slowly at Applebloom, she couldn’t help but mirror some of the sounds of Sweetie Belle was making – the soft babble of a very happy filly.

“She—the suit feels really good,” Scootaloo admitted, confessing it more to herself. “I don’t...It feels really nice to touch.” Repositioning herself so she was in a more stable position over Sweetie Belle, she leaned down closer. Did anything in her life feel so good as rubbing against her friend right now? The smell of sweat and shampoo and detergent and that other unmaskable indistinguishable smell wafted from Sweetie Belle. Leaning down closer, their stomachs rubbed together. She could feel each individual hair connect and cling to Sweetie’s suit, and each one sent distinct shocks through her.

“What in the hay are you two doing?” Applebloom said, walking closer. The smell of apples and dirt. A warm fire, ash. Pine needles, cut flowers. “Get off of her, Scootaloo!”

“I…” Words were a lot harder than just continuing to rub against her friend. That was the easiest and best thing to do in the world.. “What is…” If Scootaloo had known that this would feel so good, she would have asked her friends to do it with her a long time ago. Scootaloo looked up at Applebloom, mulling over words in the haze of happiness.

“Sweetie feels really good…” she said. She couldn’t explain more, couldn’t find the words to capture it. She’d never had these feelings before. Not with her friend. Not with anypony. “I think it’s something—”

Sweetie Belle suddenly lurched upwards, rubbing her face against Scootaloo’s, nuzzling hard into her. The same magnetic pull that clung between the two fillies and keep Scootaloo locked in contact with her friend prevented her from jerking backwards, and feeling Sweetie’s burning, tear-stained face was a new, bright sensation. The urge towards panic quickly evaporated and Scootaloo found herself nuzzling back.

“Ahright, you two lovebirds,” Applebloom said, letting out a forced, nervous laugh. “I’m serious time to break it up. We have crusadin’ to get—”

Scootaloo didn’t hear a word her friend was saying. The warmth coming from Sweetie, the hot breath that flowed over her each time her friend moaned was too distracting. They nudging each other clumsily, both of their eyes closed. Scootaloo didn’t want it to stop. They brushed against one another, breathing each other in.

A pair of lips brushed against another. Once, then again. The third time, they halted and Sweetie’s mouth clamped onto her friend’s.

“—oh my gosh.” Applebloom said, wide-eyed. Her heart was racing. She knew enough about adult stuff – Applejack had given her enough half-lectures on romance and the practicalities of it – to know that this was not something that friends do. Having no idea what to do, or what to say, she sat on the floor.

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle had entered another world where it was only the two of them. Sweetie’s tongue wrestled its way into Scootaloo’s mouth, the pegasus only able to put up a second of cursory resistance. She regretted even that. The tongue in her mouth was hot, she could taste Sweetie Belle’s breath. Moaning deep into her friends mouth, she pushed against Sweetie’s snout, forcing her to the ground.

She knew what kissing was, of course – heard whispers and rumors on the school playground, games and dares escalated. Nothing she knew told her it would be like this. This was the most amazing sensation she had ever felt, Sweetie Belle’s warm, wet tongue in her mouth. The muffled moans she voiced down Sweetie’s throat made both of their mouths shake which just made everything feel even better.

“I can’t believe it.” Applebloom, still motionless.

Kissing didn’t describe this. Scootaloo had no idea if there was a word to describe this. If it existed, she didn’t know what it was. There was nothing elegant or romantic about it, not like the casual pecks she’d seen her parents give each other. Why had they never told her that kissing felt good?

“Girls...knock it off…”

Her tongue licked against Sweetie’s, pushing it around her own mouth and then thrusting into her friends’. Some distant part of her was dimly aware that she would have found this gross a day ago, that kissing like this was something adults did and not best friends, but that part of her was becoming quieter with each passing second – paved over with a thicker coat of pleasure each time the one fillies tongues brushed against the other’s. It was finally quieted, a tiny whisper unheard against the throaty growls that Sweetie and Scootaloo shared as they attacked each other’s mouths with as much ferocity as they’d ever shown in their roughhousing.

“Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle s-sittin’ in a tree,” Applebloom said, her voice shaking. She laughed a tinny and hollow laugh. “K-I-S-S…”

Air. Scootaloo needed air. It was so easy to forget basic stuff like that when you can only focus on your friend’s lips on yours and her tongue in your mouth. She waited until the last second she could bear it, then pulled back and lifted her head away from Sweetie Belle. She took in one loud lungful of air, then another, then opened her eyes.

Sweetie Belle was in the exact same state, desperately trying to catch her breath. Their chests met each time they breathed deep, and almost subconsciously they started rocking against each other.

“Finally!” Applebloom said, standing up. “What in Equestria’s gottin’ into you two?”

Their kissing was not neat. Their lips dripped with each other’s saliva, and around their mouths the fur was warm, wet, and matted. Scootaloo’s tongue stuck out from her mouth and a steady stream of saliva slowly fell ran down it and drooled onto Sweetie Belle’s chin.

The only sound that came from the fillies was heavy panting. Scootaloo thought – for a moment – about saying something, but the way Sweetie stared back at her and the big, vacant grins they shared said everything that need to be said. It took about ten seconds for Scootaloo to determine that her breathing was okay before she slammed her snout hard into Sweetie Belle’s again, muffling the delighted gasp this drew from the unicorn.

“Oh, for pete’s sake,” Applebloom said, rushing over to the pair.

It was too good to stop. Every part of Scootaloo’s body tingled, especially the parts where she was directly touching Sweetie Belle’s sticky silky costume. She wanted all of her touching Sweetie Belle, as much as she could. There was a sudden forcefulness on the back of her head – somehow she realized that Sweetie Belle had wrapped her forehooves around her and was holding her close.

“Hey,” Applebloom said, pushing on Scootaloo’s shoulder. The pair was oblivious to her presence.

Sweetie Belle pulled away from Scootaloo and moaned out loud through clenched teeth. Again, there was that wet sensation on Scootaloo’s leg as Sweetie Belle quickly stroked that spot between her spread legs up and down. Scootaloo loved every second of it. She wanted to be wet and warm all the time. It felt so good.

“Hey,” Applebloom said again, nudging. Her voice was wet.

Still wrapped around the pegasus, Sweetie Belle had pullen Scootaloo down to her neck. Wanting – needing – to feel everything she could, Scootaloo began kissing that part of her friend, too.

“I wanna try,” Applebloom said, pushing Scootaloo harder. The pegasus’ lips slipped from her friend, excess drool slathering across the damp white hairs of Sweetie’s neck. Her breathing was heavy, and her eyes barely open as her lower body continued pushing hard against the lowly groaning unicorn beneath her. Pursing her lips, Apple Bloom shoved both of her hooves toward Scootaloo. “Come on!”

Scootaloo gave no resistance, and Apple Bloom found herself tumbling face-first into the warm, gyrating bodies of her friends. The three of them paused, just for a moment. Apple Bloom stared up at Sweetie Belle, her muzzle pressed against the fabric of her costume. Sweetie’s mouth was wet with saliva, a drop of which had fallen from her lips and sat on the hot wooden floor. Something about her friend’s state felt strange to Apple Bloom, but it was getting harder to figure out just what it was by the second. Each breath that passed through her nose was hot and moist. Each breath took more of Sweetie Belle’s strong, sweaty scent into her lungs. With every exhale, Apple Bloom told herself to pull away, that what she was doing was weird and wrong. Her breaths grew deeper. Her eyelids drooped.

Something wonderfully fuzzy touched her cheek, and Apple Bloom pushed against it. Between the smooth, wet silkiness of the costume and whatever she was unable to stop nuzzling against, Apple Bloom wasn’t sure if she’d ever felt this good before. The slightest touch elicited delicate half-grunts from her throat. Every detail of the sounds of her friends, so very close, panting and gasping around her, rushed through her ears. The soft thing was touching her lips now. Apple Bloom turned her head, opening her mouth to say something, something she wasn’t quite sure of.

Scootaloo’s nose bumped softly against her own. Her mouth was open too, the two fillies panting softly against one another. The pegasus’ tongue hung slightly out of her mouth, a small dark wet patch growing around where it lay on Sweetie’s costume. There was so much Apple Bloom didn’t understand. Some strange feeling not unlike embarrassment stirred inside her. Her cheeks flushed, and she felt the instinct to look away from Scootaloo, whose eyes had met hers. She couldn’t look away. As she took in deep lungfuls of the myriad mesmerizing scents surrounding her, Apple Bloom tried to bring words to her tongue again. So many questions shouted from in her mind, but they all seemed foreign and jumbled. Eventually, the little earth pony settled for the only words she could think of.

“You’re...really pretty.” Apple Bloom’s voice was low, cracked and breathy. The words were barely out of her mouth before she felt Scootaloo’s lips, soft and wet and warm, close on hers. A sliver of doubt, wondering why she’d blurted those words to her friend, drifted briefly through Apple Bloom’s mind before the taste of Scootaloo’s tongue washed it away.

Apple Bloom moaned hard into Scootaloo’s muzzle. The two fillies’ tongues shoved into each other, their spit smacking as their lips frantically collided. Apple Bloom’s hooves caressed her friend’s wonderfully fuzzy body, her softly twitching wings, her short, messy mane. Sweetie’s warm chest, rising and falling and covered in that amazing fabric, pressed against her cheek. The sensations, the smells, the tastes - they were electricity to the young filly. Coursing through her, across her skin, tingling at the edges of her hooves and lips and something far deeper. Apple Bloom felt wet, wet like Scootaloo’s mouth, wet like Sweetie Belle’s costume, wet like the air rushing through her nose.

Something shifted under Scootaloo. Something that made her snap away from Apple Bloom’s mouth, strands of drool dripping from her face, and gasp. It was between her legs, silky and textured and rubbing against her so hard. The panting pegasus pushed back against it, and the tingly, drippy sensation burned brighter than ever before. Her wings fluttered, and her eyes struggled to focus as she looked down, down at that spot near her tail.

It was the costume. Sweetie’s legs were splayed apart as she lay moaning on the floor. Between them, the costume glistened, the fabric dark and soaked. Pressing up against her. Whatever that shining, growing wetness was, Scootaloo could smell it from where she was. Strong and enthralling - it felt like the smell was fogging up her head. Something shifted again, jerking a staccato grunt from Scootaloo. Through the messy costume, Scootaloo could make out something flexing underneath. A tiny nub would show itself ever so briefly before hiding away. Each time it poked out, Sweetie Belle’s drawn out moans would ascend to a quick, sharp squeal. Scootaloo felt a vacant grin spread on her face as she pressed herself against that warm wetness once more.

“Ah…” Apple Bloom stared up at Scootaloo’s dumbly grinning face, weakly holding a hoof up to the sweat-coated pegasus. The scent coming from Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle made even that simple syllable a complex task to pronounce, but she had to get Scootaloo’s attention. Her tongue stuck out, begging for more attention. Begging to taste those lips again, feel their softness and the dangling strands of her drool crash into her once more. Taking a few more deep breaths, she tried to call out to her friend. Tried to call out her name. “Ah…”

The squelches from between Scootaloo’s legs grew faster, louder. The pegasus could barely hear Apple Bloom’s grunts and groans - she was having a hard time telling where any of the many sounds flooding her brain were coming from. Countless gentle wet beads tickled the hairs of her thighs as they ran down, some collecting in the fibers of Sweetie’s costume while small puddles formed on the wooden floor beneath them.

Apple Bloom struggled to move as she shakily rolled over, not daring to lose contact with Sweetie’s amazing, wet costume. Her hind legs sat to either side of Sweetie’s head. Apple Bloom breathed in gulps of her friends’ scent, stronger than ever, as she pushed herself up on her forelegs. Her eyes remained locked on Scootaloo’s lips. She didn’t bother to flinch when a drop of spittle from one of Scootaloo’s guttural cries landed on her cheek, sliding down to her chin. She was almost there.

A deep, throaty cry erupted from Sweetie Belle. Apple Bloom felt it in her stomach, echoing through her body. At that moment, the earth filly lurched upwards, clumsily pressing her snout against Scootaloo’s gaping lips. Scootaloo, on the other hand, found herself unable to move, on the verge of something that made her shake and moan and push and drool. When those little twitches between Sweetie’s legs suddenly became wet, forceful spurts against the drenched fabric, expanding the stain against her legs rapidly, it became too much for the little pegasus to handle.

Scootaloo wasn’t sure what she shouted. It was loud, it was gibbering, it was muffled by Apple Blooms lips. It rolled through her like thunder, again and again, coming out of her and all over her now soggy rump. What it was, where it came from, what it meant - none of that mattered anymore. Scootaloo’s eyelids fluttered as she pushed and pushed, her own juices sliding down Sweetie Belle’s already thoroughly soaked costume, desperate to keep these wonderful sensations going as long as she could.

Apple Bloom’s lips sucked and tongue worked as hard as it could, but Scootaloo was not giving her the same satisfaction as before. She only panted, quivering, her jaw slack and her balance increasingly unsteady. Pushing into Scootaloo’s snout a little harder, the dazed Apple Bloom was confused when the object of her affections fell backwards, lazily rubbing herself on the wood floor.

Things were starting to feel a little clearer for Apple Bloom. Looking down, she saw Sweetie Belle’s costumed legs - a large dark stain spread outward from between them, darkening her thighs and lower belly. She admired it for a moment, the knowledge that something wasn’t quite right fighting desperately to get through the fog in her head.

Apple Bloom turned her head. The little white unicorn she lay on top of fast asleep, though she twitched occasionally as Apple Bloom shifted.

The little earth filly meant to stand up, but as she started, felt something smooth against her. She’d shifted her back end for only a moment. Between her legs. Apple Bloom relaxed her forehooves, letting out a shuddering sigh as her face fell closer to the wet fabric beneath her. She brushed against Sweetie Belle again. And again.

“...oo. Hey! Scootaloo! Wake up!”

With a snort, Scootaloo’s eyes jerked open. Her mouth tasted strange. Staring up at Apple Bloom’s worried face, Scootaloo had a moment of blissful pause before the memories of what they’d just done came flooding back in an instant. The little pegasus swallowed, her saliva struggling to pass through her dry throat.

“Apple Bloom-” They’d kissed. Scootaloo tried not to think about it. She’d kissed her friend, and she’d liked it. A lot. “Um.”

“Scootaloo, I...” Apple Bloom broke eye contact, quickly recognizing why Scootaloo was acting so bashful. “That’s not important right now. Somethin’s wrong with Sweetie Belle!”

It took more effort that Scootaloo realized to lift her head. Her legs felt soggy - the sensation stirring more vivid memories she didn’t know how to feel about. Her confusion fell to the wayside when she saw Sweetie Belle sprawled out before her.

Lying on her back, as she must have been for quite a while, Sweetie Belle’s forehoof was wedged firmly between her hindlegs. There was barely a spot on her costume’s hindquarters that wasn’t damp, the wetness crawling up her forehoof as it shoved against the outline of her sex. Her voice was dry, small broken squeaks that struggled to escape her windpipe.

Scootaloo jumped up, still feeling a bit woozy. Sweetie’s eyes were glazed over, staring up at some blurry point at the ceiling. Her movements were jerky and spastic, the hoof between her hind legs alternatively kneading hard up and down and sitting there, pressed down.

“Sweetie…?” Scootaloo wandered over to her friend, stumbling. Her wings extended, fluttered, and retracted again. A thick aura of exhaustion weighed down her entire body. It was hard to move, harder to think.

The entire room was heavy with the smell of sweat and musk, the now-familiar and intoxicating odor hanging in the air like a fog. It thickened which each step she took towards Sweetie Belle, until, when she reached her friend, she was gasping it into her lungs. It was so hard to breathe. She would have killed for a glass of water. Applebloom stood away, shifting on her hooves.

“Sweetie Belle?” Scootaloo said. Sweetie Belle responded – maybe? – with a grunt slightly louder than the small, cracked ones she was emitting every few seconds.

“Is she okay?”

“I dunno…she’s…Sweetie Belle, you in there?” Scootaloo said breathlessly, gently nudging her friend’s shoulder.

The sensation started where she touched the costume and spread throughout her body. From that nudge, Sweetie Belle let out a bare, throaty moan and started convulsing on the floor, and the electric pulse of pleasure that coursed through Scootaloo brought wave of memories back. Memories of her body grinding against her friends, grunting noises she never knew she could make. Memories of a messy tangle of sweat-drenched fillies, touching their bodies anywhere they could. Memories of semi-conscious moans as the matted fur between her hindlegs just kept getting more and more wet as she humped against her friend.

Scootaloo blinked, and took a quick step back from Sweetie Belle.

“I gotta…” Applebloom said, pacing back and forth so quickly it was like she was dancing in place, unable to decide where to go. “I gotta...go tell Applejack. Something’s wrong with her.”

Scootaloo tried to respond, but it was hard to talk. Hard to think. So much of her knew what she did was wrong, somehow, but she wanted to do it again, anyway. Just wanted to drag Applebloom over with her and huddle back into a fumbling mess of moans and groping.

Applebloom opened the door to the clubhouse, and the cool air of near-twilight rushed into the room. Instinctively, Scootaloo took a deep breath of it. The crisp taste of it was almost unfamiliar. She could still taste Sweetie Belle on her tongue. She licked her lips, and swallowed.

“Applebloom, wait!” Scootaloo called out, turning around from Sweetie Belle and hoping that simply putting her out of sight would quell all the things she wanted to her defenseless friends, and the ache that echoed from between her hindlegs like a heartbeat.

“What?! We gotta get someone,” Applebloom said, sounding like she was crying, “Something’s wrong with our friend!”

“Don’t tell anyone–”

“Course I’m gonna tell someone, just look at here, she ain’t–”

“No, I mean,” Scootaloo said, “Don’t tell anyone what we...did.”

Applebloom stopped pacing and stared at Scootaloo.

“I mean…” Scootaloo paused. She couldn’t give it words but at the same time just talking about it and thinking about all the stuff that she didn’t want Applebloom to tell her big sister was making her heart race. “We could get in trouble.”

Applebloom was silent for a while. Scootaloo didn’t know what else there was to say.

“...I know. I won’t tell her about that,” Applebloom said, and turned towards the steps. Scootaloo smiled, and started after her.

“I’ve gotta get home, too, clean up this–”

“No!” Applebloom suddenly rounded on her. From this close up, Scootaloo could clearly see that she was in fact crying. At least, that’s what she assumed that wetness on her cheek was from, and not from the time that Scootaloo’s tongue got a little out of control and started licking Applebloom’s face, while she smiled and started licking back–

“You’ve gotta stay here with Sweetie Belle, an’ make sure she don’t wander off or get into any more trouble or anything.” Applebloom said, pointing back to the room where Sweetie’s pitiful noises still echoed.

“It’ll be okay, Scoots. I’ll be back with Applejack soon and everything’ll be okay and we can forget this whole thing ever happened. Just watch her.”

Applebloom marched down the steps. “Oh, and, uh, maybe try to clean yourself up a bit. The whole clubhouse smells like a...” Applebloom trailed off, staring up at her friend. A second later, she turned and dashed off into the darkening woods. Scootaloo watched her go, eager to follow, but, after a minute, turned back and stumbled through the threshold of the clubhouse.

Sweetie Belle had seemed to calm down a bit. Her hoof still made slow circles between her legs, but her groans had become low and infrequent. Scootaloo looked over her friend again, unsure of what to do. She wanted to touch her friend again. That deep, unmentionable thing within her wanted to feel Sweetie Belle again, more than ever. Just one touch. Maybe one touch against that warm, wet spot that felt so nice before…

Sweetie’s eyes were barely open, and despite the heady, hot fog that clouded the clubhouse and Scootaloo’s head, she stopped. Her friend was lying, acting like she had some kind of fever, and all Scootaloo could think of was herself. The little pegasus frowned, sitting down beside her now gently breathing friend.

After a moment, Scootaloo’s eyes fell on the pitcher of lemonade sitting just beyond her. The ice was gone, and the glass was dotted with drops of condensation. Maybe Sweetie Belle could use something to drink. Scootaloo pushed herself to stand up, but her legs barely listened. Her whole body complained, exhausted. She was going to get up. She was going to get Sweetie Belle a glass of lemonade, then Apple Bloom and Applejack would show up and everything would be fine. She was just going to close her eyes for a second.

Sweetie’s face felt hot. Shifting her jaw, she quickly realized she’d been laying in a small puddle of her own drool. Her eyelids opened just a tad, the big orange blur next to her coming in to focus.

Scootaloo. Fast asleep on the floor next to her and snoring loudly. Pushing herself up, Sweetie Belle wiped her cheek with a hoof. Sweetie pulled back, her eyes widening as she stared at her wet hoof and her sleeping friend beside her. Those lips had been on her neck. Those hooves had touched her where no pony had ever touched her…

Her whole body felt like a mess. Her legs and tail were soaked, along with a small spot on her chest. Did she remember Apple Bloom saying something about getting Applejack? Applejack couldn’t see her like this. Couldn’t see what she had done with her friends. Sweetie Belle’s mind reeled. Something was wrong with her. She needed to leave. Had to go home and clean herself up.

Sweetie’s legs trembled with each step she took toward the door of the clubhouse. The wet costume tugged against her flanks, her legs, that place between them - it could feel so good if she reached back there again. Taking controlled breaths through her nose, Sweetie Belle took slow, steady steps down the ramp. The setting sun cast long shadows from the surrounding trees, and the little unicorn took a deep breath of lukewarm air before stepping forward.

She was going to go home, take off her costume, and forget that this ever happened.