Chapters

Actions speak louder... (Spitfire and Big Macintosh)
Mochas and Melodies (Rumble, Caramel and Vinyl Scratch)
A Private Party (Spike and Pinkie Pie)
Hearth's Warming Day
Epilogue: Eyes
You're not drunk, I'm drunk! (Rainbow Dash and Applejack)
A Spoonful of Sugar (Apple Bloom, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon)

Actions speak louder... (Spitfire and Big Macintosh)
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Cold Drinks and Warm Hearts

Actions speak louder... (Spitfire and Big Macintosh)

"That... that... GUY!" cries out a shrill, tomboyish voice from behind me. I don’t need to look back there to know exactly who it is. She’s about as subtle as an exploding train. On a blimp. “J'accuse! I call shenanigans!"

Keeping this glass of sweet apple cider up to my lips is all I can do to not bust my gut laughing. I’m actually creating bubbles in the drink from trying not to. When I can’t keep it in anymore, I set the drink down on the counter and let my large laugh out into my gloved hand.

Big Macintosh looks at me like I’ve got an offensive word written on my head. I look up at him (Way, way, way up, he’s so tall), and try to keep my laughter under wraps. “D-don’t look now, but I, uh, I think one of my trainees just found out who her idol is sweet on.”

Mac smiles and returns to his beverage. Keeping discreet, he slightly turns to look at Rainbow Dash. Out of the corner of my eye I can see her making broad sweeping actions like she’s in a Trotway performance.

“She’ll be okay,” I say. “One of the big reasons I keep her as a Wonderbolts trainee is because she always finds some way to bounce back.” I snicker at an old memory of her missing a few teeth due to an informal meeting with a cliff face. “Emotionally and physically.”

It’d be a shame to waste Hearth’s Warming Eve dwelling on work. After months of talent scouting in Ponyville and its surrounding cities (The talent in Canterlot is weak, Dodge and Appleoosa are nothing but earth ponies...) as well as checking up on Rainbow Dash’s skill set, I haven’t had time to take on an actual, full-on break.

Well, except for the time I’ve spent with the big guy sitting next to me. He has been my only solace throughout all of this workload. And for that, I couldn’t hope to be more grateful. I reach out and touch his beefy hand. It’s twice the size of mine, easily, but I still give it the best affectionate squeeze I can.

Mac is a strange case, in the way that he can say so much by doing so little. It helps that he’s chiller than a snowball in a fridge on a mountaintop. It’s as if he speaks with his heart rather than his mouth. So, what would be annoying and troublesome in any other pony is wonderful and endearing in him. In a way, he and I have grown closer through near silence than most couples would through talking. That’s a feat.

In truth, I hadn’t planned on drinking tonight. Nor do I plan on getting drunk. But it made for a nice excuse to get away from Sweet Apple Acres for a while, see the decorations for Hearth’s Warming Eve… But the primary excuse? I want to loosen up a little to get something off my chest.

One drink will be enough. But here’s the kicker; I’m down to the last sips of cider in my glass. That is my countdown to when I’ll have to fess up.

One hand is holding Big Macintosh’s tight. The other reaches for the glass…

“Captain Spitfire.”

I jump out of my bar stool a little, and my wings flare out from the shock. I turn my head to whoever the hell that was. Ah, it’s that athletically built pegasus colt with spiky hair, and he’s standing at attention, like we’re actually on duty.

“What’s up, Soarin?” I ask.

He shies away a little bit, and I know why.

For being such a stick in the mud, I stand up and give him a friendly sock to the shoulder. “Come on, you. It’s Hearth’s Warming Eve. This is everypony’s day of rest, and I’m seeing a significant lack of resting on your end.”

But, like the stick in the mud he is, he doesn’t relax, and instead opts to continue standing still, like he’s awaiting orders from me or something. But I suppose I can work with that. If he needs orders, I can fill the part. I hop out of my seat, and my internal switch goes from lax and leisurely to captain mode.

“Private Soarin!”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

“You were invited to this party to kick back and enjoy yourself for once in your life and like Tartarus I’m gonna let you get away with not exploiting that privilege!” I place my hands on my hips and lean in close. While by all accounts I’m not all that tall compared to Soarin, these months with Big Mac have acclimatized me to that. Plus, I tower over Soarin in spirit anyway. “Now get back to your booth and order a round or I’ll have you court martialed for having a metal pole up your ass!”

I see his mouth tick a little. “Uh, funny you should say that…” Slowly, he begins to loosen up, finally dropping his shoulders and breathing regularly.

“What do you mean?” I ask, turning off captain mode.

Soarin smiles and gestures back to where I assume the booth is. “I actually met somepony.”

“And?” I raise my brow at him.

He blushes, silently scratching the back of his neck. This is exactly what worried me when I found out he was coming along to this little brouhaha. A typical Wonderbolt dedicate, with his head turned to the sky and not to a decent social life. Honestly, I find his dorkiness to be a bit of a turn-on. I can only hope this certain somepony of his feels the same.

“Captain.” The dork begins to take his leave.

I call out after him, “I expect you to be good and buzzed by the time you leave this place!”

There’s a familiar sensation on my back, one that tells me that Big Mac is watching me. It’s a sort of sixth sense that I’ve developed, what with him being too quiet to say hello most of the time. I turn to him, shrugging at his curious expression. “What?”

“You’re cute when you yell.”

That’s the first thing he’s said all night. And if that’s all he’s gonna say tonight, well, that’d be just fine. “Oh, come on. You know I’m cute no matter what I do.”

“Eeyup.”

Alright, here we go.

I huggle him from the side, nuzzling my snout against his strong neck, then give him a small peck on the cheek. Hopefully that’ll be a teaser trailer of the main event later. Assuming all goes well. But first, there’s something I need to do.

See, there are some things that just have to be said, but they have to be said in the right place at the right time. And there are some things you feel. You might think you feel it, heck, there will be times when you know you feel it. But you can really only recognize the feeling when you’re actually, uh, feeling it.

Long story short, I’ve got a feeling that needs to be put out into the open. And speaking of out in the open…

Still huggling Big Mac, I tap him on the shoulder. “You wanna get out of here, buddy?”

Like the gentlecolt he is, he hands me my aviator jacket.

Mac's eyes widen as he steps away, and in the process he lets me go. His cheeks are a much more intense red than the rest of his body, only made more noticeable by all the snow falling on him. "Huh?" he simply asks.

I retract my eyes a little bit, feeling that small twinge of doubt that now was the right moment to say such a thing. But as I said, I only feel a twinge. I've learned to ignore it whenever it comes up. When you're flying into the heat of battle, an avalanche on one side and a hydra snapping at you on the other, you don't really have time to listen to the small churning in your gut, telling you that you've done something wrong. I don’t need to listen to it here, either, because there is nothing wrong with this moment.

My eyes turn back to Big Mac. He's still wearing his mild shock clear as day and his mouth is entirely flat and closed. I open my mouth and repeat what made him so stunned. "I said, I love you."

He shifts his weight ever so slightly. His adorable blush hasn't faded in the slightest, but he has lost the initial worn shock, which has been replaced with a warm smile. There's something about Big Macintosh that makes him worlds different from any other stallion I've fallen in with. Every sweet, loving or even mildly affectionate gesture he ever shows is like a grand romantic performance out of a ye olde Equestrian folktale. Only, about six times as heartwarming. And these last few months I've spent next to him are proof of that. He has had a lot of stones to win me over, but I get a much stronger gut feeling that he hasn't even been trying.

As his smile gets wider and wider across his chiseled muzzle, I step closer to him. "Do you love me?" I ask.

I assume he takes a moment for his brain to catch up. After what feels like the perfect amount of time, he firmly replies, "Eeyup," and gives an assuring nod.

That was devastatingly simple, and frankly, I’m relieved. I’ve said something I’ve wanted to make the big lug… Nah, my big lug aware of for weeks now. As far as a cheesy romantic story goes, I think I’ve picked a good time and place to say it. Here on an old street in this old town of Ponyville, the snow blanketing the sound of my shuffling feet. I get a little bit closer to Mac. Eyes-forward, I only come up to his pecs. Not that I’m complaining. I look up to his family trademarked field green eyes just in time to receive his hand to my head. He gives my mane a tousle, which makes me all the more thankful I’ve decided to wear it down tonight.

Mac always looks good no matter what he wears or how. After living in the clouds my whole life, seeing all the pegasi with their swept back hair and meticulously combed fur, it’s nice to see a furry stallion. Heck, his whole family is fuzzy. Figures that all he’s wearing is a black shirt and cargo pants, with some cool moccasins over his hooves. Damn him for being so huggable. I trail a finger up his perfectly toned chest before locking my arms around him. He’s broad enough to keep my hands from touching. And, of course, he hugs me back. He’s large enough to crush me without breaking a sweat but he’s far too gentle to know that.

If there is one place I can fully wrap my arms around him, it’s his head. I do so, then stand on the very tip of my combat boots, just barely able to reach his lips with mine. He makes the effort much easier by meeting me halfway. There’s this thing with Mac, though; as much as I love his kisses, as wonderful as they feel, he is just plain goofy at it. It doesn’t help that I have a relatively small muzzle, and his is, well, his. He doesn’t so much meet my lips as he does nom on my face.

I slide my hands down to his shoulders... His perfect, broad, an entire lifetime of hard, sweaty work shoulders. That shirt perfectly accentuates his pecs, geez... You could grind meat on those. I mean, not that you would. Still, I can't imagine how many trees he rocks in one day.

As my fingers carve their way further along his back, I feel a bit of a fantasy coming on. Eh, more of a memory. I remember one of the first times I laid eyes on my Mac. It was near the end of the Summer, during one of Rainbow Dash's trial runs. It was right out of a fairy tail; he was stretching his arms, showing off his strength by knocking every last apple off a tree with a single punch. I remember immediately feeling a bout of sweat coming on... Don't actually recall how the rest of Rainbow Dash's trial went.

I'm about to touch somewhere very dangerous, especially in public, but something even sexier than that stops me. Mac stops the kiss, then nuzzles my cheek. Again, he's surprisingly gentle. But one of his strong, warm breaths catches my ear, and my legs nearly buckle. Damn him... He knows my weak spots so well, he can have me anywhere, any time he wants.

That's it. He got me. I gotta have him now. Like, right now. I reach into my pocket, then show off a certain key to a certain place. In that romance novel I mentioned, it’d be the key to my heart. But Mac already had it when he emptied that wet towel over his bare chest after punching and kicking all those trees… Oh, Celestia…

The key glimmers in the light of the colorful Hearth’s Warming decor. I see that glimmer in my Mac’s eye as he takes my hand. This is the part where he whisks me away into the night, wrapping me in a strong half-embrace and leading me to my apartment.

And he’s only spoken four times tonight.

The only time we have to separate, and this is the moment I dreaded the whole walk here, is when we have to climb the stairs to my apartment. I can only thank Celestia that the trek up the stairs is so brief.

In many ways, moving to Ponyville was an unusual decision, but it has been a solid call for work reasons. I’m able to get out more, the airspace is broader and less restrictive, not to mention less dense with other potential trainees, and if I, the captain, wanna find the real talented fliers out there, I gotta start searching in areas where flying isn’t taught as a basic curriculum.

But, obviously, the greatest benefit to moving to this country town was that it brought me closer to the point where Big Mac’s path and mine intersected. From that point onward, we’ve walked hand in hand. And now we’re here, completely and, dare I say, irreversibly intersected in each other’s lives.

There are two doors here. One is marked with my orange and red lightning bolt, and the other, leading to the unoccupied apartment, is fittingly unmarked. That’s promising. That means Mac and I won’t be waking anypony up, and that means there’s absolutely nothing to suggest this evening will be anything but perfect.

I turn the key in the lock while Mac holds me from behind. I’d have this thing open in a heartbeat but I’m distracted by a very blatant sign that he’s just as pumped for this as I am. I can feel it brushing against my rump. Oh, Macintosh, you naughty boy.

Wait, does he have something in his pocket? Or is that… "Oh. Oh, gosh. Is that really…? You're..."

"Eeyup," he mumbles with a blush.

It’s been a while since we’ve wrestled. I’d nearly forgotten how fantastic he was beneath his denim. It’s not so much the length or the girth; it’s the fact that, well… I’ll explain later. Either way, feeling it brushing me, even through our thick layers of winter clothes, makes my fur catch metaphorical fire.

The lock goes click. "My, my! This just might be the best Hearth's Warming Eve ever!" I open the door. I shoot a sultry glare at my stallion and wink at him. A classic move. “Come inside and get your gift, big boy.”

The state of my apartment, however, is almost enough to kill the mood, as well as how heated I was starting to feel with that… thing brushing against me. Like I said, almost. One would think a captain of an elite flying team would have their place in a better state. My clothes litter the floor, and the kitchen is home to scattered bowls and plates aplenty.

I look at Mac sheepishly as I remove my combat boots and socks. He doesn’t seem to mind the mess. Then again, this is the guy who has had two younger siblings to look after for the better part of his life. He steps inside after me and closes the door. Again, gentlecolt. Then he looks at his hand, noticing how much dust he picked up from the doorknob.

That’s puzzling. I go over past the counter to the kitchen area and run my fingers over the top of my fridge. Yep, that’s a lot of dust. There must be at least a few weeks’ worth of dust in this place...

I realize something as Mac and I share the same face of realization; I’ve been living at Sweet Apple Acres for the past month and a half.

Never really thought about it… Time flies, I guess. After Mac and I decided to keep things going steady, I found myself waking up more often than not to the roof of his room, and over time, the ceiling to my room became the unfamiliar one. Unfortunately, I still had to return to this dump eventually. Ah, well. It’s still my dump.

The option to get out the duster and liberate this place is tempting, but it can wait until I’m entirely sober. And I really can’t wait much longer. I have something, rather, somepony more important to attend to, and he’s… taking his shirt off. “Somepony’s eager,” I remark, getting a simple shrug and smile from the big guy.

Being an athlete, I’m conditioned to be more fond of athletically built stallions. It’s just what I’ve grown up with. As for musclehead bodybuilders, like that minotaur who makes all those self-help videos, I can’t help but find them insufferable. What’s the least bit fun about lugging all that thick? Well, Mac has a body all his own, with subtle curves in all the right places and a perfect blend of fur and definition.

I move away from the kitchen to stand close to my beloved. Reaching out, I feel his pecs again, this time unhindered. Stupid cold weather requires him to wear stupid clothes all the time, so I’m spared this sight far too often. I can’t wait for next summer… Wait… Yeah, I can definitely picture myself with Big Mac half a year from now. No question.

Keeping my touch firmly on his muscles, I move up and kiss him once again. I’m more passionate this time around, since there aren’t any eyes to snoop on us. I throw in a little tongue when his meaty hand lightly gropes my head, brushing through my mane. “Mmm…” He tastes good.

“Fire…” he whispers. He made up that nickname for me on our fourth date. Frankly, I think that’s absolutely adorable. I won’t let anypony else call me that, ever. I remember that date well… We went to see the fourth Daring Do movie. It was just… awful. But I had been too busy making out with Mac in the back seat to care. And then I undid his zipper… Ooh. Idea.

While Mac indulges me with his gentle kiss, I reach behind him, feeling for the door to my bedroom. We both forgoed turning the lights on, plus I’ve got an eyeful of red face blocking my vision, so it’s difficult for me to get a grip on the doorknob. Ah, there it is.

I open the door just a little bit, ‘cause that’s all I need for later. A sort of… investment.

In the meantime, I wanna give my Mac a little show. I’m sure we both can agree he’s been a wonderful lover, and somepony like him should not go so long without seeing this Wonderbolt naked. Reluctantly, I stop touching his pecs and tug at the collar of my jacket. “Couldja help me out of this?”

He nods, and slides his hands underneath my jacket, loosening its hold and letting it slide off my arms all the easier. As it falls to the ground, I notice that it’s gotten a little colder, but also a little hotter. It’s far more exciting when somepony else undresses me, and Big Mac’s soft touch is truly a blessing in that act.

So now I’m down to my white blouse. In hindsight, a t-shirt would have been better. Mac could have just lifted it over my head and we’d be set for revealing my secret, but I had to choose the one with the buttons… But Mac doesn’t see much difficulty. He slips his thumbs underneath and rips the whole thing off without so much as a breath. “Oh,” I say in surprise, letting the blouse join my jacket. And now my combed yellow fur is revealed to him, a fact I relish as I kiss him again. Our naked torsos fit together like drops of water. Well, mostly naked.

I look down at my chest, a little ashamed about my bandages, which restrain my breasts. Yeah, I’m a D-cup, which is by all means nothing to snuff at, but for somepony aiming for perfect flight, breasts of this size tend to get in the way. As such, I have to bind them.

But when Mac gropes me, I don’t feel bad about having such a large chest. I know how much he loves big bazongas over mini maguppies.

For once though, my breasts aren't a big focus. Suddenly getting very excited, Mac is already starting to get my cargo pants off. This stallion sure is eager today, but hey, I'm not gonna argue. I'm just gonna sit back and enjoy every bit of this.

I feel the blood rush to my face when he works the the waistband to my knees. He’s going so slowly, almost as if to tease me. Damn it all, it’s working... He takes his sweet time in getting them down to my ankles, not even taking them off. I wanna moan a little. Y'know, in retrospect, I'm actually really glad that I wore thick black panties today, because if I hadn't, well… Mac would be able to tell exactly how I feel about him right now.

When he finally strips me of my lower garments, I’m left in nothing but my panties and my bandages. Before I can try and act all sexy for Mac, he starts smothering me in kisses again. It’s aggressive the way he goes for me, but I really enjoy this side of him. The soft spoken farm boy, often seen doing nothing but work... Feeling him do some pretty good work on your body is a true fantasy, lemme tell ya.

“You look good, Fire.”

“Not so bad yourself, big boy…” I whisper back. Hearing him call me that name again that makes my mind wander. "I've never really liked the nickname 'Spits,' ya know?"

He shakes his head softly, lazily tracing arcs on my wing joints. I kiss him before grinning cheekily.

"You of all ponies should know it doesn't fit me," I say with a purr, my mouth right next to his ear. "I swallow." He shivers beneath me, his chest heaving as his breath hitches. My wings flare out as he presses his fingers into the base of my wing muscles.

"Eeyup," he declares with as much dignity he can muster. I let out a moan as he trails a few kisses up my neck. Mmm, it’s always fun teasing him, but his teasing is great, too.

It’s time for my investment to pay off. My hands hover over Mac’s chest, fingers wiggling in naughty anticipation. “And, speaking of which…” I shove him. Catching him off guard, he stumbles back through the door to my room. I see his shocked expression turn to one of amusement, and he plays along, letting himself fall back onto my bed.

He sits up as I step in, swaying my hips for him. He’s obviously very pleased to see me, and I’m sure he’s also pleased about the many framed posters that line the walls. Ah, the spoils of the other half of my workload with the Wonderbolts.

I always have found an odd sort of thrill in shooting pinups. It must be the attention. Or perhaps it’s the extra payload. Either way, I find myself drawn to one of my first posters; a fairly tame one, with me holding an assault rifle over my shoulder. I’m wearing a tan jumpsuit, which is undone to my stomach, and I’m without a bra. At least I can be shameless about the twins when I’m posing for a centerfold.

Over the helm of my bed is a more risque pose. I’m wearing my cargo pants and a short-cut tank top, winking at the camera while my fellow Wonderbolts lift weights in the background. Next to that is a rather raunchy shot of me straddling a non-elemental magic missile in nothing but my ceremonial jacket. Soarin sits on another missile, wearing his slacks and boots but no shirt. That was a boost to our female demographic.

Mac’s gaze, as well as mine, travels up to the poster that spans the ceiling. It’s my personal favorite. I’m walking along a cloud in this one, approaching an airborne hot tub. It’s a full shot of my naked back while I peer mischievously to whoever might be looking at me. I’m holding a drape over my ass that reads, ‘Care to join, soldier?’ That one alone bolstered enlistment rates by twenty percent.

“Hot, aren’t they?” I ask Mac.

He nods enthusiastically.

I find the knot that holds my bandages together and begin to pull it loose. My breasts start to show their true size. "And lucky you... You can see the real deal." The bandages come off in a decorative twirl, like I’m in a fancy reneighssance era painting.

Laughing all the while, I leap onto the bed, right into Mac’s glomping embrace. We’re hardly static; I keep tracing kisses along his neck, cheek, and a few on his lips, and I keep wrestling him to be on top. Granted, I’m not averse to the idea of being pinned to the bed while he fucks me senseless, and I’m gonna get to that part, believe me, but for now I wanna see him squirm.

When I say that he loves my breasts, let me be perfectly clear; he worships them. They’re likely the only part of me that he can squeeze with all of his strength without holding back. And he exploits that, groping them fiercely. He runs his muzzle between my cleavage and kisses my nips like they belong to royalty. But Princess Celestia’s bust has nothing on mine, I know that much.

I do everything I can within playfulness to get back on top, but he’s the powerhouse here. He locks one arm around me and presses me into the mattress. I can feel his girth against my legs as he nuzzles me. Welp, it seems like I’m gonna be the submissive one tonight. Wait a minute... Ah, my legs! I bring them both around Mac’s torso and force him off of me, at the same time bringing myself around to get on top of him.

“You stay right there,” I say, both menacingly and sultrily. He plays along, even though I know he knows he could have me at his mercy in a second. It’s the unusual mix of danger and serenity that makes my loins flush with nectar.

I turn around on him, splaying myself across the whole length of his large body. By all accounts, he could swipe my panties right from my legs and go to town on my clam, but he knows better than that. Why? I hate being licked. It ain’t right. At least in my book.

But Big Mac, well… He’s a different story. I know how much he loves my mouth on his body. I kiss his belly, then his pelvis… Any lower and he’ll be in heaven. But first, I have to emancipate him from these cargo pants.

While I undo the button and zipper, Mac sees fit to make this as difficult as possible by groping my ass, kneading what little flab I have. Emphasis on little. The prepubescent kids who masturbate to my posters keep sending me Hearth’s Warming sweets. What am I supposed to do? Not eat those? The same questions go for Mac’s special friend buried beneath his boxer-briefs. It becomes much more visible now that I’ve pushed his pants further down his legs. I can actually see it bulging, nearly making the existence of his underwear meaningless. He’d need to double up to keep his pride under wraps. Not that I’d let him.

I admit defeat to Mac’s ministrations on my flank. He wants to get a handful of me? Well, I can counter that attack. I slip my hands underneath his cloth, usher it down to join the pants and… jackpot.

I can’t stress this enough; I love Mac’s cock. I don’t care if I sound like a slut or the deacon of some sort of depraved penis church. Mac’s thick, long, black dick and I have a special relationship, one that cannot be comprehended by simpler minded ponies. Then again, get to know a stallion in bed for long enough and you begin to know his stallionhood. I sure do with Mac’s. I know its likes, dislikes, and just exactly how to touch it.

Mac stops touching me when I grab ahold of his dick with both hands (Trust me, I need both) and give him a good long stroke. For being so large, it, like the rest of my coltfriend, is very sensitive. It twitches, obviously excited to feel my touch once again. I keep pleasing Big Mac’s big cock with more slow and proper strokes, smiling at the sound of his deep and quiet moans. I must be good to make him call out my name. “Ah, Fire…”

“Yes, baby, you like this. I know.” Those are the last words out of my mouth before I decide to indulge myself a little bit more. I ask again; what am I supposed to do? I’m not about to forget how much Mac loves it when I kiss the head of his thick cock. And he likes it even more, dragging the covers in approval, when I flick the tip with my tongue, and let it pass my lips.

If there’s one thing Mac loves me for, it’s my blowjobs. And, frankly, I rather like giving them. There’s something so satisfying about being in complete control over a stallion with only my mouth. I can feel every vein and pulsation of his pride against my tongue and gums. Needless to say, with a decorated history of bedfellows, I’ve gained a lot of experience in the art of sucking dick.

Even with my mouth around his shaft, I can still find enough room to pump it, coaxing little delicious globs of precum onto my tongue. I also take time to softly fondle his testicles. It’s just a little treat for me and him.

A lot of minutes pass as I switch between fondling, licking, sucking and stroking my special friend, and as they pass I can feel Mac getting more and more restless. Of course he is. His dick is like warm coal at this point. I’m surprised he’s held on so long for me. But I can only guess he wants my Hearth’s Warming present to be a big one.

I stroke him quickly, running my fingers over every inch of him. “You can cum if you want, buddy. Let it all out.”

I can feel his tension disappear. Clearly he’s been holding it in, waiting for my approval. But I know what’s gonna happen now. It’s the mutual reward for a wonderful blowjob.

As his stream hits the back of my throat, I let out a small moan of excitement. His seed fills my mouth with a surprisingly refreshing and pleasant taste. A little bit of his cum leaks out of the corner of my mouth. Mmm, there’s a lot of him tonight! Even when he’s entirely finished, I don’t bother to take his stallionhood out of my mouth. I just swallow his big load, lips on dick and all. I felt a little tingle in my special place as my Mac tilts his head back and let out a satisfied sigh.

Another dollop of him passes my lips onto his still erect cock. Goddesses, so much of it... It takes me a few gulps to get it all down. Even the aftertaste isn't half bad. It at least warrants giving him another long, strong lick to clean up the rest of his seed. I never let a job go incomplete.

I rise up, still straddling Mac’s chest. He has a full view of my naked back, but I change that view to that of my breasts and longing eyes. I rest my hands on each side of his head and simply smile at him. And he smiles back at me. “You’re beautiful,” he says.

Does he have any idea how warm that makes me feel? A poet could comprise an entire album of words in confession of my beauty but it would mean nothing compared to the words of this quiet farm boy, because he only speaks when he feels something needs to be said.

A little nod of his queues me to dive in for our most intimate kiss of the night, so close that I can see and feel the individual fibers of his coat. While his movement is minimal, aside from holding me closer to him in his mighty clutch, I’m the one who grinds him, mashing my breasts against his bare chest and fondling his cock between my legs. It’s a good thing my legs are so powerful, or I’d never be able to handle him.

While one of Mac’s hands stays firmly on my back, occasionally massaging the bridge between my wings and making me moist, the other sees fit to travel. His meaty fingers slide beneath my panties. I know what’s on his mind right now. It’s been hard for me too, waiting for the only thing that could bring us closer together.

I join him in the effort to do away with my panties, helping him slide them down my legs. I bend my knees and take over the job when my underwear goes out of his reach. When they reach my calves, I decide to take the lazy approach and kick ‘em off. They can land in another dimension for all I care; all that matters to me is being completely nude, snuggling my beloved Mac. I trace some sort of figure into his pecs to the rhythm of his breath passing my ear.

His eyes widen very slightly, as if he forgot something. “Oh.”

Evidently, he did forget something. Before I can get comfortable using his washboard chest as a bed, however, he moves a little, reaching out to my dresser. He opens the very top drawer and searches beneath my shirts for a certain something. His smile becomes larger as he conjures up two XL Centurions. Ah, the only rubber that’s enough to contain him.

So it’s within good reason for him to look surprised when I take both those packages and toss them into the same place of who-cares as my underwear. “You don’t need those tonight,” I reassure him. “I started taking something.”

No, I’m not one of those immature brats who just says that so they can have a kid. I’m at the height of my career, baby. I’m not about to throw that away with some stupid lie. Granted, having a child with Mac… Well, that’s something I can imagine happening. Eventually. But for now, I just want some good, old fashioned, all-Equestrian fun.

Now Mac just looks devious, knowing he can just let loose. I remember in the past, whether I was on top, underneath, on the front porch, in the barn, in the park, at work, uh, I’m getting off topic… I always had a feeling that he was holding back, for one reason or another, but the other day I decided to try something new. It’s just as much for me as it is for him, and he knows that; he bends his knees, scooching up and further sandwiching his pride between my upper legs. I can feel our heat colliding. I swear, you could cook hayfries beneath my cooch right now. I mean, not that you would…

I’ve lost my train of thought because the head of my special friend is knocking at the door, rubbing against my lips. I rub back with a roll of my hips, keeping him firmly pressed against me. “Don’t pull any punches, okay?” I whisper, my breath heavy with want.

I don’t wait for Mac to respond before I let him inside. Slowly, almost stressfully, his girth fills my insides. I can feel all of him in my walls. Even after months, I still feel so tight around him. It’s almost a perfect match. I gasp as I feel him throb within me.

“Oh Goddesses, you feel good.” That was only a preview and I still can’t comprehend how nice it was. I rake through the fur of Mac’s chest, sliding myself down his shaft until the pressure tells me I can’t go any further. If I let him inside any more, I could seriously mess something up. I almost welcome it.

So here we are, merged in body and heart. The ultimate bond. All that’s left is to decide who is going to hump who. Tenderly rubbing Mac’s pelvis, I ask him, “How good was I at sucking your giant dick, baby?”

The little squeeze of my tush and the grin he gives me are enough of an answer.

“Good. Then… then I think it’s fair that you return the favor.” I shudder as I rise, making room for him to thrust inside with all of his strength. “I want you to please me.”

And like the amazing lover that he is, he agrees wholeheartedly, pumping into me. He keeps his torso entirely still, allowing me to hold on for dear life and just surrender to each mighty thrust of his. I don’t have to do much to meet him; he presents enough power for both of us to enjoy the ride, but I do help the experience ever so slightly by gyrating my hips, drenching his beautiful dick in my nectar. I’m surprised my panties, wherever they are, weren’t soaked through when I did away with them.

It doesn’t take too much time of Mac pushing into me before my voice is lost to moaning. I can’t help it. I can’t stay composed while my cheeks and pussy burn for my love’s passion and power. Even as he dedicates everything he has to making me his mare, and giving me all I could ever want from him, he still keeps those field green eyes glued on me, like I’m his whole world. He doesn’t sully the issue with dirty words; I could never imagine him doing anything like that. All he ever needs to be is himself.

When he pauses and takes a few heavy breaths, I’m filled with such want for him that I start fucking myself on his rock hard shaft, rolling my hips to my own breath. “Oh, baby~…”

But he denies me the pleasure for just a little bit longer, grappling me by my waist and turning over, taking me with him. It’s a good thing my bed is so soft, or else it might have actually hurt when I hit it. I look up at Mac in a bit of confusion but his calm demeanor, for the record, convinces me to go along with this.

“Heh. Alright, come here…” I say, watching with great fascination as he takes his position, looming over me like some grand, muscular ceiling. To anypony else, this’d be intimidating, and for good reasons. Mac lowering himself over me, for an instant, feels like being crushed. But because I trust him and have already given myself away to him entirely, I know he wishes nothing more to be soft and tender, at least in regards to how he holds me. He’s all a rigid stallion elsewhere. “Come on, give it to me…”

With one fell thrust, he pierces me with no hesitation whatsoever. That’s how you can tell we work so well together. It’s like dancing, in the way that our movements coincide, there’s a lot of sweat, and we’re probably gonna feel really tired after we’re done.

“Mmmma…. Oooh… Aaah…” A while ago he was so thick and solid inside of me, and while that’s still the case, I’ve poured out for him so much that I’ve coated his shaft in my nectar. There’s so little resistance between my pussy and his thick cock. Big Mac… You are truly worthy of your namesake. I should count myself so lucky to have your cock. But I do, so that’s that. “Ah, oh, for fuck’s sake…” I only say that because there’s still a lot of disbelief that I found the perfect stallion.

Mac kisses me again and returns to his epic thrusts. I’m treated to a musky scent carried in the sweat of his chest and abs. He smells of grass and flowers, two scents I never cared for until I got to know him. My head was quite literally in the clouds back then… I’m getting a whisk of that feeling again as me rams into me. I remember when he showed me his secret garden behind his favorite apple tree. It’s a garden of every flower I can think of, and he gave me his rarest; a naturally grown blue rose.

And speaking of roses… “Aaaah, OH! Oh, baby…” His muzzle passes over my mane, and I inhale that scent of flowers in tandem with a powerful moan. I try to keep control of my bucking hips. No good. In doing that, I’m massaging his thighs and ass with my own legs. It’s like I’m begging for more. Ah, to hell with it. Might as well. “Oooh, you beautiful fucking farmboy… Yes… Give it to me…” I murr for him louder and louder each time his cock graces my walls.

He leans to the side, only enough to slow down a little bit and extend his arm down the length of my thrashing body. “Baby… what are you—” And then Big Mac is touching my clit. “OOOH! Ah, what the fuck… You can’t just… Oh, you son of a bitch…” I say all of that with a smile on my face. My hooves stretch out uncontrollably, though that’s the extent of what I can feel beyond the blood in my cheeks and the nerves of my nethers calling out and leaking for him.

And that’s where he fucks me over the edge. He rams into me with every last amount of energy he’s been holding in for me. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; there’s no restraint in him tonight. His pride is so hard, so hot… For once, I don’t just feel like he’s making love to me, I feel like he’s becoming one with me. Like there’s some untapped reservoir of love for me brought on by… something… This has to be from me saying I love him. Unless, there’s something else… Something amazing, something beautiful, something, oh, something, oh, fuck. Fuck. So good. Give it to me, Mac, come on, yes, yes, yes. Cumming. YES.

I clasp his cheeks and look him dead in the eyes. They’re glazed over. He hasn’t looked away from me or blinked this whole time. “Don’t you dare pull out, don’t you dare, oooh… Inside, fuck, yes, cum inside me…”

His warm love for me takes liquid form, coating my insides in a tidal burst. I can’t imagine any of it dripping out, I’m so tight around him… I hiss and tense up at his second wave, yet the third brings me to a relaxing breath of relief and serenity. I could not be any more satisfied. Hell, even if I never had that orgasm, I would have been happy anyway, just being with my Mac… He’s still cumming. I might just overflow. Oh, who am I kidding, I’m already overflowing, just with something other than seed.

And now there’s that awkward moment between us, stiff and still in our post-orgasm positions. Aside from the occasional twitch or garbled moan, its only a matter of waiting until one of us comes down. And fortunately for me, it seems that the stallion towering over me decides to relax his muscles first.

I take advantage of Mac’s small moment of weakness (He still hasn’t blinked) and press up against him, then force him onto his side. We’re equal again, in a mutual lovers’ caress, with nopony overpowering another. It’s time for us to share this bed as a couple… Though with any luck, I’ll wake up in the middle of the night, horny, wet and still rarin’ to go. Mac never says no to me when that happens.

Our breaths merge once again as we lie muzzle to muzzle. I rest my hand on his thick neck and plant one more kiss against his strong lips. I continue to lazily stroke his blonde mane and stare dreamily as I reach down, grab the covers and pull them over. So much stallion contained within a mighty hunk of an equine. I’m the luckiest mare in the freakin’ universe.

Heh, he’s still hard inside of me… I don’t plan on doing anything with that, but mashing my pelvis against his clues him in that I don’t want him to remove that thing. I want to remain as close as possible to him tonight.

But there’s just one thing this night is missing. I say quietly to my Mac, “Hey… I wanna hear you say it, just once.”

He tilts his head up from his pillow. Apparently he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. Silly boy.

“You know what I mean, buddy…”

His eyes dart around a little bit before he finally blinks, a smile coming to his muzzle. Now he gets it. In that wonderfully soft, deep voice of his, I hear him say, “I love you, Fire.”

There you go.

Mochas and Melodies (Rumble, Caramel and Vinyl Scratch)
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Cold Drinks and Warm Hearts

Mochas and Melodies (Rumble, Caramel and Vinyl Scratch)

You know those days where you think nothing’s ever gonna get better for you? I mean that in a good way, like, no matter what comes up, I couldn’t be happier. And, to be honest, I don’t really have a good reason to be happy, I just am. But maybe that’s just the holiday spirit rubbing off on me.

Pinkie Pie is a saint for inviting me to this get-together. I hadn’t planned on doing anything for Hearth’s Warming Eve anyway. My parents are off with family, and I deliberately chose not to go. The last thing I wanna do is spend a sentimental fundamentalist holiday (don’t get me wrong, I still love this time of year) with my sentimental fundamentalist parents. The only present I need this year is some time alone in the house. Even then, it does get lonely for a teenage boy. Which is why, when Pinkie passed me an invite during my shift at Sugarcube Corner, I didn’t hesitate to take her up on it after I washed all the confetti out of my mane. Messed up my gel...

So, this is a good night. I have my Nymph (it’s my favorite lemon-lime soda), I have my headphones, and I have DJ Pon3’s smooth mix of electronica and rock playing in my head, which I casually nod to while I watch everypony else socialize.

No, I haven’t really talked to many people aside from saying a brief “Hey-o,” or “What’s up?” but I have made myself known, which is good enough for me. I’d rather be seen and not heard in a public place than spend it alone at home.

The opportunity to be social comes around as Caramel breaks away from his group of musclehead friends, heading to the counter. I guess he’s getting another round. It has been a while since I’ve really sat and talked with him, so I guess I can come out of my shell for a little while.

I drop my phones around my neck and wave to him. “Yo, Carm!”

He stops his strutting, turning to see me. He’s showing off a green and black polo shirt and black khakis. Humble. Being the social dude he his, he immediately smiles and swaggers my way. “There’s the little dude! How’s it hanging?”

Before I can react he grapples me in bone breaking hug. Yeah, he’s one of those friendly guys. Ah, hell. I hug him back. “Good to see you, bro.”

Even though I didn’t really invite him to, though I was planning on it, Caramel joins me in the booth. He sits cross legged, one arm up on the table and the other across my back, his hand resting on my shoulder. It’s nothing new to me; that’s how he sits with everyone. Even my brother.

“It’s been a while,” Caramel says. “Haven’t seen Thunderlane in, what, a few months? Yeah, last time was before he headed off for the fall term at the academy. When is that over?”

I take a sip of my Nymph. “It was over a while ago, but big brother couldn’t stick around long. He had a lot of training to do before he headed back on up there."

Caramel looks a little bummed. Can’t really blame him; he’s really close to my big brother. Reeeal close. They had every gym class together all throughout junior high and high school. That’s a big deal at that large, fancy, out of town public school they went to. Me, I prefer Miss Cheerilee’s schoolhouse. Recesses were good to my wings and my mareish good looks.

If years of Caramel coming by after class and crashing on the couch have taught me anything, he always bounces back to happy.

"Putting training above all else? That's my boy Lane, alright," he says with what sounds like pride.

Then there’s just this awkward silence between us for a minute. My Nymph sits there in front of me, almost empty but not quite, and Caramel doesn't do anything besides sit there with his arm around me. I have to say, it's enjoyable despite how horribly awkward things are getting. It’s worth it just to hang with a good friend.

After what feels like an eternity, Caramel looks over at my drink, asking with his eyes if I'm gonna finish it. I give it to him for the hell of it. "Thanks, kid!" he exclaims, picking up my glass. Er, what was my glass a minute ago. He slugs the rest of it down in one heavy swig. Yep, that’s what drinking contests get ya; Caramel wins every time, Thunderlane gets a headache, and I pass out on the spot. Never should have let my bro talk me into that…

He squeezes my shoulder tight, then looks over to me. He actually seems impressed as he feels my semi-hard muscle beneath my black t-shirt. “You’ve been working out?”

I flex my biceps, at least the little I have, but I’m never one to turn down a compliment. “Yeah, I head to the gym with Scootaloo after class. It’s more fun than homework.” Sorry, creative writing. Pretentious overly long paragraphs about life and existence can wait.

“This Scootaloo…” Caramel raises a brow, a naughty grin on his muzzle.

Oh, I know where he’s going with this. Being a total flirt means he’s always asking if I have a coltfriend or marefriend every time we talk. Yes, I swing both ways. Moving on.

I shrug at his assumption. “She’s cool and all, but her enthusiasm reminds me too much of big brother. I prefer somepony more laid back...” I pause, then decide to bring up the big reason why my invitation for her to join me in the gym shower didn’t pan out. “And not a lesbian.”

He looks a smidge surprised at that, but he levels out in a moment, smiling right at me. "Well, it's a shame this girl doesn't have eyes for a cute guy like you."

I can feel myself tense up a bit. Geez, burly dude like him calling me cute... Then again, who hasn't he addressed as cute, gorgeous, sweet, or some other affectionate flirty word? Or, maybe he really thinks I’m cute... I’d prefer to be called sexy, but still. That'd be nice.

"I see you enjoyed my little compliment?" I hear Caramel say just outside my thoughts. I jump in my seat, shaken from my entrancement, and look over at him.

"Que?"

"You're blushing pretty hard there, Rumble,” he says with a grin.

Wait. I’m blushing?!

I turn away quickly as Caramel’s chuckles make themselves apparent. He comforts me by running his beefy fingers through my slickened mane. “Come on, what pony wouldn’t want a dude with a manejob like this?”

“Style it every morning…” I mutter.

“I know, I’ve seen you spend a good half-hour on it.” He raises a finger and says matter-of-factly, “A good amount of delicacy is insanely attractive in a dude. You have me beat in that regard.” He flicks his neck long brown mop, obviously disgruntled at the offset part. “So, yeah.”

I’m not gonna pretend his mane looks great, but its messiness is pretty hot in its own right. Put a little conditioner in there, and we’ve got a good candidate for Playmare. Especially with those muscles…

I see those deltoids flex as he claps his hands together. “Oh, click! Just remembered what I wanted to talk about! I’ve got another album coming out.”

I tilt my head. “Oh, you’re still doing that?” I remember the big deal he made about recording a bunch of acoustics and making a disc out of it. I have to be honest, he’s not bad. He certainly has a sexy voice when the moment calls for it. His bridges, however, need work.

“Yep.”

“Cool. Can’t wait to hear your work on this.” I lift up my phones a little bit. “Just got this new set as an early Hearth’s Warming gift from big brother. HD audio, surround sound, and it can hold up to five-thousand songs that I’ll never have.”

“What do you have on it, then?” Caramel asks, pointing lazily.

“Lots of DJ Pon3 and Sweetie Belle.” Speak of Tartarus. Just as I say that, their crossover song Plaid Romance starts playing. I turn it down so I don’t get distracted by the good DJ chanting “Rah-Rah” in her boner inducing voice. “But I do have a lot of your work, too,” I reassure Caramel. “I Can’t Decide is platinum material, dude.”

He flushes, running a hand through his mane. "Uh, thanks. Wish that there were more girls that thought so," he mumbles. “Some people think it’s ‘too creepy’ or ‘pretentious.’”

I mentioned Caramel is modest, but there is such a thing as too modest. The way I see it, when somepony has a talent, they should be proud of it. I'm damn proud of my eagle eye cutie mark. Caramel should be happy his mark shows he’s a competent farmhand. He has a nice set of pipes to back that up.

I take it upon myself to cheer him up. "You know Sparkler?”

“Yeah, Derpy’s adopted kid? She’s a cutie.”

“And a fan," I say with saucy enthusiasm. "According to Dinky, you’re all that she’s been listening to these past few months.”

Caramel gives a nervous laugh, his eyes disbelieving. "No way. Seriously?" The waitress comes by and drops off another glass of Nymph, which he immediately gets to drinking.

"Yeah,” I reply. “And she touches herself to your album cover."

His eyes shoot open and he spits the drink clear across to the opposite end of the booth.

“That’s gotta be a bar record.”

Caramel slumps down in his seat once more. Despite looking all too suddenly sobered, he still smiles and rumples my mane. "Now I know you're pulling my leg.”

“Heh, yeah, maybe,” I mumble. I don’t truly know about Sparkler’s affection towards Caramel, but that’d be normal for her; that whole family is weird. Dinky is perpetually happy, Derpy is, well, Derpy, and they’re constantly hanging around that spiky-maned earthwalker who always wears a tie. Can’t quite get a reading on that one. Whatever the case, I wouldn’t put it above Sparky to wanna tap Caramel.

She’s not the only one…

“Hey, Carm…”

“What’s up?” he asks, putting his arm around me again. The way he holds me, it doesn’t feel like he’s being his usual boisterous self. The way the curve of his torso settles against my side, and how his fingers gently hold my shoulder like it’s ripe fruit, it all feels a bit more real and… Ah, hell, intimate, like he’s not forcing himself to be enthusiastic about a kid who is just his best friend’s little brother.

His best friend’s little brother who might see him as more than just a cool guy.

“New year’s comin’ in hot,” I say, talking slowly and trying to find the right words. “I resolved to make some closure between myself a few demons. So, it’d be best to get a few things out in the open.”

And he’s completely open. I look at him, and he’s not acting condescending. He’s taking me seriously. “Oh, like what?” he asks.

I dunno, perhaps I wanna talk about how I saw him and big brother doing reps in the backyard, and he was shirtless, showing me every bead of sweat traveling in a wavy trail down his neck. Or the time when I was killing time at the park, and I saw him doing a perfect backstroke through the lake, with his swimsuit clinging around his quads…

Or, better yet, how I stupidly walked into the bathroom, and my phones were so loud I couldn’t hear the shower running. Then, there he was, soaking wet from head to hoof, just getting out. A full athletic build of a slender waist, strong legs and muscular arms. He was completely revealed to me, making my jaw almost hit the freakin’ floor.

And he had just stood there and smiled.

"So, you were saying?" he asks, snapping me back to the present.

“Oh.” Caramel is not in front of me, and he’s fully clothed. That’s a relief, and yet… “You, uh…” How do I go about this? I guess, when going for a swim, you test the water inch by inch, get a feel for the temperature… “You remember when I caught you buck naked in the shower?” Or just cannonball in. Yep.

Caramel’s eyes dart around a few times as his smile curls into a grin. I can see a little more red in that yellow face. Then he bursts out laughing.

Oh dear. I broke him.

He stifles himself long enough to catch his breath, then he finally speaks. “How could I not remember that? It was freakin’ hilarious! Your eyes were as wide as the moon!”

I’m not feelin’ so good. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s exaggerating, and it’s nice to know he isn’t being overly awkward about that event, passing it off as just one of those things. But it’s not one of those things.

“Seriously, though. Why bring it up?”

“I, er, hmmm…” Well, what am I supposed to tell him? “Well, I..." I feel my face flush. I want to say it, I really do, but... can I?

Carmel blinks a few times before he shows a look of cautious clarity. “Hey, uh… You don’t… Have you been crushin’ on me?”

That’s about the jist of it. But it sounds better coming out of his mouth. All I can really do is purse my lips, nod, and hope for the life of me Caramel doesn’t storm off and never talk to me again. I don’t want to be remembered as a massive coltcuddler pervert.

He just gives a little chuckle. "Well, if ya wanna join us big ponies outside the closet, just say so, okay?"

I feel mad all of a sudden. I was trying to be serious, and he’s just being all snarky! "Hey, just 'cause I think you're the hottest dude in Ponyville doesn't mean you can just... just... oh." I feel my face go red again from embarrassment. Twofold when Caramel touches my cheek.

“Dude, it’s cool.”

A whole orb of relief just exploded inside of me. I think my coat has gone a few tints lighter. I let out an eased sigh, and cupping my hands over my heated face, I give in to Caramel’s pushing hand. He pulls me into a hug. This isn’t the hug you give a friend. The way his muzzle brushes against my neck tells me it’s a little bit closer than that. “I mean, who isn’t crushing on you, right?” I ask.

He chuckles. It’s obvious he sees the remaining slivers of embarrassment on me. “It’s cool, it’s just… Yeah, it’s cool.”

“Cool,” I say, still shaking internally. Not externally; Caramel’s hug is far too strong for that. “Don’t know what brought that on, really…” I say that as I catch a whiff of his scent. Oooh, strawberry scented body spray.

Caramel releases me from his embrace, all too soon, and lets me sit back down.“Hey, it’s a sentimental time of year. That’s a memory neither of us will forget.”

“Don’t read too much into it, Carm, but I’d hate to forget it anytime soon.” Ah, crud. It’s the return of the blush. As amazing as it is that he’s not mad, or anything negative for that matter, I’d rather move the conversation elsewhere. “So, uh, tell me more about that new album.”

The non-sequitur throws him for a loop, but he decides to indulge me. Besides, it seems like he’s genuinely excited to talk about his latest work. “Oh yeah! What if I told you I have an official sponsor?”

“No shit? And here I thought only hipsters and close friends would be graced by your angelic voice.”

“Eh, rock is far too common nowadays. Even hipsters wouldn’t approach my work.” Caramel chuckles for what seems like the fiftieth time tonight. Frankly, I’ll never get bored of seeing him so energetic and happy. “But I don’t need hipsters to appreciate what I have cooking. See, this sponsor is also gonna help me strike it rich.”

It’s beyond me why he didn’t bring this up earlier, but then again, he probably cared more about my business than his own, even though this is pretty effin’ big. “The two of you are gonna collab?”

“Bingo!” Caramel punches into his palm, then drums on the table like a little kid who just had his first sip of coffee. So this is big. “And I think you know her quite well.”

Stop the presses. Now he’s the one blushing as he mentions this new mare. I slowly nod my head and smile devilishly. “Aaaah, I see how it is. You spin her records, and she takes a ride on the disco stick.”

Caramel shoots me a stare and points, wearing a guarded expression. “That is entirely true.” He shrugs. “What? Jealous?”

I do the same. “Shit, a little,” I say as I innocently sip more Nymph.

Caramel strokes his chin, looking off to the other end of the bar and glancing at the entrance. Some other thought is creeping up on him. "Hm, come to think of it, she should be here tonight. She's the whole reason I even came to this party in the first place." He smiles at me. "Stayed for a different reason, though. Either way, wonder where she is..."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a mare wearing a pitch black hoodie and way-too-large shades approaching. She's not drinking anything, nor is she fraternizing with anyone drinking anything, so what she's doing here is beyond me. The answer to that yet unasked question comes to me when she rests one hand on the booth chair and leans over to speak into Caramel's unsuspecting ear. "Yo."

The poor dude leaps back and ends up nearly crushing me against the window. Ouch. “Woah, there you are,” he says, holding one hand over his heart and using the other to pull me back into a comfortable position. I nearly suffered a fatality by muscle. Eh, there are worse ways to go.

“I assume you’re his collab partner,” I say to the mystery mare.

That results in her pulling back her hood ever so slightly to reveal a horn. It comes aglow with a white aura, which proceeds to smack Caramel upside the head. “Agh, what the hell?” he exclaims.

“Busted! I knew I wouldn’t be able to trust you with our secret project.” The mare clicks her tongue. “Poor baby Caramel and his loose tongue. I’ll have to punish you for that.”

“Please go into explicit detail on how you plan on doing that,” I say, leaning forward at her.

“Ah, a deviant!” She looks at me, revealing she has a white coat beneath all of that ninja garb. It’s probably just my eyes messing around or some trick of the light, but it looks like her shades are glowing. “Stick around, kid. I might show you,” she says.

Caramel groans. “Agh, crap. Not again.”

Yikes, did she just verbally castrate him? Talk about moving an immovable object. Ten seconds around this mare and I’m already sure she’s a mare worth knowing. Her very presence oozes a sense of vibrant freedom and energy, like I can do anything at this very moment and nothing can stop me.

“I only just met you, and I like you.” I take a moment to get a clue; she’s talking to me. She waves her gloved hand in my dumb face. “Yo. Kid.”

“I’m listening.”

As poor pussy-whipped Caramel traces his finger around what was once my beverage, the mystery ninja mare of awesome steps onto the table. Yeah, we have a nonconformist here. She sits down, crosses her legs, and continues to stare at me with those rather infectious eyes. I guess it’s not a trick of the light; she really has glowing shades. It only makes her all the more intimidating as she continues to stare into my soul. I suppose she’s sizing me up, but for what reason?

The waitress just so happens to be passing by. “Uh, hey, that’s not allowed here.”

“Is it a rule or an advisory?” the mare asks, giving a demonic grin. “Either way, I think you should understand that I take exception to it.”

The waitress smiles, shrugging as she takes empty glasses from an abandoned table. “Eh, doesn’t really matter. Just be decent about it. Like, don’t go and be a table dancer and we’re cool.” She walks off to the next set of booths.

“Cool.” The mystery mare goes back to looking at me.

So, I’d be lying if I said I’m not already well attracted to her. Even though I don’t know her name or what she looks like under that hood, she has charisma. She’s a rebel, she wears dark clothing, and she’s good friends with Caramel, so I know she’s not evil.

The sexiest thing about her, at the risk of sounding shallow, is that my parents would absolutely despise her simply because of most of those reasons. Being a teenager, that’s something that’s an instant pants tightener.

I shouldn’t throw my eggs into a basket, though. I know I won’t have a chance with her, especially since she’s obviously beyond my age. It’s the same reason why I can’t see myself with Caramel; it’s just a given that they’re more emotionally and physically mature than me and there’s nothing I can do about that. I’m used to that feeling.

While I’m doing all of this thinking and ogling, the mystery mare talks to Caramel. I only start listening when they’re partway through a conversation about music.

“...were you, I’d avoid overdoing it with the dubstep,” she says to him. “A few digital effects here and there are nothing to be ashamed, of but it’s supposed to be an accent. Dubstep on its own is a migraine waiting to happen.”

Caramel wags his finger approvingly. “I totally agree. Who was it that gave you the same advice with autotune?”

“Sweetie Belle.”

“Ah, right.”

I do believe I’ve found an opportunity to jump in. “You know Sweetie Belle?” I ask the mystery mare.

“Both in terms of her music and on a personal level, yes. You could say we’re unofficial partners.” She looks at Caramel’s now empty glass of Nymph. “Okay, I’m going to assume Caramel stole that drink from you—”

“It was consensual,” I protest.

“—and since that drink is non-alcoholic, that likely means you’re not legal yet. And that means you’re either midway through high school or you’re just about out of there. That means, provided you’ve lived in this small town for the past few years, you’ve known Sweetie Belle personally in some degree.”

“She’s a people pony,” says Caramel.

I’m honestly stunned, unable to bring about any words for a few seconds. I lean forward on the table and try to play it cool. “Well, you’re pretty much all for all. What’s this leading to?”

“Just trying to nail down your musical taste. Now, since you know her, you either like Sweetie Belle’s orgasmic voice and listen to her regularly or at least occasionally; don’t like her for some odd reason, and if so, what the hell is wrong with you; or the moment she became a mainstream sensation you suddenly decided to claim you hate her from under the security of a fedora and scarf.”

I place a hand over my heart, holding the other aloft, and provide an answer to this analytical onslaught. “Ma’am, I solemnly swear that I happen to love Sweetie Belle. If I were to drop dead in this very booth, I would die loving her music and everything she stands for.”

“Then you’re a good colt, and a friend of mine. Welcome aboard.” The mystery mare scoots forward until she’s sitting on the edge of the booth, her legs dangling over the edge. Sans a few inches, she’s practically straddling me, and I’m staring her right in the stomach. If this is how this mare sees friendship, I could get used to her.

Come on, Rumble. Wipe that blush off your dumbass face and stay calm. Just be yourself. The odds are slim, but with the right combination of words you could win this mare’s heart. This could be your luckiest Hearth’s Warming Eve ever. “So, what was the questionnaire about, anyway?” I ask.

“I’m a music enthusiast, so I was simply nailing down your interests based on your background. Sweetie Belle is a good blend of pop and rock. Do you like rap?”

I nod. “Some of it. Mostly the underground artists who don’t boast about how much money they have.”

“I approve.” The mare’s eyes light up once again as she adjusts her glasses, leaning way over to look me dead in the eye. It’s amazingly creepy not being able to do the same to her. “How about electronic?”

“Definitely. My favorite artist of all time does electronic.”

I swear I hear her purr, and just the sound of it makes me blush. “Oh?” she whispers. “And who is that, child?”

Ah, now there’s a question I can go on answering for hours on end, but I’ll do my damndest to keep it to a few minutes. I’ve told Caramel this story many times, and I can see by his smile and the roll of his eyes that he’s fully prepared for this speech.

I lean back in my seat and begin. “Carm made me this mixtape for my thirteenth birthday. At first, it seemed a little lazy but when I listened to it later, it was actually really good. It had pretty much everypony I liked at the time; a little Lincolt Park, Daft Pronk, Three Hays Grace… But then there was this group of songs at the end. The moment they came on, my dark room suddenly became filled with color and life. My furniture bounced with every last hard pound of the bass, which slowly resonated with my heart. Soon, it was beating to the pace of the song, shifting with the tempo, completely surrendering to this amazing sensation that was thrust upon me. I looked on the disc for the name of this infectious artist who held the key to my very being, and her name was—”

“DJ Pon3,” says the mystery mare.

I was pouring my soul out to her. Now that I’ve been brought to a screeching halt, I realize that the whole bar seems a little more silent in the wake of my speech. “Y-yeah…”

She waves her hand. “Go on. I’m enticed.”

“Well… After that day, I immediately emptied out my wallet, went to the record store and bought the DJ’s first album. It was a month’s worth of allowance, but it was so worth it. I locked myself in my room all weekend. Every hour, every freakin’ second, I was listening to that little disc on repeat. The only thing that kept me away from the DJ were the few horrid minutes that I had go downstairs to switch batteries for my player.”

“Ha! Sounds like you’re addicted.” The mare rests her head in her palms. “So, how much do you like this wonderfully narcotic DJ?”

The nerve! “Like her? Look, I know every stupid teenage girl says this about whatever shallow boy band—”

“No matter how fleeting!” Caramel adds.

“—happens to be passing through their heads, but I’m telling the honest truth here; the DJ has a special connection with me.” I lean in closer, raising my hands for emphasis with every word. “I am unforgivably and unfathomably in love with her.”

“Oh yeah?” The mare looks even more enticed.

“Yeah, dude… Hate to sound overly dramatic here, but she saved my life. When I was new to Ponyville and I had no friends, she kept me going. Not just with her heart pounding beats or infectious lyrics, but also through her messages. I hear it all the time. She tells me through her songs; do what you want, when you want, how you want…”

“Amazing how many kids don’t get my message.”

“That’s the message that kept me—” If my speech were a playing record, there’d be a needle scratch right about now. I look up at the mare, taking notice of her reaching for her hood. “No…” I utter in disbelief. “No.”

The mare removes her hood, revealing a mop of spiky blue hair. She then removes her glasses. Her magenta eyes flash red.

“Nooo…”

Unless I am mistaken, I am sitting beneath the multichromatic eyes of the mare I love. I avoid blinking in the slightest to make sure I’m even sitting in this booth right now and I’m not enduring the side effects of possibly accidentally drinking my brother’s energy supplements. Again.

“No. No.”

“BWAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh my Goddesses, that is priceless!” Caramel is bursting at the cheeks, trying to contain as much laughter as he can without his head exploding. “I was wondering when you were going to ditch that disguise, ahahaha!”

The possible DJ hallucination smiles at Caramel. “Oh, honey. I had to reveal myself before steam blew out both your ears.”

There’s no way she can be real. But, then again, I can see and hear her, so she can’t be a mirage. And then there’s Caramel’s reaction. I mean, he knows her, so... I’d say something else, but it’s hard to think of anything with my mind being officially blown. “Noooo—”

The DJ, who I know is definitely for real, interrupts me by falling onto my seat, leaning over me as she straddles my pelvis. Her hands rest on the top of the booth wall, supporting her as she moves her face towards mine. The very tips of our muzzles touch. “Are you going to keep denying the existence of the almighty Vinyl Scratch?”

“...No?”

She chuckles like a villain. “Don’t worry yourself, kid. You don’t need to say another word. You have passion, I like that. And don’t listen to the doubts in your head, because you do understand me. Consider me already smitten.”

“Smitten?”

The DJ… Vinyl Scratch, sighs. “Honestly. You know who I am inside and out. Do I need to spell it out for you?” She points to herself. “I am become seduced.”

I blink twice. “Oh.”

Caramel smirks, a naughty look in his eye. “Oh!~”

I blink a third time. “Ooooh.”

Caramel folds his arms, breathing out fog as he looks at Vinyl’s doorstep; more specifically, her door. “A record insignia. I’m surprised he didn’t catch on sooner.”

“I thought it was a gang symbol,” I say.

Caramel scoffs. “Gangs in Ponyville?” he comments sarcastically. “And while we’re at it, Little Whinny isn’t a douchebag.”

Vinyl and I are standing right in front of the door. “If only I knew you lived in Ponyville…” I laugh nervously. “I would have poured my heart out sooner.”

She shakes her head and pulls me into a one-armed embrace. “No, you really wouldn’t have. I’m lucky I was in disguise. It was the only way I could have ever heard such an award winning performance. Seriously, you should do a one pony show.”

“Still, gotta agree with Carm. I can’t believe I never thought to look here.” I trace my hand along the edge of the record insignia. “It only makes sense…” For some odd reason, probably brought on by an overburdened mind, or probably just plain stupidity, I reach for the door handle. But of course, it’s locked. “Oh, right.”

“Silly.” Vinyl, for some reason, finds that more endearing than stupid, combing through my slicked mane to express that. I expect her to reach into her pocket to find some sort of fancy music note shaped key, but she does the unexpected, as I’ve come to expect from her. Huh. Ironic. She circles the inside of the record and taps the center. That’s when I hear a click. “Finger reading! Pretty badass, right? It’s perfect for avoiding the more ambitious paparazzi.” She looks at me with half lidded eyes, slipping that same finger across her tongue. “Trust me, you meet some weird ones.”

Caramel snorts. “Don’t you normally encourage ambition?”

“Dickheadery isn’t something to be ambitious about,” I say. “Right, Vinyl?”

“Oh, honey. You know just what to say.” She’s turning the handle of the door. I guess she’s just as anxious to get out of the cold as me and Carm. “I’m not going to pretend the razzis aren’t annoying, but it’s their career choice. What they choose doesn’t matter to me. And so what if they bother me? I don’t need to give them anything. However…” She gets that look in her eyes again. “There are many things I like to give my friends.”

“We’re friends?” I blurt out like an idiot.

Vinyl is surprised, like the answer to that question is obvious. “Well, yeah,” she says. After opening the door, she grabs my hands and gives them a small squeeze. “I like you a lot, Rumble. I’ll show you how much I like you once we’re all warm and snuggly.”

Snuggly seems like an odd word for her. Or this whole deal in general. Frankly, I’m still waiting for big brother to wake me up, since I’m only seventy-three percent certain this is even happening right now.

Vinyl throws the door open and ducks inside. I’m tempted to follow right away, but a meaty hand holds me back. Oh, great. This is the part where I wake up.

“You’re killing it, dude!” Caramel declares. “I’m so proud of you right now, you don’t even know.”

“You’re coming in too, right?” I ask.

He tilts his brow, giving me a twisted expression. “What, you want me to?”

Why wouldn’t I? It’d be rude to turn him away at the door of a good friend of his. Plus, she is his partner in music, so there’s that. “Well, yeah. I’d eventually just bore her.”

Caramel pats me on the shoulder, and before he pulls away, he gives me a reassuring squeeze. At least, I think that’s what the intent is. His expression seems a bit more compassionate than smug, like it was when he comforted me about my crush on him.

“Yo!” Vinyl’s shouting throws me for a loop. “Do you like having ice between your fingers? Get inside!”

When an A-list music artist tells you to do something, it’s probably a good idea to abide.

Vinyl’s house is only one story, which makes sense if she’s living alone, but I can’t help but feel that this place is smaller than it should be. Walking into the living room, I see a huge-ass TV that covers a good fraction of the wall, along with one of those glowing neon sound systems just across from me. I can feel a few quiet beats coming off of it, but I can’t hear any music.

Vinyl strides in past the half-wall that separates the living room from the kitchen. She’s already gotten rid of her jacket and hoodie; now’s she’s down to a slim tank that doesn’t leave any of her belly to the imagination. Like I expected, she’s trim. If her breasts were any larger, it would mess with a perfectly proportional body. I wouldn’t like her any other way.

“Rumble~!” Huh, she just handed me a mug of some warm beverage. “On the way here Caramel mentioned you love yourself a peppermint mocha, so I whipped this up just for you.”

I look at what has been put in my hands and… My goddesses… This is it. It takes an incomprehensible magnitude of mind and imagination to comprehend its very existence. The decadence, the balance, the impeccable elegance of synonyms! A candy cane stuck firmly into a mountain of whipped cream decorated with chocolate shavings from top to bottom all towering over a smooth creamy mixture of cocoa-infused milk stirred together with coffee to blur the line between thick and thin for the end goal of soothing the throat with a warm and spicy yet refreshing sensation accompanied by a sizzling simmer at the tips of the fingers that brings about wistful memories of holidays come and gone! All of these qualities are only the minimal requirements towards the creation of the ultimate triumphant paragon of peppermint mochas!

I take a savory sip of this gift to me. “Not bad. Thanks, Vinyl.”

“Damn, that does look good…” Caramel says, licking his lips. I grip the mug a little bit tighter as he looks over my shoulder. “Hey, Vinyl?”

“Get your own,” she snips, skipping away to the couch. It faces the sound system but not the giant-ass TV for some reason, but I’m not about to question the interior decorating decisions of the music meister in the room. Vinyl leaps onto the couch, landing on her back, and flakes out. “Hm,” is all she can say as she looks at the snow painting her windows. “Welp, I wouldn’t recommend either of you going anywhere until the snow lets up.”

“Well, what do we do until then?” Caramel asks. “Besides the obvious.”

“I’ve got a Prancestation 4,” Vinyl says with a shrug.

That’s an alluring idea. “No shit?” But as much as I love the thought of wasting time on games while the snow continues to beat us down, I’d rather do something a bit more emotionally stimulating with Vinyl. That’s when the neon of the sound system catches my mind. “Well, what about that?”

“What about that?” she asks.

As I drain the rest of my mug and put it aside, I rip my music player out of my phones. I throw my coat onto the coat rack, remove my socks and shoes and strut my stuff up to the sound system. Beneath the rising and falling bars, I see a slot for my music player. “Might as well enjoy our Hearth’s Warming Eve in style.” I plug the cord in.

“Rumble’s one hell of a good dancer,” says Caramel. He’s out of his coat too, taking a seat next to Vinyl. He has his own cup of joe in hand now. “It’s a hobby of his.”

My hair stands on end. “T-The hell it is!” As much as I wish to be honest with Vinyl about all of me and my dorkiness, nerdiness, the whole package, my dancing niche is something I’d rather keep in the confines of my own bedroom. Which begs the question… How the hell does Caramel know about that?

“You really need to make sure your door’s locked, kiddo,” he says with a snide look at me. I can’t help but feel a bout of jealousy when I notice he has his arm behind Vinyl. “Your bro and I both know you spend hours at a time memorizing the dance routines you see in music videos.”

Vinyl smiles, nodding with approval. “That’s dedication.” She hops to her hooves and comes over to me, examining my player as I cycle through my playlist. She grabs my hand. “Ooh, do that one!”

“Euphoria? Uh, sure.”

This is a routine that’s like second nature to me. Better yet, Vinyl Scratch was in the music video for this one. I hit the play button, then, in synchronization the slow synths, a sudden burst of confidence surges through my body. It’s actually kinda scary what music can do to me. I grab the DJ’s hand and pull her to the center of her record shaped carpet.

The synths slowly get louder. I start off with a kick and a flourish of my hand over my heart, then pull a one-eighty and do it again. Vinyl is doing the exact same thing as me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we’re in perfect sync.

I turn to Caramel, who is tapping his hoof to the beat. I spread my legs and slide to the left, followed by a short waltz before I slide back. Again, Vinyl is following along like she’s my shadow. Even if she knows the routine as well as I do, I’m shocked she can match me so well. Maybe she’s working some sort of spell to replicate my movements.

The next move is a flex of our arms as we step forward, then a motion over our chests to look like our hearts are pounding. I can relate to that one. Then we lean down and each raise a hand up high. I decide to mix things up a little by turning to Vinyl. Somehow reading my freakin’ mind, she turns to me as we cross our arms and step side to side. We clap our hands and jump, turning back to Caramel. He pumps his fist and gives us a “Whoo!”

This part is gonna be the hardest. Vinyl and I both cross one leg behind the other, stepping to the side while sweeping the floor with one hand. Then we do the same with the opposite legs and hands. Yep, we pull it off perfectly, finishing off by turning to each other and thrusting our arms to the sky. Or at least to each other, joining hands.

I think I have found euphoria. Vinyl takes my hand with both of hers, drags me forward and kisses me.

And it is… mind-blowing. The way her lips graze mine is like a song in itself. Forget the song playing right now, this is what I wanna listen to. I tug away from her grip so I can embrace her and run my hands along the exposed part of her back. I feel beneath her tank top and oh my Celestia she’s not wearing a bra. I’m about to retract my arms but the way she giggles into my mouth keeps me from doing that.

What does make me retract my arms is when she reaches down, grabbing my hip (I’ve always been told I have a mare’s hips, which I am totally okay with) and giving it a sensual rub that makes my leg twitch. Then she moves her hand to my crotch and does the same intimate, pressing, stimulating brush.

“Off with that.” Her horn glows with a blue aura. I feel my shirt getting lifted from my torso. I raise my arms and let it come flying off, landing on the couch next to Caramel. In the heat of the moment, I hadn’t taken the time to notice he’s gotten rid of his polo and undershirt. Back when I saw him stepping out of the shower, I swear I could have shredded sandpaper on his muscles. I never thought he’d manage to go beyond that. He has pecs to rival Big Mac’s, and his waist has gotten slimmer. He’s like somepony out of a super sentai anime.

I don’t have much time to gawk over him with Vinyl forcing me back into the kiss. She keeps touching my chest, as if it’s anything impressive compared to the sight behind her. Still, she has this overpowering sense of dominance to her, like she’s completely in control of me. It must be her eyes; I can’t possibly ignore her when they flash red. “And now for these…”

Once again, her levitation takes ahold of my clothes. My button and zipper come undone and my pants slide down my legs in one clean sweep, but they snag on my hooves. When I attempt to step out of them, I end up stumbling and falling onto my ass. But Vinyl makes due with that, kneeling down to my level. She joins her hands around my back, tracing rapid-fire kisses up my neck.

Her eyes turn red again as she looks down at my crotch, uttering a quiet cackle. While she keeps her lips firmly planted on my mouth, her fingers slip beneath my boxers…

The world stands still for a moment just as I feel her grab it. Maybe it was the mocha, or the fact that it’s very late, or I’m still in a stupor from meeting the mare I idolize, but only now do I realize what’s actually happening: I’m in my undies, Caramel is much of the same, and Vinyl Scratch, AKA DJ Pon3, the mare of my dreams, is touching my dick.

I break the kiss, sliding out of my undies as I back away from Vinyl, stand up and make a mad break for the bathroom.

Take a few deep breaths. Splash some water on my face. Repeat. Repeat again. Goddesses dammit! Why can’t I calm down?!

Okay, okay… Let’s back up a little bit.

Rumble. You, without even realizing it, confessed your love to the mare of your dreams, and she, apparently being a very open minded and benevolent individual, accepted that confession with open arms. She took you back to her humble home, danced with you, stripped you down and touched it…

Yeah, I’m lost.

In truth, there was some part of me that was very aware of Vinyl’s intentions. When she says ‘Do what you want’, she really means it, and who can blame her? Sex is fun, and Vinyl loves fun, ergo, obvious. I saw this coming a mile away.

Still, isn’t that exactly the problem? Why me? The other part of me is in denial that she would ever find any desire to sleep with me, especially with Caramel there, but I have a sneaking suspicion that having two dudes in the room only spurred her on further.

I nearly shoot through the roof when I hear a knock on the bathroom door. “Rumble? Buddy? Vinyl is getting worried, y’alright in there?”

Caramel. Leave it to him to come to my rescue. What a saint. I feel a little bit better already, but I have to remedy the issue of I’m stark naked. Luckily, there’s a set of music note patterned towels on the rack behind me. I snatch one and wrap it around my waist. “Yeah, I’m fine…”

He can hear how much my voice is shaking. “Don’t lie, dude.”

“Okay, I’m panicking,” I admit, solemnly taking a seat on the side of the bathtub.

The door opens. Caramel pokes his head in, checking to make sure the scene is safe, then strolls on in. He’s still down to his boxers. Heh, Power Ponies. Never took him for a fan. “Well, you’ve panicked before, and your big bro was always there to calm you down again.” He shrugs, walking over to me and taking a seat himself. “I’ll take a shot at it, I guess. Tell me your thoughts.”

His hand is rubbing my back. That, along with a good view of his naked torso and strong legs, makes me feel better already. The burning sensation of awkwardness that I’d likely feel in my cheeks isn’t there in the slightest. This feels right.

“Nervous?” Caramel asks.

“I’m… afraid I won’t live up to her standards.”

“Ah.” He purses his lips and nods. “I understand completely. The inexperienced kid up against a warrior of the bedroom. Truly a marvel.” His eyes go wide. “Wait, are you a virgin?”

“No!” I’m used to hearing that question. For some reason, people tend to think an introvert like me hasn’t gotten any. “No, I’ve… I’ve had sex before. It was with Silver Spoon.”

“Oh?” His ears perk up.

“Yeah… A few months ago. I was the last guest at her housewarming party. We got to talking, she broke out a bottle of wine, eventually our clothes ended up elsewhere, then...” I smile, remembering how stupid hot Silver Spoon looked when she pulled the pins out of her hair. It was like a wild beast coming out of a classy lady. “We had fun.”

Caramel counts on his fingers. “Rumble’s list includes a model and the most famous DJ in all of Equestria.” He shrugs. “I know teenagers who would kill to be where you’re at.”

“I know, I know…”

So, to say I’ve been in weirder situations is debatable. Once again, it’s time to assess the situation: I’m next to naked, sitting on the edge of a tub, trying to burn off this serious case of nerves. As for Caramel, he’s… digging his fingers into my shoulders. “Woah, dude. A coal miner could work for two days straight without sleep or water and they wouldn’t be this tense. What the hell happened?”

“DJ Pon3 touched my dick? Pay attention, dude.”

“Dude, I’m serious...” He keeps touching me, feeling up the small of my back and rubbing my shoulder blades with his unusually powerful ministrations. It’s when he squeezes my waist that I feel electricity going up my spine.

“Woah! You are really…” I was about to say ‘going somewhere dangerous’, but I’ve lost my train of thought. Even though I have a lot of red in my face going up to my ears, it’s like all of my nerves have just gotten a good night’s sleep, waking up with no fear whatsoever. “...good… at that.”

I actually feel a little broken when Caramel’s fingers come off my body, but he only does that to get into the tub and kneel down right behind me. He starts kneading my shoulders again. “I picked up a few tricks from the massage parlor in Appleloosa. I worked a part time job there last summer.”

“Oooh, so that’s where you whooooah, shit…” His hands tread down my back, digging through my fur and skin. I don’t think he misses a single muscle on the way down. For a dude who works out a lot, he has really soft hands…

“It was a little weird, being the only dude there and all, but the rest of the masseuses were real nice. They taught me a few, uh, hold on,” he rapidly jabs the sides of his palms into my lower back. It’s odd to think that such a rough sensation could be so relaxing. “Anyway, they taught me the ins and outs of massage therapy.”

My entire body is like ecstasy at this point, so I don’t take any issue with Caramel wrapping his arms around my stomach. His torso presses into my back, letting me feel just how chiseled he’s become. “Granted, this’d be a lot easier if we had a bed or something,” he says.

“Mmm… That’s enticing…” I mutter.

“Heh, yeah?” His breath is warm on my neck. “I, uh, guess you can figure out something else those masseuses did for their customers. You know how it is. Life is tough in Appleoosa, and the workers need a little release from time to time...” His hand slips underneath my towel. If this were any other time, I’d likely bolt again, but Caramel has already soothed me into submission. I can’t find any reason to get up.

I let out a heavy breath as Caramel wraps his fingers around my swelling erection. It only takes one good stroke for my towel to come loose and fall off entirely, leaving me exposed to his eyes. As he rests his chin on my shoulder, he chuckles. “Who wouldn’t want some of that? You’re pretty big, bro.”

All I can think to say is, “Thanks…” I can’t muster anything else, on account of the hottest dude in Ponyville is holding my dick. He pumps his hand along my entire length before returning to the base. He starts stroking me slowly.

His experience as a masseuse is very apparent as he fondles me. His grip is firm, but not too tight, and knows to keep his strokes strong rather than fast. He knows exactly how I like it… Huh. I wonder if he’s ever walked in on me. After I put up that poster of topless Vinyl, I started having… needs. Doesn’t really matter at this point.

The handjob is incredible on its own, but what makes the moment all the better are the little things. Due to Vinyl’s bathroom being rather warm and cozy, Caramel’s somewhat shaggy fur feels like a blanket as he presses his torso against my back. His other hand isn’t just hanging limp; he’s holding my hip, kneading my eagle eye cutie mark. I got that mark when I was spotting for Scootaloo’s flight exercises, and I ended up saving her from a dragon right out of freakin’ nowhere. I’ve always been the observer, and I’m damn good at it. Right now, I’m observing Caramel’s hand pumping my cock.

I feel close already. If I knew this was gonna happen, I’d probably be a little less prone to a sudden orgasm, but how could I have ever predicted such a thing? What are the odds that the night I reveal my dude crush on Caramel is the same night he holds me, touches me, jerks me off just to make me feel good…

I gasp as I lose control. My spunk shoots forth and gives Vinyl’s tile flooring a new finish. But that’s just my first burst. I fire another few loads, each one less powerful than the last, until I’m doing little more than dripping.

“There you go… How do you feel now?” Caramel is still stroking me, just to clean my dick of all the stray cum. He wipes his hand off on the towel, then goes back to touching me.

“I feel good…” I say. My voice is husky, like I just went through some sort of evolution over the course of Caramel’s handjob. I certainly look like it too. Looking in the mirror, I notice that my gel must have worn off, since my mane isn’t slicked back anymore. This look definitely has more… attitude.

Perhaps it’s the inevitable post-orgasm exhaustion, but I’m not surprised in the slightest when I look up and see Vinyl standing there in the doorway. She’s completely naked, except for her glasses. Somehow, wearing those even when showing off her smooth, slender body in all of its glory just makes sense.

“Isn’t that just adorable.” She smiles as she raises her glasses above her horn. “You two should kiss.”

Caramel touches my cheek and lightly turns my head his way. His muzzle is right there in front of mine. Eh, what’s a kiss? He already made me cum. I stretch out my neck to meet up with his lips. I don’t stick my tongue in his mouth or anything, we just have a snog. It feels good, for how brief it is.

“Nice,” says Vinyl. “Now…” She sways her hips over to me, getting down on her knees. She cups my dick with one hand and rubs it slowly. It’s a tease, not another handjob. “What do you want to do next, my little Rumble?”

Drink another mocha and relax in the easy chair, that’s what.

That being said, I’m very much enjoying the view, and it’s making my flaccidity ebb away with every passing second. While I enjoy more of Vinyl’s sweet decadence, I watch Caramel enjoy Vinyl’s sweet decadence.

Y’know, by humping like dog while she rides him wild on the couch.

“Aaah... Oh!~ Oh, baby…” Vinyl is anything but subtle with her cries of ecstasy. She uses Caramel’s knees to lift herself along the length of his sizable cock, then she drops down again. I can see she’s just as enthusiastic as she sounds. Every bounce she makes coats Caramel with a new layer of juice. I am so glad Vinyl has her back facing him for this. I can see her rent expression plain and simple.

Caramel, as expected, meets her fall with an upward thrust and drives as much of his length as he can into her snatch. How is it that something so dirty can be so damn beautiful to sit back and watch? This is better than any sort of smut, mostly because I can backseat drive the performance if I do so wish.

“E-enjoying yourself, Rumble?” Vinyl says, slamming down on Caramel. She gyrates her hips, which makes the big guy squirm. It’s adorable. “Love watching your friend fuck me, don’tcha?”

Twenty minutes ago, if she had asked me the same thing, I would have stumbled over my own breath trying to comprehend such a question. As I am now, this seems normal. “I have no complaints.”

I relax as Vinyl leans over, keeping her torso relatively still while thrusting her hips. She’s in charge now. “Aaaah… Mmm… Any way I can make it better for you, baby?” she whispers seductively. It takes me a moment to realize she’s not talking to Caramel.

“You can touch yourself if you want.”

Vinyl leans back, still maintaining control of her hips, and gropes her own breasts. She tweaks her nipples, giving them a lick with her own tongue. Then she brings her hands down on herself. She parts the bit of her sex that isn’t milking Caramel, then rubs her clit with vigorous abandon. “Ooh, fuck…” She purses her lips and lets out a series of moans.

“Good,” I say, pleased with her actions. “Carm, you take her from here.”

“Gotcha, buddy.” Caramel grabs Vinyl’s arms, and she surrenders accordingly. Caramel thrusts up into her, making the couch wobble slightly every time he lands.

Vinyl, despite being in constant motion, keeps her now perpetually red eyes on me. “You’re… Aah, you’re so hard, Rumble…”

I look down at my dick. Yep, we’re back at full mast.

“Aren’t you gonna rub that lovely thing? Oooh. Make yourself cum from watching Caramel f-fuck me?”

It’s tempting. Every time she elicits a cry of pleasure or talks dirty, I have to resist the urge to go to town on myself. But I have good reason for keeping myself unheld for the moment. “As fun as that sounds, Vinyl, I’d rather save my strength for you.”

“Mmm, ever the gentlecolt…” She’s touching herself again, this time grabbing one breast and pleasing her clit simultaneously. I wonder, given her infamy as a bedroom demon (though the fact that we’re in the living room isn’t lost on me), just how long she can last.

Certainly longer than Caramel at any rate. I’ve never seen him so red in the face. He makes a few more hard thrusts before finally stopping and letting loose. Still well inside Vinyl, it takes a while for his waves of spunk to dribble from her snatch down his dick.

“Nice going, buddy,” Vinyl says, reaching behind her and patting Caramel on the cheek. “That’s a lot longer than last time.” She shudders as she stands up on the couch, removing herself from Caramel’s cock.

“Awesomesauce,” he says.

“Rest up for a bit. Now…” Vinyl steps off the couch and walks my way. She’s picking up stray bits of cum from her legs and licking them off her fingers. “Rumble, I think you’ve kept me waiting long enough.”

But I’ve been the one waiting for her. “Uh, I think that should be the other way around?”

Vinyl shrugs and flops her arms forward with an apathetic grunt. “Take your pick. Either way…” She gets on her hands and knees. This is my queue to set my new mocha aside and lean forward.

Vinyl sticks out her tongue and traces it along the underside of my length, flicks the very tip, then slides all the way back down until she’s licking my balls. She then takes me into her mouth, displaying a very impressive amount of skill as she downs all of me in one go. I’m surprised she doesn’t choke, not that I like to brag about my length. Vinyl makes sure I feel every bit of her tongue and lips as she slowly pulls away.

I love a good blowjob as much as the next colt, and I am absolutely red with excitement, but I’ve had enough of touching and foreplay. I grace Vinyl’s cheek, and she immediately stops whatever she was about to do next with her mouth. I nod to her living room rug. “Floor looks comfortable enough.”

“Yeah, it is…” She smiles, obviously interested in what I have in mind. “Come on, let’s fuck.”

“Music to my ears.” I stand up, watching as Vinyl gets down on the ground and splays her beautiful self, presenting her jizz laced pussy for all to see. She reaches to a small remote on the floor and presses a button labeled ‘Shuffle.’ The sound system comes on once again, playing one of my slow rap-slash-love songs, one of the few kinds of rap I can tolerate.

I get down to Vinyl’s level and lie over her. She feels up my legs with her lanky arms as we make out something messy. My pride is mashed up against her fur. “Go ahead, big guy. Do me already,” she urges, squeezing my leg.

“Do it, filly!” Caramel half-yells. I can tell he’s jesting, and it certainly makes this whole situation seem a lot less dire.

I lean back, then push against Vinyl’s slit. “Aaah, there you go…” she says with a gasp as I slip inside her.

She feels amazing, for a lack of any better word. There’s always this stigma against mares who get around, like their pots are overused or worn or something else nasty. That ain’t true at all, at least in this case. Vinyl Scratch’s vagina is experienced. Wow, there’s a sentence you don’t hear often. Either way, I’ve managed to bottom out inside her.

“No need to be gentle, Rumble. No matter how rough you are, I’ve had rougher.” She pats me on my cutie mark and surrenders, relaxing her arms above her head. “Fuck me.”

And that’s what I do. I thrust into her with as much power as I can muster, and I wish I could be a little more elegant about it, but my inconsistent pushes are just a part of my lack of experience. Yet, Vinyl is somehow enjoying it. Her eyes are half-lidded and her nostrils are flaring, though we’re not quite up to moaning capacity yet.

“Goddesses, you are big. How do you even fly with that thing weighing ya down?”

I’m grunting due to my thrusting, so my words come out broken. “I’m not a, rrgh, regular flyer, rragh, I just spot for any- rrgh, anypony who asks…”

I know Vinyl is the one who wants to please me, but I’m not gonna be a selfish lover. She has such a slender, strokable body that I just can’t possibly ignore. I can’t help grabbing at her hips, giving them a tough yet tender squeeze. I gotta grab her firm ass. “That’s it, aaah… Touch me while you fuck me, Rumble… Touch me everywhere…”

I gotta get more mileage out of my thrusts. I lift up one of Vinyl’s legs. She gets the idea and lifts her other, wrapping it around my back and resting it against the one I’m lifting. She curves her back, allowing me to slam into her with much more force, something I plan to take full advantage of. “Let’s jam.”

Vinyl laughs. “Seriously? Kids still say—” I thrust into her, putting my back into it. “Ooh! Aaaoh, my… Rumble… Fuck, that’s good! Fuck...” She ain’t laughing now.

I’ve caught her by surprise, apparently. I make up for my lack of consistency in my thrusts with power, using my whole body rather than just my hips. I gotta say, I think I’m getting drunk on the power. After all, I’m the one making the legendary DJ Pon3 moan.

“What’s your deal?” I ask. I’m trying to establish a rhythm here while I talk. “Do you get off from anypony? No matter who’s fuckin’ you?”

Her head is on her side and her mouth is wide open. She’s gonna have to wash drool out of her carpet tomorrow. “Y-yeah, pretty much… Oooh, my!”

“She calls it panophilia,” I hear Caramel say. “For a nymphomaniac, she’s very easy to please.”

“Dumbass, ah…” Vinyl grabs me by the head, ushering me down. I can’t quite reach her neck, so instead I nestle into her cleavage. “I’m a nymphomaniac because I’m easy to please. Get a clue.”

I lift my head out of the marshmallow and smile up at Vinyl. “Nice tits,” I say. I keep pounding away at her, eventually finding my rhythm; I simply thrust in tandem with the beat of the music, and it works. Vinyl holds on to me all the tighter, not letting a single moan go unheard. She sounds so sexy when she cries out in pleasure.

Time to sweeten the deal. I get a mouthful of one of Vinyl’s breasts (there’s too much happening for me to know which one specifically) and start licking her areola. It goes erect as I trace my tongue around it.

“Wow, you’re… great at that…”

I’m already sucking on the other. Vinyl traces her fingers through my mane, ever so slightly pulling on my hair as I please her. “Rumble, stop teasing me, for fuck’s sake…” She wiggles her hips, sliding her slippery insides all over my cock and making lightning travel up my spine. “I’m already seduced, you idiot…”

“You asked for it.” I throw down the gauntlet and start thrusting without any sense of subtlety or control. Vinyl leans back with her head against the carpet, calling out a bunch of garbled words and swears in unison. I can’t decipher any of it; it’s all just one beautiful, blasphemous mess of moaning.

Vinyl’s fingers dig into the carpet so she can still grind against me. Just when I think she can’t get any more slick, the waterworks just keep coming. With how wet she's getting from this, I have my suspicions she came already, but nope. She's just slicking things up more and more and that's making these thrusts insanely easy.

Even though I know I'm bottoming out already, it feels like I'm reaching new depths inside her. Each high pitched moan or shriek she lets out assures me that whatever I'm doing is the right thing to do. That was the case with Silver Spoon, and that’s the case now. They say that no one is good their first few times. Well, I’m not brilliant, but I think I’m the exception to the rule.

The music is getting drowned out by our lustful calls. I can tell that she didn't expect this when she let me into her, but I'll be damned if I don't make her walk (if she still can) out of this without knowing who I am.

Her body is limp by now, and her eyes are nearly completely rolled back behind her lidded eyes. The sounds coming out of her mouth aren't even words or curses anymore; nothing but moans and shrill screams of ecstasy remain. She’s gonna lose it any second here, and I ain’t gonna let myself cum first.

After a long while of stuttering, I manage to hear Vinyl actually say something intelligible. "Oh f-fuck, I’m gonna cum!" She lets out a piercing scream of quite possibly the most intense orgasm of all time. She nearly tears the carpet out with her grip as she mashes up against me, slathering my dick, along with a good portion of my pelvis and legs, in her nectar.

After a few seconds, she collapses on the floor. Her breathing is heavy, and her tongue is lolled out of her mouth as if she has no control over it. She tries to say something, but it comes out like “Awalgalra…” The whole sight is utterly comical. She releases the carpet and beckons to me with one finger.

“Yeah?” I ask with a smirk.

She speaks softly, probably due to having thrown out her voice. “You were good.” She brushes her hand through my mane once again and kisses me, an act that quickly turns into a passionate makeout. Me and the beloved DJ Pon3, stark naked and slobbering over each other like animals… My parents would hate this.

Our lips part, but our tongues keep swirling around each other. I wonder how much body fluid we’ve swapped so far? I feel a bit incomplete after our tongues part, and even more so when Vinyl scooches back, letting my dick out of her. She sits with her legs parted and her hands over her pussy, which is still leaking all over the floor. I hope her carpet is an easy clean.

“Aw, you’re still hard, buddy?” she asks, wearing a mock pout. “That is impressive, I’ll admit. I’ve already decided you’re not going to bed until I have enough of your hot jizz all over me.”

I watch her rub her hand over her clam, tracing the edges with her fingers and thumb. Given the circumstances, I’m very calm about seeing this in person. In fact, it’s kinda funny. “You say that so casually.”

“Sex is just another social interaction, my pet.” Vinyl stops pleasuring herself and gets on her knees. “It’s more fun when everybody has their turn. Caramel, baby…”

Caramel has been watching intently the whole time. I can tell by the casual wave he gives to me and Vinyl as we look at him. He’s just chillaxing on the couch with a newfound erection. Even with my incident with him in the shower, I never had a chance to look him over proper until now. Who knew that he was hiding such a beautiful, slick, leathery beauty beneath Power Ponies underwear? No wonder Vinyl fancies him.

“What do you need?” he asks.

“You and Rumble stand here.” She points to two spots right in front of her. “I wanna suck both your huge cocks before we move on to the main act.”

Caramel mutters to himself as he gets off the couch and steps over to me and Vinyl. “That wasn’t the main act? He rocked your world inside out and that wasn’t the... Okay, sure.”

I stand up as well. Caramel wraps his arm around my neck and holds my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. I like to assume that means he’s proud of me for what I’ve done tonight. Yeah, I’d say I’m pretty damn proud of myself too. He’s still sweaty from his romp with Vinyl, and his cock is still coated in spunk. Combine that with his epic figure… Yeah, if I wasn’t at full mast already…

His confident look immediately disappears and is replaced with half-lidded eyes and a goofy oh-face. “Geez, Vinyl… Little warning next time…”

The DJ is massaging Caramel’s nuts, licking at where they and the rest of his giant cock meet. Her other hand is rubbing the upper half of him. Even with both hands on all that meat, she has plenty of room for stroking.

“Mmm… So big…” She downs the head and slides her tongue along his length until she touches his ring, and then she pulls away. She keeps pumping her hand along him; I doubt it’ll be enough to make him cum, but I’m sure she’s only doing that so Caramel and I get an equal amount of attention, given that she’s looking at my dick now with a hungry look in her eye.

As she wraps her fingers around me, she wets her hand in a mix of precum and nectar, making me a slick and easy job for her. Honestly, I commend her on fearlessly wrapping her mouth around such a grotesque mix of fluids. Me, being so young and, well, vanilla, I could never muster that sort of courage. But this is the DJ who has been known to ride her fans onstage while at the controls. It’s all in good fun.

“Rumble, mmm…” Her voice is so seductive; I could masturbate to it alone, but here she is, sucking me down, bobbing her head and humming gleefully. I love that psychotic look she has as she pulls off of me and slowly licks my underside. “Your cock is just as big as your heart, y’know?”

“My heart?” I say with a giggle.

She doesn’t stroke me; rather, she rubs her fingers along the upper and lower parts of me. “I’ve never heard somepony confess their love for me in such a way. You made me feel so good…” I tense up and gasp as she downs me once again, letting her tongue linger and drag on me before she pulls away. “I just had to show my appreciation.”

“I’d say you’ve shown more than enough… Not that I would mind going a little further.”

“Good, Rumble, good…” She continues to bob her head while both of her hands tend to jerking me off. Her humming only contributes further to the pleasure building up in my loins, giving a little bit of a vibration to her already amazing blowjob. After a long, intense a very stimulating suck, she comes off of me with a pop. “Now, cum for me.”

Not like I have much of a choice in the matter. She pumps me fast and hard until the pressure reaches its peak and I can’t hold it in anymore. With an involuntary moan, I feel the rush; the warm explosion of pleasure in my crotch that spreads slowly through the rest of my body. A perfect orgasm brought on by the perfect mare.

A fast and large load of my seed shoots out, right onto Vinyl’s mug. It all comes out in one burst, rather than several shots, coating her entire face, along with her glasses, in dollops of white spunk. My spunk.

That’s it, then. I’ve made my mark of the legendary DJ Pon3. I’ve claimed her. Funnily enough, she doesn’t look like some sort of filthy slut. She just looks refreshed and content. “This is what you love, huh?” I ask, before realizing what that sounds like in context. “Th-that wasn’t dirty talk. You just really like doing this?”

“Of course, my darling. It's fun.” Vinyl wipes her face clean of hot jizz and licks it off her hand. She has to do that five times before she’s at least semi-clean, which I can assume means I’m one potent stallion. “Now, let’s tend to…” She trails off as she points at Caramel. “Oh! I am become brilliant!” She stands up quickly and approaches him, cupping his cheeks. “Hey, why don’t you lie down? Rumble and I will take care of all the rest.”

“You’ve outdone yourself this time, Vinyl.” Caramel says that as he takes his spot on the couch once again. He doesn’t entirely know what to expect, and neither am I; Vinyl was fairly vague about what she meant.

But Vinyl’s actions usually speak louder than words. She gets up on the couch, straddling Caramel’s gut, then turns around on him, spreading herself over his whole body while holding his erect and throbbing cock with both hands. Both hands. Goddesses, they’re both so hot…

Before I can think twice about it, I join them on the couch. I lie down on my stomach in front of Vinyl, whose mouth is full of thick black Caramel dick. The big guy, clearly not content with just letting himself be pleased, and probably wanting to do something with the wet musical lips staring him in the face, holds Vinyl by her back and goes to town. I can’t see the details, but I know it’s working well. Vinyl stops sucking him off to let out a series of escalating moans.

“Fuck, Carm…Keep that up…”

She’s too busy moaning or grinding her hips against him to focus on his dick. It’s just standing there, alone and erect with nopony to play with it…

Although, I’m here. Call me a pervert or a coltwhore, but some small part of me has lusted for Caramel ever since I encountered him in the bathroom. I may as well sate that part of me. After all, it would be a shame to leave him hanging…

I lick the very tip of his cock. I will admit, as much as I want to do this, I am fairly nervous. Getting a surprise handjob is one thing, but this is something entirely different… I try doing what Vinyl did before, licking the base and sliding up to the tip, making his already drenched length even slicker.

Hey, I can smell Vinyl on him… Yeah, this’ll work just fine.

I wrap my mouth around him and take a dive, trying to mimic Vinyl’s blowjob from earlier; the way she used her tongue in tandem with her lips felt so good. I keep bobbing my head up and down on Caramel, stopping every few dives to jerk him. My spit, mixed with his cum and Vinyl’s nectar, serves as a good substitute for lube. He’s so moist and slimy… It’s wonderful. I never thought I would get this into giving a good blowjob, and Caramel’s unusually shrill moans tell me I’m doing a good job. I let out a little squee on the inside before I put him in my mouth again.

I look up and see that Vinyl has regained her focus enough to fondle Caramel. It’d be unfair of me to hog him, so I settle for massaging his legs and testicles while Vinyl picks up where I left off, only stopping to blush and hum from the ministrations on her pussy. When she pulls away, I pick up the slack and start sucking, using a lot of my tongue on him for good measure, then release so Vinyl can have her turn. It’s a seamless effort.

We each have a long lick up our sides of Caramel’s cock before we reach the top. Our tongues touch, and we swirl them together before our lips touch in a desperately erotic kiss.

Vinyl starts grinding her hips even faster against Caramel’s face, her mouth hanging open with her tongue out. If she weren’t so incredibly sexy, this would look hilarious. “OooOooh, Caramel~…” she calls out.

I don’t want her to cum alone, so I start sucking even harder on Caramel, stroking what I can’t get in my mouth to the best of my ability. I just keep reminding myself of what Vinyl would do in my place.

I feel Caramel’s cock twitch in my mouth before I feel the blast. I can’t pull away in time before my mouth is filled with his cum. There’s a first time for everything, I suppose. Still, I pull off and let his continuous ropes of seed drain from his cock. Vinyl is shuddering, riding out her orgasm with a gradually decreasing moan and several long grinds.

Finally, she raises her nethers off of Caramel’s face and sits on what little of the couch is available. “Nicely done, Rumble,” she says breathily. “How does it feel having sucked cock for the first time? Exhilarating, ain’t it?”

I try to reply but that’s when I realize I still have some salty cum in my mouth. I give it a swallow without a second thought. “You said it,” I say. I look at Caramel, who relaxes his head on his hands and smiles at me.

“We can, y’know…” he shrugs. “Go a little further, if you want? I mean, if it would make you feel good... I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Okay, I’ve changed my mind. If this a dream, never wake me up.

This is another fantasy I’ve tried to keep under wraps ever since the shower incident. I’d hate to admit to Caramel that more than once I’ve imagined him doing some pretty indecent things to me… I mean, I’ve imagined it with any good looking stallion leaning over me, but as of late they’ve all inevitably morphed into Caramel by the end.

And here he is, offering without any hint of sarcasm whatsoever. I’m squeeing internally again.

I nod enthusiastically and pounce onto Caramel, giving him a peck on the cheek before he pulls me into a proper kiss. His lips are far stronger than Vinyl’s. These are a farmhand’s lips, with thickness and strength to them. I was in charge of Vinyl before, but now I’m gonna be the submissive one. I’m cool with that. I’m open to new experiences.

“How do you wanna do this?” he asks. “You’ve been the one crushing on me, I think it’d be fitting to do this your way.”

“Well, uh…” He and Vinyl can probably see my heart beating. “I’d be lying down.” Bashfully, but with no intention of chickening out, I pull away from Caramel and lean back until I’m facing the ceiling. I continue to watch him as I do so. “Then you’d, uh…” Caramel gets on his knees and reaches for my legs. “Yeah, like that…”

Caramel is gentle, carefully lifting my legs up. I’d normally feel intimidated or at least weirded out by this, but it feels right. I wonder if Caramel has ever had a twink at his mercy before. Either way, he seems to have done this before. My legs bend and my hooves press against Caramel’s pecs. He smiles. “There you go.” He darts his head around, as if he’s forgotten something. “Now, where’s…”

Vinyl, who is resting on the carpet with her legs crossed, presents a small tube of some clear liquid-ish stuff called Grapeseed Power (Happy endings made easier). “Gonna need this, bro.”

It takes me far longer than it should for me to realize that it’s lubricant. “Aw, boy…” I say, half in humor and half from nerves.

Caramel shakes the tube a few times and gets a little bit of the stuff on his hand, then sets the tube down. He slowly rubs his shaft, which is already moist with his own seed and me and Vinyl’s saliva, but with a few passes of lube, it becomes slick and shiny to the point of reflecting the fluorescent lighting.

"Pretty close to your fantasy?" Caramel asks me.

“Yeah. I mean, the couch is new, and I didn’t expect the DJ herself to be watching…” I look over at Vinyl, who innocently waves to me with one hand. The other is massaging the inside of her legs, as if she’s physically preparing herself to, well… Honestly, I can’t really blame her for wanting to do that while Caramel and I… Ah, dude, I can’t believe this is actually happening! “So, should I bite the pillow?” I ask him with a smirk.

Caramel smirks back at me and says, “No way. But it’s gonna be a little uncomfortable at first. Take a deep breath.”

I do as he commands. I also close my eyes, because I’m a little worried that I’ll tense up if I see him coming in. My heart wants this. Hell, it’s wanted Caramel for a long time. But my body may not approve at first. Still, I should be thankful that I decided to take a shower before I left for the bar…

I feel Caramel’s head gentle pushing its way in. I don’t feel pain so much as I feel a lot of pressure. I groan in discomfort, but that groan quickly turns into one of pleasure. Caramel is in there. He’s warm, he’s slick, and he’s inside me. I can’t help letting my goofy grin show while my breaths turn fast and hot. I am comforted a little by Caramel massaging my legs, and I will always trust that little smile of his to assure me that everything’s gonna be okay.

Caramel knows to take this nice and easy. I’m absolutely miniscule prepared to him, so even the little movement it takes for him to ease out of me before pushing back in feels way stronger than it should on my end. Again, that discomfort comes back as his dick slowly makes its way inside, but I can ignore it easily. It feel too damn good. Every breath I make causes my own cock to throb with excitement.

Eventually, the discomfort goes away entirely, and all that’s left is Caramel slapping up against me, with a jolt of ecstasy pulsating through me every time his cock slithers its way deeper inside. I can guess I’ll be walking funny after all is said and done, but, honestly, I’m okay with that. This is my dream come to life.

Caramel holds tighter and tighter to my legs for stability as his thrusts quicken. I even get off a little on the little brushes his fingers make near my hooves. That’s an area I’m fairly sensitive in, and while I’m not a hoof fetishist, I have no qualms whatsoever with Caramel touching me there. Now I understand why Vinyl asked me to touch her… I want Caramel to touch me as much as it takes.

He squeezes my legs abnormally tight as he slaps especially hard against my ass, making me cry out like some depraved mare in heat. I get it now… I’m feeling the lust of every single mare that Caramel has ever fucked. He takes complete control of their bodies, creating amazing waves of pleasure they don’t ever want to stop. I don’t want it to stop. Again, depraved heat mare, but I love having Caramel all to myself. Even if Vinyl Scratch wasn’t here, I’d still be having the best Hearth’s Warming of my life. Although, if it weren’t for Vinyl, I probably wouldn’t be lying here, getting humped by my long time crush… I didn’t think it was possible to love her any more.

I’m mesmerized by the beads of sweat on Caramel’s body. They add the slightest shine to his coat, which only serves to make him look even more like a poster boy, except for his fervent expression. I can tell by his massive blush and the way body shakes every time he rams into me that he’s putting his all into this. It’s a little belated, but I have to say it, “That feels really good, Carm…”

His answer is a wry smirk. "You're feeling pretty good yourself. Glad you were ready to rumble, Rumble."

"It's my effin' dream come-- ah!" Caramel leaves my legs to one arm. His other one reaches down and touches my cock. It's surreal to think that it's the second time he's done that tonight. I have to suck in my breath and shut off my brain for a second to avoid cumming all over myself. When I calm down, Caramel is still rubbing me, massaging the the head every time he reaches it.

"True?" he asks. "I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it myself... You're so cute."

I feel simultaneous embarrassment and pride rising in my chest, my face heating up. “Well, it’s about time you said it!” With enough warmth in my heart to last me the rest of the winter, I lay my head back and elect to enjoy the rest of this wonderful dream come true. “Come on, big guy… I’m ready.”

“This is for you, hon…” he replies.

By now, Caramel has been able to bottom out, but I guess he was waiting until the right moment to act on the privilege. Everything below my torso rises as Caramel takes ahold of my hip and starts thrusting without restraint. I can feel his pelvis against my nethers every time he slams into me. It’s a rough and yet strangely pleasant ride. “Ah-ah-aaah… so good… aaah…”

Caramel’s hand stops jerking me and joins the other in supporting me. I can hear and feel his heavy breaths. I wouldn’t be surprised if we were both blowing steam. He fidgets a little, allowing me to feel his cock pushing against my inner walls. I’m totally stretched for him… I always had a feeling he’d be a perfect fit.

“I’m close,” he mutters, resuming his thrusts. By this point, my back is curved, my mouth is wide open and my tongue is hanging out, flopping around every time Caramel’s massive dick slides up inside of me… Geez, I’m just like Vinyl.

I moan loudly as Caramel's seed starts to fill me up. It’s so warm and wet, and there’s a lot of it. I can feel it filling me up, eventually escaping and draining in dribbles from my ass. And that’s only the first blast. The second hits where it counts, sending me into my own climax. Our cocks pulse almost synchronously. My own jizz splatters along my chest and face in time with each wave of pleasure. I don’t mind, it’s kinda refreshing, like a cool splash of water after a hard day’s work. I don’t feel dirty. Far from it. I feel full.

I mean, barring Caramel’s cock in my ass, which he proceeds to remove. He’s slathered in his own spunk, which dribbles all over Vinyl’s couch. He takes a seat and lets out a long breath of satisfaction, followed by hearty laughter. “Now that’s a part of you I’ve never seen before.”

“What?” I ask, letting my legs drop.

Caramel looks snidely at me. “You moan and squeal like a rentboy. It’s adorable.”

I hear Vinyl laughing on the carpet. “Tell me about it,” she says. I look over to her, and what I see doesn’t come as much of a surprise. She’s flaking out on the rug with her hands between her legs, pushing her digits in and out of her folds. She takes a pause and rubs her lips, followed by a little tweak of her clit. She tilts her head my way, making her hands stop. A few awkward seconds go by before she says, “Oh, you’re both done?”

I nod, and reply with a simple “Yeah.” While my insides feel a little distended, I’m still able to sit up as Vinyl comes my way.

“Good, because I’m not…” She bends over, granting me a generous view of her cleavage before she dips her head down. She presses her muzzle up against my chest, which causes me to raise a brow.

“Uh, okay?” I decide to just go along with it. Freaky deaky and Vinyl Scratch, as I’ve learned tonight, is a package deal. Regardless of that, what she does here is oddly enticing. She sticks out her tongue and licks my pecs, lapping up the ropes of cum. She follows the trails of white like breadcrumbs, tracing circles wherever she finds some more to put in her mouth, eventually leading all the way down to my pelvis. At this point, my cock rivals Caramel’s in terms of how cum soaked it is, and it seems to be Vinyl’s mission to get me completely clean, because she starts to suck on me once again.

As her lips close around the base, she pulls away slowly, then opens her mouth. Her mouth is full of jizz, my jizz, and she still hasn’t swallowed for some odd reason. An unusual but very alluring idea enters my mind. I beckon to Vinyl with my fingers. She leans in, allowing me to grab her shoulders, meet up with her head and kiss her. Our tongues collides, and we begin to share the mouthful of cum together. We swish it back and forth between our mouths before I finally take in the whole load and, without any hesitation, swallow it.

Our kiss breaks with a loud gasp. “Wow…” Vinyl coos. “You’re a regular kinkmeister. Not many dudes I’ve met have had the audacity to take their own medicine.”

I fold my arms and smirk, as if I’ve won some sort of award. “Hey, whatever. That’s not the first time I’ve swallowed my stuff.”

“Really?” Vinyl asks with a visible blush and a flash of red in her eyes. “Color me interested.”

“Hey, I had a lot of free time in high school. A kid gets bored and borrows his gay friend’s toys. I don’t see what the big deal is.” I remember how flushed I was when I met Lickety Split behind the schoolhouse. He had such a naughty expression when he handed over the box…

“You have a lot of color to you, little Rumble,” says Vinyl. I watch as she gets up on the couch and kneels down, her moist lips hovering over my now saliva stricken cock like a cloud of pure heat. “I look forward to seeing how long I can play with you.” She falls, and her pussy immerses me into its warmth for the second time of the night, and I’m quite sure it won’t be the last time.

Once my long moan fades away, I’m able to think clearly about what I’m going to say next. First, as Vinyl begins to buck her hips wildly, rocking on my dick without any relent, I kiss her once again. It’s brief, but that’s all I wanted. “I love you,” I say.

Vinyl stops riding for a moment so I hear her say, “I know you do.” Her expression is as sinister and determined as ever, but I can also see warmth. She and I are in the same mindset. This isn’t just some one night stand, it’s a coming together of kindred spirits with a passionate love for the musical arts. It only makes sense that we’d make such beautiful music together.

Vinyl embraces me, rubbing her hands along my back while her cheek and mine brush up against each other. I reach below her arms and wrap mine around her slender frame, copping a grip on her firm hips, and usher them into resuming their bucking.

As my heroine continues to grant me a continuous rhythm of pleasure with her tight, experienced pussy, I lean my head to see Caramel. He’s sitting with his legs spread, relaxing against the arm of the couch. I reach out to one of his legs and touch it, giving it a little squeeze. “Thanks,” I say.

Caramel replies by picking up the remote to the sound system and hitting the play button. One of my favorite Sweetie Belle songs comes on just as turn back to Vinyl Scratch.

You're dangerous, just get it up.
The way you move, so scandalous.
It's all about the two of us.
A one night stand just ain't enough!
I need some stimulation, baby...
A little conversation, maybe...
You got me spinning 'round like crazy...
There goes my baby!

Author's Note

End song is Scandalous by Mis-Teeq. I own nothing.

A Private Party (Spike and Pinkie Pie)
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Cold Drinks and Warm Hearts

A Private Party (Spike and Pinkie Pie)

As I enter the donut shop, I hear the doorbell ring. It’s only one of many bells that are ringing tonight, what with it being Hearth’s Warming Eve and all. Still, it’s a pleasant sound.

“Hey, Spike,” says the burly chef behind the counter. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight, not that I’m complaining.”

“Evenin’, Dunkin,” I reply. “How about a maple bar and an apple fritter? I’m feeling a little saucy.”

“Keep a tab on that,” he says as he ducks away. “I got a big order to put together, I’ll just be a second.”

Well, I suppose my craving will have to wait for a bit. I take a seat in one of the booths and stretch out, taking off my beanie cap and letting my spines out.

The only other person here is Lyra, who offers me a friendly wave when I look her way. She’s chilling out by the counter. I can guess she’s the one who made the big order. Going by tradition, she and Bon Bon must be having a romantic movie night to celebrate this holiday of family and friendship. Ten years married, and they’re still so enthusiastic about their love life? They’ve got it made.

If it were any other Hearth’s Warming Eve, I would probably be sitting at the dinner table next to Twilight right now. We’d be telling jokes, she’d probably babble for a half-hour straight about some new chemical equation she discovered in her private laboratory, and I’d listen as closely as possible because I love her and I’d be a total jerk to not try and understand what a big deal said discovery is to her… Anyway, we’d have fun eating the dinner we had spent all day preparing.

It’d be all of our favorite foods, too. Three layer nachos, fruit salad, tomato basil quiche, mini hayburgers (Twilight guzzles them like a vacuum. A vacuum that really freakin’ loves hayburgers), butter-meltingly warm cornbread, scalloped potatoes, discorded eggs, croissants with cranberry sauce, and, just for me, a plate of arranged gemstones.

Instead, tonight will consist of a maple bar, an apple fritter, and a dull half-glazed Hearth’s Warming Eve with disappointment flavored filling, because Twilight had to be called into Canterlot this morning. Apparently there’s some sort of new ‘magical subrace’ in Equestria that the princesses have to discuss, and nopony else is allowed in on the matter… I don’t even care what this subrace is, I’m so disappointed.

Dunkin comes by with my order in hand and drops it off, along with a third donut; a cinnamon frosted one. “Here you go, kid. A third on the house, since you’re lookin’ so crummy.”

It’s only now that I realize I’m slouching in the corner of the booth. “Huh?” I grunt, sitting back up. “Uh, thanks, dude…” I hand him a few bits and start eating the maple bar.

“Happy Hearth’s Warming Eve, kid,” Dunkin says, smiling broadly at me as he goes back to the counter.

“Hey, honey!” I hear Dunkin’s wife shout from the back room. “Could you put the spare dough in the freezer? I gotta take out the garbage before closing time!”

“Coming, dear,” Dunkin chortles as he take his leave.

Did she say closing time? Huh. I must have lost track before I left home. I guess I’ll have to find some place to crash without intruding on anypony’s Hearth’s Warming Eve. I don’t want to spend the night alone in that cold-ass tree. That’d just be pathetic.

I wonder what the apples are up to? They usually have room for one more in the farmhouse. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I slept on the their couch and left in the morning.

Rumble’s probably spending his Hearth’s Warming Eve alone, as per usual. I wonder if he’d like a friend tonight? Choices, choices, choices…

I have a curious look around the donut shop again. Lyra just finished up paying, and she’s gleefully walking away with her box of donuts under her arm. She waves to me as she skips out the door.

Okay, so, I suppose I’ll just close my eyes and pick between the apple fritter and the cinnamon donut. If I pick the former, I’ll go to Sweet Apple Acres. If I pick the latter, I’ll go see what Rumble is up to.

I cover my eyes with one hand and grab the wrapping of one of the donuts with the other. I bring it up to my mouth and start to take a bite. I slowly open my eyes to see which flavor I ended up picking…

“Cupcake?”

I’m greeted with a set of wide blue eyes set in the face of a certain pink party pony we all know and love, causing me to jump back against the window and drop whatever donut I was holding. Whichever one it was, I’ll never know, because Pinkie Pie ends up catching it in the air with her mouth and swallowing it whole. I’m not even mad. That’s impressive.

“Hey, Pinkie…” I mutter, rubbing the back of my head. “Nice outfit.”

As per usual, Pinkie’s wardrobe can be described as the adorably unholy result of spilling an artist’s palette over a clearance aisle, but somehow, she makes it work. Her striped shirt and vest hug her curves perfectly, and I can really dig her miniskirt and red leggings.

Pinkie doesn’t seem interested in my compliment. She seems more focused on me, flattening herself on the booth chair and resting her cheeks in her hands. “Now, what is a handsome dragon like you doing all alone on a night like this? Because that is all sorts of illogical.”

I find it hard to comprehend that she just said that. But I answer her anyway, since she’s apparently fascinated with me at the moment. “You heard about Twilight’s emergency summoning, right?”

"Well, duh! That filly's got some lungs on her, I tell ya! Half of the town probably knew about the new subrace by the time she left!" Pinkie giggles at the thought, before leaning in conspiratorily. "I heard Lyra's started a bet that they're centaurs. But Carrot Top says it's a new species of seaponies! I think that's just silly.”

“That’s what I told Twilight,” I say.

Pinkie nods quickly “I know! I mean, It's so obvious that they're space ponies."

"Uh… what?"

She pouts, crossing her arms and pushing her breasts out in a most distracting way. "Well, we already have earth ponies, and sky ponies, and magic ponies, and the seaponies aren't a 'new' subrace, so the only place left is space!" We sit there in silence for a few seconds, until she tilts her head back a bit. "Unless they're demon ponies from Tartarus. But then wouldn't we already know they exist? How wouldn't we if they're in the prison of Divine's Wrath?"

Alright, if she wants to play this game, then I may as well play along. I sit back up, again, and raise my pointer claw. "That's assuming that this subrace is even from this plane of reality."

Pinkie Pie hops up and clasps her hands together. "Oooooh! Then what do you think they are, Spikey-Wikey?"

I lean back in my seat and glance down to see that Pinkie's already eaten my other two treats. "Maybe they're muffinmares?"

"Ponies made of muffins?!" she cries out in shock, before getting a hungry glint in her eye. "I wonder how I'd taste if I were a muffin..."

“Obviously you’d taste delicious. Muffins taste delicious, don’t they?” I ponder another possibility of a subrace. It’s obvious that nothing we come up with could possibly exist, or be a cause for a summoning, but it is fun to let the imagination go wild. "It could be intelligent zomponies who, despite their undead appearance, just want to live a normal life."

Pinkie Pie taps her chin. "But that would require them coming from some crazy spacefuture world after a cataclysmic event! Maybe it's a flutterpony?"

"You mean like the breezies? I wonder if there's other creatures from their home dimension..." That place is so bright and colorful, I’d swear Pinkie Pie had absorbed its essence years ago. Or, at least her clothing did.

Pinkie Pie continues looking at me, her eyes perpetually wide and happy as the rest of her. Taking into account that she hasn’t done squat except talk to me since she got here, I can’t help but wonder what she’s up to. “So, what brings you to this neck of Ponyville? I thought you were hosting some small bar party.”

Her eyes flash sinisterly, like a villain's glasses from a cheesy action flick. "Ohoho, my dear Spikey, I just knew that there was another friend out there that needed cheering up, and who would I be to make them wait?" She smiles, just the tiniest twitch to it, as she continues. "Besides, leeeaving-a-party is oookay when-everypony's-having-fun!" She sighs, sagging a bit, before bouncing back up. "So! Let's say you and me get our soiree butts outta here, and have ourselves our own party!"

“Huh-what?” I do a double take as Pinkie Pie rolls backwards out of the booth and somehow ends up standing. “You wanna hang? Just clarifying, because… uh...” I brush my spines and chuckle out of embarrassment. “You kinda had perfect timing.”

"'A pie always knows when it's time, so a pie is never late!' My granny told me that when she helped me bake my first lemon meringue." She starts humming at the memory. "I wasn't as good as I am now, but it's still the first thing I ever baked."

I get out of the booth, taking my beanie off the counter and stuffing it in my pocket. “The first thing I ever baked was a peach cobbler. The edges were bone dry, and not in the good, crispy way. I mean, making your teeth hurt dry.”

Pinkie Pie leaps into the air, like she usually does when she gets a sudden idea. “You know, I think I have just the right ingredients for a pretty picture perfect peach cobbler back at Sugarcube Corner.” She takes my hands. “We should totally do some late night baking, just you and me. Late night tasty treats!”

I nod enthusiastically, suddenly overwhelmed with glee that this night isn’t going to be a total disaster. Good food with one of my closest friends? I could think of worse ways to spend Hearth’s Warming Eve. “That sounds truly terrific. I just have one question for you.” I drop my smile and put on a serious face. I ask Pinkie Pie, “Dragon express?”

Pinkie blinks twice. “Dragon express?”

“Dragon express!” I shout, seizing Pinkie’s arms and pulling her towards me. I turn around, and just as Pinkie rams into me, I grab her hips and lift her up. Her legs wrap around my midsection and her arms lock around my neck. She’s letting out her signature ever-lovable giggle all the while.

“Onward, mighty steed!” She points to the exit of the donut shop. I kick the door open and step out into the cold winter air.

"Dragon Express~!" I sing aloud grandly, before taking off at a full sprint, Pinkie shrieking and giggling all the while as we make our way to Sugarcube Corner. Even at full speed, though, the snow keeps hindering my progress, slowing us down to a steady jog.

The streets of Ponyville are mostly empty, and the snowfall is reducing visibility to just about nil. It makes it seem as though Pinkie and I are the only two ponies in the world, at least for the moment. It’s just us, goofing off as we make total mules out of ourselves.

I’m a worse mule for slipping on an ice patch and stumbling into the curb, greeting a lump of snow with my face. I pull my head out of the white. “Well, that was certainly my proudest moment,” I snark, looking around for Pinkie Pie. “Where’d you go?”

Her face comes into view, only it’s upside down. I look up to see she’s hanging upside down from a lamppost. “Hi,” she says with a giggle.

"Gee, first you pull me away from the donuts, and now you're poledancing?"

"Pole what?" she asks as she starts twirling around the horizontal bar. "I'm pole vaulting!" She lets go suddenly, propelling herself up to the second floor window of Sugarcube Corner, then looks down at me. "The front door's locked, so come on up!"

“Why’s it locked?”

“To keep out burglars, silly!”

“And you don’t have the keys?”

“What do I look like? The gatekeeper?”

I shake my head, grinning as I say, "You're crazy, you know that?" I spread my wings and leap into the air. All it takes is a single wingbeat to get me up to Pinkie’s level. She grabs my arms and, in an oddly impressive feat of strength, pulls me up to the window.

I have to shuffle around a bit to get in a comfortable position, but I have to admit, this isn’t half bad. It’s nice and cozy up on this perch. And Pinkie Pie is just smiling away, as per usual. One thing that I never get tired of with her is that she’s able to find enjoyment in almost everything she does, and that’s her most infectious trait. All we’ve done is walk from one place to another, and I’m having the time of my life. She even made getting into the house itself an adventure.

“Hearth’s Warming Eve with the living incarnation of fun… This should be an experience,” I mutter. “So, what would you like to do?”

“Get inside where it’s warm, for one.” Pinkie Pie knocks on the window and pulls it up. She slithers inside like a snake and gets back up instantly. “Come on, Spikey-Wikey!”

I duck my head and crawl inside to Pinkie Pie’s bedroom. The place seems roomier than usual, but I think I know why. Ever since Pumpkin and Pound Cake got their own room, Pinkie has had full run of this place. It’s pretty sparse without any toys littering the ground.

I make sure to shut the window behind me to prevent a draft. The instant the window hits the frame, I start to feel warm again. I know it’s one hell of a winter when I can actually feel the cold, and desire such warmth. It means I can finally get out of these clothes, which are all wet with melted snow.

“Just throw your clothes anywhere,” Pinkie says as she sits down on her bed and removes her shoes.

I take off my jacket and hoodie and lay them out in the corner to dry. Unfortunately, I’m left in a predicament when I realize that my shirt is soaked too. Well, this could get awkward... “Uh, Pinkie? I’m in a situation where either my shirt gets all messed up, or I go shirtless for a while. Is that okay?”

“Go ahead, take it off,” she says in her usual tone as she gets off the bed. “There’s nothing weird about getting comfortable.” In a bizarre act that makes me step back a little, Pinkie approaches me and grabs the folds of my shirt. I automatically lift up my arms as she peels the wet cloth off of my chest and over my head.

As if this wasn’t already awkward enough, the remaining moisture makes my scaled muscles slick and shiny in the dim light of her bedside lamp.

"See? Now relax!"

I'm not relaxed. At all. I'm starting to get really not-relaxed, in fact.

Seeing this, Pinkie frowns and bends over. "I know what the problem is!" she declares, as she pulls off her leggings with a hop. "You're not comfortable..." With a twirl, her jacket and shirt go flying off, the shirt landing in a clothes hamper and the jacket smacking into a hanger in the closet. "...because I'm still wearing..." Now in just a tank top (and I mean just; she's a free spirit, that's for sure) and skirt, she shucks the skirt off too, before I can avert my eyes, to show that she's wearing a pair of well-fitting undershorts that hug her waist but don't chafe her thighs. "...too much! There we go!" She gives a small jump, and her breasts follow her a second after. "I'd go shirtless like you are, but Mrs. Cake said that she doesn't like that sort of thing. I wonder why?”

“I can’t possibly imagine,” I mutter, amazed I’m able to form a complete sentence.

She does have a point, though. Seeing her act utterly shameless about her curvy body and large, buoyant breasts pretty much kills anything embarrassing about being shirtless in front of her. I guess I’m more modest than I realized.

“Well, now I’ve got a different problem,” I mention. While I’m at least seventy-two percent sure I know the gist of what Pinkie Pie’s answer is gonna be, I still think it’s necessary to bring this up, considering I’ll just come off as a huge creep if I bring it up later. “Will it be okay if I sleep in my underwear?”

"Sleep?" She looks genuinely confused, but her eyes are too wide-eyed and innocent, as per usual, for me to take it at face value.

"Yeah, sleep. Since my clothes are pretty much toast and the weather's trying to bust down the door?"

Pinkie smiles, swaying her hips as she rocks back and forth. "But why would you sleep in your underwear?"

Make that eighty-three. That wink, and the way she waggles her tongue, those are obvious... but could just be her being silly. "Because it's more comfortable than wearing borked pants to bed."

Her eyes and smile light up like a pinball machine. "Then why don't ya just go without your underwear, too?"

Ninety-nine percent.

With a dismissive shrug, Pinkie points towards the door. “We’ll worry about it later. To the kitchen, for peach cobbler awaits us!"

You can plan ahead all you like, but the law of the universe dictates that your plans, like my snow soaked pants, may or may not end up totally borked. Sometimes life throws you a curveball, and you’ll have to switch out your old plans for something equally good. It probably won’t be what you expect, but if you let go of sentiment for a little bit and appreciate the unexpected…

My point is, there’s nothing wrong with expecting peach cobbler and getting cappuccino muffins instead.

I lean back against the kitchen counter as I down the last bit of hot cocoa. I hear the oven’s buzzer go off. It catches me by surprise and makes me shake, dropping the cup. I catch it with the edge of my wing. “Whoops!”

“Nice catch!” Pinkie compliments, leaning over the counter.

"Yeah? Fluttershy taught me that." I lift the mug back up to my lips, before setting it on the counter. "She's got way finer muscle control than Dash does; she can use her primary feathers like little fingers without having to think about it. It's pretty cool."

"Wow, I didn't know Fluttershy was so talented! Didja learn all that while takin' flying lessons?" Pinkie sets a tray of muffins on the counter, kicking the oven shut with a snap, and reaching past me to grab my mug for a refill.

"They weren't so much 'lessons' as they were 'pointers.' I got ahold of the basics by watching Rainbow Dash teach Scootaloo, way before I even got my wings. Fluttershy just filled in the blanks for me in exchange for some help with her yardwork."

“How very expository!” Pinkie says. After she hands me my refill, she starts setting out the muffins on a rack. “Okay, let’s give these bad boys a go.”

I take one of the smaller muffins. It’d be rude to snatch a big one from Ponyville’s resident sugar enthusiast. “Moment of truth.” I take a slow bite, just to savor what is inevitably going to be a million times better than any maple bar.

Aaaaaand I was right! The chocolate chips provide warmth to the soft yet firm bread, and the subtle bitter taste of the bread keeps the sweetness of the chocolate from being overwhelming. It’s perfect balance in the form of a pastry.

"Mmmm…!" Pinkie had tossed a whole one into her mouth, and already has her eyes set on another one. Reaching out with both hands, she grabs two as I take another savory bite.

"You know," I start, before taking a drink to clear my mouth. "You know, I'm not sure if a glorified coffee cake is what you need right now, you look like you've got enough energy to power Canterlot for a week."

Pinkie sticks her tongue out at me, before setting one of her two muffins on it and gulping it down. "No way! I live a super-duper active lifestyle! I have to to make sure I know where ponies aren't gonna be, but are about to be, so that I can better plan my surprise parties!" She eats her other muffin and reaches out for a fourth. "That takes a lot of effort!"

I feel bad for being surprised at this. Pinkie's always been a bit eccentric, sure, but she never dismissed somepony else's actions out of hand. "I always took that as Pinkie Pie just being Pinkie Pie," I say aloud, shrugging before taking another bite of muffin. "These are really good, by the way. Wish I had some topaz. The smoky, cinnamon-y taste would go great with these."

“Really?” Pinkie asks, moving a little bit closer to me. She takes another bite. For some reason, this one is slower, and more savory. She looks up at me with those impossibly wide eyes as she licks her lips. “Are there any gemstones that taste like chocolate?”

“Yeah, of course. Hematite is like milk chocolate. For dark chocolate, there’s black tourmaline…” I trail off when I notice a naughty bit of chocolate has escaped Pinkie’s mouth and has found a home on her cheek. It’s a blemish on her perfect complexion. “Uh, you’ve got a little…”

"Hmm?" She bats her eyelashes at me, her eyelids fluttering questioningly. She's leaning in so close to me that I can't point at my own lip to let her know, so instead I set down my hot chocolate and reach over.

"I’ll get it." As I finish wiping the goopy crumbs from her face, her eyes flick down to my claw. Then, she does something I’ve never seen her do before: She puts her food down.

Before I’m able to ask why she just did that, I get my answer. She grabs my wrist with one hand, then parts my claws with another. She sticks out her tongue and starts to lap up bits of chocolate from my pointer claw. She then turns my hand over, licking the rest off of my palm.

She doesn’t stop there. What started off as something weird yet innocent enough turns into something outright naughty when Pinkie takes two of my claws into her mouth and starts sucking.

"Uh," I manage rather eloquently. Usually, when I’m in this kind of situation with a mare or stallion, it's because we’d agreed to it beforehand. Of course, I shouldn’t expect Pinkie to try and comprehend how her quirkier actions can affect somepony, but the way she's running her tongue along my fingers is just... "Woah," I croak, as she lets go with a wet pop.

But, if she’s going to be so forward about it, I may as well try to keep up. I only pause for a moment before I take ahold of her arm and pull her in, closing the small distance between us. When she collides with me, I bring my hands to her cheeks and meet her lips with mine for a sudden spicy kiss.

I can taste chocolate and coffee off of her tongue, but it’s made all the sweeter because it’s from her mouth. There’s something else in there as well…

I moan into the kiss before pulling away, the spiciness not just in my imagination. "Did you chug a bottle of Mule Kick hot sauce again?"

Pinkie giggles breathlessly, her eyes fluttering seductively. "Nooo, but I am wearing Liquid Rainbow chapstick. It's a bit spicy, but it beats carrying a bottle of hot sauce all the time!"

“Well, you taste good,” I say. It takes me a moment to realize how dirty that sounds. I cough into my fist a few times and try to save face. “I mean, ergh, it tastes good.” I make up for that little flub with a little tickle of one of Pinkie’s almost overly luscious legs, specifically her thigh. Then I rub my palm along the exposed portion of her, for lack of a better way to describe, perfectly rotund ass. I mean, sweet Celestia. I could bounce a volleyball of of this beauty.

Pinkie keeps giggling between touches of my claws and the interspersed kisses on her cute little muzzle. This is happening, and I can only really describe it as an indecisive threeway scale of cute, sexy, and just plain unusual. Hopefully Pinkie and I will find a middle ground by the end of the night.

“So, I believe there was some mention of a private party?” I ask, laying on the smoulder.

"Depends on what you'd consider 'private,'" she moans into our next kiss. "Wanna play in the party room, or take see what Pinkie's got in her little ol' toy box?"

One of those sounds very hurty. “Uh… Whichever one involves you and me taking the rest of these muffins upstairs, because I feel like I need to get a little more comfortable.” I tug at Pinkie Pie’s tank top as I say that.

"To the toy box, and my room, it is!" She declares with a regal trill. Scooping up the remaining muffins, she skips and hops up the stairs, and I clamber up after her, feeling so confused and aroused right now.

Oh, and by the way, one hundred percent.

Pinkie Pie doesn't even give me a moment's relaxation on the bed. Just as I sit down, she hops onto my lap, smothering me in a long, open mouthed kiss. She keeps doing that. Just as I think I have a moment to breathe, she sticks her lips in my face again. Not that I'm complaining.

Her aforementioned sweet ass is the real pleasure giver in this position. She's grinding it into my boxer-briefs, slowly yet surely bringing up a certain sign of affection. As I grow harder, her body becomes increasingly harder to resist.

My mouth finally gets away from her lips long enough for me to talk. "So, what should we do first? Vanilla ice cream or, uh..." I glance over to the suspicious toy chest. "Rocky road?"

"We~ell," she starts, putting a hand to her chin. "Can you even make rocky road without vanilla?"

“Touché,” I whisper to her. I slip my fingers beneath the lining of her shorts. “So, how about we get these pesky things off of you?”

“Oh, Spike, you animal,” she growls playfully as she nibbles on one of my ears. A shiver goes down my spine as I pull her shorts down, caressing her voluptuous rear, kneading it until my hands pull away, my mouth moving from her neck, to her breasts, to her stomach, trailing kisses all the while as my hands slowly slide down her luscious legs and to her feet.

She giggles a bit as I swirl my tongue against the bared flesh of her hip, but when I drop her shorts, I trail my tongue up her body, pulling her tank top up, and stopping when I’ve uncovered her marvelous, plump tits. “Hang out often, or only when I’m around?” I ask her. She moans as I flick my tongue against her nipples, her hands pressing down on my shoulders as she tries to hold herself up.

“Sp-Spike! I-it’s not nice to te-ahh-tease!”

I smile at her, as even through her pouting façade I can see she’s loving it. I move my hands to her hips again, running my claws along her firm, jiggly butt as I start inching her panties down.

“You’re pretty wet,” I say, my voice deep and husky, “for a girl who doesn’t like to be teased...” As her panties reach her knees, I let go of them, running my hands up and down her sides as she shivers and moans, before grabbing her tank-top and pulling it over her head, and sliding it down those tantalizingly supple arms.

When I have her hands in mine, her tank-top tight in our joined grip, I pull her up and into a kiss, no less needy than before, and hook her panties with my tail, yanking them to her ankles as I push her towards the bed.

With a soft gasp, she lands on the covers, legs pulled up but leaving her pulsing pink pussy exposed, her eyes filled with excitement, trust, and even a little love. “You’ve really grown up, haven’t you, Spike?”

I’ve crawled onto the bed with her, looking down at her, her face still looking fit to burst in childish wonderment. “Yeah..?” I ask, nearly breathless as I hold myself from just ravaging this sexy pink minx. “Why, something on your mind?” I let my eyes roam down her body for a moment, before bringing them back to her face. Down, boy. Wait till she says go.

She looks away, a small frown on her face. “Do you think... Am I still childish?”

I let out the most draconic growl I’ve ever made as I bring my lips to hers, in what becomes a battle to the breath between our twisting tongues.

“Pinkie...” I manage to say as my muscles tense and relax, feeling an almost primal rage at holding back... which just makes it all the more delicious. “What’s that gotta do with anything? Your being playful?” I steal another kiss as I fondle her breasts near absent-mindedly. “You love playing. You love parties. But that doesn’t make ya childish, and I’m really going crazy here...” The end of my sentence is a throaty groan as I push my lips forwards again, and it seems that, for now, Pinkie’s content with my answer.

“Mmm, thank you, Spikey-Wikey.” She lays an oddly gentle kiss on my cheek, and again on my lips. Just for a moment, those primal instincts of mine fade away as my friend and I grope each other’s bodies and violate each other’s mouths with our tongues.

“I mean, come on.” I move away from Pinkie, getting on my knees. She looks so cute, the way she hugs her curvaceous figure. “There’s nothing wrong with embracing your inner child. Besides, if you tried to be anything less than, well, you…” I grab the lining of my boxer-briefs and start to pull down. My very apparent erection is making it difficult, though. “Ahem, hold on…”

Pinkie gets on her knees as well. Her breasts flatten against my chest as she presses herself against me, treating me to yet another wet kiss. This distracts me enough to get my hands away from my boxers, which leaves Pinkie free to grab them and slide them down my legs by herself.

“I… lost my train of thought,” I mutter clumsily as Pinkie pulls away from me.

With our bodies unclothed and unrestrained, what happens next is a disheveled scramble for dominance. I try to get Pinkie to fall onto her back with a subtle push, but she fights back by throwing her arms around my shoulders and forcefully pushing into me, sending me down instead. As soon as I hit the covers of the bed, I roll over with Pinkie in tow and slam my hands to her arms and pin her. She smirks up at me. I don’t have time to react to her legs locking around my lower back. “Gotcha!”

"Damn you...!" Pinkie's legs are as strong as they are lengthy, and they have me a completely dead lock as Pinkie flips over, bringing me down onto the bed. I'm left disoriented after the collision. All I see when I turn over is a pink hourglass hopping onto me. Then my vision clears.

Pinkie claps her hands as she straddles my stomach. She hops up and down excitedly, though she’s thankfully careful not to put all her weight on me. “Give up yet?” she chirps.

I narrow my eyes at her challengingly as I flex my arms and chest against her thighs. "Give up? I'm a dragon, Pinkie," I say as my tail flops free from beneath me. "Dragons don't give up. We keep at it until we get what we want!" I throw my shoulders and head up, sending her backwards between my legs as I sit up on the bed, my tail wrapping around her wrists.

I purr at her, laughter dancing through my voice, as I lean in and whisper: "And what I really want is you." I try to make it menacing. I really do. But Pinkie's giggle fit as she leans into another kiss tells me I'm still not good at playing the bad guy.

"Well, I want you, Spike!" Pinkie declares as she wiggles her plump rump on my thick dick. She flutters her eyes at me again, holding one closed for a second as she tries to pout through her smile. "But I guess we can't give each other ourselves until Hearth's Warming, huh? It's no good to unwrap your gifts early, is it?"

She presses her lips to mine, and her memetic smile gets me to grin again. "Twilight always did say I was a naughty little drake." I press into her with another kiss, pulling her to the bed so I'm on top once more. Breaking the kiss to nuzzle her ear, I whisper, "I used to always open my presents long before she woke up." I pull away from Pinkie, and for what feels like the first time ever, Pinkie is completely calm and relaxed, a wide, loving smile on her face as I stop holding her down and move to kiss her breasts, then her stomach, and finally her thighs. I only stop to look up to her once more, just waiting for her to say the word.

"Go ahead, Spike," she says. "Open your present."

I hesitate only a second longer, expecting her to say more, before I kiss her lower lips.

The instant I come into contact with her, Pinkie sets off an unusually arousing fit of giggles and moans, seguing from the former into the latter without even stopping to take a breath. That’s only from my kisses; when I part my lips and give her a good lick, it somehow causes her to shake her legs. Pinkie Pie certainly thrills easily. If her reaction doesn’t make that clear enough, the nectar I feel on my lips does.

It almost makes me nervous to see what happens when her little nub is exposed. I test the waters with my thumb, which makes Pinkie tense up and fall onto her back with a definite shiver. She looks down at me and shows off an almost manic grin, putting down any worries; I thought, just for a second, that I had made her climax already.

With that out of the way, I go for it. I stick out my tongue, tracing the pink of Pinkie Pie until I reach the peak. Her sugarlump, to be crude.

I’m not all that surprised when Pinkie thrusts her pelvis into the air. I have to grope her thighs to keep ahold of her, and keep on licking. She stretches out her arms in all sorts of directions to cope. “Whee! Ahahaha! Keep doing that, mmm…” She licks her fingers and sucks on them, probably to calm herself.

“That feels good, huh?” I ask, pulling my lips away. I don’t leave her hanging; I put my central digits to work, feeling up her clit and insides while I give my mouth a break.

After a long pause, interspersed only with small, wet noises and the occasional moan, Pinkie stops sucking her fingers long enough to reply to me. “So good! Can’t you feel how wet I am?”

"Yeah," I say with a small chuckle. I push into Pinkie’s slit especially hard as I follow up her dirty talk. “So wet. We’re gonna have to do something about that, aren’t we?”

Pinkie nods rapidly.

I let go of Pinkie’s lower body and slither up her hourglass figure like the reptile that I am. I plant soft little licks and kisses along her pelvis, around her belly, along the curvature of her ample breasts, then settle my chin in her cleavage as I stare into her half-lidded eyes, my arms wrapping around her. I can feel the beads of sweat building on her fur.

With a little push on her back and a brush on her chest, I coax Pinkie into turning onto her side. As she tilts her head my way, she has a look of understanding and anticipation for whatever it is I’m about to do to her— with her. She cooperates with my actions perfectly as I clutch her from behind. My claws get a healthy handful of her chest, which I bathe in yet another series of licks. Pinkie giggles all the while, until I nuzzle her cheek.

“You’re a real hugger, aren’tcha?” she asks, as if it isn’t obvious. This is my chance to get close with a mare. I’m not just going to spend it just thrusting. I’m going to touch her, feel her, and make sure she knows her body is a freakin’ temple. Even Pinkie Pie, the ball of energy she is, deserves a slow embrace as my cock presses against her now inflated and moist lips.

As I push inside of Pinkie, her laughs and moans merge into a strange mixture that only she’d ever be able to make sexy, and as much as that turns me on, I can’t help but be distracted when I realize Pinkie isn’t as tight as I thought she’d be. I mean, good for her, but this wasn’t what I expected when I figured out I’d be having a private party with her.

A sweaty, balmy, touch-me-everywhere-I-want-to-feel-you-oh-goddesses-please kind of private party.

Even when I intensify my thrusting, I keep thinking to myself, because being inside of Pinkie, groping the adorable pudge of her raised leg, somehow brings out the thinker in me, because even in my dirtiest fantasies I never imagined myself in her bed, not that I’m complaining. I wonder if this is a usual offer of hers? Pinkie has more friends than anypony else could handle. What if she has a few of them set aside for ‘friends with benefits’?

I come to my answer while I engage Pinkie in a messy, kiss that wreaths our lips in saliva. No, Pinkie isn’t the sort of mare that would do favors. Word travels fast around Ponyville. I would have known about it. No, this is clearly something special. Just for me.

I stop thrusting, just for a moment, so I can ask her something. “So, how long is this little present for Spikey-Wikey going to last?” I growl at Pinkie, hissing into her ear and tickling her with my naughty forked tongue. After that, I pick up where I left off.

I hear a distinct murr coming off of her lips when she stops laughing. “Oooh…” And moaning. “It’s the party planner’s code. If the party is a sleepover, it’s courteous for the host to be the last one to go to bed.”

“Sooo…” My hand makes a little journey down her stomach, with my pointer claw tracing circles at her pelvis. “If I’m awake, you’re awake.”

I can feel her inner walls clamping down on my length. I figured that much would happen when I touched her clit again, but it’s incredible how eager she is, not just in mind, but in body as well. She’ll never say it, because it would go against her innocent nature, but I can tell that she wants me. I can feel it in her nethers, her messy kisses, her sweat, every single adorably erotic noise she makes…

Pinkie’s arm captures my head in a lock and seizes me downward, until all I can see is her eyes, muzzle and mouth, which remains open in an extended moan. She’s saying something, but it’s all gibberish to me. Then again, I’m probably saying the same nonsense. It’s because I’m getting close, and my mind is pretty much kaput at this point. I’m lost in a hot maelstrom of raw desire that I just can’t control. Curse this dragon inside of me. There’s no going back now.

Although Pinkie Pie does find it in her to say something coherent. “Spike, faster, please!”

No double entendre. No puns. No implications. That’s the least Pinkie Pie-esque thing I’ve ever heard come out of her mouth tonight, but that’s what makes it so sexy, and it’s what pushes me over the edge.

With a draconic roar, a hard vice grip on Pinkie’s breasts, and a single moment where the edges of my vision collapse, I let loose. Much to Pinkie’s satisfaction, of course; my burst of liquid into her sweet nethers is what pushes her over along with me. Her head cranes upwards as she comes, her wetness intensifying, mixing with my hot cum and draining down her leg, ending up on the sheets.

For an eternity, or at least a few seconds, all that’s left is us panting like dogs after a long, exhausting run. At least, until Pinkie raises her arm. I’m expecting her lay it on me and feel up my spines, or something like that, but all she does is wiggle her fingers.

“Spiiiike,” she says, halfway between weak and energized. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

Now I get it. I raise my arm and give her a high five. “Booyah.”

Pinkie and I break contact, ending up on our backs as we let the last bits of ecstasy roll over us and leave our bodies. I won’t be surprised if I’m out of it longer than Pinkie, because she seems to be breathing regularly now, and I’m still trying to catch my breath.

The curvaceous mare rolls her beautiful self off of the bed and stands up. She bounces over to the toy chest, which has been taunting me since the beginning of this little romp.

Pinkie opens up the chest and starts looking through it. “I wouldn’t believe how happy I was when Pound and Pumpkin got their own room. I was running out of places to store my secret collection.”

Despite my head feeling a little empty, I somehow manage to sit up and take a peek at Pinkie’s rummaging. I can see that she doesn’t have a shortage of eggs, my gosh… No wonder she wakes up with so much enthusiasm. Aside from those, she has the obvious artificial shafts and battery powered ‘marital aids.’ Obviously, she favors them in bright pinks, blues and greens. Well, except for…

“That’s impressive,” I say, pointing at the giant black rubber horsecock in her hand.

“I made it myself!” Pinkie exclaims with pride. “The flat end is weighted and sticky. Usually I just put it on the floor and…” She suddenly looks more red in the face than pink. “Whoop! Tee em eye!”

“Huh.” That’s an enticing image she just gave me. However, it seems that horsecocks are out of the question for tonight. Pinkie puts that giant thing away.

Okay, we’ve moved past the obvious toys. I can’t really think of what else Pinkie would have, unless she’s into some gnarly stuff, which honestly wouldn’t surprise me, and I would be okay with that. And I am not okay with that.

Pinkie’s search through the toy chest takes about a minute. It’s accompanied with a generous view of her plump, curvy, naked ass, so I’m not complaining in the slightest. I know she’s found what she’s been looking for when she utters a little “Ooh!” and stands up, clutching something in her hands.

“The best presents are the simple ones!” she says, turning around and presenting two scarves, one checker patterned and other with polka dots. I have a general idea of what can be done with those, and I smile excitedly for what could happen next.

Pinkie skips up to me and grabs my arms as she brings her muzzle close to mine. Her brief, playful snog distracts me long enough for her to cross my arms and wrap one of the scarves around them. With a firmly tied knot, my arms are locked behind me.

“Do you trust me?” Pinkie asks as she presents the other scarf.

I stick my tongue out at her and close my eyes. “Duh.”

She takes that as permission to give my head the same treatment as my arms. Now I’m on my knees, unable to see or move my arms. If I wasn’t doing this willingly, this would be one of the worst possible things, but that’s the thing about bondage; there’s this knowledge that no matter how rough things get, you’ll eventually be able to move your limbs again, so you may as well enjoy the moment.

Aside from the muted texture and pattern of the scarf (I’m wearing the polka dotted one), all I can see is the barely visible silhouette of Pinkie Pie. It’s growing bigger. Unable to be proactive in my current state, all I can do is accept her gift of lips and tongue, as well as the heightened sensation of her hands touching my chest, fondling my pecs.

Eventually her tongue misses my mouth and starts going down, as if she’s the blindfolded one. It takes me longer than it should to realize that she’s mouthing my chin and neck intentionally. Her fingers descend my torso, with her tongue following suit, leaving a moist saliva trail. She’s hungry for something, and I think I know what.

Left only to feel Pinkie’s lips take in the head of my reptilian cock rather than watch her actions, I can’t brace myself for anything she does. As such, everything that would normally be, well, obviously incredibly hot and orgasm-inducing, is now even more so.

While it is a bit of a bummer to be deprived of sight, I can at least enjoy the heat of Pinkie’s musty breath on my already warm drakehood. Every single brush of her tongue on the head, trailing downward until she reaches the middle and retreats back up, it’s amazing. I don’t have to look. I can feel everything.

“Mmm, I found the best lollipop of all, and it’s not even for sale…” says the dirty girl.

If I could move my arms, this would be the part where I’d stroke her curly mane. At least she didn’t give me a ball gag. “Yep. It’s a special sort of Hearth’s Warming present. Very exclusive.”

Actually, forget feeling everything; I can hear everything. Pinkie gives an amazing blowjob, but she’s in no way subtle. She’d rather make her arousal known to me with several loud hums every time she takes me into her mouth. Those hums cause my cock to vibrate, making me gasp and hum in return.

“Mmmmrah,” she moans. “Good thing I took it… Some other mare could have stolen it away from me..”

Knowing Pinkie’s affection for all things confectionary, it makes sense that she’d take her time enjoying certain treats, like this one. She takes a pause with her sucking to let my cock stand almost vertically, then makes an elongated pass of her tongue along its entire length. She grabs me by the shaft and balls, then uses her tongue to tease where the two meet.

As she takes me back into her mouth again, rapidly moving along my cock in repeated dives, I can feel my end coming up once again. That’s when I realize something; I can still move my hips.

When Pinkie dives again, I move forward, allowing her lips to touch my base. When she pulls away again, all of my shaft is coated in her spit. My cock tingles with every bit of cold winter air on its surface, as well as the gentle ministrations of Pinkie’s eager tongue and fingers.

“Oooh! Idea!” Pinkie chirps. I feel the bed shifting about, so it’s obvious that she’s moving. Not entirely sure what for, though… “Spiiiike? Could you move forward a little?”

“Yeah.” I do as she asks. The head of my cock touches another pair of lips. Moist, warm, yet… quivering. Ah, Pinkie Pie, you clever little succubus! With what little control I have, given the condition of my hands, I settle for gently rubbing Pinkie’s vulva, just barely piercing her, until her moans become loud and desperate enough for me to decide she’s ready.

To be blunt, I fuck her.

While I pump into her with gradually, clumsily increasing speed, I think back to when I was young and stupid, and I told somepony (I can’t remember who) that I could please a mare with my arms tied around my back. Granted, at the time I didn’t even know what oral sex was, but even so, the memory is hilarious to me now.

Due to her amazing blowjob, I’m already at my limit. I won’t be able to bring her to an orgasm. “Pinkie, I—”

She won’t hear any of it. “Come ooon, Spike! Just let it all out! I don’t mind!”

That’s all the permission I need.

My whole lower body shivers and spasms as my climax overtakes me. Pinkie feels this, apparently, and decides to remove me from her lower lips. The bed shifts again, so I can assume she’s turning around, and I’d be right; I can feel her tongue on my cock again, lapping at the tip, ready to receive.

My load is, as per usual, massive. Wave after wave of white bursts from my cock and fills Pinkie’s mouth, though I don’t need to be blindfolded to know it’s coating her face too. Knowing her, she won’t mind in the slightest; when she isn’t savoring her dessert, she’s a messy eater.

My fourth and fifth waves are the weakest, coming out at a mere dribble. Pinkie doesn’t hesitate to lick the semen off of my slowly softening cock. She’s very thorough.

I see her fingers grabbing the blindfold. She tears it off quickly, finally letting me see the results of her little domination. I look down at her, seeing that her face has received a decent coating of white, and chuckle.

“Creeeeamy, creamy frosting,” she says with a hint of longing in her voice.

“I thought it was a lollipop.”

“Oh, don’t bring politics into this, Spike.” Pinkie hops up, leaps off the bed, and goes to the door. “Now, come on. I wanna take a shower. We can lick each other clean.”

That… might just be the hottest thing I’ve heard all year. Sweetie Belle will have to work super hard to beat down Pinkie’s dirty talk.

As I follow Pinkie Pie through the second floor hallway, I surprise myself by actually being able to keep my eyes off of her bodacious behind. Instead, my thoughts are of Sweetie Belle, and the reasons why I’m not spending a romantic Hearth’s Warming Eve in bed with her, sipping eggnog between kisses, falling asleep with her curled around me… Hell, I could take or leave the sex. I would be happy just being with her.

But then that new label of hers called and offered her a shot most rockstars would take a leisurely stroll in Tartarus for. Demoness Records, the label that supports Vinyl Scratch and Sapphire Shores and all the other awesome artists out there, said that if Sweetie could bring in a metric crapton of bits at a Hearth’s Warming charity concert, they would sign her on for five albums right then and there. I couldn’t have been happier for her.

The problem? A blizzard kept Sweetie from boarding the train back home from the Crystal Empire. I was bummed, but Sweetie sent all her love and a care package of sweets. I was left to change my plans and organize the usual dinner with Twilight, but then she got her summons. That’s when my mood hit rock bottom.

For the first time in my life, I felt truly alone. No friends, no family, no love… As temporary as it was, it was still miserable.

Thank goodness for Pinkie Pie. She went out of her way to make this a wonderful night. I’m sure that if I had asked for a simple night of just baked goods, movies, perhaps painting each other’s nails and talking about cute boys, she would have made it happen. Instead, I got something even better.

It’s nights like these that make me thankful for me and Sweetie Belle’s arrangement.

I step into the bathroom, where Pinkie Pie is cleaning her face with a wet towel. The shower is running, probably still heating up, so I have a little time to spare.

Any other pervert would take the opportunity to get his hands dirty with the girl in front of him, but that’s beneath me. Instead, I hug Pinkie from behind and give her a long, deep nuzzle.

“Thanks.”

Author's Note

Sorry if this one seemed rushed. I just wanted to get it finally done.

The next chapter will be the last. Don't worry, I'm still gonna cover Braeburn and Soarin, I just don't think their story warrants a whole chapter.

Thanks for reading.

Hearth's Warming Day
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Cold Drinks and Warm Hearts

Hearth's Warming Day

When Spike opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the ceiling of Pinkie Pie’s room. It’s nothing new to him, but a feeling of confusion overcomes him when he realizes he isn’t in Pinkie’s bed anymore, for whatever reason. Instead, he’s curled up on a pillow on the floor. His naked body is covered by sheets, which are riddled with teeth and claw marks. He catches a whiff of frosting and sweat as he takes in his first breath of the morning.

He looks over the footboard of the bed to see Pinkie Pie there, lying flat on her stomach with only a single blanket for censorship. Strands of her hair in front of her mouth move like a swingset as she snores and mutters the exact recipe for chocolate chip mocha muffins. One of the aforementioned treats stands on a plate on the bedside table, tantalizingly staring at Spike and demanding his consumption.

Spike tries to crawl out of his sheets but something snags on his wrist, holding him back. He turns around to see his arm is still caught in Pinkie Pie’s set of fur-decorated handcuffs, which keeps him tethered to the leg of the bed. He simply laughs, then stretches out his arm to reach for the muffin. His claws come within mere centimeters of touching the delicious confectionary wonder…

Pinkie Pie’s hand smacks his claws away. “Mine,” she murmurs. She grabs the muffin and takes a hefty bite, all without opening her eyes. Spike wonders if she’s even awake yet.

“Remind me never to come between you and your sweets again.” Spike turns around and starts to yank on the chain of the handcuffs. “Uh, could I get a little help? I need the key.”

Pinkie swallows her bite before talking in a grumble. “Dunno where it is…”

Spike racks his brain to remember the safe word from the night before. He snaps his fingers when it comes to him. “Glockenspiel. Where’s the key?”

“Told ya, I dunno…”

Spike sighs and rubs his eyes. “Well, wish I could say this is the first time this has happened. Do you have a saw?”

Just when he thinks this situation can’t get any more hilarious, he hears a click at the door, followed by a knock. Spike recognizes the motherly charm of Mrs. Cake’s voice instantly. “Pinkie! It’s already eight in the morning. Come on down for breakfast. Pound and Pumpkin are getting antsy.”

Pinkie’s eyes snap open. As if she hadn’t even slept at all, she leaps out of bed, grabs the sheets away from Spike (Except for one, which she leaves for modesty) and starts making the bed. She then dives for her dresser, grabs a blue night dress and throws it on.

Spike makes use of his limited range to grab whatever naughty toy he can reach. Long ones, round ones, bendy ones, oddly shaped ones, disturbingly lifelike ones… he tosses them into Pinkie’s toy box. Pinkie picks up the slack and grabs whatever Spike can’t, slamming the toy chest shut and finding a seat next to Spike just as the door opens.

“Good morning!” both Pinkie and Spike say, smiling broadly at a rotund and very confused mare.

"Hi… Ah, I see you've had a friend over." Mrs. Cake shifts a bit uncomfortably as she glances around the room. "Well, that would probably explain where the frosting went, and why I found this in the freezer..." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small key.

"Ooh, ooh, can I have that?" Pinkie asks, bouncing where she sits. "I kiiinda need it."

Mrs. Cake carefully hands the key off to Pinkie. “Okay… Not that I mind seeing you, Spike. Just, seeing so much of you…”

“Sorry about that,” Spike says, shrugging his one free arm. “If I had known you’d be here this morning, I would have ducked out already.”

“Oh, you’ll do no such thing!” Mrs. Cake folds her arms. “Surely you’re not going to leave without having something to eat? We have cranberries.”

“Well…”

“How about some toast and orange juice? Come now, you look famished. And I have a sneaking suspicion you need to, ahem,” Mrs. Cake shows off a heavy blush, “rehydrate.”

It’s only now that Spike realizes how parched he is, making the offer of orange juice suddenly very appealing. “That sounds wonderful. We’ll be down in just a bit.”

Mrs. Cake starts to retreat. “Take all the time you need.” Just before she closes the door, she adds, “And make sure you wash up. At least three times. Wash up many times. Please.” The door goes shut, leaving Spike and Pinkie Pie to look at each other and smile, sharing a chuckle.

It’s a mild surprise to Spike when Pinkie embraces him, her arms locking tightly around his back. “Hm, you know… I don’t think I want to wash up just yet,” Spike says with a flirty snarl. He takes the key from Pinkie’s hand and tosses it aside. As he gets himself a feel of Pinkie’s back and shoulder, he laments that she wouldn’t be wearing her admittedly beautiful nightdress for very long.

“Ooh, Spiiike…” Pinkie coos right into Spike’s fin. She retracts her arms to allow the flirty dragon to grope her hips. He squeezes them tight and takes the dress in his grip. In just one quick motion, he would have it off, and Pinkie would be completely exposed to him… “Mmm, the train is arriving at the station…”

“Yeah it is…” Spike blinks twice. He stops undressing Pinkie to say, “I’m sorry, what?”

Pinkie points to her knee. “My knee bone’s a-twitchin’. That means there’s a train arriving at the train station.”

“What does that have to do with…” Spike’s eyes widen, and his blush intensifies. He slaps himself across the forehead. “Sweet Celestia! I gotta go!” He kicks his feet wildly, trying to pull himself away from the bed. He reaches for his clothes, only to find himself receiving a formal introduction to the floor with a mouthful of dust. “Wargh. Pinkie?” He points in the general direction of where she tossed the key.

“I’ve got it.” Pinkie adjusts her gown and skips over to where the key lies. In just a few seconds, the handcuffs come loose, and Spike is able to stand up.

As the young dragon pulls his underwear on, he mutters words of urging under his breath. “Come on, come on, if you don’t meet her there, you’re officially the biggest jerk in the world…” His pants zipper might as well have become the lock of an impenetrable safe.

Pinkie Pie steps forward and zips up Spike’s pants, then grabs his shirt and throws it down over his head. To Spike’s wide-eyed bewilderment, she got it on perfectly. He decides not to ask any further questions as he grabs his hoodie and jacket. “Thanks for letting me use your dryer, by the way.”

“No problemo, friend-o.”

Spike runs for the window and opens it up. “Tell Mrs. Cake to cash a rain check on the orange juice. Something even sweeter takes priority.”

“Spike, wait!”

Spike turns around to ask Pinkie what’s up, but he doesn’t get the chance. His mouth is forced shut by hers as she gives him one last long kiss.

“I really like having slumber parties with you,” she says, her wide eyes beaming and her rosy cheeks an even deeper shade of red than usual.

As Spike sits up on the windowsill, the frigid temperatures of the early morning envelope his back. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest, as per usual. Even if it did, he would have a lot of warmth in his heart to counteract nature’s wrath. “Me too. Let’s do it again sometime.”

Spike salutes Pinkie Pie as she pushes on his chest, causing him to fall out the window. The bubbly pink mare watches wistfully as her satisfied sole partygoer flies off into the snow covered town.

Diamond Tiara’s arms are on par with the most powerful bonds that Apple Bloom has had the luxury to wear during her more interesting encounters, partially because Apple Bloom finds the sleeping model just too darn adorable to leave in bed alone. If it weren’t Hearth’s Warming Day, and she didn’t have a previous engagement, the young farmer would elect to spend all day in bed with her, along with the other sensual model whose absence from the bed is sorely felt. Apple Bloom’s back feels deathly cold without Silver Spoon’s smooth fur and plump breasts warming her up.

A good alternative would be a bit of Hearth’s Warming coffee. Apple Bloom manages to shake off the desire to cuddle Diamond Tiara long enough to sit up and get out of bed. “Dernit…” she hears Di gargle in her morning grogginess. “Whereyagoin, Hayseed?”

Apple Bloom holds out two fingers. “Uh, coffee, an’ then, back to the farm. Applejack’s gonna tan my hide if I’m not home for breakfast, and, uh… Other stuff.” She neglects to mention a favor she promised to fulfill on this particular day. Di didn’t need to know the details.

“Wha…?” Di scrapes at her hair, which has lost most of its curl. “Aw, you tease. Fine. Get outta here. Never wanna see you ‘gain…” She collapses face first into her pillow.

“Ya want some coffee too, ya big baby?” Bloom asks, pawing at Di’s flicking ear.

“Shut up. Yes.”

“Okay. Be right back.” Bloom kisses Di on the cheek. After stretching out her arms and legs, she heads to the kitchen.

Silver Spoon, as Bloom had suspected, is already awake. She’s sitting atop the center counter, munching down a bowl of granola as she listens to the radio, all the while sporting some evil looking black lingerie. She’s softly bobbing her head as one of Sweetie Belle’s more corny, lovey-dovey songs plays.

Apple Bloom is relieved to see that Silvy has already started brewing the coffee, so all she has to do is wait a minute or so before she can fully revitalize her body. She props her arms on the counter next to Silvy. “Howdy.”

“Mmm, good morning to you,” Silvy coos. She sets down her spoon and touches Bloom’s shoulder, walking her fingers up to the farmgirl’s thick neck. “Did I keep you nice and cozy last night?” She catches Bloom by surprise with a surprisingly sexy one-handed massage.

Bloom leans her head back and lets Silvy have her fun. “That ya did, though ya could work on the snorin’.”

“A lady does not snore.”

“Riiight.” Bloom shot a snide look up at Silvy. “And ya also wake up with your hair all combed while wearin’ perfect makeup an’ high heels. Just because ya think yer livin’ in a late night cable show don’t make it a fact.”

Silvy rolls her eyes and gets off the counter. “Sarcasm looks so attractive on you, Hayseed. Then again, you don’t wear makeup, so anything looks good by comparison.”

“Bite me.”

“Later,” Silvy quips, taking her bowl to the sink. As she turns on the faucet and rinses out her breakfast, she resumes bobbing her head and sings along with the radio.

“Tell it to my heart, tell me I'm the only one.
Is this really love or just a game?
Tell it to my heart.
I can feel my body rock every time you call my name...
The passion's so complete. It's never ending…”

Bloom is utterly bewildered. Not only does Silvy have a mildly impressive singing voice, she is also a filthy liar. “Ah thought ya said ya hated this sort a’ music.”

Silvy sticks her tongue out. “There are a lot of things you really haven’t known about me, dearest. Just be glad you figured out a few of those things last night.”

“Ooh, thanks for remindin’ me…” Apple Bloom takes notice of how utterly delicious Silver Spoon looks in her lingerie. Black looks good on her, accompanying her grey body and white mane quite well, and its ornate fringe helps the young model appear elegant and poised despite being half a layer of fabric away from being completely naked. “See, I was just about to ask ya somethin’.”

Silvy leads Bloom into an embrace from behind, cupping the farmgirl’s meaty arms and letting them wrap around her lithe body. Those muscular appendages squeeze and grope at Silvy’s breasts, causing her to gasp as the grogginess of morning is taken away from her.

Bloom whispers into her ear, “Now that ya had your taste of the apple, are ya up for a second?”

“Mmmra, it’s such a tempting fruit.” Silvy cups Bloom’s cheek, moving in for a kiss. Her lips part as she tries to force her tongue past Apple Bloom’s strong lips…

Ding! goes the coffee pot.

Bloom releases Silvy and grabs herself a mug from the upper shelf. “Sucks for you, then. Ah gotta go.” She goes to pour herself some coffee, blissfully ignorant of Silvy, who has a little saliva on her chin and a massive, unrequited blush on her cheeks. She looks hurt. Wounded, even.

Silvy stomps her hoof and clenches her fists. “You slut!”

“Ah’m sorry. Really. Somethin’s just come up, that’s all.” Bloom tries to make herself sound as sincere as possible, because she does regret that she’ll have to leave such pleasurable company behind after such an amazing night. She takes a drink from her mug and continues talking. “Besides, Ah gotta prioritize. Hearth’s Warmin’ Day is meant to be spent with family.”

“Sa-luuuut,” Silvy moans, laying her back across the counter.

“Okay, I’m confused,” says Diamond Tiara as she strolls into the kitchen in a pink bathrobe. “How is it that she’s a slut for wanting to do the responsible thing? Besides, you have to admire her fortitude. To anypony else, deciding between us and a bunch of hillbillies would be a Hobson’s Choice.”

Bloom notices that Di has a piece of paper in one hand, with a quill and ink bottle clutched in the other.

“Also, I just realized that I kinda need her gone anyway,” Di continues. “I have an apology letter to write to Daddy, and I won’t be able to focus with this thing walking around.” She waves her hand in Bloom’s general direction.

“Thing?” Bloom asks dejectedly.

“Well, more specifically, this thing.” As Di walks past, she pats Apple Bloom on her firm rump. “So, yeah, you and that thing better scurry off before I make sweet love to it, capiche?”

“Capiche.” In revenge for getting her bum smacked, Bloom taps Di on the back of the head. She considers doing the same for Silvy, but she retracts her hand upon realizing that she’d probably get off on a light slap.

As Bloom strolls into the living room to grab her clothes, she tries to remember the other thing she has to do. Her head is still in a funk from last night. Alcohol distorts her memory like a stained glass window of hot ass and smooth breasts, sprinkled with droplets of sweat and hot tub water.

She grabs her panties and jeans, sucking in her gut to put them on. “Okay, Ah know it ties into that other thing…” She snaps her fingers a few times, then throws on her shirt. “Pick up… somethin’. Somepony?” She grabs her stetson and tosses it onto her forehead.

As she buttons up her jacket, she racks her brain for whatever other task she could have been assigned. She is in utter disbelief that she could even forget to begin with…

She catches the sound of the radio. “I can feel my body rock every time you call my name!”

“Oh, horse apples!” Bloom shouts, sprinting back into the kitchen. Di has a biscuit in her hand, and Silvy is now on her stomach, playfully buttering a slice of bread. “Hey, what time is it?!”

Di happens to be leaning against the wall, in front of the only clock in the room. She stares at Bloom, taking a slow and arduous bite of her biscuit and chewing it slower than a cow would chew a clump of grass. “Oh, you’re still here?” she says with a smirk. “I’m sorry, I think Kronos is sleeping in this morning.”

“Celestia’s Tits, hon!” Bloom exclaims in disbelief. “I might have somepony waitin’ for me at the train station!”

“And she’ll be waiting until you grant the lady of the household another taste of your finest apple cider. Just a sample will do.” Di beckons to Bloom and taps her own lips. “Posthaste?”

Apple Bloom groans, although part of her does see this as a win-win situation, and she has to commend Diamond Tiara on her craftiness. This wouldn’t be the first time this has happened.

Bloom approaches Di and takes her by the shoulders, planting a savory kiss on her lips. Di extends the kiss by pressing into Bloom, running her hand through her locks, feeling her warm, muscular neck and arms. Just touching the thick body of this sensual farmgirl was bringing her back to full heat…

“I-It’s 7:43,” Di says, using every ounce of willpower she has to pull away from Bloom. Her blush is furious, and her panting has broken her composure. “...Yeah.”

Bloom sighs with relief, knowing she has enough time to reach the train station and get herself a snack. “Sorry I gotta go, but I can convince Applejack to let me come over tomorrow,” she suggests. “I’ll bring a smorgasbord, cook us up a nice brunch…”

“You’d better bring cider,” Silvy says, getting off the counter and swaying over to Bloom and Di. She wraps her arms around both of them. Bloom has difficulty making sense of this conglomerate act of affection, but she manages to get both of her arms around the two models sandwiching her.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll bring cider. In bottles. Silvy must have drank half the juice last night.”

“It only made you prettier, thunderthighs,” Silvy snips.

Di pokes Silvy on the muzzle. “Shut up, you know she’s perfect.”

It all becomes a little too much for Bloom to take. She worms her way out of the embrace and waves her arms about in a frenzy. “Whatever, y’all. Try to stay off of each other until I get back.” Bloom fixes her stetson, waves to Di and Silvy, and sprints towards the exit before she’s forced to do anything that would spoil such a sacred holiday.

“Part of me wants to respect her wishes, but part of me wants to disobey her just to see how she’d react,” Di says. She looks between the departing farmgirl and the ever-so-sexual Silver Spoon, who is licking a bit of butter off her finger.

“What?” Silvy asks.

Di sighs and starts to walk away. “Meet me on the bed in five.”

Spitfire is tossing and turning in her bed. Not because of any sort of bad nightmare. If anything, she had a good dream, but she couldn’t remember what even happened in it for the life of her. All she remembers is a dolphin and some choir about disrespectful court jesters.

No, she was tossing and turning for different reasons. While the heat of the night before hadn’t allowed her a second to think about it, she only now realizes that there are consequences to sleeping on a bed that hasn’t been thoroughly washed in months. She finds herself scratching her naked body often, and not in a pleasurable way.

Even if her bed was clean, she’d still be uncomfortable. Those are her posters on the wall. That is her lightning bolt shaped lamp. That is her wall of Wonderbolt medals. That is her ceiling, wall, and shag carpet floor. But she isn’t home. Home is where Big Mac is.

And he isn’t here.

Spitfire’s eyes shoot wide open as she realizes that the large thing she’s been hugging for the past hour hasn’t been her big lug. It’s just her body pillow, which kept her company on lonely nights after she moved to Ponyville. She had her stallion take over that role long ago.

“Aw, where’d you go?” Spitfire moans as she rises from the bed and rubs her eyes. As she gets off the mattress, she throws the body pillow to the ground. “Away with you.”

This isn’t the first time that something like this has happened, sans the body pillow. She knows Mac has responsibilities, and the farm is going to need him, especially after the chaotic snowfall of the night before. Spitfire can’t see through half of her bedroom window.

She holds herself for warmth until she’s able to find her favorite black turtleneck, brown cargos, and a scarf with the colors of fire. “You made this for my birthday,” she says to the photograph of Mac on the nightstand. “Figures that I’d wear it today, of all days.” She sticks her tongue out at the photo for good measure. “Jerk.”

She’s not really angry. In fact, she’s smiling. It had been weeks since her beloved had made love to her like that, and the fact that it happened on Hearth’s Warming Eve made it that much more intimate and romantic. That was his gift to her, and hers to him.

“Still, wouldn’t have killed you to leave a…” Spitfire stops her vocal thought when she leaves the bedroom and notices a used notebook out on the kitchen counter. “Oh.” Big Mac had written something in his extremely elaborate handwriting. How he manages to write so well with such mighty, godlike hands is a mystery to Spitfire.

Hey, Fire. Left for the farm. Need to take care of something important. Come on down for breakfast. Love you. ❤

“Even in your letters, you’re as blunt as an old club.” Spitfire wraps her scarf tight and heads for the door, smiling and stomping all the while. “Big Macintosh, you wonderful idiot. First I’m gonna slap you, then I’m gonna kiss you.”

Spike’s attention is on a roulette. He keeps glancing between groups of ponies greeting their friends and family, the clock, the train tracks, and the occasional passing train. He realizes how childish he’s acting, being so anxious for a certain train to come by, but he forgives himself for feeling this way. It’s not like he can help it. It’s just another reassuring sign that he’s hopelessly enamoured, in a good way. If only the train would arrive a little quicker...

His tension breaks a little when he sees Apple Bloom sprinting onto the platform, holding her stetson against the cold breeze. She slows down to take a breath, then looks up and sees Spike. He waves her over and pats the bench. “Hey, you! Have a seat.”

“Shoulda figured that ya’d be here,” Apple Bloom says, folding her arms and smirking. She takes up Spike’s offer and takes a seat next to him. “Enjoy yer Hearth’s Warmin’ Eve? Dinner go well, as usual?”

“Eh, those plans crashed and burned,” Spike replies. “Twilight had to go off and be Princess Twilight in Canterlot for a little while. Something about a new subspecies of pony or something, I dunno. Don’t take my word for it.”

“Subspecies? Sounds interestin’. Get Twilight to spill the beans when she gets back.” Apple Bloom raises a finger. “After ya do a proper dinner with her, kay?”

“I was already planning on that,” Spike says. “Dealing with political BS can make anypony hungry. Twilight is gonna have a big meal to look forward to when she gets home.”

“Good for ya, then. Hey, after her train gets here, ya wanna come to breakfast with me?”

Spike shrugs and points to the train tracks. “Sorry, Bloom. I have a date already.”

Bloom sighs and leans her head against Spike’s shoulder. She takes her stetson off and hangs it on Spike’s spines. “Aw, don’t act like ya haven’t gone nowhere with two ponies wrapped around yer arms. Come on, it could be fun.”

“Well, I’ll have to check with a certain somepony.” Spike, playing along with the pretty picture Apple Bloom painted, brings his arm around her shoulder and pulls her in closer, until her fur mingles with his scales. “But you know how chill she is, so your odds look pretty good.”

“Dandy,” Bloom says, taking her hat back. Her grip on Spike relaxes, turning a bit more intimate. “Mm, mind if Ah keep holdin’ ya? Yer so warm.”

“The perks of being me, babe. Nestle in tight.”

Spike and Apple Bloom form their own little shield against the elements. Bloom’s fingers interlock on Spike’s shoulder, and his wings cross around her. Aside from a few wandering eyes, along with the occasional flurry of snowflakes, nothing pierces their shield.

They don’t know how much time passes before one of them speaks, but it’s Apple Bloom that breaks the moment by opening her mouth. “Huh… Not bad. Is this how she feels? Y’know, when she’s with you?” she asks.

“I think so,” Spike replies. “Here’s another question: how long are we going to keep playing the pronoun game?”

Apple Bloom’s eyes widen. She unclasps her fingers and points to the train tracks. “Probably when that train stops.”

Spike’s beak is stricken with a huge, dorky smile. He tucks his wings back in and leaps away from the bench. He’s probably cheering, but he can’t hear himself over the train. He runs to keep up with it as it passes by, and fears the nonexistent possibility of it not coming to a stop.

“Stop bein’ so antsy, ya clod! She ain’t gettin’ off that thing any faster!”

Spike turns to Apple Bloom and retaliates. “Yeah, well, if you were in my place, you’d be doing the same th—” He doesn’t see the patch of ice he walks over. He slips and falls onto his side. “Agh!” he groans, clutching his shoulder.

“Yeah, can’t say I blame ya,” Apple Bloom says with a shrug. “You have the right to make an ass out of yerself.”

“He may be an ass, but he’s mine,” says a squeaky, chiming voice that stands out above the mutterings all the other exiting passengers. Standing over Spike, dressed in a form-fitting turtleneck and a long coat, was Sweetie Belle. “Hi,” she says to the ill-positioned dragon.

“Hey, babe…” Spike says, his voice all woozy. “Welp, at least nopony can say I haven’t fallen for you.”

“Wah-wah.” Sweetie kneels down and lifts Spike up by his shoulders. “Get up, you silly.”

Spike makes use of his wings to get back onto his feet, then turns to Sweetie Belle and wraps her up in a tight hug. He lifts her up into the air, only to have her weight threaten to bring him back down again.

“Whee! Aha!” Sweetie Belle kicks her legs and breaks free from Spike, touching back down. “Wow, you’re enthusiastic! I mean, I expected a warm welcome, but...”

Spike stuffs his hands into his pockets and tilts his head. “I just missed you… A lot.”

“Aww. And I missed your face.” Sweetie pinches Spike’s dorsal fins, causing him to squirm and laugh at the same time. “Speaking of faces, I really need to stuff mine. I haven’t had a real breakfast yet.”

“Seriously?” Apple Bloom asks. “Would have figured that they’d have at least six meal carts lined up for ya on this thing.”

“You’d think so, but… no. Two raised ring donuts aren’t gonna cut it for this superstar. I need to nosh something fierce. Is there any place that’s open?”

“Ha!” Apple Bloom scoffs, throwing her arm around Sweetie Belle’s back. “Mah ass. Any place that has to be open on a day like today is clearly not worth goin’ to. You and Spike are comin’ with me to the Apple Family Heath’s Warming Day Breakfast. Patent pendin’. I ain’t takin’ no for an answer.”

“I was gonna say yes,” says Sweetie Belle.

“Good. We’ll set up a second table. Trust me, Sweetie. You haven’t lived until you’ve had a brekky like this.” Apple Bloom casts her hand out. “Apple pancakes. Apple pancakes everywhere.”

Sweetie Belle nods, lips pursed with interest. “Sounds like my cup of tea. Is there tea?”

“There is tea.”

“I’m in. Spikey-Wikey?”

Spike has his arm around Sweetie Belle on her other side. He and Apple Bloom both lead her along the platform, weaving through the crowd. As they descend the steps and leave the train station, Apple Bloom speaks up again. “Oh, Spike, ya know how to play a guitar, right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Ah’ve got a thing for you to do. Oh, and uh, Ah know you two haven’t seen each other in a long time, but try to keep the hanky-panky to a minimum. Y’know how prudish Applejack can be…”

Rainbow Dash is forced to set her plate down. Her arm flexes, stretching out until her hand finds the edge of the counter. Her other arm finds its way around Applejack’s neck. The farmgirl’s hair is all in a tussle. Her face is thick with early morning grog. Her lips are stiff and chapped.

Why is she so damn hot?

Rainbow Dash keeps asking herself that as she’s pushed further against the counter by the beefy mare, eventually deciding to let it go. Applejack is smothering her in rough, musky kisses without any reservation, and she accepts it.

After a long minute of this, she figures, why not go a little further? Applejack is only in a red tanktop, after all, so it’s easy for her to slip her hands beneath it, brushing her thick coat, going past her gut and muscles and gasping in disbelief as she holds her all natural, country-grown breasts. For a second, she had feared she wouldn’t be allowed to, but there it is.

Applejack bites Rainbow on the neck. Much like the rest of Applejack, it’s well-meaning, but it’s anything but gentle. Rainbow loves it, a broken gasp escaping her. It being the morning, she can’t help but yawn, but she quickly falls back into moaning.

“Hey, Applejack…” Rainbow asks between the moans.

The farmgirl doesn’t reply. She has her hands gripping Rainbow’s waist, sliding into her jeans…

“AJ.”

“Shh…” Applejack whispers, silencing Rainbow with another kiss.

It would be easy enough to just let herself be ravished and let all of her doubts and caution just fall to the wayside, but Rainbow knows better than to let that happen. She may be reckless, but she knows to trust her instinct, both in the air and in social situations. She’s not sure if there’s anything wrong with this picture, and she wants to find out if AJ is on the same page as her.

Rainbow finally finds the willpower to gently push Applejack away. “AJ, uh…” If only the words would come to her. “AJ, are you my marefriend?”

Applejack looks back and forth, then shrugs. “Do you wanna be?”

Rainbow’s heart leaps into her throat so fast, she’s surprised she’s even able to speak. “Pretty much every fiber of my being says yes,” she says, her voice deafened out by the blood rushing to her head.

“Then what’s the problem?” Applejack asks with a smile. She goes in for another kiss, but Rainbow plants her hand on her muzzle.

“No problem, but…” Rainbow folds her arms. “We’ve been friends for way too damn long for this to be any sort of suppressed attraction coming out all at once. What’s your deal?”

“Ya’ve been readin’ psychology books, haven’tcha?”

“Shit, a little…”

“Well, then…” Applejack leans against the counter and takes Rainbow’s hand. “Take a wild guess at what Ah’m attracted to.”

The morning has a way of putting one’s mind in the gutter, and having over two-hundred pounds of thick, meaty, gorgeous mare groping her hand doesn’t help. “...An anthropomorphic apple?” Rainbow Dash stammers.

“Alright, Ah’ll cave. Ah love mahself an attentive, responsible, lovin’ family figure, and ya fit the bill. Even if ya didn’t have that, Ah just love hangin’ out with ya, not to mention, yer just drop dead sexy. But Ah knew Ah was fallin’ for ya when ya startin’ becomin’ one hell of an awesome surrogate parent.”

“Parent?” Rainbow Dash realizes what Applejack means. “Uh, Scoots is more like a sister, but...”

Applejack lets go of Rainbow Dash’s hand and moves to the dining table. She resumed setting out the plates. “Well, whatever ya wanna call it, ya got the gift. Last night just so happened to be the night Ah decided to make my move. Couldja get the silverware out?”

“Congratulations on taking advantage of a drunk chick,” Rainbow Dash snarks. She opens the drawers on the counter until she finds the utensils. “I guess I see your point, but the most I can handle right now is something fun and casual. I don’t want you expecting flowers every week or anything.”

“Ah’m okay with that.”

“This isn’t me being arrogant. I just love my life right now and getting in too deep would upset a lot of things. I also don’t wanna overburden you with more than you can handle. Working the farm and all…”

“Ah’m okay with that.”

“Then again, Scootaloo is getting a lot more independant… Should have realized that when she went and opened up her own stunt team. Anyway, I’ve gotten used to having company around, and it could be nice to—”

Rainbow turns around, suddenly getting a faceful of sexy orange horse. “Hey,” Applejack says. Once again, she kisses Rainbow, who is so captivated that she ends up dropping every piece of silverware in her hand.

When the kiss ends, Rainbow strokes Applejack’s tail and says, “A ton of things just started making sense.”

Just as she says that, both Soarin and Braeburn stroll into the kitchen, wearing a matching set of green robes. When they see Applejack and Rainbow Dash, they immediately let go of each other’s hands and blush. “So, uh,” Braeburn stutters. “I’ll… I’ll get the coffee started?”

Soarin raises his hand. “I’ll help with the pancakes.”

“You’d best,” says Applejack. “Flour’s in the left cupboard.”

As Braeburn gets a bag of beans out, and Soarin gathers up ingredients, the two keep sharing glances with each other, each one more intense and intimate than the last. Braeburn seems eager to get the coffee blender started so he can stand next to Soarin.

“You could cut the hormones in this room with a knife,” Rainbow mutters to Applejack.

“Says the girl who was just pantin’ like a corgi in heat.”

“Thanks for that image… Still, can’t deny I’m happy for these guys. Haven’t seen each other in ten years, they deserve to be head over heels like this.”

Applejack chuckles as Braeburn stumbles over a chair, trying to get to Soarin. He hands over two eggs, nearly dropping them as their hands touch.

Rainbow kisses Applejack on the cheek. “We’ll finish our little talk after breakfast.”

“You won’t have long to talk, sugar,” Applejack says with a wink.

Even though the weather is foul, making even the consideration of flying an ill-advised idea, Spitfire doesn’t care. Even as she flies at a brisk pace, the air still isn’t as frigid as it was the night before. At least, it seems that way to her. She doesn’t care how cold it is. Beneath her skin, she is as warm as she needs to be. She has been for a long time.

Sweet Apple Acres isn’t that far away. As the town buildings dwindle and the agriculture of Ponyville comes into view, Spitfire considers how she’s going to make her entrance. She remembers an old classic that she used back when she and Big Macintosh’s relationship first went into full swing, and they kept using every minute of free time to be alone. She would sneak into his room and wait on his bed with a six-pack of cider and some rather revealing lingerie. Given the weather, she will have to forgo the lingerie, but just being there will be good enough.

Spitfire gets sidetracked by the sound of a motor beneath her. She looks down and sees another pegasus, who seems to have foregone a flight path and instead chose to ride a motorcycle. This would be bizarre to Spitfire, but she knows that Scootaloo likes to keep her wings well-rested after one of her team’s stunt shows.

Just outside Sweet Apple Acres, Spitfire touches down beside Scootaloo, who parks her bike by a tree and kicks the stand down. She gets off and removes her helmet, revealing a messed up set of spiky purple hair and heavily lined eyes. She greets Spitfire with a salute and a casual “Sup, Cap?”

Spitfire snorts. “Seriously, why do you always call me that? You don’t work for me.”

“Yeah, but Rainbow Dash does. If you’re her captain, you’re my captain.” Scootaloo slaps a pair of sunglasses over her eyes. “Deal with it. So, I’m guessing you’re here for the free food?”

“You could say that. And what brings you here?”

Scootaloo starts strutting towards the farmhouse, walking with her usual amount of attitude. “Actually, speaking of Rainbow Dash... See, I would have been able to find a train home last night if the conductor hadn’t decided to pussy out!” Her sudden shouting echos across the entire expanse of the farm. “So, yeah, there goes my Hearth’s Warming Eve. But I’m gonna make it up to Rainbow Dash tenfold. I got her a new hoodie and a bitchin’ poster of my stunt team.”

“And how was Velocentaur’s holiday show?” Spitfire asks.

“It was off, on, up and down and all around the chaaaain. A couple investors had stopped on by and they’re gonna plug the shit out of our show next month. We could be seeing viewership in the freakin’ thousands!” Scootaloo stops and points to the sky. “What up?!”

Spitfire bumps Scootaloo on the shoulder. “See what happens when you take control of your life and make no apologies for doing what you love? That’s happiness, kiddo.”

“Oh, I’ve been feelin’ it for some time! But I really owe you for all of this.”

“Come again?”

“Aw, don’t tell me you don’t remember! See, I recall a certain birthday during my angsty years, shortly after Rainbow Dash let me move in with her.”

Spitfire holds up her hand. “Wait, why were you angsty if you had just moved in your idol?’

Scootaloo shrugs. “Because I was a teenager with no problems.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, Rainbow Dash pulled through and put together a pretty epic party. She didn’t even hire Pinkie, ‘cause she wanted to got the extra mile. Guess what my birthday present was?”

Spitfire can hazard a guess. “One of my motivational tapes?”

“One of your motivational tapes!” Scootaloo says with a snap of her fingers. “And let me tell ya, if you can keep a hold on that level of charisma, you’re gonna make one hell of a mom.”

Spitfire blushes furiously, though she isn’t offended in the slightest. She decides to not follow up on that lead, instead thinking back to her motivational tapes. “Wait, don’t I get down to my bikini in one of those?”

Now it’s Scootaloo’s turn to blush. “Yeah… Thanks for helping me figure a few things out. Let me tell ya, Cap, you initially struck me as the usual hot military broad, but I’ve realized that you’re pretty radical. Big Mac has been good for ya.”

“Tell me about it…” Spitfire holds her cheeks and sighs.

“Oh, I hate to cut this convo short, but...” Scootaloo skips off of the dirt trail and goes to one of the many apple trees on the path. She taps the tree. “Come on out!”

Spitfire pauses, looking at that particular apple tree. Something about it seems oddly familiar, but she’s not entirely sure why. She considers just letting the thought pass and continuing onward to the farmhouse, but then she sees Apple Bloom emerge from behind the tree.

“Sup, sister!” says the young farmgirl. “Ah know yer eager to get inside and greet my big bro in many different ways, but first, mah friends and Ah wanna show ya somethin’. Just stay right there, and go along with this.”

Eager as Spitfire is, she’s more than willing to wait a little longer. Apple Bloom always has something interesting to say or do, and it’d be rude not to enjoy this… whatever it is.

Sweetie Belle also comes out from behind the tree, standing next to Apple Bloom. Scootaloo joins them as well. Then, on the other side of the tree, from seemingly out of nowhere, comes the sound of strumming. Spike and Caramel are there, both holding acoustic guitars and lightly strumming a slow yet exciting song. Spitfire is pretty sure she recognizes this too, but like the apple tree, she’s not sure from where.

Sweetie Belle clears her throat and opens her mouth, as do Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. Then, bizarrely, they start singing.

“Iiiiit’s nooot… easy having yourself a good tiiiime!
Greasing up those bets and betters, watching out they don’t four-letter.
Fuck and kiss you both at the same tiiiiiime!
Smells like something I’d forgotten, curled up, died, and now it’s rotten…”

Spitfire remembers the song. The last time she had heard it, it was during her and Big Mac’s second date. They had gone to a sports bar to watch a hockey game with a few friends. By the time the game reached its halfway point, Spitfire had already drank herself into oblivion, and was dancing around like a moron singing a bastardized version of whatever song was playing on the speakers. This was that song.

It may not be most people’s definition of romantic, given how filthy and ambiguous the lyrics are, but given its association, it’s more than romantic enough for Spitfire.

“I’m not a gangster tonight, don’t wanna be a bad guy.
I’m just a loner, baby, and now you’ve gotten in my way…”

Spitfire finds herself tapping her foot as the music hits its stride. Even if Apple Bloom and Scootaloo aren’t the most refined singers in comparison to Sweetie Belle, they’re more than good enough.

“I can’t decide whether you should live or die.
Oh, you’ll probably go to heaven, please don’t hang your head and cry.
Don’t wonder why my heart feels dead inside, it’s dark and cold and petrified.
Lock the doors and close the blinds, we’re going for a riiide!”

A beefy finger taps Spitfire on the shoulder. She turns around and sees her Big Mac, who has switched out his casual attire for a fancy suit and overcoat. He’s quiet as ever, but there is definitely something more vocal about his appearance than usual. He seems to be breathing heavily, and his face is more red than usual. He’s nervous or excited about something. Perhaps both.

Spitfire looks down and sees why. In his hand, he’s holding a small black box. He opens it to reveal a gold ring, which boasts a lightning bolt crossed with an apple.

Epilogue: Eyes
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Cold Drinks and Warm Hearts

Epilogue: Eyes

“Good morning, Rumble…”

The stench of a sweat-logged pillow. My body plastered against an overly soft bed. The floor is littered with CDs and headphone cords. The bare fur of my hero brushing against my back, her breasts pressing into me. Her quiet breaths reek of sex and skin, and I can only smell them because her mouth is right next to my face.

I’m not used to my hair being all stringy, plastered in front of my face, but I kinda like it. My old slicked-back look was starting to wear out its welcome. I think I can pull off this heavy-bangs look. Gives me a young rockstar vibe.

Funny… I’ve never felt so good about myself as I do right now. They always say the day after is like a walk of shame, from the stranger’s bedroom to your home, but I don’t feel that way. I feel alive. I’ve never liked myself more than I do right now, and it’s for more than the obvious reasons.

“Baby, you awake?” Vinyl coos into my ear. It’s like I can taste the sugar on her lips. “Or did this beast wear you out a little too much? Hmm… Maybe she should send you on your way…”

That is not happening. I turn around and open my eyes. “Yo, I’m up.”

“Good. I don’t want to get rid of you just yet.” Vinyl peers down at me. Her hair is in worse condition than mine. She’s not wearing any makeup, revealing all of her slight wrinkles and blemishes.

Sweet Celestia, she is so hot.

I touch her. Her shoulder, specifically. The red flash in her eyes has become a tell for me, indicating when it’s okay for me to get a little more grabby. Her breasts still feel like clouds. I could squeeze and knead them for hours, if she allowed it. Though I’d probably get bored.

While I feel her up, she does the same for me. She starts off a little vanilla, touching my chest, then moving her hand up to stroke my bangs. Heh, so it does look good. She then bites my ear. My hand tenses up, my fingers spasming as I let go of her. I quickly grab ahold of her back, traveling down to grope her ass. She bites harder.

“Agh!” I call out. “That’s… Please, keep doing that…”

“Oh, I know you like it. I know you like this too… Then again, who doesn’t?” She keeps gnawing on my ear while she runs her hand over my body, only stopping when she reaches my crotch. I gasp without making a sound as her palm graces the underside of my helloooo…

The one time morning glory works in my favor. Vinyl grips me softly, tightening her grip as she slowly works the shaft, stoking my arousal. She kicks the blankets away, so her arm is left unburdened, allowing her to fondle me all she likes. I love watching her do this. The novelty still hasn’t worn off; the legendary DJ PON3 is touching my naked body.

“Kiss me,” she says.

Yes, ma’am. We meet halfway, her muzzle pretty much slamming into mine. We’re both suffering the weight of morning grogginess. Our lips are stiff and dry, severely impacting how pleasurable Vinyl’s kisses could be. She still feels amazing, don’t get me wrong, but maybe if we were a little more hydrated…

“Hey,” I say, tapping her arm. She takes that as a sign to back off, though she doesn’t stop stroking me. She sits up, her legs spread just enough for me to see her slit. I wonder how warm it is? ...Ergh, I can’t focus on that right now. “How about we get breakfast first?”

“I’m down with that.” Vinyl kisses me on the forehead and rolls out of bed, deliberately emphasizing her good bits for me. “You want me to make you another mocha?”

“I would love that.”

Vinyl stretches herself out, with her arms crossing above her head, her chest rising in time with her breaths. “Good. Join me in the kitchen when you’re ready. Don’t put any clothes on.” She steps over a few piles of clothes and slips out of the room, blowing me a kiss as she closes the door.

Yeah, I feel really good about my life right now.

So, what’s my plan for today? Ain’t that ever the question… I didn’t know where I was going last night, and I certainly don’t know what’s going down here. Will Vinyl and I bump one out and call it quits? Will we even have a chance to have sex again? Honestly, I enjoy just being near her, so even we don’t get to another orgasm, I think I’ll be fine.

Reality sets in a little. Inevitably, I am gonna have to leave this place. What are my parents gonna think about this? I’m sure they’ll be worried that I’m not in my own bed, or at any of my friends’ houses. I’m not a very good liar, so it’s not like I can make something up without them getting suspicious…

I stop worrying and sit up, wiping the concern off of my face with a smack. No. I’m not the quiet loner anymore. What would Vinyl do in my place? ...Nah, screw that. What do I want to do? That’s my choice to make.

It’s simple, really. Whatever happens to me, whenever I end up going home, I’ll just stand my ground as I say to Mom and Dad, “Sorry I’m late.” It might be a good idea to call them up, at least before Vinyl ends up distracting me with her… everything.

I better go ask her if I can use her phone. I stand up, having to actually remember not to pick up any clothes, and leave the bedroom. I’m back in the place where last night ensued. Hard to believe it actually happened… Kind of a shame that Caramel’s not here anymore. He had to bug off to catch a nap at his place, leaving me and Vinyl alone. That’s when things got bonkers.

I can hear Vinyl singing over the coffee machine in the kitchen. I head on in, trying to ignore how cold the tiled floor is against my bare hooves. There’s the mare of the hour, presenting a bountiful view of her tight ass and naked back. As well as a pair of… white wings. Kinda like bat wings…

“Uh, Vinyl?” I ask, pinching my arm. Nope, not dreaming. I have to stop assuming every weird thing that happens to me is a dream.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Vinyl turns around, seemingly ignorant of what I’ve just seen. She has half of a donut in her mouth. “Hm? Ya seem tense.”

“Well, uh…” I point at one of her wings. “Those… things?”

“Huh?” Vinyl looks to her side, her eyes widening as she realizes what I’m talking about. “Oh, shit. You drop your guard for one second and suddenly the glamour wears off. Welp, no shame in leaving them out now.”

“W-what? Glamour?” I’m holding my head. I hope I don’t get a migraine, it’s too early for all of this insanity. “W-why… o-on your back, are… wings?!”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m a succubus. Do you want marshmallows?” She presents the steaming mug of coffee to me.

I reach for the mug by instinct, but I retract my arms. “Yes. No. I-I don’t know. Succubus? Like… Monster that feeds on people by sleeping with them? I thought that—”

“Yeah, not what you usually think of, isn’t it?” Vinyl asks, setting the mug down and gesturing to her wings.

“I expected horns.”

Vinyl groans. “Ugh. You get one chick with a bad hairdo in your ranks and suddenly everypony expects all succubi to look like her. Who’re the real monsters? Well, technically, us, but you catch my meaning.”

“Us?” I shake my head. “There are more of you? I mean, I assumed so, but… Where have all of these succubi been? Why haven’t I seen them before?”

“Same reason nopony else has seen them. It’s call glamour, kid. Technically speaking, I never didn’t have these wings out. You just never saw them because of a passive spell that I keep on me. I guess it wore off, a little bit.”

“Hm, succubus…” I think back to last night, trying to think of any other weird happenings that can be tied to this revelation. “I guess that would explain the red eyes.”

“Huh?” Vinyl looks in the frosted window, looking at her reflection. Her eyes start glowing. “You can see that? Hm… Either I slacked off on keeping the spell going, or…” She tilts her head at me. “You are something special, kid.”

“Well, uh, I do want to become a spotter for the Wonderbolts.” I raise one of my eyelids with my fingers. “It takes some crazy good eyesight.”

“It’s more than that, Rumble…” Vinyl taps her chin and walks back and forth across the kitchen. “See, I have this effect on people. I’m proud to call myself a panophile, and I was quite the heartthrob before I became a succubus, but having control over peoples’ emotions has definitely bolstered my reputation.”

“You…” I need to process this. I take a seat at the dining table. “You can manipulate emotions.”

Vinyl shrugs. “Sorta. It mostly revolves around love and attraction. Bolstering one fella’s affection towards another fella. Helping somepony bring out some dormant feelings.”

“But… Does that mean…”

“You think I can create feelings that aren’t there? I can’t. Besides, that’d just be rude. Wouldn’t do it even if I could.” She places her hand on my shoulder, giving me a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry, Rumble. Everything you feel for me is genuine. More so than others. Hell, I couldn’t even touch your aura last night, no matter how hard I tried. Can you figure out why?”

I have to connect a few dots, as well as cope with how batshit crazy this all is. Okay… Vinyl is a succubus, and she hides her secret via some sort of ‘glamour’. I can see through this veil, somewhat. I can chalk that up to my eyesight, but all of this stuff about emotions and attraction… What does that have to do with me being able to see Vinyl for what she is? Unless…

If Vinyl were capable of bolstering my attraction to her, she easily could have done so last night, couldn’t she? No, she couldn’t have… I was already enamoured with her. Her music and performances spoke to me on another level. I already knew her, through and through, as a person and as my idol. She can’t mess with my aura because...

“Because I love you,” I say.

“And here I thought you were just being an adorable little fanboy.” Vinyl chuckles and goes to get the mug of coffee. “Wouldn’t be the first. But, I guess you’re the first one who really means it. You love me for who I am, not for an image that you’ve created of me. You see through the veil and know me through and through. A lesser stallion, like Caramel, would have fallen for my smokes and mirrors. And he has.”

I find myself chuckling too. “Sucker. Can’t really blame him.”

“And he is such a sweetheart. I love working with him almost as much I loved watching you blow him.”

Oh snap, that did happen last night! Talk about a rollercoaster ride.

Suddenly, I have another question. “So, does this mean the Lunar Guard are all...?"

"Going off on a tangent already? No, thestrals and succubi are different. I wasn't born a succubus, but those guards were all born thestrals."

“Oh.”

Vinyl touches my shoulder again as she passes me the mocha. “Look, I understand how this can rock your world. If it’s all a bit too much, I can take you back to bed, blank your short-term memory, and we can go back to having sex.” She brushes my bangs aside and touches my forehead. “Just say the word, and I’ll make it happen.”

“Hell no,” I say without hesitation, leaning my head away from her hand.

Vinyl looks shocked. “...Seriously?”

I cup my hands together, take a deep breath, and look inside of myself for the right words. “When I first started listening to your music, I figured that you would be somepony worth knowing. Every day, you continued to inspire me, giving me drive and purpose. I wanted to become somepony as inspiring as you. Somepony that a bunch of people can look up at and say, ‘Yeah, that’s what I wanna be.’ Thanks to you, I got my life on track. I’m going to work with Equestria’s greatest flyers.”

I grab Vinyl’s hand. She vocalizes her surprise, but she relaxes and goes along with it.

“Before last night, I had no idea I’d actually be able to talk to you, let alone spend a night with you. Ten minutes ago, I had no idea succubi even existed, let alone the fact that you are one, which, might I add, makes you even more attractive?”

“Oh, stop.” Vinyl pretends to be flattered.

“Ever since you came into my life, you’ve made me feel like I matter. That I’m somepony that can stand out in a crowd. The fact that you’re a succubus doesn’t change that. If anything, knowing that I’m good enough to see through your illusion, and be immune to your craft, is just another gift from you to me.”

Vinyl lays her free hand over mine. For the first time since I met her, she drops her attitude. It’s in the eyes. She’s suddenly lost her intense flame for something a little more sincere. “I can’t be your girlfriend,” she states plainly.

“I know,” I reply. “You’re a free spirit. I can’t ask you to tie yourself down. Then… you wouldn’t be the mare I love.”

Her eyes widen, her irises turning red again. The glow is far more intense than it ever was last night. She seems as though she’s in a trance. She holds my hands tightly, pulling me out of my chair. I go along with this, only half-expecting what’s going to happen next.

Vinyl takes me into the living room, letting go of me in front of the couch. She sits down and pats herself on the knee, looking up at me with a wanting gaze.

I understand well enough. I turn around and sit on her lap. It’s not as awkward as it could be, seeing as she’s quite a bit taller than me. Any awkwardness quickly fades away as I acclimatize to her naked body. Heh… What with all of this heart to heart, I had nearly forgotten that we’re both completely bare.

Vinyl bites my ear again, and it’s just as sweet as it was before. Maybe a little more so, as her arms join around my midsection and hold me close to her. She wasn’t this tender last night… What did I do? What did I say?

“Stay with me today,” she whispers, with just a hint of desperation. She reaches down, groping my cock again. I’m quickly coming back to full arousal, my erection getting thicker by the second. She doesn’t hold back, pumping me aggressively.

“A-all day?”

She bites on my ear even harder before whispering in my ear. “Stay with me all damn day.”

She keeps stroking me. I’m helpless against her affections, and I’m okay with that. I want to surrender to her. Let her bring me to an orgasm. I want to cum by her standards. She is the master of romance, after all.

Her wings are just as beautiful as the rest of her. Now that the initial shock has worn off, I’ve come to realize that without those demonic appendages, there would just be something missing. Somehow, I can’t imagine her without them.

My loins are burning. I don’t know why I’m so eager to cum. Maybe it’s what Vinyl does to me. Not with my aura, whatever that is, but with my heart. I wish I could understand the world through a succubus’ eyes. I want to know more about Vinyl. I want to see what she sees.

“Rumble… Look into my eyes.”

“Huh?” I turn to her, expecting her irises to be glowing. They are, but something’s different. The red glow seems to be pulsating, emitting beyond the expanse of her eyes. “What are you—”

Vinyl removes her hand from my cock. She grabs my sides and moves me off of her lap, pinning me to the couch. She looms over me with a strange, almost inequine stare. “Don’t stop looking.”

I can’t move. She has me locked, just as she always has. I’m not scared. I’m definitely curious as to what she’s doing, but I trust her enough to not be scared.

As Vinyl rides me, I keep looking at her… No, it’s like I’m looking into her, and in doing so, something is overcoming me. I feel my insides changing. Shifting. Not in a painful way. It’s not even uncomfortable. It’s just... different.

My peripheral vision is filled with color. Not just from the decorations of the living room. I see pink, magenta, blue, yellow… So many aura filling my vision, pulling apart and joining together. At the center of all of it is Vinyl, who continues to cast her spell on me. All the while, her hips thrust, rising and falling along me, bringing me to my peak.

“V-Vinyl…”

She breaks the connection. Her eyes dart away as she falls onto me, her head nestling against mine, our hair and cheeks rubbing against each other. I thrust upward, haphazardly, her pelvis slamming into mine. I hadn’t even realized I was moaning.

“Don’t stop, Rumble. Don’t stop.”

I don’t know what’s happening, but I can only describe it as the best orgasm of my life.

Vinyl cries out as I cum into her. The colors in my vision burst, like explosions of the spectrum filling my vision, temporarily blinding me. When the light fades, Vinyl and I are plastered to each other, our limbs intertwined, our hands touching each other everywhere we can.

We sit up, our lips pressed together in a tender kiss. I embrace Vinyl, looking past her, seeing my reflection in the glass of the music player.

I look good with red eyes.

Happy Hearth's Warming to me.

You're not drunk, I'm drunk! (Rainbow Dash and Applejack)
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Cold Drinks and Warm Hearts

You're not drunk, I'm drunk! (Rainbow Dash and Applejack)

And the drink falls onto the table.

“Boom! That’s three in a row!” I shove the glass away for it to join its empty brethren at the edge of the table, then kick back, putting my legs up and resting my head on the booth seat. This thing is pretty dang comfortable for a bar. Don’t beat a cloud bed, though.

“Y’know yer supposed t’ keep yer feet off, don’tcha Rainbow?” There’s the deadbeat forever Applejack talking to me from across the table. She doesn’t look impressed with how much I can swallow. What a bummer. She doesn’t seem to understand the meaning of letting loose. Makes me wonder why she even came here in the first place.

So it’s even more annoying when she actually pushes my legs off so I’m supposed to sit normally like any other loser. I roll my eyes at her ignorance, then nod to her one half full glass of hot apple cider. She shrugs and takes a small sip. “Ah jus’ don’t wanna see ya make a fool outta yourself.”

“Thank you for your concern, Nick Worry, but I can hold my alcohol just…” Just… Uh, lost my train of thought. I look to the wood ceiling, which is looking a little bit wavier than it did a few minutes ago. I tap myself on the head and focus on whatever it is Applejack is saying.

“...with tendin’ to the fields, tryin’ to keep the snow from eatin’ away at the crops, Ah’m a little on edge.” She smiles and takes another swig, a definite improvement over a sip.

“More than a little, AJ.”

“Okay, a lot.” Another drink. That’s more like it. Her smile is coming back full force. That’s the Applejack I know. “Okay, so if you promise not to make a complete ass of yourself, I’ll let the party side of me out.”

I look at her with bewilderment. “Seriously? Since when do I—”

She cocks her brow at me. “Remember Snowflake?”

“Yeah, that hurt…”

“And the bag of bits with the mayonnaise—”

“Ugh, that poor cat—”

“We can’t show our faces around the bowling alley again!”

“I told the waitress I was sorry!” I sigh. Speaking of waitresses, I raise my arm up and signal for another drink. In a manner of moments I will have my fourth, and I’ve officially decided, last glass of cider for the evening. “Yeah, you’ve made your point. One more drink and I’m done.” Almost as if on queue, that drink lands right next to me. I take a greedy gulp of the stuff and let it hit the table. I let out an epic belch.

Props to Applejack for having enough of a sense of humor to chuckle. “Nice one.”

“In Prance that’s a compliment to whoever made the food.” I stir the cider a little, then rethink my words. “Uh, in this case, drink.”

She props one arm up on the top of her booth, smirking as if she were the one to make the cider. Wait… “Thanks.”

I slap myself lightly on the forehead. “I freakin’ knew it! This stuff tasted real familiar.”

Applejack’s smirk just keeps growing. I can tell she’s about to go into one of her sales pitches. “Yeah, Granny Smith came up with a way to keep sellin’ cider durin’ winter. Anythin’ not worth sellin’ ‘round cider season gets put in the cellar to ferment. We bust that stuff out when the weather starts gettin’ cold, heat it up and serve it in mugs ‘round town.”

“That’s… actually really awesome. And hey, thanks for leaving math out of it.” Now with a new appreciation for the cider of Sweet Apple Acres, I continue to drain my glass. However, I take care to swish it about in my mouth to take in the flavor properly. I gotta show Applejack I care. About the cider. Ahem.

“Not much for mathematics mahself, Rainbow. So, yer welcome.” She says that with a twinkle of southern hospitality.

I try to change the conversation to dodge around the fact that I’m looking at the unbuttoned portion of her plaid blouse. The first topic I think of is flying, but she doesn’t need to hear me brag. My mind keeps going back to Sweet Apple Acres anyway. Maybe I can steer the conversation on a slight detour. “Is that how you can afford so many farmhands these days?”

“Yep, and they’re a real help. We’ve actually gotten to expand our field for the first time in over a decade, thanks to that fact.” AJ starts stroking her chin. “Though, some of them look a li’l too happy out there.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

She shrugs it off and takes another sip of her own glass. “Nah. They just start actin’ all fuzzy when Apple Bloom and I get to work on our daily chores.”

It’s kinda an open secret why exactly that happens. In fact, everypony who knows Apple Bloom knows. Except AJ. She’s oblivious as all get-out to what her little sister does with the farmhands when she’s not looking. But I’m not about to intrude on Bloom’s fun. I know how white knight AJ goes whenever Bloom does so much as curse in her presence.

AJ, in my honest, awesome opinion, needs to take a few hints from Big Macintosh. That lug pretty much defines the word chill. Like, in a dictionary, a picture of his rugged mug would be right there next to the word.

And speak of Chrysalis, there he is now. Evidently he’s packed on enough fur to survive the frigid weather without wearing at least three layers. He’s just wearing a plain black shirt. He’s strutting into the bar with two barrels of cider over each arm.

“Last load,” he says. Dude of few words, as per usual. He drops them down behind the counter where the bartender stands.

And then there’s a flurry of pink wearing a blue vest over a red striped sweater and an orange miniskirt. Pinkie Pie, wearing clothes that looks like an ADHD kindergartner got access to Rarity’s boutique, cartwheels across the counter, grabbing a tap in mid-spin. She defies gravity by leaping into the air and slamming the tap into one of the barrels. Then she skips over to Big Mac and gives him a hug. Well, more like a glomp.

“Thank you thank you thank you! This batch of cider made this the best Hearth’s Warming Eve party ever!” She spins in a circle, then dizzily falls back into a booth where Apple Bloom, of all ponies, is sitting. “Hiya, Bloom! Enjoying the drinks?”

Apple Bloom unhumorously takes a drink of something that isn’t cider. Ah, it’s Sir Cilantro. That drink sucks. I’m more of a Nymph fan myself.

Pinkie doesn't wait for a response from Apple Bloom to roll away in a somersault and hop to her feet. How she manages to pull all that off and not run out of breath is a complete mystery that I'm more comfortable not figuring out.

That's enough sight-seeing, at least beyond the farmgirl in front of me.

"So Dash," she says, when my attention is back on the booth. "How's yer schedule treatin' ya? Ah know you've been workin' hard ta get into the Wonderbolts, yet you've still had time ta manage the weather team." She chuckles, scratching her neck before knocking back an appreciative swig of her cider. "Ah don't know how ya do it. Did ya have ta drop your naps completely?"

Ah, now there is a conversation I can carry without any awkward silences. "Actually, I managed to merge both nap time and my afternoon shifts." And here comes the part where she asks how that is even possible.

"Aren't yer afternoon shifts s'posed ta take the whole afternoon? What d'ya do, sleep till th' last minute and then zip about like a mare with a bee in her bonnet?"

"Well, yeah, but with a lot less similes." Setting my glass down and folding my arms, I give AJ a cocky smile, one that can show anypony that I'm the boss. "What, you need to know when and how long you can watch me? Wouldn't be the first."

She smiles too, and I feel mine fall a bit. What does she have to make her so smug? "Well, Ah already know how long Ah can watch ya, Rainbow Dash, Ah've been watchin' ya sleep in mah trees since ya first came to Ponyville!"

Not gonna lie, that's pretty damn romantic.

“Ain’t it? And y’all just say the cutest things when yer snoarin’.”

...Did I say that out loud?

"Eeyup," Big Mac says as he walks past our booth.

I slam my palm into the table and turn to the big guy as he swaggers away. "Well, don't you just have perfect timing!" He doesn't pay attention to me, instead sitting at a barstool at the counter next to Spitfire. I turn back to AJ, who looks like she's stifling her laughter with a metaphorical cork. "Sorry about that... it's the cider, I..." Wait a moment.

My gaze snaps back to Big Mac. Yep, just as I thought, he's sitting right next to Spitfire, smiling away and sharing a guffaw with her.

Spitfire.

Big Mac. And...

Excuse me while I pick my jaw up from the floor.

My hearing goes mute for a second as I grind my teeth together. I want to turn away out of sheer rage and jealousy but I keep my eyes glued on them just to make sure I'm looking at something real. Oh, there he goes. Big Mac just touched her shoulder. And I bet he hasn't said a word other than "Eeyup," or "Nope," yet he’s already laying on the smoulder something ridiculous.

"That... that... GUY!" I point in Big Mac's general direction. I don't care if he hears me at this point. "J'accuse! I call shenanigans!" I wheel back around to AJ. I expect her to be just as shocked as I am, but she looks just as laid back as ever. Laid back over the fact that her freakin' big bro is schmoozing up the freakin' captain of the freakin' Wonderbolts!

"So ya finally noticed, Rainbow Dash?" I hate that smug smile. Every time I fumble, she slips into it like the sexiest lingerie from Rarity's boutique, I... erm...

"Uh, y-yeah, so?" I take another drink from my mug, regretting that it it’s so close to empty. I had promised only one more, but the burning in my cheeks tells me I may need to break that promise. To handle the anger. That’s all it is. I mean... Spitfire! What's up with that?!

"She's been hangin' out 'round our house fer a few months now, checkin' up on yer progress from a distance. She an' Big Mac hit it off pretty well, not that Ah'd know how, but they seem to be real friendly towards one another." AJ chortled, that infuriatingly cute smile levelled at me with half-lidded eyes. "What's it to ya, sugarcube?"

I turn to the side and act like I'm talking to somepony who isn't there. I do my best to mimic AJ's country accent. "Why howdy there, RD! Just thought Ah'd mention that the mare you admire and strive to equal is jus' a five minute flight from your house! Oh well, you'll jus' hear about it in casual conversation." I drop that accent and point to AJ, followed by a round of sarcastic applause. "Element of Honesty, everypony!"

"Ah never was dishonest, Dash, y'all just never asked." That smug smile is still planted firmly on her face, like a flower’s taken root there. Wonder how she’ll feel if I just reach over and defloweremerrglyerg... Dammit.

I knock back the rest of my drink. My face is pretty much on fire. "Well!" I say a little too loudly. "I'm all outta drink, and I said I wasn't gonna have any more. Looks like I should just make my way outta here!"

"Y'know," AJ starts, taking yet another sip of her drink. In my rage, I hadn’t noticed that she’s down to the drops. "Why don't we have just one more t'gether?” She raises her arm up. “Hey, Chardonnay! Let's get another round over here!"

The waitress nods and starts pouring another round of cider. I glower at Applejack for a second, before my attention is torn away by somepony shouting my name. "Daaaashhiiiiie~!" I look up, only to be bounced out of my seat and right into Pinkie's... erm...

"Grrbmlerf- Pinkie!" I yell, face burning as Applejack hoots at me.

I'm all for a glomp, but this is just ridiculous. I fumble around with my arms and push Pinkie away, only to look down and realize I'm grabbing handfuls of, well... marshmallow. I quickly withdraw my hands and stuff them both in my pockets. The pink party pony doesn't look offended, though. In fact, she's just giggling like always. "Sorry~! just wanted to say that I was leaving early!" She looks at me, her smile widening as my face falls a bit in surprise, before my brow furrows.

"Pinkie, wha..? Why're you leaving early? You threw this party!" I point at her semi-accusingly, definitely feeling confused. What makes her so eager to up and ditch? We've only been here at most an hour...

"Yup yup! I threw it over here, like throwing a shoe, but I've got something else I need to do over there! Ah! Ah! Ah! Noooo questions! I can't tell anypony, or donkey, or drake, or thing! Not until it's time!" She shivers as if her back was being tickled, before fluttering her left eye like a flag in the wind. "Ooh, I gotta go now, bye~!"

She hops over the booth, dropping some bits on the waitress' tray. Without even stopping, she zips out the door, leaving me flabbergasted, even as another cider is set in front of me.

"Welp, there goes the life of the party," says AJ. She takes her new mug and takes a very large chug. "Soon as Pinkie leaves, somepony else is gonna follow until the place is deader than a dead doornail."

I follow the farmgirl's example. "Eh. Not exactly her most exciting party anyway." Aside from the part where I got glomped. "Still, in all honesty, and yes, I realize the irony of saying that, I'm having a good time."

Applejack's smugness is gone now, replaced with a much more warm and endearing smile. She looks at me with half-lidded eyes. "Me too, Rainbow. Ah tell ya, ever since Bloom hit her teenage years, she spends all day out of the house. And with Big Mac bein', heh, Big Mac, I don't have much a' anypony to talk to outside of social gatherin's." She looks a little too happy to be saying something so depressing.

I rap my fingers along the table, trying to think of a way to cheer her up. As I do, my sight goes over to a booth far across the way, where I see Braeburn chilling out and talking enthusiastically to somepony else. Can't quite see who from behind Applejack's seat. "Well, at least your cousin is in town for the Hearth's Warming. You two are tight, right?"

"Eh, 'bout as tight as cousins can be, really. Not nearly as tight as Babs an' Bloom, though. Those two mix like a Smith an' Caramel, they go so well t'gether. 'Bloom's headin' to the Big Orange soon ta hang out with Babs an' her family for a bit. Maybe see if she can put her talents ta work up there at all."

"What is 'Bloom's talent, anyways?" I ask. I was at a Wonderbolt training drill when she'd had her cutecinera, and the thought to ask slipped my mind.

"Architecture and carpentry. Her cutie mark is a hammer over an apple."

"Huh," I say at length. "I haven't really had any reason to look at her flank, and she hasn't started wearing her mark on any of her clothes. Why not? You wear yours on your jeans' back pocket, I wear my necklace,” I show off the chain wrapped around my neck, with my famous rainbow bolt, “and Rarity wears hers on her dresses. Why doesn't Bloom wear hers?"

"It might have ta do with Scootaloo," Applejack says as she takes another drink.

“Ah.” Yeah, I'm just as surprised as anypony else. The squirt’s already getting into quite a few extreme sports competitions, and has the medals and trophies to prove her worth. One would think she'd have gotten her mark already.

Applejack frowns. "Ah think Bloom doesn't wear hers to show that she's still supportin’ Scoots. Sweetie wears unmarked clothes when she’s not on tour, too."

I feel a bit of pride swell in my heart. "Well damn... Those three really are best friends forever, huh?"

"Heh, yeah. No matter what, they'll always be the CMC, huh?" We both raise our glasses, knock 'em back, and slam them down. "Room for another, Dash?"

"You know it!"

Before I can pause to start staring at Applejack again in all of her kind yet cocky beauty, there's another glass of sweet warm cider put in front of me. My oh my, is it a beautiful sight. And the cider looks pretty damn enticing too.

"Hey, Rainbow." I look up to the farmgirl as she gives me another half-lidded stare. She looks incredibly huggable all of a sudden, especially with her chin resting on her hands. Her lips curl into an even bigger smile. "We both like to sate our competitive sides, right?"

"Hell yeah," I say with a slight slur. "What, you wanna compete me for best drinker? I'm already three ahead of you."

I'm about to grab my latest glass, but an orange hand stops me, holding my own and running fingers over my knuckles. Jeez... her palms are really rough... Of course they are, she's a working mare. But they feel nice. These hands have experience... "Wait, before we get all reckless and roughin', we have to agree on somethin'."

I laugh, but for all intents and purposes I have no idea why. "What? We sealing it with a kiss?"

The orange mare's smile becomes sly and wicked. "Well, if ya want to, it's fine with me."

"You're evil," I mutter as she starts laughing too.

"No matter who wins, Ah'm payin' for the tab. And one other thing..."

"Yeah, what?"

Applejack leans over and taps me on the muzzle. "You'll be in no condition to fly home, so yer comin' back to Sweet Apple Acres with me."

Stuff like this is exactly how my nights go from idle chit-chat with people I know or don't know and become something genuinely fun and interesting. I'm not saying I'm a heavy drinker, nor do I advocate doing this regularly (Especially since I have a little sister to look after these days), but hey, I've got nothing better to do this Hearth's Warming Eve. Let's go bonkers.

Applejack and I finish this round simultaneously, and announce that fact with a synchronized belch. Unfortunately for me, hers is far louder and lengthier. So she has me beat in that regard, but that's not what this competition is about. She's already well down on her second by the time I manage to get the glass up to my lips. My grip is betraying me.

The room is spinning like a basket of fruit on a windmill, but I'm still ahead by two tankards. Or is it three? Applejack's got a cute as all heck dopey smile on her face, as if she'd just won the Mulitzer Prize for the most Upstanding Mare in Equestria.

Down goes my next serving, but Applejack has already caught up to me... If I didn't know any better, I'd say she tipped the waitress to sabotage me... Serves me right for what I did at the Iron Pony competition. I mean, it was years ago, but, agh… Down the hatch again!

Applejack's expression becomesss... somethin'. Her face is jussa jumble a' eyes and freckleses addis point. But I’s ain’t loosin’ dis ‘un! Gotsta reach mah fingers ‘round dat glassa guud stuv… Damn ya, hand, wahrk wis me… I can’t move mah fingers right. Heh… Dat’s funny. Dunno why, is just… Heheh.

Mah head hisdah taybull. But Ah’m so damn indisdrugdable Accan’t feela damn thin’. I laugh out lahowd for sumeffin’ reezin. But das mebee waz a bad ahdea. Mah stummik ain’t likin’ meh right nahow. Issa might lose mah lunch… and dinna.

"Alright, Rainbow." Ay Jay swims, er, stands down- I mean, up, ouwwa her seat and reaches fa me. "Contest over. Yer drunk."

"Y-you're naht drunk, Awm drunk!" I point a’ her. All sevena her… They all real seckzy.

She sighs, and it echoes 'cross mah field of vision, er, hearin’. I can’t even tell where she izzat this point. She might be beaand me, or next ta me.

“Shoulda known this would be a bad idea…”

"Yawr a bahd ideah.”

Sudd'ly, I'm flyin', but I'nt really no when, but it's still softs... mmm.... Lookn’ up… Therez a pretty face. Applejacks‘s lookin’ at me. She ain’t ‘shamed, ‘fanyithin’, she jus’ thinks Ah look cute. Sheeza smilin’, lookin’ so con… con… content. She putzon ‘er hat and gitzer fur coat. She lookin’ so badass cowgirl in dat… She has her arms wrapped around my back ‘n sheez holdin’ me, and it feels… guhd. Like I’m being huggled by a soft... brick wall.

“One way trip to Sweet Apple Acres, comin’ right up.”

Ay Jay opahns the door, nah, she kickzit op’n... an’ its gettin’ reeeeeal cold. Stoopid snow… I oughta puncha windigo. Sheya’s reel stron’ ta hold meh like dis. Sheesa so strong. Ain’t ev’nabit drunk. Mebeh ‘lil tipzy. Sheeza swayin’ a bit.

‘Sall garbleled ta mee, but ah canzeear peepulz sing’n Harf’s Warmin’ songzin da streets. Deyr so gud at dat… ‘Sareal pritty Hart’s Warmen’s Eve. Ahl the culuhful decorashins, all da red ‘n’ white ‘n green. Agh, and da street lahts makin’ da snow so pritty. “I taekit back, snow! Yoozis beautifahl.” ‘Sstill cold, doh… I git a lilbit clozer ta Ay Jay… She so wahrm, mmm. I reechup and wrap mah armzrounder neck’n squeeze… “Yoozis bootiful too.”

She’za laughin’, an’ she bringz meah li’l bit closada her. Ahz can smeller hair… Smellin’ like straw’n appulz. Acourse she smellz lahk appulz. Ah stickout mah tung an’ licky ‘er ear. Even ‘er fer tastes nahce, an’ her gigglezes so aduhrable. I can’t ‘elp it. Ah bites down ahner ‘ear.

She ain’t complainin’, sos I keeps nippin’. “Somepony’s feelin’ a little playful,” she sez.

“Yoozis so awzum, Ay Jay…” I sez back. I nipper ‘gain, makin’ her giggle summore. “You carryin’ meh home in yer big strahng arms. Yoozis mah knight’n shin’ armor.”

“Ah know. Better than the actual Shinin’ Armor, huh?”

“Thas wha Ah juss said.”

Da muzik’s goin’ ‘way now… Ah cain see snow covehd trees an’ large open feeld. “Ey…” I pat Ay Jay on da back. “Werewe goin’?”

“Ah already told you,” she sez all patientlike, “we’re going to the Acres.”

Ah yeh… dasrite. “Ah fergot.” I nezzle mah head in da naepa her neck. ‘Sso warm an’ snuggly. “Yer so awezum. I luz ya so bad.”

I know she’da stroke ma cheek if she wernt carrin me. She juss nuzzlez meh ins’ed, n’ holds meh closa taher. “Yeah, love ya too…”

Ah git a handfulla ‘er hairs n’ brushem wid mah fingerses. Dudn’t jus’ smell like straw, feelzis liekit, too. ‘Er grip curls ‘round mah ass. Nawt ‘tirely sher if sheezes meanin’ tah do dat… Feels nahs doh… Sweet Celemestia, I’m real tires… ‘N Ay Jayz so werm I thinks I’zis gun’ use her asa blanket er somethin’... Restin’ mah cheek ‘genst da furra her coat, I’s just gonna close mah eyes for a mint...

"Ki-ow!" I fall from da dream, mah heads waken me's awake. I groan around, lookseein', but not where... Wait, where wases I? Mmm… Ah things I wuz in a bar. Or wuz I? Nah, I was flyin’... Ans’ I remembah somepony stron’ carryin’ me away…

Izis fumblin' underneath dis blanket, an' I can feelin' cushuns benees meh. I kick an' thrash until dis damn thing comes offa me. An' now I'm lookin' at the ceilin' a' Applejack's farmhouse. I look down an' see 'er wearin' somethin'... Very unorthadox. A'least for her. She got this... gorgeous purple silk robe patterned with apple conste... constellations. And she's all bundled up 'neath a smaller blanket a' her own, knees 'gainst her chest. She's looking at me, with a smile that blurs the line between smug and dopey.

"Howdy," is all she says.

"Howdy yourself— Ow." Just the slightest word makes my head tremble and my stomach turn. This is nothing more or less than a hangover.

Applejack seems to find that pathetically amusing as she brushes a stray lock of straw mane out of her eyes. "Yeah, that there is the side effect of Sweet Apple Acres cider. It only gets stronger the longer it ferments."

I raise my hand up to tell her that’s enough. “I’ll thank you… not to yell.” Everything she says makes perfect sense but that doesn’t change the fact that every syllable sounds like a fire alarm right next to my ear. I bring my other hand there and give it a squeeze. Not entirely sure why, but anything helps. “We’ll stick to athletic competitions, mmkay?”

“That’d work out just nicely. But can Ah still carry ya into the sunset?”

“It was, like, ten thirty when we left the bar.”

AJ raises her pointer finger. “Ten forty-five. An’ it’s, uh,” she glances over her shoulder to one of those old grandfather clocks. Thank Celestia the ticking is quiet. “Yep, it’s twelve now.”

“Wonderful.” Clutching my head, I sit up a little bit more and look past the G-clock and out the window. For the most part, it’s pitch black, but the light of the house is enough to show that there’s snow coming down in buckets. “Geez, look at that.”

“Wha?” AJ turns around and quickly gets a look at the snow as well. “Oh. That’s… huh. Guess Apple Bloom and I’ll have some shovelin’ to do tomorrow. At least, assumin’ she gets home in time for Hearth’s Warmin’ breakfast.” The powder is starting to pile up on the window. In a few hours, hell, I doubt we’ll be able to see outside. That’s going to be murder on the plantation… And my house! Geez, that’ll be a mess to clean up.

But I’ll worry about that later. My head is hurty. “I’ll help out if this blows over…” I say that as I feel my temples.

“Oh!” AJ looks like she just remembered something important. She reaches behind her to an oak banister and grabs a mug. “This should take care a’ some a’ the pain.”

“Gimmee.” I pretty much snatch the mug from her hands, then look into it. “Ah, coffee.”

“I remember how ya like it, Rainbow. Two creams, two sugars. But no caffeine this time. It’s too late for that sorta thing.”

I’m already drinking it. Thank Luna for Applejack’s care and attention. I can already feel the sweet cream running down my throat and easing the dry after-effect of the alcohol. It doesn’t hurt to swallow anymore. Yay. I think I’ll tell Pinkie Pie to have her next holiday party in a coffee shop. Nothing bad ever happens there.

A good half of the mug is drained by the time I pull myself away. I can’t help, it’s so damn good. But it probably helps that it was made with the tender care of the coolest farmgirl in Ponyville. Eh, that’s pushing it. I’m gonna call her the coolest farmgirl in Equestria.

It only takes another chug of the mug (Huh. Sounds like something Pinkie Pie would say) to empty the cup, aside from some swirly bits on the bottom. I set the mug down behind me on the lamp stand. It’s only after that when I realize my body is really freakin’ cold, and the coffee, warm and sweet as it was, hasn’t helped much. I rub my shoulders and shiver. “Jeez… Should have talked to the higher-ups at the weather factory and told them to take it easy.” That’s when I notice my hoodie and leather jacket hanging up by the front door right next to AJ’s coat. I look down and see I’m only down to my sports bra and jeans. Oh, and my rainbow bolt necklace. “Uh, AJ, buddy…” I leer at her quizzically. “Did you undress me?”

She’s looking away from me at no particular object, sipping from a mug of her own.

Welp, there’s a question that’s gonna go unanswered. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m still cold. I wrap the blanket around my neck and nestle in as deep as I can without suffocating myself. This is the best kind of blanket; it’s fluffy and squeezable, and quite large. It’s a mammoth compared to AJ’s thin sheets. But then again, she’s so buff that she probably has her own heat. And she’s more used to sticking around in a cold place than I am; if it’s ever chilly at my place, I usually just go fly somewhere cozier. Still, the fact that she gave the drunken idiot of us the larger blanket is real generous. Even Rarity could take a lesson from her.

Wow, that coffee really did help with the headache. I can hardly feel a thing. Granted, there’s still a little bit of throbbing in my forehead, but it lacks pain. It’s more the pressure than anything else that irks me. “There was more than cream and sugar in that drink, wasn’t there?”

AJ finally looks back at me, having heard a question she won’t be embarrassed to answer. “Yep. Whatcha drank there had some of Zecora’s finest tasteless herbs. Helps any sorta headache. Cost me a pretty bit too, but hey, luck favors the prepared, am Ah right?”

Ah, Zecora and her exotic medication. I doubt there’s anything she can’t do, aside from wear clothes that show off less than eighty percent of her coat. “Wonder how she’s tolerating the winter.”

“Sugarcube, that zebra can snap the neck of a chimera in her sleep,” says AJ. “Ah think she’s doin’ just fine.”

Immediately I think about Zecora in her cloth garments kicking some serious monster ass bare handed. “Well, with that body she could do anything. Wonder if she could teach me how to get a figure like hers. Agh, but that’ll have to wait until I can actually be outside for more than a few minutes without my wings freezing over.”

Applejack chuckles innocently. “Ah ain’t concerned about the future, Rainbow. Let’s just focus on the now.”

I cock a brow at that notion, leaning towards her. “Okay, but what exactly are we doing... right now?”

“You got me.” That playful smile of hers makes my cheek tick, but it also makes my heart flutter. Unfortunately, it still doesn’t make me warmer. “Why don’t you describe what’s happening… right now?”

Oh, so that’s her game. AJ sure has gotten a habit of toying around lately. She definitely hasn’t gotten it from Big Mac, that’s for certain. “Uh-huh. Well, I’m cold as all get-out,” I grab ahold of the underside the blankets, “my head still hurts,” I feel another throb, making me whinge, “the weather is murder,” I notice that the windows are completely fogged up at this point, “and I probably embarrassed myself beyond all reasoning when I was drunk off my ass. Ask me how I’m doi— Ow!” I bury my face in my hands. “Oh, Celestia, make it stop…”

“Ah don’t think Celestia can help ya right now, but Ah sure as sugah can try.” Braving the elements, AJ removes her blanket. Her silk robe is higher cut than I thought, showing off her toned and humorously furry legs. I guess she doesn’t take the time to cut her coat during the cold seasons. I’ll never understand these land types and their lack of need to fly. It’s not wonder I’m so frozen compared to her.

She crawls the short distance across the couch to me, reaching for my forehead. I expect her calloused hands to feel rough and jaded on me, but there’s that comfort I’ve come to expect from her. Her touch is nearly enough to alleviate the throbbing. Heh, I wish.

“Hmm…” She lightly holds my cheeks, then leans in even closer. Looking down, I can see down her robe. She is literally wearing nothing under that thing. It really makes me think… Wait, no. Did she put that on for me? That’s just— I lose my train of thought the instant her lips touch my forehead. My eyes remain open and my body stays absolutely still until I hear the light pop of her removing her lips. Even then, she’s only, like, an inch away from me. “Yep, you’ve got it bad, Rainbow.”

My cheeks are utterly flaming. I smile dorkily, still keeping watch over her leaf-green eyes. “Do I ever…”

“Ah was talkin’ about the hangover.”

What did you say, farm tits? Argh, get your mind out of the gutter, Rainbow! “Yeah, it’s not fun. I think I need another cup of coffee.”

AJ purses her lips. “Zecora told me it only dulls the pain; it ain’t a cure.”

Just hearing that makes my head throb again. My fingers dig into my palms as I curse myself. If I hadn’t overdone it, I might be having a much more, uh, pleasurable evening. I really should have followed through on my vow. Ended it at the fourth drink. Some paragon of loyalty I am. Can’t even keep a promise to myself.

Oh, what am I saying? It’s just a little mistake. I’ve made plenty of those…

“Ah know somethin’ that’ll fix ya right up,” AJ says. She’s on her knees at this point, with her hands on my shoulders… Her robe is loose, hanging limp off one of her shoulders… The sash is a little askew, like the knot was only half done…

I’ve seen enough hentai to know where this is going. “Oh yeah?” I ask, putting on a half-lidded stare of my own.

AJ is really close to me, to the point where I can see the little knots in her mussy fur, and every single little strand of straw hair hanging down, unrestricted by her usual double-tied tail. Her actual tail isn’t tied up either. “Rainbow,” she whispers.

“Yeah?”

She touches my chin, then pushes upward, bringing the my head to face her dead-on. Her muzzle is on a crash-course with mine… She opens her lips and says, “Y’all need to take a shower. That’ll help with the pain.”

She removes her hand from my chin, giving me ample room to facepalm. What was I thinking? That’s what I should have done in the first place. I smile and nod. “Good call, AJ. I’ll be right back.” Of course, stepping out of the security of this blanket into the icy cold air with most of my body exposed would be suicide, so I hold the blanket tight, taking it with me as I sit up. “Uh, you do have the hot water working, right?” I glance to the fogged up window.

“Ah may be one stuck in earthwalker tradition but Ah ain’t too proud to use one a’ those fancy magic water talismans,” says AJ. “Shower’ll be hot as ya need it ta be.” She’s laying on her side, with one hand against her head and the other laid across one of her beefy legs. She looks away from me for a moment, not dropping her smile, yet she seems to be have boarded a different train of thought. “Uh, hey, Rainbow…”

Despite the blanket, I’m still trembling like I’m a living earthquake, and as much as I’d like to hear more of Applejack’s sexy country brogue, I just can’t. “I’ll hear it when I get out, okay? I’m getting ice in my hooves here.” I head for the upstairs, where I’m sure sweet relief awaits me.

The bathroom door closes shut by itself shortly after I step inside. Unfortunately, the bathroom, while warmer than the rest of the farmhouse, has a tile floor, so go figure that it hasn’t taken well to the frigid temperatures. Like I’m (Ironically) stepping on hot coals, I shuffle my hooves rapidly and lightly as I ditch the blanket.

Conveniently, I find a green and red towel hanging next to the shower, which is one of those dual sets; it can be used as a bath as well. Despite that, it is fairly large. Large enough for at least three ponies. That’s good, ‘cause I wanna stretch out my wings for a little while.

Welp, time to strip. I always like to do this in front of the mirror, just so I can get a good look at my toned figure. First things first, I ditch my necklace and set it on the counter. Then I unbutton and unzip my jeans and let them fall before I kick them onto the counter (Score), so now I’m down to my boxer-briefs. Yes, I wear dude’s underwear. It accompanies my physique better. I get a good look at my muscular legs. Granted, they’re not as large as AJ’s, but I need to keep them in check for flight speed.

I grab the underside of my sport’s bra and tug it off over my head. My average sized breasts become exposed to the elements. For the sake of humoring myself, I give them a little squeeze. Yep, they’re definitely none too impressive, especially in comparison to AJ’s. Heh. I remember another time I crashed here, and she slept topless. She says a bra feels restrictive, so she lets the puppies hang out. As hot as that is, it also makes a ton of sense. Farmgirls put comfort and practicality over style. That’s why I’m a little jealous of her; she can afford to be lax with her body. It just so happens that she’s a buff broad. I, however, would probably be expelled from the academy if my breasts were more than a C-cup.

I slide my hands along my flat belly, hook ‘em underneath my underwear and pull it down. I’d take the time to admire my, let’s be honest here, perfect hips, but I’m too damn cold to admire myself any further. I dash to the shower and pull back the apple-patterned curtain. I turn the handle as far up to the hot end as it can go, then flick the small lever. From the nozzle comes a welcome spray of warm water that resonates with my whole body just from being near it.

The anticipation is murder. I practically jump in there, letting the water glaze my mane and coat. Ah, warmth, glorious warmth! I nearly forgot what being warm feels like. I swear, if winters in Ponyville keep getting this bad, eventually I’m just gonna have to spend ‘em in Saddle Arabia. Nothing bad ever happens there.

Now that my blood isn’t frozen, the throbbing is really starting to ebb and I don’t have two D-cups of orange marshmallow staring me down from across a couch, I can actually afford to think.

All in all, it hasn’t been a bad night. I found someplace to sleep instead of having to trudge, and inevitably fly all the way home though nothing but white, blistering brutality. I’m bunking with a cool farmgirl tonight. Then in the morning, I’ll be entirely awake and… What’s the opposite of a hangover? I’ll be that. Then I’ll go home, then I’ll spend a few days debating when the hell I should take down my Hearth’s Warming Eve decorations… Odds are I’ll read a certain note left by a certain somepony I love. I still remember it in my head. I only read it thirteen times.

Heyo, Rainbow Dash!

Awesome news! My flight crew and I are going national! We’re doing a few charity shows across Equestria for Hearth’s Warming. Hey, it’s a time for giving, after all. I’ll be back a week after the Eve. Sure, yeah, I ain’t getting paid but it’s real good for publicity. Oh yeah, and we’re raising money for good causes, obviously!

See ya when I get back, sister.

-Scootaloo

I punch the wall so hard the whole bathroom shakes. At least it feels like that. And I don’t give a crap about how much my knuckles hurt when the adrenaline wears off. I fold my arms across my stomach and hang my head down low. Great, now the pain is back.

So, it hasn’t been a bad night. But it’s been a Goddess-awful Hearth’s Warming Eve. If it were up to me, the night would have gone in a completely different direction.

Here’s how I imagine it: First, given that I can’t cook worth a crap, I’d pick up Scootaloo and take her with me to an awesome holiday dinner at Furious Feathers (It’s an awesome airborne buffet restaurant near Cloudsdale). We’d eat until we were sick. Then we’d up and fly back to my place together, probably watch some crappy holiday specials, I’d give her that new leather and stud flightsuit I bought her, then we’d hug, go to bed, and I’d fall asleep cuddling with my little sister.

Sure, that’s not exactly the best night ever, but it’d my best night ever. Instead, here I am, miserable, angsting beneath a shower with sore knuckles and an aching head. All I can see in front of my face are mottled strings of rainbow.

Taking notice of that, I lean my head back and let my mane fall across my back. Right, I’m here to feel better, get warmer and clean myself up. And I shouldn’t feel angry at Scootaloo… If anything, I’m proud of her. Too proud to even think about being jealous. And I’m sure there will be plenty of good times to be had when she gets home.

Until then, that doesn’t change the fact that my Hearth’s Warming Eve plans are up in the air, and I’ve only got a few more hours until I can find something to do that doesn’t involve going to bed alone. ...I hate being alone. Now more than ever.

That’s when it hits me like I could have had a different beverage. I’m not alone. I don’t see Applejack doing anything for Hearth’s Warming Eve other than putting up with me. But why? ...she holds the Element of Honesty. If she wanted to do something better with her time, she could have just told me. But she didn’t. She had that smile on her face the whole time, watching me blunder over and over with an apple shaped twinkle in her eye. She… I need to ask her something.

I reach for the curtain, get a grip on a fold and yank the whole darn thing aside, all the while shouting, “Applej...!”

Oh.

I feel my cheeks warm up in a hurry as my eyes roam across the farmgirl's body, her curves barely covered by a loosely worn towel hanging from her like a... um... geez, the tease is practically pushing her breasts right in my face! "O-oh, you're here," I manage, my mouth feeling dry as I unconsciously move my arms up to hug my chest. "Wuh-what's up?"

She feathers her mane like she isn't standing in front of me with all of her chiseled arms and legs showing, looking me over. I can see her eyes tracing me, starting at my hooves and ending at my face, which is comicially frozen in shock. She places one hand on her hip and stands sassily. "Well, Ah heard yah gruntin', then there was that slammin' noise. Wanted ta make sure the hangover wasn't havin' a second wind... Or you were abusin' yourself." She smirks. "But I see yer lookin' just fine..."

"Well, uh... Thank you." I feel my blush deepen a bit, and I turn away from her, the shower's water beating down on my face. "So... did you want me to get out, or something? Looks like you were getting ready to hop in."

"Oh, Rainbow." She makes a one-noted chuckle. I lock up, with my fingers twitching, as I feel her breath on the back of my neck. It's nice and warm. Even more warm than the drizzle. "Y'all don't know when a good thing is starin' ya right in the face." Her muzzle brushes against my shoulder, snuggling up slowly to my neck. "What makes you think Ah'm gonna let ya get out?"

I feel my legs shudder, a shiver running down my spine in the wake of one of her long, firm finger as it makes its way towards my flanks. "Ah-Applejack," I turn towards her, and gasp as her lips touch my neck, kissing me gently. My entire body's so hot now that the water feels freezing against my body.

While she glowers at me, undressing me with her eyes (Despite my being well and naked already), she proceeds to do the same. She undoes her towel with a single motion, and stands there like a boss while it falls to her hooves. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, ya dummy.”

I say something really smart. “Uh-buwah?”

She jumps at me, and the only thing that stops us from falling over is my wings' reflexive flaring as my balance shifts. By the time I'm once again steady on my feet, her lips are locked against mine, and we're sliding down until we're sitting, somewhat in each other's laps, under the warm torrent of the shower. Her breath is still so warm as her hands fly all over my body, roping me in closer until our bodies are pressed tight. Our moans are the only thing interrupting the violent kiss.

I look at her, my mind in a fervor, but feeling as clear as the bluest of skies. I dive forwards, my coat intertwining with hers as I shove my tongue into her mouth. Jeez. Both of us are trying to gain the upper hand in a tongue-wrestle. But I don’t really care who wins.

"You're beautiful..."

She breaks the kiss, breathing into my mouth. “Don’t lay on the sap, darlin’.” Our tongues collide again.

“Okay, you’re hot…”

That's all I can get out before she grazes her teeth over my lower lip and bites down. It's a sweet kind of pain, one I'd definitely take over a hangover any day. Speaking of, I feel my forehead after she pulls away. "Heh. Hey, it's gone."

"Ain't that a kick in the head," she says. Her hand joins mine on my forehead. We look into each other and smile with affection, but that moment is real brief. She pushes me lightly, but even that's enough to put me onto my back, supported only by my stiff wings. "Well, more like a push in the head." She takes notice of my wings, then gets that mischievous face I've only had the luck to see so often on her. She reaches for a bottle of preening oil. "Ah knew this'd come in handy someday..." She comes at me with her fingers like pincers.

I can't help the moan that escapes me as her fingers touch the tips of my primaries. She combs right through them with gusto. "Nnn! AJ, y-your hands feel s-so weeeird!" I giggle as she leans over me and starts to nibble lightly on my ear.

"Sorry, sugahcube, can't say Ah've done this before, so you'll have to teach me how ta do it right."

“You gotta do it slowly…”

“Ah.”

I nod rapidly. “One feather at a time.”

“Gotcha, sweetie.” She fiddles with my wingtips again, this time with much more tenderness and less strength. I gotta say, it’s far better this way, even if drags out. When AJ runs her fingers beneath the feathers, she ends up tweaking my stems, and that’s a more sensitive part. My legs wobble and grind together. I’m already leaking, and the fur of my legs is starting to mat. Somepony’s gonna need to clean her shower when she’s done with me.

Another run-through of my primaries down to my secondaries makes me gasp and flap my wings involuntarily. Splatters of water on both my sides coat the wall and curtain, and get AJ even more soaked. She laughs as she wipes her mane out of her eyes, then continues massaging, working her way through my coverts. The way her fingers, slick from the preening oil, drag along each individual feather… It makes my vision go blurry. “Well, aren’t you just rarin’ ta go?”

I have to bite on my finger to keep myself from moaning any louder. Ooh, speaking of biting… I raise my wings up, pointing the end directly at AJ’s face. She raises a brow, but she gets it after a moment. Thank Celestia. She’s leaving me hanging here while my loins burn! She gently licks up the end of my wing and chomps down on that notch.

“Ah~! Oh, that’s…” My teeth clench as I lean my head back. “That’s good, ah… Ooooh, that’s awesome~!”

Every feather is a potential turn-on if touched in the just the right way; it’s like they’re all connected to whatever part of the body creates orgasms. Applejack has always known how to touch me in just the right way to get me going. I’m partial to anything having to do with my legs, but it takes a certain sort of touch to bring a pegasus to cum while only touching their more feathered appendages. It’s a sort of wild and wacky fetish that only other pegasi have a tendency to understand.

But not AJ, that sexy queen of the farm tomboy. She splays herself over me and presses her chest against mine. Her large, supple and now moistened breasts devour mine, there’s no contest. But it’s still hot as hell, the way she slides along, grinding against me with all of her strength and amazonian beauty. She looks amazing, her handiwork is amazing… All in all, she’s a damn awesome lay. And we haven’t even gotten started yet.

She sees fit to prove that. She grabs a whole tuft of feathers in each hand, making me thrash. “AAGH!” I feel an especially large and warm trickle of my juices around my crotch. I’d be able to keep screaming if AJ would let me. She keeps peppering me with snogs, taking me by my whole mouth.

I can’t take it anymore. When AJ digs her digits into the seam between my primaries and secondaries, the pressure building in my nethers bursts. This time, I’m the one who makes the move on her, grappling her by her back and pulling her in for an intense kiss. As my juices cascade from my snatch, no doubt messing up AJ’s fur, I can feel her own nectar on my crotch. So she really is hot for me right now. For a moment there I thought she was just doing this out of sympathy.

The kiss I started out of desperation turns into something a little more romantic as my thrashing settles, but my head is still fuzzy from that orgasm. At this point, I’d be willing to do anything for AJ, just for being so awesome about this.

I smile at her as she rumples my mane, stroking it like I’m her pet or something. “Y’all satisfied, darlin’?” she asks, sitting up, allowing me a full look at that body. What’s that, hands? You wanna get a little more familiar with the fuzzy farmgirl’s figure? Well, alright then.

Starting from her ample posterior, I follow her muscular curves up past her stomach, the one not-washboard part of her. But I suppose she has the right to a bit of a gut. Where else would she keep her stallion stomach? My attention is on something much larger. Well, two things. I take a handful of each large, succulent breast and grope them for all they’re worth. I’ve always been fond of the apples of Applejack. Can’t believe I’ve never taken a chance to cop a feel before. “You know the first time I saw you naked?”

She chuckles. “Ah’ll indulge ya. When was that?”

“It was last year, I think, while Bloom was at camp and Big Mac was out of town.” I show AJ my teeth. “You were out in the fields, apple bucking topless.”

I’ve finally made her blush. She holds her cheeks, breathing heavily as I continue to squeeze and rub her breasts. “That was a hot summer.”

Haha, nice. "And you wonder why the farmhands declined payment for a month."

She sighs, then simple settles for humming quietly while enjoying my boob massage. I know I’m doing something right, the way her body moves quicker with every breath she lets out. Her heart must be pounding so fast right now. I wonder how long she was debating coming up here and giving me quite possibly the second best Hearth’s Warming gift I’ll ever receive. The first would be that perfect night with Scoots, but that’s neither here nor there.

AJ wiggles her hips, mashing her mess into my fur. Great. There’s her revenge for me messing hers up. Eyes closed and cheeks more red than orange, she takes my hands and forces them harder against her breasts, spreading them all across her chest like the marshmallow they are. I add it a little nipple tweaking for good measure, and that’s enough to make the immovable powerhouse shudder.

“Caaah… Couldja do somethin’ fer me, Rainbow?” She says that as she gets off of me and crawls away, then, hovering her hands over her nethers, rises and backs up against the wall. She was so confident a second ago and now she’s all flustered. And rubbing her vulva. I think her plan to make me feel better might have backfired.

But who says that has to be a bad thing?

I flap my wings lightly to get onto my hooves. In just a step I’m right next to AJ again. “Don’t need to tell me, boss.” She pulls me into a needy kiss, touching me on my shoulders, my neck, my head, my arms, jeez… She’s touching me everywhere she can get a grip. By the time this is over I’m just gonna be covered in AJ. And that’s okay. Ooh, and speaking of getting covered in her…

I cup her cheeks. “Just relax and enjoy yourself,” I say without any trace of subtlety.

“Can do…” She resumes the kiss without giving me any chance to resist. Well, okay then. I suppose I can multitask. My naughty fingers work their along her neck and over her lovely lady lumps, then keep traveling on downtown until I swear I’ve dipped my fingers into a tub of oil. But I know I’ve reached my destination; she’s making noises into my mouth as I slide back and forth between her legs.

My thumb finds its way between AJ’s lower lips and carves a path inside. Mmhmm, now it’s a rodeo. My other digits slowly yet powerfully explore the inside of the apple, tracing the edges and pushing in deeper. I might just reach the core at this rate, haha!

My other hand is doing something to enhance the experience of a teased vagina. This doesn’t go for everypony, but whenever Twilight yanks me by the tail with her magic, I start to feel a little warm down there. I dunno how that works, but I’ve never told her just so she keeps doing it. I won’t outright yank Applejack’s pretty tail, though. Instead, I just wrap my hand around the base and lightly tug, while still focusing on making her feel good up front.

Sweet, it’s working. AJ can’t focus on kissing me anymore. In fact, she can barely stand. She uses her elbows against the tile wall for support as she kicks her head back, gasping. “R-Rainbow…”

Just that calling out makes my already erect feathers tingle. I gotta kick this up a notch; I’m working my fingers overtime and she’s still not cumming. I kiss her one more time on the cheek, then start my descent. I kiss and lick both her breasts, nuzzle her muscles, and peck around her legs and crotch before I take a good look the prize. Her lower lips are all puffy from my teasing, and she’s got apple juice all over her legs down to her hooves. Somepony’s gonna need a second shower. But then again, it is a good sign when you come out of a shower dirtier than when you went in.

I lick my lips, and then I lick hers.

“Rainbow, what’re ya— AH!”

I don’t even need to coax her open before I stick my tongue into the danger zone and lick between her vaginal folds. I trace circles around the inside for good measure before I go up higher for something a bit more important. AJ’s knees touch my sides when I just barely lap at her nub. Ah, so this is the stem of the apple. “Ah, so you like this?”

She tousles my mane again. I see that her other hand is getting even more associated with one of her breasts. “Yeah… Yer… Ya know what Ah like…” She gives me a wide-eyed nod of approval before she grabs her tit and licks at it. With her own mouth! That’s hot.

Before I give her what she really deserves, I play with her a little by blowing on her exposed clit. That makes her buckle again.

“St-Stop torturin’ me… Let me cum, Rainbow!”

“Well, Happy Hearth’s Warming to you too.” I press the flat of my tongue to her clit and please her with strong, pressured licks. It’s oddly gratifying to know I’m making her wetter than a seapony. It could just be my imagination based on a real stupid metaphor, but I’m pretty sure she actually tastes like apples. Either way, my attention is on her nub, which I kiss and squeeze between my lips before I lick away with the very tip of my tongue.

“Gonna… Aw, Rainbow… That’s it… Love it… Ah love it!” She grabs my head. With a surprised gasp, I’m forced against her pussy. I just blindly lick away. I can tell by her pulsating that she’s well over the edge at this point. All I can do is help with the fall. “So good, so good, fuck, cumming…cumming… Yes, yes!”

With one final, triumphant lick, I back off and let AJ climax. Her luscious legs get a fresh coating of her apple juice as she holds on to the shower’s support bar for dear life. I help her through her orgasm by wrapping her up in an intense embrace, and I don’t stop until her thrashing ceases, which isn’t for a whole minute, I’d estimate. Even then, I don’t entirely let go. I still hold her by her shoulders as I look into her dopey reddened face. She makes a one-noted laugh.

“Ah said some real uncouth things there.”

I kiss her on the muzzle. “Are you kidding? You’re so hot when you let loose.”

She kisses me back, only it feels a bit more snarky than sweet. That just makes me wanna kiss her even more. She opens her mouth to say something in response, but I plant my lips on her open mouth, shutting her up, and I keep ‘em there. While the water keeps falling, drenching our mussed up fur and nectar soaked legs, we just keep kissing and holding each other.

Talk is cheap anyway.

AJ throws my pants into the dirty clothes hamper, along with my sport’s bra and everything else unimportant. She fastens her purple robe to her waist, firmly hiding any of her naughty bits from sight (Much to my disapproval, but she didn’t care) while she forces me to wrap the one towel around my chest.

“Hey, if we’re gonna keep doin’ this, there’s gotta be some mystery, right, sugarcube?”

I shrug as I tighten the towel. That should just about do it. “I guess you’re right.” Seeing her tits only every so often makes them that much more awesome to look at, anyway. Until then, I’ll settle for looking at her absolute cleavage in that robe. I’m so focused on it, I don’t notice her walk up to me. She kisses me affectionately. Not passionately, but just like a good marefriend would. It’s real nice, actually.

“Besides, a little decency is necessary for a full house. Ah don’t wanna be caught stark naked with mah best friend when Apple Bloom comes home tomorrow. An’ Granny Smith would just have a heart attack—”

I hold up my hand, stopping her lecture, and wrap that same hand around her back and hold her by the waist. “Okay, I get it.” Once again, I find myself captivated by how buff and broad she is. I think she’s actually more of a stallion than Braeburn. Don’t get me wrong, he looks good, but he’s a little on the shrimpy side compared to Big Mac and AJ. Hell, even Bloom might have him beat.

“So, should we take this to the bedroom or back to the couch?” I ask the farmgirl as I rest my head on her stallion-like shoulder.

“Ah think the bed would be a bit warmer.” She leads me along, opening the door and walking out into the hallway.

Suddenly I’m reminded of one of the reasons I stepped into the shower in the first place. I huggle AJ a bit closer, hoping her perpetual hotness rubs off on me. “Warm is nice. I like warm.”

“Come on.” We turn and continue swaggering down the hallway. AJ’s room is just ahead, and with it, sweet warmth, comfort and cuddles await. Who knows? We might just get naked again. I don’t wanna scissor with her or anything; I’m all tuckered out and read for my long winter’s nap, but I’d give anything to get close to AJ again.

She reaches for the door handle and turns to face me. “Now, Ah always take the left side, just so ya know.” She opens the door, giving me a full view of her humble room of rest. Dang, she really needs to clean up. She’s got a fur-lined duster on the floor, along with a waistcoat, chaps, a blue and black leather jacket with a Wonderbolt patch… What the hell?

And her bed is a wreck too, with the sheets and covers all jumbled up in a frenzy.

“It’s just been preference, ya know? Ah ain’t comfortable unless—”

“Uh, AJ…” I interrupt her and point to the strange sight.

“Huh?” She turns her attention there. “What in tarnation? Ah cleaned this place up this mornin’! Unless...” She immediately forces me off of her, wearing a disgruntled frown as she stomps over to the… not bed. She goes to her dresser and opens the top drawer, and pulls out a holy crap that’s a hunting rifle! Since when does she have a hunting rifle?!

While I stand in the doorway, gaping, she cocks it, then goes over to the chaotic bed. She grabs the covers with one hand, tightly gripping the rifle in the other, and rips them off.

I never knew field-green eyes could look so livid. She grits her teeth and points the rifle at the most unexpected stallion I thought I’d ever seen in her bed. Soarin of the Wonderbolts rolls over and crosses his legs, awkwardly waving AJ (And the rifle) hello.

AJ seems more concerned with the stallion laying next to Soarin. “Braeburn! Again?!”

The feminine looking cowcolt covers himself with the sheets and blushes madly, grabbing his hat from the floor and hiding his face.

While AJ’s freaking out about her cousin getting down and dirty in her own bed, I’m more appalled at who he was getting down and dirty with.

“Why doesn’t just everypony in your family bang a Wonderbolt?!”

A Spoonful of Sugar (Apple Bloom, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon)
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Cold Drinks and Warm Hearts

A Spoonful of Sugar (Apple Bloom, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon)

There are two things you should know about this farm pony.

One: I love Hearth’s Warming Eve and everything about it. I love the music, I love the decorations, I love the stories, especially the legend of the six founders of Equestria, and I love having cousin Braeburn around. He’s a fun fella to hang out with.

Two: If winter had a face, I would punch it.

I’m not a fan. Call it imprinting or hardwiring, but I’m a farmpony who has been raised by farmponies, and that means I get my kicks from working the fields until I’m damn near catatonic. It’s just something that has to be done, and I’m okay with that. I’ve learned to appreciate the sweat on my brow and back, the callouses on my palms, the soreness beneath my skin… Something that would have a scrawnier pony running for the hills (At least, the hill I ain’t working on) is something I relish.

So it sucks that the one thing getting in the way of that honest, rewarding hard labor is a bunch of Celestia-damned snow. Yeah, of course, with all of this powder falling on our heads, a few shingles are gonna need fixing, and frozen pipes are always a bother, but between those jobs… Yeah, I’ve got nothing.

So I was the one stuck in the house all day with nothing to do, waiting for the day Scootaloo gets home from her charity gig. The closest I’ll get to spending any time with my fellow Crusaders this Hearth’s Warming is watching Sweetie Belle’s setlist at Pronkfest over the crummy TV. But that event is long over.

Not to mention, I can’t hope for any farmhands to come around this time of year. Never have I had the cuddle itches so bad.

It’s a matter of duh that when Applejack asked if I wanted to come along to Pinkie Pie’s little holiday party, I almost stood up and sang. Finally, something mildly interesting!

And then Applejack, who I swear had more red in her face than orange, immediately went to talk to Rainbow Dash in the center booth. Where does that leave me? Alone, sitting off on the side, drinking my bottle of Sir Cilantro with nopony to talk to but the white pegasus on the label. Hello, white pegasus.

Nevertheless, I enjoy the sweetness of the root beer. I’m still a while off from being able to drink the kind sans root, but in the meantime, I’ll settle for this, along with that little bit of apple cider I’m allowed to drink at family reunions.

“Hiya, Bloom! Enjoying the drinks?” says a high pitched voice in my ear. I look at Pinkie Pie, and she can tell that I’m not quite prepared to handle her hyperactive holiday cheer. So she just takes her smile elsewhere, somersaulting away. That… is entirely normal.

Until I actually have something to talk about and have somepony to talk about said thing with, I’m just going to focus on the carbonated beverage before me. I reach for my feather-accented nine-gallon hat and set it on my head, then kick up my legs. Just another day at the office.

The bubbles within my drink rise and pop much like excitement in life; their swelling and bursting happens so fast, and yet before you know it, there’s more bubbles. I wait for something to happen. A call, the mail, some sort of accident to occur in a call for this mare’s name.

The name is Rider. Crimson Rider.

Like the preluding song of the opera, my office’s bell rings. Why should this particular ring be so special? Somehow, my attention is drawn to the door and the two dames stepping in. For the next few minutes, they will be at my mercy. Or perhaps the other way around, if they’re the fierce type.

“See, Di? I told you she’d be here,” says the grey one. She wears a fine lady’s jacket over a sundress, with her leggings as tight as a virgin from Canterlot. But this one is far too confident in the way she swings her hips to be either of those things, particularly the former. That prim and proper bun in her hair isn’t fooling anypony.

The other dame, wearing her pink coat proud, follows the sultry one from behind, and yet she’s earned the greater amount of my attention with her manner of dress; quite literally, as its white cloth descends all the way down to her heeled boots. This is accompanied with a matching jacket and a lacy shawl. All of these frilly decorations and the one I question the most is the umbrella. “I was the one who brought it up. So you have me to thank,” she says to her friend.

“Well, we found her, so that’s what matters, right?”

“Uh, is she okay?” The umbrella girl is staring at me like my mane just caught fire. “Is she talking to herself?”

The dames stroll past the counter, foregoing the pleasure of any soothing drink and relegating their ambition to coming my way. I know these mares as well as the back of my hand. They’re the catalysts of many days of elitist induced hazing. The marks upon their flanks gave them delusions of grandeur, and they had to flaunt those delusions. Eventually, the wounds they left upon me were scarred over so many times, I became bulletproof. But that was only the beginning of their collapsing empire...

The silver one leans over, for some reason believing waving her gloved hand in front of her face will do any good. “Uh, Apple Bloom? Did you get cabin fever?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised; she’s been trapped in the farmhouse all winter.”

Alright, screw it. Enough melodrama. I remove my stetson and slap it onto Silver Spoon’s head, then poke Diamond Tiara in her gut, much to her chagrin. “Ah don’t have cabin fever, ya ninnies. Just a story I’ve been working on.”

Diamond Tiara seems less than impressed as she takes a seat next to me, sighing dramatically. She holds my shoulders and rests her head against mine. “Woe is her, the workhorse has been off the plower so long she’s resorted to entertaining herself with, le gasp, liberal arts.” She chuckles. “You should have gotten ahold of us weeks ago.”

Silver Spoon is in the middle of checking herself out in the window with my stetson. “Huh, not bad…”

“Stop eye-banging yourself.” Di (That’s my nickname for her; not gonna call her five syllables all day long) reaches for Silvy (Three syllables is also too long) and grabs the hat. She chuckles again and eyes me sinisterly. “Hey, you know what the difference between you and me is?” She throws the stetson on herself. “I make this look good.”

“Ya know… Ya kinda do.” No, seriously, she does. The natural shadow it casts brings out the pure evil in her eyes. “Now put on a tasseled bikini an’ bend over a carriage. There’s your next best-selling calendar.”

Di raises her finger, about to make some sort of snide comment, but she retracts it as her smile disappears. “That’s… not an awful idea, actually.”

“What should I wear?” Silvy takes a seat, leaning over the table with intense interest.

I size her up a little, determining what would look good with her skinny waist and moderate bust. “A cowgirl vest and chaps. And... no bra.”

She purrs, obviously enticed by my idea. “For a ruffian, you’ve got a taste for erotic clothing. You should hang up the hat and get a job with us.”

I don’t even need to think about that one. I take back my stetson from Di and aggressively put it back on. “Nah. If it’s a choice between ruffian and whore, Ah’ll take ruffian.”

Di sighs with exasperation. “For the fifth time, Hayseed, we’re not whores; we’re models.”

“Ah wasn’t talkin’ ta you.” I raise a single brow towards Silver Spoon.

She’s laughing, but for some reason she decides to slap me on the wrist. “Oh, I’m the slut! You’re one to talk.”

“What are you goin’ on about?”

Silvy snatches my stetson, again, and starts imitating my country accent the instant it lands on her noggin. “‘Well, golly gee! Ah sure love me some farmhands! They make the best apple sauce… all over mah back!’”

I shove the stetson over her eyes, but that only makes her laugh harder, and against my better judgment, I start cracking up too, along with Di.

Our laughter goes on for at least a minute before we’re finally able to speak again, but by the time that happens, I’m all out of things to say, and I don’t have any drink left.

But one question does remain. “The heck are y’all doin’ here to begin with?”

Di wraps her arm around me and sighs dramatically. “Oh, Hayseed. Do we truly need a reason to pay a visit to our dear friend?”

“Uh, yeah?” I say incredulously. I remove Di’s arm from my body. “Last I checked, Ah still sorta hate ya.”

Silvy admits defeat, brushing one of the very few stray locks from her face. “You know us too well, Bloom… We have an ulterior motive. See, it was not an hour ago that I spoke to a certain somepony you may be familiar with.”

“An’ who would that be? Scoots and Sweetie are way out of town.”

“Not them. I was talking about a certain other somepony that you might know. Curly mane? Cream coat? The motht adowable wittle thpeech impediment?”

Okay, that’s all the description I need. “Why the hell would you wanna talk to Twist? After that verbal beatdown she gave Di, Ah assumed her name became synonymous with death in your vocabularies.”

I look over at Di. She’s twiddling her fingers under the table, and I think she’s breathing really fast. “Yes, well... Doesn’t mean it has to remain that way…” I can tell the memories of graduation week are still fresh in her mind, so I lend her a comforting pat on the back. It’s high time to move the conversation along.

“You were sayin’?”

Silver Spoon clears her throat and resumes. “Well, wouldn’t you know it? When I went to meet up with her, she wasn’t at her apartment, which means she’s likely spending a little quality time with her new coltfriend.”

Di is still a little twitchy but she seems to be recovering. “Ah, the magic of Hearth’s Warming Eve,” she says. “It seems the greatest gift one can give on this night of nights is the gift of booty.”

Then, right the hell out of nowhere, Silvy starts singing. “Yanking off his pants… Taking off her own… Right beneath the mistletoe, she’s gonna make him moan!”

Di and I join in to the debaucherous jingle. “Oh, Button Mash, Button Mash, how’d you land that girl? Once she gets you all alone, Twist will rock your world! Hey!” We all clap at the same time.

“Wait a moment…” I begin. “That’s what y’all wanna do, isn’t it? Sneak up to Button’s house in the middle of the night an’ spy on him and Twist shenaniganin’?”

Di and Silvy both nod with enthusiasm, sharing the same look. I’ve seen that look before. They only wear it when they’re about to do something incredibly stupid and immature. I look at my reflection in the window. Yep, I have that look too. I guess I’m up for some sneakery as well. Stupid and immature may not be my style, but Applejack has been begging me to get outside and do something all winter.

“We have a perfect view of Button Mash’s house from my apartment,” says Di in an unusually sultry tone. “What do you say, Hayseed? Nice? Or naughty?”

Should have been careful what you wished for, big sister.

So, the ever pristine and proper Diamond Tiara is finally letting me see exactly where she disappeared to after that fateful summer day. I’ve heard a lot of rumors, some saying that she became a sugar baby to some rich jackass in order to afford this place. Other people just assume she doesn’t live here to begin with and she’s only squatting until the real owners get back. Both of those rumors are complete horseapples, of course, but they are kinda funny.

I know Di well enough. She’s a lot of things but she isn’t a liar; I know for a fact that she lives in this apartment, takes good care of it, makes more than enough at her modeling job to pay rent… The only thing I don’t know is what the place actually looks like, and that’s about to change. From the large windows and smooth walls of the apartment building, I can tell that Di really went all-out. I wonder how she afforded the initial deposit before she became a model?

We ascend a few flights of stairs, which are unfortunately located outside the apartment itself. Silver Spoon and I hold hands so we don’t slip on any ice. I’m eager to get indoors before the snowfall gets too wild. I recall a flyer from the weather team saying they were going a little overboard with the snowfall this year.

We reach the second floor, where Di pulls out her key and undoes the lock on the slick wooden door. She waves me in like a true lady. “Just throw your stuff on the floor.”

“Ya sure?” I ask with a giggle. “And here I thought you were all Miss Priss.”

“Oh, shut up. This isn’t Canterlot Castle.”

I let go of Silvy and rush inside to get out of the damn snow. It’s only after I muscle out of my winter jacket, hoodie and button-up that I’m able to take in the place. It’s not super roomy by any means, but it’s beyond what I expected for somepony relatively fresh outta high school. Like the door, the floor is slick and shiny with flawless wood paneling, all the furniture has a smooth white finish, and the television is at least sixty inches.

Di has that smarmy look again. She struts forward as she strips down to just her dress, tossing her hat, shawl and umbrella aside. “Castillo de Diamantes! Well? What do you think? You so wish you were me right now.”

I don’t know if I’m showing any sign of jealousy, but I’m not gonna take the risk. I hide my face behind my arm. “Ah’m not gonna say it.”

Silvy grabs my shoulders and shakes me mockingly. “Yeah, she’s jealous.” After I tap her upside the muzzle with the back of my hand, she pats me on the cheek, and then proceeds to remove her jacket and shoes. “Come on, Hayseed. How do you think I feel? I’m saving up all my modeling funds for someplace nice, so I have to live in a crummy apartment three blocks from here.”

“Yeah, well, Ah still live with mah siblings. Ah don’t even have a crummy apartment ta live in, Ah have to be jealous of yers.”

“Aha!” Di points at me. “I knew it!”

I slap myself across the face for letting that slip. “Crafty cheerleaders… Look, are we gonna spy on Button Mash and Twist or what?” Incredible. Diamond Tiara frustrates me so much that I’d rather be doing that dirty deed than listen to her flap her lips for one more minute. Not that I object to the dirty deed in the first place. After watching Button Mash dork his way through school, I’m glad that he finally got his reward. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Twist has become quite a catch.

Di leads us over to the wall opposite her big screen, where her queen sized bed stands on a raised platform. She hops on, crawls up to the head, reaches past her oversized pillows and pulls on a string, opening the blinds of the window. I can see snow coming down outside, but it’s still light enough to look pretty without being difficult to see. I may hate winter, but even I can’t deny that snow, under the right circumstances, does look beautiful.

“Romantic, isn’t it?” Silvy says as she gets up on the bed. She lies down on her stomach, lazily resting her cheeks in her hands and crossing her legs. A part of me begrudgingly respects her for flaunting her ability as a model outside of the studio. Not many ponies are able to look that good without a bunch of lights and cameras staring them down.

I join Silvy and lie down next to her, trying my damndest to not admire her figure and instead focusing on the window. That is, the apartment building outside the window. I had heard Button Mash and his mom, Milano, moved into a pretty big apartment a few years ago, but I haven’t seen it until just now.

“Huh. I guess bein’ an amateur game designer actually brings in quite a few bits,” I say, admiring the fancy yet homey look of Button’s room. Of course, it’s filled with posters, some of 16-bit pixel art, fiery demons of death, or scantily clad medieval amazons with oversized swords. Button is sitting at his three monitors, typing some gibberish into a program I can’t quite make out. The fella is in a bathrobe, so Twist has gotta be somewhere…

“There, on the bed,” Di says, tapping the window with a single finger.

Twist, clad in a robe of her own, is sitting at the edge of the bed, flapping her lips. I can’t hear her through two windows a block apart from each other, obviously. Evidently, whatever it is she’s saying, Button is a little too focused on whatever it is he’s doing to react to it.

Why he isn’t reacting to her is beyond me. I remember when Twist was still a bumbling, brace burdened baby of a filly, hardly able to see a foot in front of her without her glasses. I’ve had several months to adjust, but still can’t believe that little girl was harboring such an effin’ succubus. Her hair has straightened out, she’s gotten smaller glasses, and her body has filled out, with any pudge she has left forming curves in all the right places. I said she was a catch, and I meant it.

The new and improved Twist sighs and stands up, undoing her sash.

“Yep, lingerie.” Di waves to Silvy. “Pay up.”

Silvy curses under her breath as she slaps two bits into Di’s hand.

A barely legal mare with freckles and large glasses should not look that good in a bedroom suit. Her red, strapless bra is adorned with translucent cloth, and... yep, lacy panties. "Honestly, Button..." Silvy sighs. "Do you need a neon sign?" She flexes her fingers as if in time to flashing lights. "TAP. THAT. Tap her like a maple tree,” she says menacingly. “Tap her like a quicktime event.”

Much to our collective surprise, Button does turn around in his chair, finally dropping his concentrated expression to smile up at Twist. She takes the fella’s hand and leads him to the bed, where she embraces him and whispers in his ear.

Twist says more stuff that we can’t hear, but Silvy provides a lip-reading to make up for it. “‘How about I jiggle your joystick?’”

Di and I lose our focus as we laugh out loud. When I’m able to get back on task, I see that Button and Twist are still standing. Their arms wrap around each other and they kiss. It’s not exactly as scandalous as I thought it would be, and I hate myself for even using that word. It’s actually kinda sweet, even as Twist sticks her tongue into Button’s mouth.

Button steers Twist towards the bed. I move up closer to the window, expecting the preamble to one hell of a hoedown. Twist is laid down on the bed, with Button positioning himself over her...

“Come on, dork knight… Claim her!” Silvy hisses.

Button’s bedroom door opens, causing a harsh light to shine into the room. Twist scrambles to cover herself up, throwing her robe on haphazardly, bopping her nose on the bed and dropping her glasses in the process. Button grabs his head, acting as if it’s physically painful to have his mom walk in on him and his pwecious pwincess of peppermint sticks.

Di snickers, flourishing her arm dramatically. “Ah, maternal cock block. That is the absolute worst kind.”

“Nah, sororal cock block is worse,” I say. “A mom at least knows to pretend it never happened. A sister, you never hear the end of it.”

“Sounds like you speak from experience, Hayseed,” Di says with a sneer.

I always get flustered when I think of those hot summer afternoons. It’s just too perfect. An empty barn, a handsome stallion, and an insatiable itch I just have to scratch… “Ah get bored!” I shout.

Silvy plants her hand on the back of my head and shoves me forward, pressing my muzzle against the glass. “Shut up and watch. We’re about to witness a rare sight, when a geek and a nerd meld into one.”

I glare at Silvy out of the corner of my eye. “You’re a little obsessed, ya know…”

“Aren’t I just incorrigible?” she asks, apparently taking what I said as a compliment.

But even I can’t resist the temptation to see Button Mash mash Twist’s buttons, although that seems to be put on a little bit of a hiatus. Button’s mom is setting some bowls down on the desk. With a bit of focus, I’m able to see what’s in the bowls; strawberries and whipped cream. Ah, a perfect snack for foreplay and the romp. “Good for Button Mash ta have his own mom as a wingpony,” I say.

Button’s mom leaves the room with a polite wave, although I see a bit of embarrassment there, not that I really blame her. Button himself is a little flustered too, hanging his head and sulking at the end of his bed.

Twist, who I can assume is determined to make this night end on a happy note, throws off her robe again, wraps her arms around Button’s waist from behind, then reaches under his robe to rub his pelvis. Button, being the teenager he is, immediately pipes up, turning his head towards Twist. Her long neck is perfectly positioned on his shoulder, allowing him to bite down.

I myself enjoy a little biting, but Twist seems to be outright crazy for the sweet pain. She grabs the folds of Button’s robe, tearing it off in one pull. Button isn’t exactly a looker in terms of muscle, but he is fairly attractive in a lanky, trim sort of way. I’m more sweaty for a real stallion, though. Anyway, Twist captures Button in an undignified, desperate kiss that leaves her lips and chin coated in drool by the time she pulls away.

Twist starts tugging at the fringe of her bra. Button responds to her silent pleas, pressing on her back to let her fall to him. Needless to say, he catches her. He undoes the clasp around the back while he says a little more sweet talk, followed by him pursing his lips. The poor fella’s arms are twitchier than a hamster on coffee. I’d prefer a stallion who could undo my bra's hook with one finger… Oh, who am I kidding. I'll never wear a bra.

I have to stifle a gasp. I’m honestly impressed at how much Twist has filled out over the years. Her breasts aren’t exactly perky, but they are meaty, which seems to please Button just fine. He rubs and paws at the massive amount of cream colored fluff before him. I see Twist’s mouth opening and closing rapidly. She’s moaning.

“Wow, a lifetime of gaming does wonders for a colt’s fingers…” Silvy murmurs with a bit of a growl.

There was this voice in my head telling me that it doesn’t matter how bored I am and that this is wrong, blah blah blah, what would Applejack think? Well, that voice is becoming harder to hear with every passing second. It’s strangely captivating to see Twist so promiscuous, but at the same time, vulnerable. Her chest is heaving and her eyes are fluttering as Button lays her down on the bed, flicking his tongue along the very tip of her areola. She’s flapping her lips again, I’m guessing to mutter some dirty talk, or praise Button for his mad skills.

“Hm.” Di starts stroking her chin. “You know, I thought some combination of patronizing insults would come to me, but I’ve got nothing. This is actually kinda cute.”

“Well, as cute as two somewhat outta shape teenagers gettin’ down an’ dirty can get,” I add. “Should we leave ‘em to it? Ah don’t wanna be responsible for ruinin’ mah old friend’s Hearth’s Warmin’ Eve.”

“Sounds fair,” says Silvy. “Show’s pretty much over, anyway.” She taps on the glass, pointing at Button, who reaches over to his lava lamp and flips the switch. His room’s gone all dark. Even though I can barely make out the dark figures of Button and Twist, there won’t be enough light for Silvy, Di and I to see anything spicy.

Di shrugs, stepping off the bed. “Well, good for them.”

My mouth hangs agape. I can’t help but laugh at how lost for words the former alpha mare of the schoolhouse has become. “Ah, reduced to watchin’ your victims from a distance and turnin’ away the moment your common sense tells ya not to. Ah swear, Ah’m becomin’ more of a delinquent than ya ever was.”

Di pivots around, shooting me a loathing glare. “Oh, go blow a farmhand.”

“Give me a few months.” I smirk and point at myself. “Anyway, whaddaya wanna do now? Ah don’t wanna go home in this weather.” I look to the window again, Di and Silvy mimicking me. Even if Button hadn’t turned the light off, his and Twist’s escapades would have been impossible to see through all this snow, given a few minutes. “Ah don’t think this weather is gonna let up anytime soon.”

“There’s a Power Ponies Christmas Special on,” Di suggests, waving her hand at the big screen. “That could be stupid fun.”

“Or…” Silver Spoon begins with a sorta promiscuous sounding chuckle.

Any snow that falls near the tub melts into drops of water, becoming one with the steam. The balcony of the apartment was the last place I wanted to be on a frigid night like this, but the moment Silvy mentioned that Di has been hiding a goldarn hot tub under our muzzles, I couldn’t resist. It’s a fancy little thing, too. Cupholders, neon lights and a bubble dial. Diamond Tiara stands by it in her robe, stroking the padded fringe like a model on a game show. “It came with the apartment. It was just out here, collecting dust, so I cleaned it up a little and tried it out. Lying realtor said it was broken.”

“He was prob’ly tryin’ to getcha someplace more expensive,” I say.

“Cold, cold, cold! Out of my way, out of the way!” Silver Spoon chants. She’s half-running to the hot tub in nothing but an old beach towel and something else tucked under her arm. She throws off the towel as she sinks into the water, letting out a sigh of contentment. “Ah, thank goodness…”

“What do you have there?” Di asks her.

Silvy shows off a black bottle of something that’s clearly alcoholic. “You had some hard grape juice in your pantry, and I figured, hey, it’s Hearth’s Warming Eve, let’s go a little bonkers!” She presents three curved glasses, which fit perfectly into the cup holders. After that, she tries to undo the cap, but that leads nowhere fast. When her hand inevitably turns red, she hands the bottle to me. “Could you, please?”

It’s still incredibly weird for me, hearing her asking me for favors, but I have a hankering for some grape juice as well. I grab the bottle and take off the cap with one flex of my thumb.

“Was that a twist off?” Di asks.

“Eenope,” I say.

“Jeez.”

I hold the bottle outward, aiming the nozzle to the sky. “Watch me hit Orion in the can.” I press on the cork, and in just a few seconds, there’s a satisfying pop as the cork goes flying off into the night. I can only hope it doesn’t land on somepony’s head on the way down.

Silvy stands up in the tub and holds her hands up high, making a loud splash. “Woo! Look at it go!”

Di and I turn our heads simultaneously, eyeing Silvy with the exact same look of bewilderment.

“What?” she asks, lowering her arms. She blinks a few times before she looks down and sees exactly what we’re ogling her for. In the rush of the moment when she was heading for the tub, we hadn’t noticed that she wasn’t wearing a swimsuit, or anything for that matter. “Oh. I thought it was implied that we would be skinny dipping. Was that not implied?”

I look over at Silver's body, drawn to it like a moth to flame. Thanks to the red light of the tub, her fur is a beautiful color reminding me of a pearl, and the rest of her body is an effin’ racing track, being all sensual curves, but sturdy enough to justify her job as a model. Her breasts aren’t large, but they are perfect for her narrow body, and her hips stick out with a proud femininity, drawing my attention downward to her smooth nethers. “Like a flower in a sea of lilies,” I say.

Silvy scoffs at me and points at the simmering water. “Stop being a poet and get in, before you get ice in your hooves.”

My thoughts exactly, I’m shivering here. I take a step forward before I realize something. Looking down, I tug on the collar of my tank top and see that the sacred apples don’t have any cover. “You know…” I scratch the back of my head. “It’s funny that Silvy got naked before Ah did.”

“You d—” Di points at me, her face growing more confused by the second. “Oh, for the love of… Of course Hayseed goes commando just in case a farmhand happens by.”

I glare at her. “Oh, don’t be such a prude. You’ve seen hooters at yer job.”

“Tons,” Silvy comments, leaning over the edge of the tub.

Di seems disappointed with Silvy, along with everything else in existence. She folds her arms and scoffs, not even having the humor to look at me as I grab the bottom of my tank top and begin to lift it.

Now, I ain’t one to toot my own horn, but I’ve always carried a bit of luggage around. I tend to wear loose clothes, so the girls don’t seem so large at first glance. But I like to think of my body as a silent predator, in a sense. I see a pair of jaws between Di and Silvy so wide that I have a laughing fit by the time I get my shirt off. I strip out of my jeans, exposing my furrier nethers to my former nemesi. Sadly, my figure is less like an hourglass and more like a top-heavy martini glass. My sister and I jokingly dubbed it the Appletini Curse.

Di rubs her temples and sighs. “Like an apple colored giraffe.”

I’m about to make a snide comment about that, but I’m preemptively silenced by a pat on the bum. I look behind myself at Silver Spoon’s smirking mug. Well, there’s no point in standing naked in the cold. I hop into the tub and let the warm water utterly decimate any remnants of cold on my body. It’s either the heat or the jets firing between my legs, but I’m turning more red than yellow.

Silvy leans forward eagerly as Di begins to slip her hands beneath her robe. With a tug, the robe falls to the floor, revealing Di’s smooth rouge bikini. “Aw, that’s it?” Silvy asks. “You gotta learn to live a little. Swallow your pride, baby. Put on a show!”

With a blush to rival mine, Di reaches for the back of her neck. “Alright…” With a tug on the strings, her top comes loose, revealing the second pair of smooth, silky, perky breasts I’ve seen tonight.

Silver Spoon gives a low, wolfish whistle. “This is why you can’t get a bust made, Di, ‘cause you’ve already got the best of the breast!”

Di blushes and throws her top at Silver, mock-angrily. “Oh shut up, Spoon. You know I’m only doing this because you two forgot your swim clothes… and your humility!”

“Ta be fair,” I put in, “Ah ain’t worn swimmin’ clothes since that last swim competition me an’ Granny were in.”

Di rolls her eyes as she unties her bikini bottom, letting the fabric flutter to the ground. I take a casual peek at her polished pelvis.

“Huh. Honestly, Kinda surprised you’re a shaver,” I comment. “Some folks Ah’ve seen shave it ta look like their mark, for whatever reason.” I look up at her and grin cheekily. “Nice to see you’re ‘blank’ though.”

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Kay.” I put my fingers up in a rectangle and click with my tongue and teeth. I give a whistle as I look at my imaginary camera’s negatives. “If only Featherweight was here, he could help me develop these.”

Silvy snorts at that. “Develop what? She already is, Hayseed. Besides, Featherweight’s mine.” Di’s starting to shiver, and Silver’s getting impatient. “Get in here already, Queen of Cold And Perky Nips, before you freeze everything off.”

Di lifts her long, meticulously combed legs over the edge of the tub and scoots over to the corner, obviously trying to stay as far away from me as possible. She takes one of the glasses from the cup holders. “Fill me up, will you?”

Silvy grabs the bottle of wine and does just that. The amount she pours seems a little excessive, but I can assume she’s trying to loosen Di up a little. She gives my glass the same treatment, which I appreciate. “Hooray for underage drinking,” I say, tilting my head back and letting the sweet and tart flavor run down my throat. “Woo!”

“And a yeehaw right back atcha, farm girl,” Di says as she and Silver clink their glasses and take a short pull. “I’ve been looking for a reason to break this stuff out. Thanks, Silv.”

I raise my glass, offering my thanks as well. “Now I don’t feel bad about askin’ what Ah’m about ta ask. Y’all were sayin’ about Featherweight?”

Silvy flushes. She can’t hide her red cheeks behind her spectacles. “Oh, goodness.” She takes an especially long drink, nearly emptying her glass. “That was a while ago. I needed a photographer so I could put together my modeling portfolio, and Featherweight offered up almost instantly. I swear, kid can bend light to his will. With him around, I’m gonna look young forever!”

“Ah don’t think he signed up to exercise his talents…” I say.

“Why, whatever do you mean?” Silvy says boastfully, stretching out her arms and showing off her figure. “Besides, I did repay him for his kindness during our last photoshoot.”

“Let me guess. You were doing nudes that day?”

Silvy raises her glass. “Bingo!” She drains the rest of the grape juice and quickly goes for a refill. “You know, for a lanky boy, he is surprisingly large… Not much to talk about in the girth department, though.”

“So that’s the skinny, huh?” I smirk. “Long story, but no depth?”

“Oh, give me a break…” Di grimaces.

I elect to ignore her, taking another drink and searching my memory for one of my more memorable experiences that don’t involve farmhands. That’s when I remember one of the spicier summer afternoons I’ve experienced. “Well, Ah had the estrus pangs somethin’ fierce a couple a’ months ago, and who should happen by when I was movin’ hay bales but our favorite teenage dragon—”

Silvy holds out her hand. “That doesn’t count.”

“What?”

“Look, I love Spike as much as the next pony. He’s sweet, and cute, and hung like hell, but seducing him is like playing volleyball on a tennis court.”

“Ah repeat, what?”

“Let’s face it, Hayseed,” says Di. “Spike is a total slut.” She raises her glass to her lips once again, before bursting into song. “He’s cheap! He’s easy! He’s big—”

“—and hardly sleazy!” Silvy ripostes. “He’ll fill you right up—”

“—like fine wine in my cup!” Di returns as Silver tops her off.

“He’s a dragonborn colt, but he isn’t a dolt! His chiseled, toned pecs make him a sight worth the sex!”

The two look at each other, smiling at some shared joke. “He’s got that slappable butt that I knew in my gut was a thing he could strut and with me he would rut but that all goes to shoooowww~!” They look at me and throw back their wine, before splashing me as they bring their arms down. “Heeee’s a sluuuut~!”

Silvy refills her and Di’s glasses. “So yeah, anyway...”

“What about you?” I ask Di. Her head is lolling a little, so I know she’s much more open to suggestion than she was ten minutes ago. “When was the last time somepony appraised yer diamond?”

“Huh?” she asks, stopping mid-drink.

“Ya know, polished yer pearl.” I wink at her. “Come on, Di. We’re all friends, here. Don’t leave us hangin’.”

Di pinches the bridge of her muzzle. “Okay, fine…” She lets Silvy fill up her glass again. She drains the whole thing in a few seconds. “It’s not embarrassing, but I wish I had something as good as Spike. At least he’s all stallion, in a sense.” She exhales. “Lickety Split.”

It may be the alcohol, but that takes a moment to wash over me. “Ah.”

Silvy blinks a few times before opening her mouth. “Wait. Lickity’s gay.”

Di chuckles sensually before running her hands down her body. “Oh, please. Even a twink like him has to have a gray area. Who can resist this?” She drops the naughty look. “I’m not even kidding. He actually asked me, and when I mentioned what side of the street he walks on, he told me, ‘Nopony is that gay.’”

“That makes sense, Ah suppose,” I say. “Even the straightest straight fella has that one colt they’d have sex with.”

“Yeah, like me for you.”

Silvy said that a little louder than I think she intended, causing the whole conversation to fall over dead. Even the hot tub’s jets seem a little quieter now.

Her eyes dart around behind her glasses. “Whoops.”

“Got the hots for the down n’ dirty farm girl, Silv?” Di asks, probably a little more incredulously than she’d wanted. “Should have known something was up. You blush every time you eat an apple.”

Silver blushes hotly. I suppose she’s going to steer into the skid instead of resisting it. “Well, yeah! She works out practically for a living! And while I’m not exactly lacking in ‘assets,’ I still feel like the chairmare of the itty-bitty-titty-commitee whenever I’m around you and firm ol’ Applemelons over there!”

Part of me is still stepping back from the humbling notion that one of the sexier mares in Ponyville has been harboring a crush on me, but another part wants to humor her. I slide over to Silvy, wrapping my arm around her back and squeezing her shoulder. “Well, Ah thank ya kindly, but keepin’ this figure ain’t easy. Ah can’t eat all the sugary foods Ah’d like to. Only one shake or malt a week if Ah’m lucky, for example. Ah’m out there buckin’ trees from sunrise to sunset—”

“—and bucking farmhands from sunset to sunrise,” Di adds. “And can I just say that you have no impulse control compared to me? I had to cut out coffee to maintain this lovely figure.”

“Aw, you’re so wasting away!” Silvy says in a mocking tone. "Tell that to the empty pack of donuts I found in the trash yesterday."

Di suddenly seems very interested in whatever happens to be behind her, but before she turns away, her cheeks puff up like heated marshmallows. “Well, those could have been any-"

"I sure as hell didn't eat them, and they weren't there until after you got home. You told me you were going clothes shopping.” She brushes her chin as she turns to me. “Apple Bloom, we are in a hot tub, and Di is obviously lying. Does that make Di a steaming liar?"

I ponder that for a moment, then raise a finger. "Naw, Ah think she's just in hot water!"

“Oh, please!” Di shouts, furrowing her brow. “Donuts are such peasant food! I wouldn’t be caught dead eating that slop!”

If she’s flustered now, I can’t imagine how furious she’ll get when I present the revelation that just came to me. "Goddesses... Di, Ah think Ah've figured ya out! Ya hate anythin' mildly popular, claimin' it's beneath ya. Ya never participated in group activities in school. Ya never come to Sweetie Belle's concerts or rehearsals..."

"Hayseed, shut it."

I point at her like an attorney accusing a witness. "Yer the ultimate hipster!"

It’s probably the hot tub, but I like to imagine that steam is coming out of Di’s ears. She’s a boiling volcano just about to erupt. I’m about to relax and let her cool off, but Silvy decides to stand up and take things a little further.

"Oooohhhh, is that why you loved rubbing your hips against mine when we were kids, Di? Bump bump..." she gets in close to Tiara's face, her eyebrows wiggling. "Sugar lump..." Her mouth curls into a sultry smirk, she moves her hands along her friend's arm, Tiara trying to lean away, blushing, "Rump!" Silver rears back, pulling Di up and out of the water, and slaps a hand across the prissy princess' positively pleasant-looking posterior.

"Okay, that's it!" Di leaps out of the hot tub. She tries to hide her face, but I can see her blush. She can't claim it was the tub's lights; they're currently rotating through blues and greens. "I'm toweling off. You neophytes can prune up for all I care." She stomps to the sliding glass window and slams it shut behind her.

“Well, that was huffy,” I say.

Silvy just sighs. "Her head is still adapting to the world outside of her ass."

I look over my shoulder. Di has wrapped a towel around her torso and her head. She’s turning on the television as she takes a seat. Whatever miffed expression she was showing earlier has faded away, but even so… “D’you think she’s gonna be okay?”

"Don't worry about it. She values your friendship too much to let a minor squabble get her tail in a bunch. As for me, it's nice to have somepony a little more humble to talk to." Silvy takes a swig of her hard grape juice, then reaches out of the water to wrap her arm around me again. "How about a kiss?"

It’s a little weird, but I’m not about to turn that offer down. She does look really pretty in the moonlight, and I’d hate to leave her hanging after she fessed up her little crush on me. It seems only fair that I reward her. "Only if ya think you can wrassle with me, little missy."

"Oh, trust me; my tongue is quite versatile, country girl." Her expression couldn’t be naughtier if she tried.

I drain my glass and set it on the edge of the tub. Silvy's muzzle is already touching mine as I grab her shoulder. My au naturale lips meet her smooth and luscious ones.

I don't get as many chances to kiss mares as I'd like, so Silvy is a real breath of fresh air. Even if I'm inhaling most of her breath. She anticipates where I move my tongue before I even think to move it. I wonder if she and Di practice a lot... Wow, this hot tub just got hotter.

"Mmm... this is almost as steamy as going to the day spa after hours," she moans breathily as we break apart. Before I can say anything in return, she's already attacking me, her tongue flying circles around my tongue, riding it harder than a rodeo bronco. I have to throw in my own tongue movements to counter her attacks. She pulls away again, licking my lips before she whispers, “I guess country girls are muscular everywhere.”

“Damn straight. Get back here.”

I grab the sides of her head and pull her back up against me. My thumbs find her ears, which I scratch affectionately. Her voice shudders as I do so. “Effin’ A…”

I find my back starting to slip against the side of the tub, which Silvy starts taking advantage of. I can feel her lifting her knees onto my seat, with her firm rump rubbing into the matted fur of my leg. I have to tilt my head to meet up with her mouth, which presses harder against mine as if she’s trying to force her tongue down my throat.

The answer as to why she’s being so forceful is answered by her sliding her dripping hand up my stomach and groping one of my breasts. “Meant to tell you earlier, but you have amazing tits…”

“Yeah, it’s a curse.”

She lays down another kiss, this one on my cheek. “Oh, that’s what all you big boobers say. Just take the damn compliment.” She keeps pecking me, pressing her lips to my chin, then my neck. She looks up at me, baring her teeth. “May I?”

“Hell yeah.”

She puckers her mouth over where my neck and shoulders merge, finding the least muscular area I’ve got, and bites down. From there, it’s like a miniature explosion spreading throughout my veins and ending at my crotch. I can’t help but thrust my hips at the air, creating waves in the hot tub.

Silvy releases her teeth’s grip on my weak spot and pulls away. It’s only visible through the corner of my vision, but there’s definitely a bruise there. I guess I’ll borrow one of Di’s scarves when I go back to the farm, then break out Braeburn’s makeup kit until my fur grows over the bruise.

Silvy releases my breast and my shoulder, reaching behind her head. She pulls the pins out of her hair, severing the bonds of her tight bun and causing all of her slick, silvery hair to cascade onto her shoulders. She’s revealed a side of herself I’ve never seen before. “Whatcha do that for?” I ask, my voice somewhat stuck in my throat.

“I only let my hair down on very special occasions.” She touches the peak of my cleavage with her finger, teasingly running it up and down my chest and in circles around my tits, giving me a hard squeeze for good measure. It’s tight enough to make me inhale quickly, nearly causing me to hiccup.

I reach around her back and pull her back in for another brief kiss. “Well, it looks good on you.” Our tongues continue their battle, exploring everything. She traces hers along the top row of my teeth, while I feel for the moist sides of her mouth. So much saliva.

When the kiss ends, both of our breaths are heavy and almost labored. Our eyes are lowered and our expressions are lustful. There’s only one way this can go.

Silvy licks the inside of my ear and pushes away my wet hair. Her breathy voice is coated in sweet ambrosia as she whispers, “I want you, Bloom.”

Her hips have risen above the water. I smirk, walking my fingers up her leg, then slap her on the cutie mark. As she lets out a dissonant squeak, I say, “Well, there ya go! Ah was havin’ difficulty catchin’ on, me bein’ a dumb farmgirl an’ all.”

Silvy bites down on my ear. I can feel it, but it ain’t hurting compared to what she did to my neck. “You are just incorrigible.” She stands up the rest of the way, slowly raising her amazingly sleek legs out of the water. “I’m gonna go dry off. You meet me in the guest bedroom in five minutes.”

I lean my head back. “Heh, an’ what if Ah don’t?”

She turns around in front of the door, shamelessly showing off her wet, slender body. She places one hand on her hip and the other over her breasts, both of which are laden with droplets. It’s like water is magnetized to her most attractive portions. “Or you lose me forever, Hayseed,” she purrs.

“I doubt that,” I mutter, listening to the door shut behind her. “Y’all’d just come back on your hands an’ knees beggin’ for a lick a’ the old apple…”

I look at my hands. I’ve never liked how my fingers look when my skin starts to get pruney, and I’m not about to run the risk of not looking my best for Silvy. If I’m gonna please her, I’m gonna please her right, and that means getting out of this hot tub.

I lift myself out of the water and hit the balcony walking, grab my clothes and a towel, and open the sliding glass door, stepping inside before my body can comprehend how cold it is. Thankfully, Di was nice enough to turn up the heat, so any errant cold I feel ends up disappearing in a heartbeat.

Speaking of Di, she’s doing the same as she was before, relaxing on the couch with towels covering her. I have to admit, even with her hair and body all wrapped up, she looks good. I can’t imagine how much effort goes into keeping her coat trimmed like this. I can respect her for that sort of dedication. If only she put that much effort into being a nicer pony…

“Howdy,” I say with a wave.

“Hey there, Hayseed…” she mutters. She doesn’t seem happy to see me, and I don’t think that has to do with me strutting around her apartment buck naked. Her arms are folded, her face turned away. She seems a lot more focused on the big screen. I turn to see whatever it is she’s watching.

“Daring Do Saves Hearth’s Warming Eve?” I ask in disbelief.

Di lets out a guilty sigh. “Yep. It is literally—”

“Figuratively.”

“Literally the stupidest thing in the world. The acting is horrendous, the special effects and lighting are horrible, I hate that reindeer that follows Daring around, and…” She sighs again. “I watch it every year.”

"Ah still can't believe they took a character like Holly Hooves an' turned him into a sidekick for Darin’ Do. Ah mean, up 'til the princesses were able to get to the Crystal Empire after dealing with Discord, he was the only thing keepin' the crystal ponies fightin' against Sombra. Most any foal who's been through a high school level ancient history class knows that."

Di smiles weakly. “Hey, it’s only because of you that I even passed history…”

I sit with her, finding myself getting a little absorbed into the movie. It’s the part where Holly trips over his own cloven hooves, accidentally triggering some sort of physics-defying Rupee Goldberg device that catapults a giant candy cane over a wall, somehow knocking the group of guards behind it unconscious.

"Holy horseshoes, Daring Do!" the annoyingly naive character says as they clamber over the fence. "I think these fellas just got citizen caned!"

I feel a little guilty for laughing at that. “There’s stupid, an’ then there’s stupid fun.”

“It’s the first Hearth’s Warming special I ever watched. Daddy bought it for me when I was a bratty toddler. He always watched it with me when the holidays came around.” Di plants her hand on her forehead. “I guess some traditions don’t last forever…”

“Not on good terms with Daddy Dearest these days?”

“Not in the slightest.” She leans her head back against the head of the couch. She’s still smiling, but I don’t think she’s having a happy memory. “But that’s sorta what happens when you steal your trust fund and hit the road.”

I’d likely stand up with my mouth wide open if I weren’t so relaxed. Instead, I turn to Di and ask, “What?” I try to bring out some sort of sentence demanding an explanation, but all I can say is, “How, and... why?”

“It was pretty simple, really… My eighteenth birthday came around a few weeks after graduation. Daddy had this huge party all set to go. But I wasn’t able to invite any of my friends, because, well… I didn’t have any. Not even Silver Spoon. She abandoned me, and I deserved it… So, there Daddy was, surrounded by his shareholders, ready to gift me a place in his company, along with a check for the hundreds of thousands of bits he had saved up for me since the day I was born. I set fire to a pillow in the living room, took advantage of the chaos to grab my check, ran, cashed that thing in, and bought myself this apartment.”

I stare blankly at Di as she turns to me. “Wow.”

“I know, right? Though I do regret not being able to see Daddy’s face when I sent him my first nude poster. I left a signature and a note saying that I was tired of being his perfect little rich girl, I wanted nothing to do with his company anymore, and told him not to come looking for me.”

“That’s…” I shake my head and blink several times. “Di, Ah’ve given ya a lot of sarcasm over the years, and don’t take this personally, ‘cause Ah ain’t ever had a father ta be mad towards, but... that’s, like, fifty levels of bitch.”

Di reaches over and pats me on the head with a wry smile and a roll of her eyes. “Thank you kindly.” Her smile slowly starts to disappear. “It felt good when I did it, but now I really hate myself for spitting in Daddy’s face…” She leans forward, her head falling into her hands. “I mean, he gave me everything I wanted, and I gave him a middle finger in return. Literally, I was flipping him off in the poster.”

“Ouch.”

“I guess I was just… Angry. At everyone.” She sighs, flopping back against the couch. “I think you can figure out what brought that on.”

I can definitely recall what happened before Di went on her little rampage. I remember red hair, a cream coat, a lot of yelling, the sound of jewelry shattering on the sidewalk.

“What the shit, Twist?!” I remember Di saying that as she picked up the pieces of her tiara. Her voice was shrill, with a little quiver. “I just said you look pretty! Jeez, maybe you should have been homeschooled in manners...”

“You shut up!” Twist had shouted, advancing on Di.

“Twist, hey, I didn’t mean—”

"I said shut up! I've had six months to perfect what I'm about to say, so you are going to shut the fuck up and listen! You are scum. Every day, from the moment you first set foot in this schoolhouse, you make it your personal mission statement to be a complete and total bitch to anypony who doesn't lick your hooves, shine your shoes, polish your tiara or worship the ground you walk on! That's why Silver Spoon is your only friend! I should know, she told me all about it! She's only friends with you because you have her wrapped around your perfectly groomed finger, and if she ever breaks it off with you she'll have nopony else because you turned her into as much of a bitch as you are!"

I had a feeling Di wanted to run, but she couldn’t. She was frozen in place as Twist leaned over her, absolutely spitting with anger.

"I remember. You insulted me for being a blank flank. You mocked my lisp. You called me a shovelface, a nerd, a geek, a four-eyes, anything that didn’t appeal to your standards... I remember every single time you hurt me. I'll tell you this: If I had known you’d accept me for who I am now, I wouldn’t have paid for a speaking coach, styled my mane or started eating again! You know something? I'd rather have a blank flank than a piece of jewelry for a cutie mark! Looking pretty, that's your only talent! You contribute nothing but pain and misery to everypony around you! You got that? You are not important!"

When all the students lined up to receive their diplomas, Twist wasn’t there, and neither was Diamond Tiara.

“I felt like hammered shit…” Di mutters.

“Ah’ll say. Ah dunno if ya remember, but when Ah found ya by the lake, y’all were so choked up that ya threw yerself around me.” It was miserable. She had me petting her mane and promising her that everything would be okay. By the time she had calmed down, my graduation dress had been thoroughly soaked with tears.

Di has her legs bent, with her arms tightly wrapped around her knees. “And I had it coming. I picked on a sleeping giant. It was just a matter of time before she woke up. Twist, she… Something about what she said changed me. You and the Crusaders took me down a few pegs before, but for the first time in my life, I felt completely unloved. I felt ugly. I think that’s why I became a model. Dolling myself up for hundreds of people to fawn over... I wanted to feel beautiful again.” She turns towards me. “I’m glad you’re my friend, Apple Bloom… I’ve never said this before, but if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been able to get Silver Spoon back, and then I’d really be alone… I hate being alone.”

“Preaching to the choir, Di,” I say. “Ah haven’t been been able to hang out with Sweetie or Scoots as much as Ah’d like. Ah don’t hate them for havin’ their careers set in stone, Ah just wish Ah had more time with ‘em.” I shake my head, wiping out all the negative thoughts. “Enough about me. This is about you.” I look back at Di, who looks genuinely happy now, gazing up at me with nothing but sentiment. “Anyway, feelin’s mutual, Di. You can still be a bitch, but yer a bitch hidin’ a trove of—”

“Diamonds?” she suggests with a small giggle.

“Ah was gonna say donuts or somethin’, but that’s even better. Oh, and by the way…” I scoot over to Di, lean in with my hand brushing her cheek, and give her a small kiss. “Don’t let anypony have ya convinced you ain’t anythin’ less than smokin’.”

Di wraps her arm around my back and pulls me into a half hug, something I never thought she’d ever do again. Still, I may as well accept it. Mmm… Di wears some powerful perfume. Even after that dip in the hot tub, she still smells like lilac and peaches. Along with a scent of—

“Apples?” I ask, pulling away slightly. “That’s a new one.”

And speaking of apples, Di’s face becomes a familiar hue. “Yeah, I’ve uh… I’ve acquired a taste for it.” She grins sheepishly. “Heh. Doesn’t smell as good as it does on you.”

“Me?” I ask. I raise my forearm to my muzzle and take a whiff. “Oh. Yeah, working on an orchard my whole life, that’s bound to happen. I’ll probably smell this way my whole life. I don’t even really notice it anymore.”

“It’s nice,” Di says, plain and simple.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” Her hands are squeezing my arms, as if she’s holding on for dear life. It must be cathartic for her to have something meaty to squeeze. She turns her head, pressing her muzzle into my neck and nuzzling upwards, taking in my scent as she reaches my cheek. I think it’s official to say that she’s going beyond gentle affection, but here’s the real conundrum: should I want her to stop? Because I really don’t. I like the tickle of her nostrils inhaling over the forest-like patches of my fur. “You don’t have to even try to smell beautiful,” she mutters into the ungroomed fluff of my chest.

I’m on my knees at this point, but I’d rather be sitting down. I move my legs, intending to bring them around so I can sit properly, but in doing so my knee nudges up against something soft and wet, making Di tense up and let out an unpoised gasp.

“Whoop, sorry...”

“N-no, do that again…” she asks, squeezing harder. “Please.”

Call me a stupid farmgirl, but it takes me far longer than it should to process that request. More out of curiosity than anything else, I push forward again, eliciting more noise from the normally so proper Diamond Tiara. “Hm, it has been a long time for ya, huh?”

I’d expect her to reply with some sort of defensive backlash having to do with my country lifestyle, or something like that, but all she does is nod, putting on a reluctant smile. It almost looks wrong, seeing her like this. She’s normally so stoic and implacable, at least, that’s how her pin-ups make her appear. Yet, here she is, looking fragile enough to shatter with even the slightest touch.

It’s damn lucky for her that I’m a gentle filly.

My hand slithers between the layers of her towel, gliding up until I touch the fold over Di’s bust. With a little tug, the cloth comes loose, hanging limp over her body, parted at the top. Di reaches for the towel herself, though she lets me take her hands in hers as she removes the fluffy cloth from her body, unveiling her figure to me for the second time that night. Her body seems all the more supple and tender up close. I much prefer the real deal over her posters, and her sheepish yet excited look makes her all the more appealing.

I'll take a real apple over a two-dimensional picture any day.

Di and I stare at each other for just a second before we move in for a kiss. As our lips mash and our tongues connect, I realize that a few years ago, I would have done anything to see this mare fall from grace. I hated her. But now, well, she’s outright snuggly. Sexy. Fuckable. I may not be the most feminine mare, but I’m still attracted to femininity, and now that the selfish bitch who insulted me throughout school is gone, Di is a complete belle, even as she drags her lower leg, moaning in desperation as my hand passes over her vulva.

My breasts practically devour hers. She may be the model, but no matter how good her figure gets, she’ll be no match for my set. My tits are as much an Apple family trait as my butt. Di has figured that much out. She pushes on my ass, silently telling me to move forward. My hand goes along with me, two of my meaty fingers pushing their way inside her. I finger her with strength over speed. In response, Di moans loudly, but she silences herself when she clamps her mouth over my nipple and suckles like a baby. I find myself moaning myself when she licks and drags her teeth around my areolas.

Di bucks her hips rather violently as I keep digging my fingers deeper into her folds. She’s begging for it, but she’s still too proud to ask for it herself…

“Ahem.”

I turn my head, my devious expression disappearing as I remember a previous engagement. It seems that it has come back to chastise me.

Silver Spoon stands there, buck naked, freshly clean and dry. Her hands are clasped to her hips, her fingers flexing, and her brow is cocked as she stares at me in disappointment. At least, I think it’s disappointment.

Silvy holds out her hand and waves it in a circle. “I didn’t say stop.”

I look back at Di, who chuckles innocently, and I return the action, realizing what kind of silly yet also kind of amazing situation I’ve gotten myself into.

My back hits the bed, with Silver Spoon holding my shoulders in a vice grip like I can’t believe. Who woulda thought she’d be so strong? Maybe she only gets like this in the heat of passion, or I’ve just been caught off guard, but either way, after dominating both of these fine ladies, it’s time for me to surrender.

Silvy kisses me, practically forcing her lips against my muzzle, with her tongue demanding entry. I oblige and let that slender muscle of hers gently violate my mouth. She’s a wicked sorceress with her tongue. Feeling it slithering around in my mouth is almost as good as wrapping my lips around a muscular farmhand’s cock.

My legs start to twitch, my hips squirming as Diamond Tiara slips one of her little fingers inside of me. She must be getting revenge for me being a teasing bastard, but if this is revenge, then it is so sweet. As she slips another finger in there, swirling her hand around in circles to rub down every part of my inner walls, I moan uncontrollably into Silvy’s mouth.

As the minutes tick by, Di slowly adds the rest of fingers to the mix. Silvy finally pulls away from me, allowing me to breathe. She turns to Di and rubs her arm, prompting Di to pause her fingering, much to my dismay, and bring her hands to Silvy’s cheeks for a tender kiss. Almost as if that kiss is a passing of the guard, they switch places.

Silvy kisses the insides of my leg, giving them depraved, desperate licks. My fingers are digging into my palms, it feels so good, but it’s not enough. I want her tongue someplace special.

Di gently trails her hand over my back and pushes, turning me onto my side. We kiss, but this one is far more sweet and tender than Silvy’s. It feels much less like an assault on my mouth and more like a mutual exchange of fluids. It’s still sexy as hell, though. When our lips part, our tongues stay connected, swirling together, dripping saliva onto the pillow.

I can’t lavish Di as much as I’d like, as Silvy has wrapped her arm around one of my legs, lifting it into the air, and has gone to town on my clam, wrapping her whole mouth around it, licking, sucking and breathing into me. I have to break my kisses with Di often to let out gutteral moans and gasps.

My nipples are erect, and Di has taken notice of this. She pushes down on me, forcing me against the bed again, and moves her head down. Her lips close around one of my breasts, sucking in like a vacuum. I can feel her tongue on my bare fur beneath her lips, wetting my nipples and bringing them to a fine point.

It’s an utter sensory assault. My mind already feels rent by Silvy’s oral attacks on my insides, but Di has to back it up with ministrations of her own on my breasts. With my nerves going insane from the overload of mouth and tongue ravishing my body, I cum, so hard. I can’t imagine how much fluid I’m leaking, but I do know that Di’s gonna have to wash her sheets at least twice.

“Welp, Hayseed’s out,” Di says, crawling away from my twitching body. She moves around me, slithering up to Silvy, who is sitting on her knees. Di rubs up against Silvy’s thighs, moving her body up the grey mare’s slender frame. She kisses her breasts first, following up with several small nips and pecks up her neck. While her head travels upwards, her hand travels downwards. As does mine.

“That’s naughty, Di…” Silvy’s actions don’t exactly match up with her passive voice. She sounds dismissive of Di’s fingers, but the way she gyrates her hips to meet with those pristinely pink digits says what she really thinks. Yeah, she wants her friend to fuck her with her hand.

Di’s fingers are utterly soaked in Silvy’s juices with just a single pass. As she flexes her arm, giving Silvy’s pussy a sweet massage, she reaches up and taps Silvy’s shoulder with her free hand. I have no idea what that means, but apparently Silvy does; she raises her hand to Di’s mouth and lets the elegant filly suck on her fingers. Before today, I wouldn’t have ever thought that this would be considered erotic, but… fuck, that’s hot.

I dig a little deeper into myself, letting my legs squirm and kick at Di’s blankets. I must be quite the distraction from her little servicing job, as she immediately stops fingering and sucking on Silvy. “Do you mind? Honestly, you moan like a masochistic cow on milking day.” She sticks out her tongue at me.

“Ah’m sorry, did ya two want some private time?” I ask, folding my arms and legs. “Ah thought we were having an orgy here.”

Silvy pulls Di away from what I’m sure would have been a really snippy and adorably immature comeback. She gives her a desperate kiss, filling her mouth with a sexy little purr. “We are having an orgy. So, if Bloom wants to rub out a loud, screaming orgasm while we fuck each other senseless, what’s stopping her?”

“Quiet.” Di pushes on Silvy’s stomach. Silvy doesn’t seem like she was pushed all that hard, but she plays along, pratfalling onto her back. “Spread your legs. I’mma do to you what you did to Hayseed.”

Silvy folds her arms behind her head, taking on a relaxed demeanor as she does what Di told her. “Aren’t you confident. Nopony can do what I can do, but I won’t stop you from trying… Hhhmn!~” She let out a surprised moan as Di’s tongue parts her folds. She rests her hand on her friend’s violet mane. “Oh, well… That’s certainly trying.”

“Okay, this has been bugging me all night,” I ask, my voice punctured with my own breaths; I can’t stop rubbing myself at the sight of Di’s small, glossy lips pressing up against Silvy’s puffy, moist ones. “Have y’all been doin’ the nasty in yer free time? ‘Cause it sure sounds that way.”

Silvy blushes, though I’m half sure that’s from Di spreading her slit with a single thumb. “Not even! Aaah… Okay, a little.”

Di kisses the peak of Silvy’s wettening pussy. A small trail of nectar bridges from her lips to the delicate, puffy flower that I now know she’s had experience with. “Some days we have nothing to do. We get bored, I pin her to the ground, and we take turns making each other cum… Anypony ever do that for you, Hayseed? Huh?” She sneaks a glance at me as I carve even deeper into myself.

I do remember this one time at the pool last summer… Spike told an incredibly spicy story about a little student-teacher conference he had with Miss Cheerilee (Though the metaphor falls flat with him never being her student), and the thought of his slick dragon cock ravishing my busty former teacher had me in such a fluster, Scootaloo and I traded fluids around the corner to calm down. That was fun... Now, Di and Silvy, just going at it whenever they can, that’s also one hell of an image that makes my legs bend and my body tense up.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” Silvy shrieks. She sucks on a few of her own digits as Di laps up her juices, finally bringing her tongue to the clit. She inhales, sucking down on the little nub. Heh, and Di called me loud? But her loudness grinds to a screeching halt when Di decides not to give her the satisfaction. “Argh, Di, you fucking whore!” she groans as the pink pony removes her mouth.

Di smirks. She looks nothing less than evil, kneeling next to her writhing friend. “Oh, Hayseed.” She tilts her head my way. “Finish her off for me?”

I sit up and crawl, finally having the willpower to pull my fingers out of my pussy. I wipe off my nectar on the bed; it’s already soaked in girlcum anyway, so I don’t think it’ll matter to Di. I see the desperate and moaning Silvy with her legs spread before me. While it would be easy to just lick my lips, press them up against that soaked pussy and go to town, I think I’ll do something a bit more exciting.

I lift one of my legs and rest it on Silvy’s, then do the same with one of her legs on mine. “There we go,” I say as she gets off her back. Her mane is a bit of a mess, strands falling in front of her eyes, but that doesn’t stop her from having that perfect bedroom stare, that sense of take-me-home-and-fuck-me-until-I-can’t-walk that I suddenly find so appealing about her. “Rub yers against mine, okay? We’ll cum together.”

“You are my hero, Bloom.”

I kiss her, catching her by surprise. It doesn’t take long for the shock to wear off, though, as her lips press against mine, equalizing the playing field; neither of us dominates the other. Instead, we kiss as equals. In my experience with scissoring, and I’ve had a good bit of it, I’ve learned that this is the best way to get it done.

It’s awful lucky that Silvy and I have gotten all worked up like we have, since the pink of our slits are well exposed and our clits are out in the open. All it takes is a single thrusting of my hips, rubbing my folds up against hers, to make me purr. Sweat is starting to build up on my head and chest, though Silvy somehow manages to fight back perspiration, keeping her composure despite her fluttering eyelids and gaping mouth. Her head is nodding, moving with the rest of her body. She doesn’t quite have the same lower body strength that I do, so it’s no wonder that she has to use all of herself to rub her clit into me; I’m strong enough to buck into her with just my hips.

Silvy is exhaling rapidly. I can feel her hot breath on the moisture building up on my body. I’m sure she can feel my breath as well. I’m getting so hot… Hot for her. What was just going to be a bit of humor to appease her apparent crush on me has turned into something way better than I could have planned for. I’m scissoring one of the hottest things I’ve ever laid eyes on, and it feels so good.

Her moaning gives way to small shrieks, and her eyes can’t seem to stay open. Her bucking is getting more erratic and uncoordinated by the minute. She’s not the only one; I can feel myself peaking. “Close?” is all I can manage to ask Silvy between heavy breaths.

She nods, too hot and bothered to even speak. All she can do is vocalize how amazing this is. Again, she’s not the only one. I want to tell her how perfect her curves are, how snugglable her rack is, how much I want to slap her tight, rotund, thicker-than-diamond ass until she calls me Mistress. Yet, all I can do is moan for her in my deep, country accented voice. I guess that’s good enough.

I try to stop my bucking hips, just so I can savor the moment a little longer, but I can’t. With one last thrust, my clit collides with Silvy’s, and I feel the sensation rupture my veins once again. I’m cumming, and so is Silvy. We decide to take this mutual orgasm to its grave, each of us grabbing the others’ leg (She has difficulty getting ahold of mine, there’s so much thick muscle), and mashing our vaginas, and our juices in the process, into a messy, dirty, and yet incredibly sexy mess.

When we’re done, Silvy’s upper body sways a little before falling forward, her chin landing in my sweaty cleavage. She looks up at me with her once sultry gaze, now rent from a long and cathartic orgasm, prompting me to touch her mane. I dink around with the mussy parts of her mop, brushing the odd strands out of her face.

Once our fluster finally starts to wear off, I’m able to speak to her. “Ya ain’t gonna say ya love me, are ya?”

“Celestia, no,” she scoffs. “But I like you, and you’re fucking gorgeous, and I want to fuck with you whenever I can.”

I feel she deserves a kiss for the compliment, so I provide, bringing a smile to her face. “Yeah, Ah know. Just come by any time you have a hankerin’ for this farmgirl.”

“Alright, now that we know the Hayseed’s a sweet li’l apple, can we get away from her acreage and back to my luscious fields?” Di asks.

I look at Silver Spoon with a smirk, and she returns it soon after. “I dunno, Di," teases Silvy. "I mean, you did leave me teetering there, for a bit. That’s no way to treat a friend.”

“Eeyup.” I lean forward, my legs innocently swinging in the air. “Ah’m not sure if I can trust you to give as well as you receive after that pitiful display.”

Di, now beet-red and flustered, lunges at me. “Hey! You’re the pitiful one!” With a smirk, I grab Di’s shoulders and lift her over me, landing her on her back. Before she can let out a word of protest, Silver Spoon’s lower lips are already pressed into the prissy girl’s smug face.

It only takes a single grind to make Silvy start moaning again. “Mmmm.... Di, you’re doing much better this time,” she purrs as she runs a hand along my rump. “What do you think, sexy? How’s her lady lips compare to mine?”

Oh, this is gonna be fuuuun. Di lets out a muff-muffled moan as I trail a finger along her slit. “Well, it’s much pinker, but I’d have to give it a good taste test to make any real judgement, don’t ya think?”

Again, Di makes a bunch of unintelligible noises into Silvy, which I think is only making her enjoy it even more. The grey mare keeps bucking her hips, her blush contrasting with the rest of her lusty, sadistic expression. “Aaah… Don’t fight it, Di, ooh… Just enjoy the ride while it lasts.”

I take ahold of one of Di’s smooth, slender legs and give her a lick, swirling my tongue as I trail up to her thighs. I leave a hefty trail of mussy fur and saliva in my wake. Hearing her moan at my touch makes me feel a little tingle in my crotch. Goodness, I must be hornier than I thought I was. And, for that matter, so is Di. It only takes a single brush of my tongue along her smooth pelvis to make her drain a fresh trail of marecum.

If a pussy could beg, Di’s would. I can tell; she wants me to give her my strong tongue, and not stop until me, her and the bed are absolutely drenched in her juices. Frankly, after seeing her torture Silvy, I’m okay with that. She looks so sexily vulnerable, lying prone and licking away at Silvy, who leans over and gropes her friend’s supple tits. “Mmmm, not bad…” Silvy gives her a squeeze as she peers up at me through her mess of a mane. “She’s pretty good with her mouth, Bloom. I bet yours is better by a longshot.”

“Eeyup.” I show her, pressing the flat of my tongue to the very base of Di’s slit and making circles over her folds. Her legs twitch in response, and I can hear more restrained moans trying to escape from her mouth. No doubt that only serves to please Silvy even further.

While Silvy keeps rubbing herself on Di’s mouth, she leans over to get a good look at me while I puncture Di’s sweet pussy. “Hmmm, even your tongue has muscles. Must be from sucking all that farmhand cock.” The red on her face turns an even deeper shade as I flick the very edge of Di’s clit. “Ooooh, I can feel her breathing into me.”

“You’re both gonna pay…” I hear Di mutter beneath the cover of Silvy’s nethers.

Silvy sits up once again, rolling her hips to shut Di up. “Shut up and eat, dear. Make me cum.” She casts her head back and hisses, treated to a particularly strong lick. Her whole body flows and fluctuates like water, her hips rotating and thrusting as if she were pretending to be a Saddle Arabian belly dancer. “Mmm, naughty girl. You know what I like, don’t you? You know me inside and out. I love it when you lick my—” Di opens her mouth wide open and closes her lips around Silvy’s nub. “Oooh, like that! Keep doing that, it feels so good...”

I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw steam coming from Silvy and Di’s mouths at this point. I decide to bring Di a little closer to a climax, sticking my thumbs into her folds and parting them, revealing all of her tiny clit to me. So small, so sensitive, too. I pucker my lips and blow.

“Aaah, Hayseed!” Di yells, thrusting her hips at me, giving me a faceful of vagina and coating my muzzle in her juices. It’s pretty obvious that she’s about to cum, so I’m gonna make this one count. She deserves it. I take a page out of her book and start sucking on her clit. I bury my muzzle in deep, never letting up on her, and she shows her approval by wrapping her legs around my back. “That’s good, that’s good…” I blow on her again, following up with a heavy lick. “Oh, ooooh…”

Silvy has her hands behind her head, surrendering herself to what looks like an impending climax. Turns out, I’m right; Di grabs Silvy’s cutie mark on both sides, and with a few long ministrations on her nub, she loses all control, thrashing around, unable to get a grip on anything, calling out sweet nothings to the ceiling. I rise up, keeping my central digits inside Di, and wrap my free arm around Silvy. Her body jerks against mine, trembling as she rides out her orgasm on Di’s nectar-drenched face. She keeps her arms held to my back as she removes her puffy slit from her friend, only letting go as her orgasm begins to recede.

Now free of Silvy’s punishment, Di is finally able to sit up. I snicker, greatly enjoying her lap up whatever Silvy left on her. Something tells me she’s going to need a long shower tomorrow, but at the very least, I can help her get clean.

“What are you smirking at?” she snips at me with a villainous glare.

“Oh, nothin’. It’s just that Ah’ve always pictured you like this. Lyin’ around, all flustered, wet, blushin’ and gettin’ stuff on yer face.” Before she can open her mouth, I press my lips up against her muzzle, prematurely ending whatever she was about to say. “How does it feel to be me for an evenin’?”

Di ponders that for a moment, leaning back and stroking her chin. I don’t have to wonder what she’s thinking about for long, since her face is slowly turning more red than pink. “Honestly, Hayseed… I like to think I have a bit more dignity than you. I mean, anypony with a little bit of restraint has more dignity than you. But even so, I am starting to see why you get your kicks from farmhand dicks.”

I finish that thought for her. “‘Cause it feels so damn good. Besides, Ah need somethin’ to do when I ain’t workin’ the fields or designin’ shit.”

“Oh snap, I just realized something.” Di brushes her hand across my cheek as she laughs out loud. “Hayseed, I may be a hipster, but you’re a damn hedonist.”

“The one an’ only.”

With that all said, Di kisses me, placing her other hand to my cheek. Our lips lock in a gentle competition, with us making subtle efforts to overtake the other. If this is what having sex with Diamond Tiara is like, I could get used to it. I like a little competition in the bedroom, it makes things more exciting, and in the end, nopony really loses.

I can tell that Di is far too tuckered out to let the rest of the night be anything more than this. So, with a little push on her back from me, we both fall onto the bed, our kiss breaking the instant our heads hit one of the pillows. Even after it ends, though, we continue touching each other, my fingers combing her luscious locks and her hands squeezing and kneading my muscles.

Of course, Silvy isn’t one to be left out. She lies down next to me, her head resting on her palm as she taps her pillow. It’s a mock show of boredom, like she expects me to say something to her. Ah, hell. What’s the harm in it? I beckon to her, and she responds with an embrace from behind. I can feel her wet legs pressing into mine as she nips at my neck, trailing kisses up my head until she reaches the tip of my ear, which she gently nibbles on.

This whole situation is downright hysterical. There’s no other word for it. I’m in Diamond Tiara’s bed on Hearth’s Warming Eve, being admonished with kisses and lovebites from my former arch nemesi, and I’m hugging them back. I don’t intend on letting Diamond Tiara or Silver Spoon go until the morning light. Hell, if I didn’t have a previous engagement, I’d stay with ‘em all of tomorrow. Granted, that would get me some flak from Applejack… but it’d be worth it.

If I told my younger, more immature, cutie mark-less self that she’d be sleeping with the two ponies she hated more than anything in the world, she’d probably think I had lost my sanity in a ditch or something. But that’s the beauty of life, isn’t it? You don’t intend for this sort of crazy stuff to happen, but that’s what makes it all the more wonderful when it happens. I love this. I love every second of it.

I lay one more kiss on both Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara’s heads. While the former tightens her grip on me and gets even more snuggly, the latter looks up at me and asks, “So, which of your farmhands is the most hung?”