One Last Thing Before You Go
Tomorrow everything was going to be quiet, and I knew I was going to hate it.
I knew I was going to miss her. Everyone in the house was. Pinkie Pie was the light of the household, the brightest, zaniest, most multicolored light we could have asked for, and she was going to leave the very next day. No more would we be blessed with that frazzled, puffy mane of hers or that wide, bright smile that was always bright, shining white, no matter how much sugar eroded the teeth from the gums to the base. Always white, always blinding. The pink coat that covered her bodacious form burning in a passionate… Pink.
That was what her side of the room was like. Imagine two completely different and yet bordering countries. One country, plain, simple, like the rest of the other countries that bordered it, the other, a blinding, glowing, fabulously pink place. Fabulous, now, there’s a word I wouldn’t know without her. That was our room. Our room, because me and Pinkie were twins, born the same day, her the elder one by two minutes. And she held that over me forever. She couldn’t help it.
Big sisters did that.
And even if I was the elder sister, well, she would still be Big Sister, because she took charge. The mine (for the love of the Goddess, it wasn’t a “rock farm”, Pinkie) wouldn’t be the organized place it was if it wasn’t for her. Papa relied on us for labor because he didn’t have the money for workers, but turns out that party planning skills aren’t just useful for parties. They’re useful for businesses, too, and Humble Pie Industries grew from a family to a family-owned business and the largest employer in all of Rockport.
She never took credit for it. I don’t blame her.
And now she was leaving.
Now, here I was, sitting at the edge of my bed, watching her pack up. Here I was, ever the thinner, smaller, meeker sibling, just watching her with those big purple eyes of mine. She called them big. She always told me I was the prettier one, that I just needed some confidence or something like that. That boys would totally go for straight-hair and charcoal shades, that I just needed to be able to say two words, “no” and “yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.” That’s actually five words, but this was Pinkie Pie. Trying to get her to admit that it was five was like trying to get limestone to admit it was granite.
Now here I was, watching her in a cut-off T-shirt. No pants, just panties. Frilly, white ones. They were a birthday present from her, and Ma had almost thrown a fit because they were so… Risque. At least according to her. Pinkie Pie’s hair was a little better kept for… Half a day after that. Then she became Pinkie Pie again. She…
She was beautiful and she was getting ready to leave. She wore this little yellow nightgown, one Mom had made her the next year, saying something about “this is what modest clothes look like”. Gosh, it was just the cutest thing and if you had seen it you would agree with me. She was always gorgeous. Bigger around than me, but in all the right places. Her cheeks, as stretchy as tar, her bright, shining eyes never once losing their sparkle, even when she was happy-sad or happy-angry (she was never not happy, just happy-and). I said… All the right places, and I meant it. Bigger, stronger arms, cause she pulled the most weight around the quarry (still not a rock farm). Bigger… Butt.
She had a really nice butt.
It was all squishy.
I don’t know why I didn’t have a nice butt like hers. Or a bubbly personality. Or lovely, soft, frisky hair. Or anything like hers. Just her straight-haired, charcoal-toned and monotoned little twin sister by two minutes, the shadow in her midst. Now she was leaving, and her shadow was being left behind. Me.
I didn’t want to tell her what Blinkie said, because it hurt. Me not being able to be the Big Sister. I wasn’t, if Blinkie was correct… I wasn’t really supportive. I was the supported. I knew Blinkie was going to be the Big Sister when Pinkie Pie left. She was like Pinkie Pie in a lot of ways. I wonder where I skipped out in the gene pool.
But she was beautiful and she was packing. How long have I spent on this? Too long, but I could be here all night to talk about Pinkie, and to talk about Blinkie and everything that had happened before, and me just sitting there, watching her, nibbling on a strand of my hair even though Ma told me not to. But I couldn’t help it. I was just watching that big ol’ rump of hers threaten to bust out of the nightgown with every hurried step, every desperate attempt to jam something else into the way-too-small suitcase she had borrowed from Ma from when she had seen the world, just as I would maybe see it one day.
I didn’t feel the need to. Rocks were my life. My cutie mark, my passion. Geology was a favorite subject of mine. Blinkie, eh, she hated rocks with a passion, but I loved them. I wanted to be a rock one day. I wanted to be able to just be still and wait under the many blankets of earth and stone, or better yet be a boulder and just watch ponies pass by and make up stories in my head about them. But what I was watching Pinkie do wasn’t a story. It was happening. She was going to leave.
And I really didn’t want her to leave. Because I loved her.
There she was, always teasing me with that big butt, and that kinda-smallish waist, and those city-girl ideals she brought in every time she went to town, the corset she bought one Halloween in the closet. I really liked that corset. I liked seeing her body stuffed into it and overflowing, even though it really hurt her (No, I didn’t like seeing her hurt, no, no, no, it just… Looked so… Pretty). She really wasn’t a good fit around her, at least labor-wise. Yeah, she pulled the best, yeah, she organized it the way it was, but…
She was leaving.
She was really going to leave.
“You’re really going to leave.”
She stopped mid-bounce, and I swore she stopped mid-air, but I probably was just imagining things. She turned towards me and my heart stopped, because she was straight-faced for the first time I had seen in years, though her eyes still sparkled with that… That sparkle. That sparkle I always wanted to capture and put into a jar with fireflies just to watch it burn the bugs away and leave just pure, loving, laughing sparkle.
She just… Looked at me. I hope she didn’t see me quiver. I hope she didn’t look past my eyes and see how I was fantasizing that moment. She had a really nice butt and I loved her. Like, a really nice one. Squishy, soft, yet formed. It didn’t jiggle or anything nuts like that when she walked, it just… Was. It was just there, big and bold and curvy. She also really had breasts to die for, and since she was in a nightgown, not a bra… I could see them jiggle.
I liked watching her breasts jiggle. I once accidentally dropped a crateful of rocks one day when she forgot a bra and was just bouncing by in more ways than one, skipping and jumping while her breasts jumped with her. That was the closest I got to heart failure at age fourteen. Now here I was at seventeen, and she was really going to leave.
“Yepyep,” she said, quietly, nodding. She never said anything quietly, nodding. This was a problem.
“It’s not another joke.”
“I’ve been planning this for weeks and weeks and weeks, silly! Seventeen, I’m off to be seen!” she giggled. Good. Giggling. Back to regularly scheduled programming.
“You have?”
“Yeah,” she said. “You didn’t notice?”
I did. I just tried not to think about it, because I loved her and she was beautiful on the outside, and on the inside, always laughing, always bubbly, always just able to keep her chin up, find a way out of a bad situation. That was how knew she was beautiful and I was in love with her.
“I guess not,” I mumbled.
“Mumble fumble!”
Mumble fumble. Pinkie Pie was trying to get me to break my habit of not speaking loud and clear, so she said mumble fumble whenever I mumbled and refused to extend the conversation beyond that if I kept it up. I hated mumble fumbling, but she reveled in it. It was just another one of her word games. She liked her word games, and I did too.
“Sorry.”
“You’re supposed to say ‘mumble fumble’ back, Lil’ Sis!”
I sighed. “Mumble fumble.”
“Mumble fumble! Say it twice!”
“Mumble fumble mumble fumble.”
“No, no, no,” Pinkie Pie giggled. “Mumble mumble fumble fumble! Like that!”
I loved her.
I didn’t love mumble fumble. I just liked it. So I cursed under my breath when she made it all complicated, and her face fell again. Twice, I saw her expressionless, and twice, I wanted to cry again, because I was seeing her when she was going to be gone the next day, and she was sad. I didn’t want her to go, but…
But she had to. So she was going to go and there was nothing I could do about that.
“Inkie,” she said, quietly.
I stopped breathing.
“Inkie, what’s wrong?”
I just watched her. She stood with Rock-Em Sock-Em Robots stuffed under her arm, the blue one’s head popped up, her head tilted and her frizzy, lovely pink mane swinging a bit from the force of her tilting it, her eyes still sparkling, me just drinking in the sight of Big Sister and how really, really, incredibly beautiful she was and how much I loved her.
“I don’t want you to go.”
She didn’t move. Or react. She just stared back at me.
She looked back with those sparkling, lovely eyes of hers, and our eyes met in the middle, and I never wanted to break that contact. I wanted to be there, forever, holding my breath to stay solemnly silent in the presence of this pink goddess in front of me, the hem of her nightgown barely past her crotch, and if you looked real close you could see her… Her treasure, we’ll call it, nestled safely between those big thighs of hers, which at that moment smushed together and just gave her this… I don’t know. Were my eyes trailing down there? I loved her, it wasn’t weird, right?
Her face, Goddess, her face, I loved it. Puffy, pretty cheeks with a nigh-permanent blush from all the running around and the talking she did, a jawline so soft and gentle you could sleep on it, her nose perfectly formed and proportioned, and those lips, oh, Goddess, I dreamed of those lips at night, I wanted to own those lips. One time I stole a kiss from her, late, late at night, when I had woken up very scared. I was thirteen. I went over into Pinkie’s bed like I usually did with a nightmare, and… And I just did it. I kissed her while she was asleep. She didn’t react to it, so I guess she never knew, and I loved her for that.
And this face, the face I adored, was looking at me with concern. Concern and Pinkie Pie are not two things one wants to see in the same sentence. Especially not me, because I loved her so.
She put the Sock-Em Robots on top of the overflowing suitcase, and flopped down on the bed.
“C’mover here, Inkie-Winkie. Talk a bit with Auntie Pinkie.”
My heart went with my breath and it stopped. Pinkie Pie had asked me to go to her side of the room. Like I said before, it was like stepping into a whole new world, with a whole new set of rules. The most I had for decoration was maybe a picture of me and her, together, as babies, and I was booping her on the nose with a hand. Ma said that was probably the only time I ever put Pinkie away. Maybe I’ve regretted it ever since.
No. That’d be silly. But I felt so silly then. I felt unworthy. So unworthy. It was as if every pat on the bed just made me a bit smaller. And I was smaller than her. She was taller and bigger and I was… Small. Small breasts, small butt, small, meek personality, and a small mouth that never moved past one neutral expression, the one that always said what I wanted to say, and what I always said was “I’m not sure I should be here, I need some direction, I need somepony else to help me, and it better be Pinkie Pie, because I love my big sister more than most little sisters should love their big sisters.”
She was the Big Sister. Blinkie’s model and my obsession. She patted the bed again and I couldn’t bring myself to go over to her. I knew I’d say something stupid, or worse yet, do something stupid, just like the one night I kissed her. I felt those soft, warm lips pressed up against mine, and even though she was asleep and she didn’t remember it, I knew it was stupid, I knew I had no right or reason to do it beyond that I loved her. I just curled my knees up to my chest, sighed, and kept looking into her eyes.
They still sparkled, even as she frowned. And it wasn’t the friendly “oh Blinkie is hiding in the closet” frown, it was the “oh no what is going on” frown that I never liked to see on her face. It pained me almost physically to look away. Looking away was always the worst part, because with Pinkie Pie, you had to look again to make sure she was real, she was so godlike and luscious and wonderfully bubbly. I guess she split the difference, because she got up and sat next to me. Pinkie Pie sat next to me, in that too-small yellow nightgown, clinging to her flesh. I closed my eyes instead of looking down at those wonderful, fuzzy, perfectly, well, pleasingly proportioned thighs.
I wanted to take my hands away from my elbows and run them up those thighs. If I had even a fraction of her daring, I knew I would do it. I knew I would push her over onto the bed and kiss her and just… Hold her. Fondle her. Explore that vast expanse she had given me to explore. Well, not yet. That I wanted to take to explore.
But it wouldn’t happen. I just froze, my eyes closed, and wished she was gone. It wasn’t what I wanted to do, but I did it, because I was afraid of what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to hurt her like that.
“Inkie… Please. I’m your sister. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“No,” I muttered.
“C’mon, Inkie, you know me! I listen to all kinds of stuff! Even if it’s dumb as rocks, well, I mean, I talked to some rocks and they’ve actually some pretty good ideas, and you know they’ve gotta be smart if they can keep out rain and snow and stuff!”
She stopped for a moment, quickly gasping in a breath, watching me for a reaction. I buried my head into the crook of my elbow. I loved it when she gushed like that, too. I just liked watching her mouth move when she did it. I liked watching it almost burn away the lips it was attached to, lips that trilled and pressed and pushed out sounds squeaky and juvenile yet… Wise. It was childlike wisdom, I think, that she had, that she always pushed out from those perfect lungs out of that perfect mouth. I wanted that mouth. I wanted to look into it, to feel it talking into me, every detail becoming one with my own. I wanted to learn to talk like her.
I couldn’t watch that time, because she was leaving.
I just kept my face in the crook of my elbow. And she just kept frowning, throwing an arm over my shoulders, pulling me in close, and I wonder if my brain stopped then, because she was holding me close. Like a sister. Not a lover. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But for then, it was okay.
“Inkie…”
“No,” I hummed.
“Pretty please? I just wanna help.”
I knew she did. And I wanted her too. But I was afraid of what I wanted, so I merely shook my head in my elbow, holding myself even closer in a ball. Pinkie sighed, pulling me in tighter. Everything was tighter. My defense, and her offense of the hug she gave me at that exact moment. She really did want to help. And maybe she was. Maybe just sitting there, not doing a thing, listening to her heartbeat in my ear, still being able to hear it through the fluffy pillows of her…
She had nestled the top of my head into her breasts. Unconsciously, but my face still flushed bright red. Good thing I hid it, right?
“You wouldn’t get it,” I sighed.
“Like I said. Stupid Queen of Equestria here! Nothing you could say could possibly be dumber than I! Heh, you know, I always wondered why they said I and not other things but–”
“Ugh.”
She went quiet again.
Then she grinned, wide and broad and beautiful, and I didn’t want to spoil it by looking at it. She leaned in, close to me, nestling her chin on my shoulder, and now I could smell her. Everything about her. She smelled like lemons, which would be odd to some, but to me, I knew why she smelled like lemons anyways, because today was her last work day and she made all of the workers lemonade. Like this last night with her, the lemonade was bittersweet, this embrace was bittersweet. I could feel her breath tickling my ear, and it twitched, just a little bit, instinctively blocking away the warm air she puffed down into it. She could do mine work for hours and never seem out of breath, but then, you would listen to her, closely, and you could hear it, a little panting noise.
“Mumble fumble,” she whispered.
I looked up from my arms, looked into her face, and saw that grin again as she pulled away, he body shaking in the giggles she was trying to hold in so desperately, like how I was trying to hold in the tears I was going to shed. She was so sweet. I’d never get her back for a long, long time. I was going to miss every single night she couldn’t be in the bed beside mine, sleeping gently, peacefully. She was so quiet when she was asleep, and she always fell asleep so quick, completely drained by her demeanor. I never fell asleep very fast, but I knew that when she was gone, I would be watching the bed beside me, sitting empty, and not be able to sleep ever again.
I didn’t realize I was crying until she pulled me into her chest.
“Hey, shhhh, hey, c’mon, Inkie, I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
She was so nice to me. I couldn’t let go. I let that be literal, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her in, tight, pressing myself into that lemonade scent and not letting one whiff of it escape, even as I stained her body with tears. She was here. I was holding her. This would have been a perfect time to tell her, but I was scared, so scared, and that was part of the reason why I held her so tightly. That frazzled mane of hers wouldn’t be resting on that pillow. There wouldn’t be those nights where she would have dreams, and she made noises in her sleep, noises so quiet you couldn’t hear them unless you were listening.
I was always listening, and I would listen no more.
“Inkie, you need to turn that frown upside-down. I’m not gonna be gone that long! I’m just going around exploring and stuff! It’s like old times, you know? Except… Alone.”
She was quiet for a bit. I stopped crying. My face was wet and my eyes were red and puffy, and they didn’t have that sparkle that hers had. She sighed.
“I need to tell you a secret, Inkie.”
“What?” I murmured, pulling myself even closer, letting those pillows on her chest squish up against my head. She thought nothing of it. She shouldn’t have. I hope she didn’t.
“I’m really, really, really, really, really, super really really nervous. Scared, even. I mean, I’ve never been anywhere past Sedimentary Sentimental Gorge, and that’s what, maybe a ten, twenty minute walk from town? I’ve got all sorts of stuff for emergencies, don’t get me wrong, I even have an emergency kit in case there’s an emergency with the emergency kit, and in case there’s an emergency with that emergency kit I’ve got an emergency emergency kit for emergency’s with the emergency kit that’s being used in case there’s an emergency!”
She glanced over to suitcase. “Huh. Maybe I should only have an emergency kit for emergencies with the emergency kit. Save space.”
“Pinkie…”
“Right. Uhm, Inkie, the truth is, well… I’m set for an emergency. I’m ready. But I’m a teeny-weeny bit scared that if something goes wrong here at the homestead, I won’t be able to be here to help sort it out, y’know?”
I nodded, nestling my head further into those perfect breasts, squeezing around that delectable waist a bit tighter. She was right? What if something did go wrong? Who would handle it? Inkie was too young, Pa and Ma were too old, and I was… Well, I was me. Scared of my own shadow, scared of admitting anything to anypony, just quietly working as hard as I could, even without the threat of reprimand or corporal punishment of any kind, even though I would get help and empathy for making a mistake. I made no room for it. I wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt of the mistake that admitting my love to her would be, or acting upon that growing, glowing lust I had for her, that I hoped in my deepest, darkest thoughts she shared even slightly.
“I know it’s gonna be tough, Inkie, but I need to ask you to be Big Sister now.”
I gasped, pulling myself from my tight embrace of her perfect form.
“What?”
She smiled widely, blindingly, right in my face, too focused and too close to make me look away. “You heard me. Can you do it?”
“Pinkie, I… No! You know I can’t, I’m…”
“Super nervous and jittery and quiet and can barely talk to her own Big Sister who’s now formerly a Big Sister because you’re the Big Sister now and now you’re going to have to know how to come out of your shell and talk with other ponies and be able to lead and organize and all that stuff that comes with being a high-ranking member of Humble Pie Industries and have to remember everypony’s birthdays and everypony’s counting on you to be super-duper capable of bringing a super-duper good feeling super-smile to their grease-coal-and-sweat-soaked faces?”
She took in a deep breath, then let it out.
“You’ll do fine,” she quipped with a nod, giving me a supporting squeeze. “I know you will.”
“Pinkie…”
“Mumble fumble.”
“Pinkie, I can’t be like you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to be,” she cried. “You just have to be you, but with more confidence! There isn’t a thing wrong with being all super-quiet and stuff, but when you head out to the farm–”
“Mineshafts.”
“Sorry, keep getting those mixed up! But farm! You head out there, and you sorta zone out, and I catch you looking at me sometimes like you’re all in awe and surprised by everything, and you don’t need to be! Just turn to the fella next to you and flash him a smile! Ponies just love a friendly supervisor and it really helps to have happy guys working for ya! Oh, and be sure to keep Pa posted on the radio, and, oh! Mister Picket’s birthday is tomorrow so he’ll probably want a complimentary cake, so I have the recipe in my recipe book and that’s downstairs and… Inkie?”
She knew.
She knew I stared. She knew all about it. Maybe she saw my eyes wavering to her most complimentary places. She saw me eying up my own sister, looking over her, taking in every detail of that wondrous rear and a magical, eye-stealing bust, and the chubby, kindly face above all of that, with the sparkling eyes that sparkled even then, at that very moment where I stared at her in awe, unable to close my jaw.
“...How long?”
She tilted her head. “Huh?”
“How long have you known that I’ve been staring?”
“Oh, ever since it started like five years ago. Gosh, I think, huh, you’ve looked over at me at least three-million, eight-hundred twenty three thousand, five hundred and two times! You just seem so lost and I was gonna ask you about it, but then the job offer from Sugarcube Corner came through and, well, I’m outta here!”
I sniffled, trying to hold back the tears.
“Pinkie! You’re not s-supposed to know!”
She pulled me into another hug, but I pushed her away. She looked hurt, the twinkle in her eyes diminishing as she helplessly watched me cry into the bedsheets.
“Know what?”
Her voice was tiny, distant, soft for once, not one crack, not one bright tone. I had never heard this voice from her before, and I never wanted to hear it again, but I couldn’t stop crying to make her stop using it. I wanted to. I hated crying, the snot-nosed, pathetic little creature I was on the bed, shivering and sobbing and wanting her whole life to be over. I didn’t want that to be me. I never wanted that to be me. But that was me, and she sat on the edge of the bed and just watched.
I just kept bawling. It was all I had the capacity to do. It felt like millenia before I could stop, tears drying against my cheeks and wetting the bed around my head, my eyes bleary and unable to see anything, but she just sat there and waited for it to be over, patiently, quietly, more quietly than I had ever seen her before. She put a hand out, placing it on my shivering shoulder, rubbing into it, and I stiffened at her touch.
“You okay now?”
I nodded, dumbly.
“Just tell me.”
I swallowed.
“I love you.”
“Well of cou–”
“Not like a sister, I love you, like, as a… Lover.”
She was quiet. I tried to swallow again, but my mouth was dry.
“Pinkie, I… I’m sorry. I never thought this would happen, but it did, and I know it might creep you out a bit, but it’s… It’s what’s wrong with me. I don’t want to be you. I don’t want to take your place. I just want you to be here. I wanted, maybe, someday, to tell you in a good way, to tell you when I felt ready, but I know I’ll never be. But I know that I never wanted to do this, to creep you out and make you feel like I was some sort of creeper who just wanted your body, like all of those boys downtown–”
“You know about that?!” Pinkie blurted. She covered her mouth with a hand then shook her head, seeing me tear up again. “Oh, no no no, keep going…”
“Okay,:” I muttered, sniffing. “I… I just… Pinkie, you make me feel so happy and I just want to be happy forever, but you’re leaving, and… And I’m not sure that once you’re gone, you’ll still love me like a sister and I’ll still be able to love you like I do, from far away, never able to tell you because if I ever did, you would hate me forever for it. That’s not what sisters do and that’s not what lovers do, and… And I’m really sorry.”
She smiled.
It was the kind of smile you long to see and never want to see, so sweet and kind and comforting, but sad, the sort of smile that I knew probably pained her to put on her face, a smile she didn’t want to smile, a smirk that told of the disbelief and, probably, the disgust she was feeling at that very moment. Disgust for me. Disgust for my disgusting fantasy of me and her being more than what we were, being more than what we ever could be, disgust for the kissing and the fondling and the… I didn’t even know what. I just wanted everything with her that the boys in town wanted but only got a taste of, only got a fraction of the feeling of, the part of it that no doubt I went though, I couldn’t help going through at the sight of a body that ponies would die for a chance to even touch with the tip of a finger.
Oddly, it was the smile that calmed me down, that kept my eyes on her beautiful, cherubic little face, that kept me on edge, waiting for her to say something.
“You could have told me sooner,” she whispered, the hand on my shoulder snaking down, sending shivers up my spine.
“Don’t be,” she murmured, scooting closer. “Don’t be. This…”
Her hand was on my forearm now, still going down, her body getting closer, closer, against mine, shoulder to shoulder, plushy flank against stringy flank, my whole body shivering, and I didn’t know why, or what she was doing. I expected her to push me away, to send me to my own bed, to hate me forever. I don’t know why, I just did. It’s what I would have done, maybe. No. Not if it was her. If it was her, I would be…
I would be kissing and holding and fondling and just, just trying to enjoy that one last night we could ever possibly have, ever possibly endure to have, that one last night where everything happened, where the confessions and the crying happened but everything else, everything else would just be wonderful, just make me feel so bright and lovely and beautiful inside, beautiful like she was.
Her hand held mine. I lost my breath.
She had nice hands. Soft ones, broad, smooth palms with dainty fingers, not too thick, not too thin. They dwarfed my tiny, calloused hands, easily holding it, lifting it from my thigh over to hers.
She was letting me touch her. Good Goddess, I was touching Pinkie Pie. My hand was on her thigh, moving up and down, not gripping or anything, just touching it, trailing over it, feeling her coat beneath my fingers, soft as mink and just as pink. I tried to breath, but it was impossible, my eyes closing and my breath catching in my chest, never wanting to leave this perfection, her body turning into mine, still letting me unconsciously caress her, her head leaning onto my shoulder, nuzzling into it, a low hum coming from her lips and drilling into my barely-functioning brain. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. I was running my hands up her thighs just as I had always wanted.
“P-Pinkie, I, I, I, I…”
“You shouldn’t be ashamed of it,” she whispered.
Her voice, Goddess, there was none of her usual over enthusiastic excitement, but something I had always craved to hear, a tone sultry, a tone low and filled with… With lust, the same lust I felt at that moment, that same wanting, that same desire that I had for her, that I always had for her. It was a beautiful voice. I wanted more of it. I wanted to spend all of my life just listening to that tone, so conspiratorial and naughty and yet… Honest. She gave me what I wanted. I could have died in that moment and have been completely fulfilled.
“I… I maybe feel a teeny-weeny-eensy-bitsy the same way, kinda,” she murmured.
No.
This wasn’t true. This wasn’t, this couldn’t have been true. I pulled away, abruptly, scooting away, and she matched my movements. I looked away from her. I had to.
“Inkie?...”
“No…”
I couldn’t take it anymore. All of it was teasing and terrorizing, all of it couldn’t have ended like this, ended at this one final night. I couldn’t do this. I wasn’t like her. I wouldn’t do this. I was at the edge of the bed now, and I turned my back to her, shivering, crossing my arms against my aching stomach, trying to breath again. This wasn’t right. What she was doing to me. What I was doing to her. What we were about to do to each other…
“No…”
“Inkie, please, you don’t have to be afraid of it.”
“But I am!” I cried, hopping to my feet and turning to the bed, turning towards her, but my eyes turned towards the floor. “I am! I’m not going to take this, Pinkie!”
“Take what?!”
“This… This! You! I know you just want to make me feel better! I know you… You really want me to be happy, but guess what?! I’m not! I’m not like you! I’m your twin but I can’t just, y’know?! I can’t! I’m not… I’ll never be… I’m not…”
I sunk to my knees. “I’m not happy. I’m not you.”
“Oh, Inkie,” Pinkie murmured.
“It’s true! I… I don’t know. I guess I’m just… I dunno, I…”
She crawled over the bed, slowly, gently, hopping down and pulling me up by the shoulders, looking into my eyes with those big, blue, lovely irises, and I couldn’t escape, I couldn’t stop looking into them. There wasn’t an expression on her face or mine. There was just a moment there, a stunned one, and my arms fell from my aching stomach.
“Oh, Inkie,” she murmured again.”
“Pinkie…”
“You know, that’s why I love you.”
“You don’t–”
She cut me off with a finger to my lips.
“I do.”
I looked away from her eyes, because they said it too, and then I would have to admit that it was true, that this was coming true. She lifted my chin with a hand, and it wasn’t possible to look away now. I hated it. I hated the sincerity. I hated not being able to hide anymore, hide behind rocks or work or conversations or even silence. Silence worked against me, worked to keep me looking into those deep, light pools of excitement and laughter and happiness that I never wanted to dive into, to drown into.
I didn’t realize her head was moving forward, that her eyes were closing, that I was doing the same.
Not until our lips connected and my brain shut down.
Oh Goddess she was kissing me oh Goddess she was kissing me oh Goddess she was kissing me oh Goddess. We were kissing. She was awake this time. Oh Goddess. Her lips were so soft, sensual, simply scrumptious and this scandalous embrace was just too much at once. Oh Goddess she was kissing me. I had no idea what to do, my brain completely and utterly dismissing all thought, everything just that one, single image, her eyes closed and her lips against mine, no pursing or puckering, but lips pressed against lips. Oh Goddess she was kissing me, she was feeling me against her, thin, unlovely lips against her glorious ones, the ones like the rest of her, voluminous, in control of the uncontrollable. Oh Goddess, I prayed and hoped that it would happen and that it would never happen and here it was, here I was, kissing her, feeling her, oh Goddess, she was kissing me, feeling me, choosing me, me who was unworthy to even walk the same ground she did.
Oh Goddess.
When she pulled away, I stayed still, leaning into her body, my back against her chest and my head leaning against her shoulder, unable to even blink. Time was meaningless. What was going to happen tomorrow was meaningless. The only thing that mattered was that she had chosen me. She had chosen me, unworthy. She wanted me. She kissed me, oh Goddess, she kissed me, and it didn’t matter if anything else would happen that night, she kissed me. I needed to say something.
“Holyfuck.”
That worked, I guess. Pinkie hummed a giggle, nuzzling into my neck.
“Not yet, sillypants. I wanna enjoy the moment first.”
“You kissed me,” I murmured, as if neither of us hadn’t noticed.
“Yep.”
Reality seeped in for a moment. “What if Ma or Pa–”
“They won’t hear us.”
“Hear what?”
“Oh, nothing. Just me, making you cum so hard that the windows shake, Lil’ Sis,” she whispered, her voice low, lustful.
“Making me what.”
“You heard me! Or maybe you didn’t and that wasn’t a rhetorical what at all, that was a what-what where you didn’t quite hear what I said so you asked me what I said. Actually, no, that was a what rhetorical what, right?”
“...What?”
“Right!”
“Pinkie!”
“What?”
I couldn’t move.
I just couldn’t. Nothing could compel my muscles to make any sort of movement. I laid there, on her chest, still as a statue, in complete disbelief. Not only did Pinkie love me, not only did she kiss me, but she wanted me the same way I wanted her sometimes, the same way I wanted her behind bars and down drafty, empty shafts where nopony went down anyways, a hand down my pants and groping myself, utterly shameless, wishing in some ill-wanted part of my brain that she’d find me, that we’d…
We’d do what we were doing. And it was here, within my grasp, and I didn’t want to grasp it, literally and figuratively.
“Let’s just… I mean…”
“I can’t think of a better time than now,” Pinkie murmured, kissing the top of my head. “I mean, I’m leaving in the morning, right? What if we don’t get this chance again? I mean, I’ll write a lot and stuff, but I mean, physical contact and stuff! If we’re in love, you know, you’ll want that, I’ll want that especially because you know me! Hugs and kisses and occasionally blowjobs or a quickie or something if it’s a really, really good friend and they’re really, really down but you’re a true lover, Inkie. You’re who I’d want to spend my life with.”
I looked into her eyes. Light blue. Sparkling, as always, now a bit wet. Sincerity in the irises.
She spoke the truth.
I felt my heart sing at that. I felt it burn to leave my chest. It was as if her saying that, her letting me know that we really could be, that we really were, that we really would be forever and ever, no matter who she was with or in what way, that it pushed away my inhibitions, that it gave me new resolve. I felt the strength returning to my muscles, and I twisted around, pushing her down to the bed. She let out a little eep, this cute little squeak of a noise, and giggled, Goddess, did she giggle, playfully rolling in my grasp, her thick, strong wrists not resisting no matter how much her body faked it.
“Naughty,” she squeaked, making me blush.
I just stood over her, hovering, my face blank as my mind was.
Oh fuck. I didn’t know what to do.
“You don’t know what to do?”
I nodded, swallowing. “I… I’m so sorr–”
“Oh! No, Inkie, it’s totally cool! Everypony goes into their first time thinking they got it, but most get cold feet and stuff! It’s how I was my first time!”
I let go of her wrists, instead straddling her waist, and she sat up to nuzzle my shoulder.
“What do I do?” I murmured.
She giggled, nipped my ear, and whispered into it.
“Let’s get out of these clothes, Inkie. We gonna do you au naturale.”
Oh.
I played with the hem of my T-shirt a bit, biting my lip, unsure. If she did accept me for who I was, I mean, she’d want to see my body, right? But I didn’t want to disappoint her. I loved her too much for that. I couldn’t show her what wasn’t there, a flat chest and a flat rear and a stomach that was lean but not really flat, a bump in the road above my hips. I couldn’t show her that disappointment.
“Y-You’re sure?” I stammered.
She nodded so fast I swear there was a rocket strapped to her muzzle.
“Like, totally sure?”
“Yep!”
I shut my eyes, leaning back. I loved her. I couldn’t do this to her.
“But Pinkie, I’m…”
“Scrawny?”
I nodded, dumbly, keeping my eyes closed, lest I see her face and start crying and sobbing and sniffling like a little bitch again. How could I been so selfish? How could I have wanted her body so desperately I ignored the downsides of mine? How could I have done that to her? It was more than I could bear, doing this to her, being on top of her and letting my emotions run high like this. To even suggest she would have… Have sex with me…
But she put her hand on my chin, raised it up, and used that distraction, that one swift little moment, to grab my shirt from me and start pulling it up.
“Raise your arms, silly filly,” she giggled.
Speechless and somewhat horrified as I was, I complied. I don’t really know why. She was using that tone in her voice again, that silky tone nopony else had heard from her mouth. It drove me, egged me on, made me ignore my own squealing brain. I pulled my shirt up, just as she wanted, waiting for the disappointed reaction I knew I was going to get, my ears to the floor and my eyes looking upon my insignificant breasts. She was the Big Sister, after all. Big in all the ways I could never be.
But still, she reached up, cupped a breast in either hand, and squeezed.
I gasped. She squeezed hard, but never hard enough to hurt, simply leaving behind a marking on me, my eyes opening wide and clenching shut and opening wide and clenching shut again. She just kneaded into my chest like it was dough, as if to draw out the evaluation that I knew the inevitable conclusion of. I wasn’t a goddess like her. I wasn’t anywhere near as divine. I could only gasp and wheeze as she played with my helpless body, only wait an agonizing wait for her judgement.
“Sexy,” she breathed, giving an especially hard squeeze that made my entire body clench.
I didn’t have time to be surprised by her conclusion. Her thumbs played with my nipples, forcing them out, forcing them into the rolling grasp of her palms, a shade of pink underneath the fur where she had been playing with me. I was shivering, but I had never felt this warm before, being fondled by my own Big Sister, the one I adored more than anything in the world. I never thought it would be like this. I never thought this would have ever happened.
Cautiously, carefully, my own hands ran over her body, trailing over her sides, feeling soft fur and flesh brush underneath my fingertips. She was giggling, still, ever so slightly, ever as bubbly as usual, the little tremors in her body bringing the smallest bit of… Of confidence to me. I felt confident. I actually knew what I was doing now. I actually could do this. I could do this. I came to the base of her those big, bouncy breasts, perfect puffs of flesh against her chest, my thumbs hooking underneath them and the rest of my hands slowly, shakily coming around. I could do this.
“Returning the favor, Lil’ Sis?”
I didn’t say anything, nodding my head unconsciously, gently wrapping my fingers around her boobs and squeezing.
“Eep!”
I smiled, closing my eyes.
Her breasts felt even better than they looked. So soft to the touch, giving in to spindly fingers, spilling over in between them. I wasn’t fondling her too hard, but the satisfied coos and hums of Big Sister underneath me told me that I was doing decently. While my hands played with perfect flesh, hers traveled away from my chest, tracing little circles down my body, slowly, slowly, almost tickling but not quite. With my eyes closed, everything was touch. Warm breasts beneath my fingers, the tantalizing touch of her hands, trailing, tracing, weaving a path across me, behind me, resting on my lower back for leverage as Pinkie pulled herself up and came in for a kiss. Soft lips against mine, fully, pushing against one another, the sweet sounds of little snaps of saliva between us and the mumbled moans and grunts. I felt her hands trailing down further, felt my face flushing as I knew where she was headed.
I bet she put all the strength her fingers could muster into squeezing my rear, but my squeal was silenced by her mouth over mine, her tongue slipping in, that same tongue wrapping around my own and rendering any speech impossible. I was helpless on top of her, unconsciously playing with her, while she squeezed and fondled and appraised my rump, rolling her hands around as if cartographing every inch of butt she could. I was glad that her face was too close to see mine glow bright red. Her tongue was masterful, mine sloppy and inexperienced, and there was nothing I could do but submit to her, slumping into her body and pushing us both to the bed. My arms left her breasts and tangled themselves behind her neck, hugging her, our breasts smushed against each other, sensitive nipples pushing into each other, squeaks and moans and grunts going back and forth between each other.
I pulled away from her kiss, my tongue hanging from her mouth and mine, saliva bridging between us, my eyes completely incapable of being opened. Nothing was said, nothing could be said. I wanted to freeze time and make this moment mine forever, the moment where I opened my eyes ever so slightly and looked into her sparkling ones, looked upon her panting face, smiling broadly despite her open mouth.
“I love you,” I sighed, rolling my hips up into her touch.
She giggled. “Well, duuuuh.”
There was nothing else to say, so we let the silence speak for the both of us.
We pressed together our bodies, warm, eyes shut gently. Sleep never came close to either of us. We were so alive at that moment. Too electrified by each other’s presence. The sound of Pinkie’s pulse against my ear as I nestled against her shoulder, the smell of her breath, minty, recently brushed teeth that would have gleamed in what little light the lamp provided. We waited for no particular reason, love hitting us light two respective freight trains and sending us into the most delightful shock.
We were here. Together. It was too much to handle. I couldn’t even cry anymore I was so happy. She was the Big Sister. She was here, for now, and for always. She would guide me, she would protect me, she would be my angel forever. Whenever I needed her. Whenever I wanted her. I had loved her from afar for so long. Who could say that I couldn’t do it again?
She squeezed my rump again, a gentle reminder that for now, I didn’t have to love her from afar. For now, we could finally be close. I opened my eyes, looked into those sparkling ones again, and smiled.
“Ya ready, silly filly?”
I nodded. She giggled yet again.
“Then roll over and let me show you how it’s done, Pinkie Pie style.”
I started to roll, but Pinkie took ahold of my shoulders and rolled with me, getting on top with me underneath her. It was as if the added weight made the bed softer, made it feel lighter, made the normally firm mattress soft underneath me like it was made of cloud. Pinkie, too, felt lighter than maybe she should have been, but maybe I was too distracted by her kisses against my neck and shoulder to really notice how much she weighed.
Come to think of it, that was one of the two things I could focus on. Pinkie’s kisses, so soft, so sensual against my body, and the growing heat between my legs, and the perfect hand trailing down my legs, the perfect thumb hooking into my panties, pulling them down, making me bite my lip.
“Oh fuck.”
She looked up at me and smiled.
“Ooh! That sounds like fun! And you know how much I love fun!”
I opened my mouth to reply, but then she began struggling out of her nightgown.
Her amazing, wonderful, unbelievably sexy body was shrugging and squirming out of the big yellow garment, the most adorable grunts and squeaks coming from inside the fabric as she pushed herself out like a beautiful caterpillar out of a beautiful cocoon. I was enraptured, watching her flank jiggle and her body shift on top of me, her weight becoming apparent for a mere moment, enough for me to grunt along with her.
“Pinkie?”
“Wha?”
“You need help?”
She wriggled a bit more, a giggle filtering through the cotton. “No no no! I got this! No worries! Just a liiiiiittle bit… Rrgh!”
I smiled. Oh Goddess, it was as if she was the only one who knew how to do that. Make me smile, make me laugh. But despite all that, the anticipation was killing me, not to mention getting the bed all messy. Laughter and smiles weren’t the only thing she gave to me so graciously. It was only a few more minutes of struggling later that I finally caved in and grabbed the shoulders of her nightgown, pulling at it as pinkie continued to struggle.
“Ack! Ow! Inkie!”
“Raise your arms, silly filly!”
She did, falling backwards, fast, forceful, and her head collided with the foot of my bed with a thunk. I gasped, and threw the nightgown away carelessly, crawling on top of her. Oh Goddess, I was so careless. Oh Goddess, I hurt her! Oh Goddess, she better be alright, Goddess, please let her be alright. She seemed to be breathing, but she didn’t move, her large bosum rising and falling with…
She really did have fantastic boobs. Distracting boobs. Glorious boobs. Big boobs, big areolas with petite, perky little nipples. They rose and fell like buoys in a lake, big, soft, grippable buoys, that I just wanted to…
No. No, I had to see if she was alright.
“Pinkie?”
No response. Dread filled my heart, and I crawled over her, my eyes wide.
“Pinkie?”
Still nothing. I was all the way over her, our breasts pressing against each other again, and… And… She had better have been okay. Oh Goddess, I really hope that I didn’t knock her out.
“Pinkie? Pinkie, please, say something!”
Still nothing.
“Please…”
“...Owie-wowie.”
I sighed in relief. “Oh, Pinkie! Are you oka-”
Her head shot up as I was speaking and she shut me up right there with a kiss.
“Mmmmph.”
She was giggling into my mouth, her arms draping around my back and pulling me close. Here we were, naked, together, as we should have been, as we wanted to be forever. There was nothing more wonderful, more gentle, more sensual than Pinkie’s lips, nothing more brazen, nothing more curious, nothing more caring and wonderful. There was nothing better to be pressed against, to be pulled to than Pinkie’s body. It was just the right size, big enough to snuggle, small enough to hold. There was nothing I wanted more than to keep the moment, but Pinkie pulled away a few minutes later, smirking.
“Ow.”
I held my breath. “You’re okay?”
“Never been better, like ever.”
I blushed, smiled, and looked down between us, letting out that breath. “So…”
“So.”
I swallowed. “What do we do next?”
She giggled, high-pitched yet quiet, leaning up to whisper in my ear.
“On your back,” she said with a lick to the tip that made me shudder.
I complied, shivering, scooting down a little bit to keep my head away from the foot of the bed, my mind aglow with the impossibility of what was happening, with all the excitement and nervousness of a small filly with a new toy, except here, I was the new toy, I was the new lover, and no toy could ever be on the same level as Pinkie. Nothing in my heart could ever replace or remove Pinkie.
And she kissed and licked her way further into my heart, trailing affection down my neck and shoulders, her tongue leaving a trail of damp coat behind it as it slid down over the top of my breasts, as it circled around my nipple, as it sent shivers down my spine with every electric touch. Perfect lips sealing themselves around my tiny teat and suckling, white, perfect teeth biting down, gently, forcing a squeak from my lungs. I squirmed, helpless, panting, a cold sheen of sweat coating my body already, which Pinkie’s tongue slid across with gusto, going from nipple to nipple.
Left, bite, suckle, flicking with the tongue. She would trail over to the other one and do the same, and all the while it was driving me insane, little grunts and wheezes and electrical pleasure surges erupting between every synapse, forcing my eyes shut, my mouth open, my tongue out. Hers, meanwhile, left my chest and trailed lower, down my abs, over my gut, tickling me, making my quivering legs shake even harder as anticipation flooded my veins, flushing blood with adrenaline.
She pulled away for the slightest moment.
“You’ve got a really cute belly, Inkie… Really flat and nice and all that good stuff.”
I shivered. Pinkie had left a cold trail of spit along my body, and I was desperate for her tonguework to warm me back up. I rolled my hips, moaning, wetter than I had ever been, even when she hadn’t even come close to touching me yet. Truly, she was the Big Sister. Truly, she was the elder, more experienced between us. Truly, I was putty in her hands, but she was keeping those at my sides to stop my squirming body from getting too close. She was teasing me and all she had to do was hold me down.
She licked around my belly button, and I gasped.
“Ya like that?”
“Yesss,” I hissed.
“Ya want some more?”
“For fucks sake, Pinkie! Lick me!”
She giggled. “Okedoke!”
And with that, she dove in, locking her lips around my belly button and slipping her tongue into it, lapping away. A squeal ripped from my mouth, and I arched my back up into her as she cleaned out my button without a hint of mercy, sending shockwaves through my trembling body, her fingers digging into my rear to hold me in place. She kneaded into my behind while she licked my belly button clean, making me gasp for air and clench at the sheets, breathless, shuddering. Her lips were so soft, so playful, and her tongue moved like a snake, getting into places and twisting and turning in ways that I could hardly imagine where possible.
I could do nothing but surrender. I was helpless, completely incapable of speech or movement or even breathing, heaving and gasping in automatically. I must have been speaking, because I felt my lips move, and I felt words pass past them, but whatever it was I wanted to say was garbled and broken by the shockwaves running through my head. Her strong hands gripping my rear, her strong tongue lapping into my flat belly, her strong, sparkling eyes gazing up at me, a smile playing in them as she pulled away again.
“Jeez, Inkie, we’re not even at the good stuff yet and you’re already squealing like the teeniest-weeniest tiniest piggie!”
This time I didn’t beg for more. I let myself fall to the bed, gripping onto the sheets tightly, panting and wheezing for breath, trying to find something to say. Pinkie’s hands traveled in, trailing along my rear and then down my thighs, and she continued to look up with those wonderful eyes. Her mouth now free to smile, she practically beamed, and I noticed now that she was quaking with just as much anticipation as I was.
It was funny how the whole twin sister thing worked. We were very different, but there were some things we shared. Our lust for each other for one.
“Watching you squirm makes me really, really super wet,” Pinkie murmured, forcing a gasp from my aching lungs with a quick flick of her tongue against my inner thigh.
“Like, super duper really wet. Like, I’m almost as wet as…”
Her gaze froze upon my cunny, and it didn’t move.
It was disconcerting, to say the least, to hear absolutely nothing come from Pinkie Pie’s mouth, to hear her utterly speechless. Pinkie Pie was not the kind to be speechless. In fact, she was the sort of pony that had to be gagged sometimes just to get her to be quiet for a moment. I let my head fall back, and held my breath. Oh Goddess, was it that horrifying? Was my fillyhood something horrible or awful or so utterly disgusting in comparison to other fillies? I could feel the sheen, the drenching flow of arousal going down in between my buttcheeks, a freakish river of sinful pleasure. Was it that? Was my drooling, dripping cunt so utterly horrifying to her that she would move her head closer and closer slowly ever so slowly and then give me a long, luscious lick from my taint up to my clit oh Goddess.
She pulled away, panting, shivering, clearly holding in a massive amount of excitement. Pinkie Pie, holding back excitement. Wasn’t that a sight to see?
“Inkie,” she stammered. “You. H-Have. The cutest. The loveliest. The fucking so absolutely fucking holy shit Inkie oh good Goddesses by Starswirl’s motherfucking beard that is the best-tasting best-looking wettest little pussy I have ever fucking seen oh Goddess I am going to fucking eat you up!”
Before I knew it, Pinkie Pie had pushed my legs apart, gripping at my inner thighs so hard she left fingermarks underneath my coat, and plunged her face into my cunt as if she was dying of thirst. Suddenly, my still-recovering mind was flooded with even more pleasure, and I raised my hips into her mouth, squealing and yelping as she assaulted my pussy with the full power of the masterful tonguework of earlier.
Good Goddess, if her tongue was amazing at my bellybutton, it was nothing compared to what she was doing to me then.
In my marehood, I could feel her tongue in even greater detail. Every miniscule bump of a tastebud, every drop of slick saliva mixing with the river from my nethers, every twist and bend in the muscle as it explored me, every sensation multiplied by my sensitive cooch, gently pushing quiet moans out of me. My legs twitched and shivered, resting weakly on her shoulders. I reached down and stroked her mane as she worked into me, closing my eyes, watching as colors flew across my eyelids with every slick stroke of tongue.
Her upper lip wrapped around my clit, and I gasped, mane-stroking turning into mane-gripping as I pulled her up into my pussy, raising my shaking hips and quivering cootch into that sweet, wet, warm mouth of hers. Grasping her mane didn’t seem to hurt her at all, even though I grabbed hard enough to do so. Instead, she giggled into my marehood, sending tremors down her tongue and into my spine, eliciting a squeak from me.
Oh Goddess, this was happening. Oh Goddess, oh Goddess, here was a Goddess here to take me away, and by Goddess was she doing it. Such perfect lips around my lower ones, such love and passion in every slick stroke, such desire burning between us and setting us alight, oh Goddess, I wanted this forever, oh Goddess. I could feel something well up in my stomach, I could feel my loins churn and burn and beg, my entire body a white noise of just the most intense feeling, oh Goddess I couldn’t stop oh Goddess.
“P-P-Pinkieee… Aaahn…”
She pulled away, and this time I was too breathless to groan. Not that she gave me time to, anyways, as not a moment later she stuffed two fingers into me and began to pump them at lightning speed, making me squeal. Everything multiplied. Shockwaves went through my body, and I could practically feel myself bouncing on the bed with the force of every thrust.
“Pinkieee!”
“Tongue was getting tired!” She moaned, voice laden with lust. “If I’m gonna juice ya, it’s gonna be the ol’ fashioned way!”
“Pinkie! P-Pinkiaaah! I-I can’t! I…”
She kissed my inner thigh, speeding up her fingering, making it almost impossible to scream, despite my best efforts not to. If the rest of the family found us… Oh Goddess, oh Goddess, we would have to stop, and I didn’t want this to stop, never wanted this to stop, but I wasn’t just on the edge and teetering, I was plummeting off the edge after being thrown bodily off, oh Goddess, oh Goddess Pinkie–
“Gimme the juice, Inkie!”
All of my senses were obliterated in ecstasy. I could barely feel my body quake and quiver, my pussy clench and unclench at the fingers now trapped within it’s tightness, the constant splatterings of cum against Pinkie’s arm, against her shoulder, against her face as she leaned down and kissed my clit, as I felt myself practically lifted from the ground from the force of my orgasm, as everything exploded in my head. No more thoughts. No more worries. Just Pinkie. Thank heavens for Pinkie. Pinkie, she who worthy of worship brought me to this peak, and flung me off of it into the depths of depraved writhing and moaning, not caring who heard me, or what they heard. Half-finished words, mostly profanities, gushed from my mouth with ecstatic drool, not seeing, not hearing, not anything but touch, her touch deep inside of me and against me.
It didn’t end abruptly. It faded, tingling in my limbs long after my back collapsed onto the bed, my rump bouncing on the sheets. Like a thousand needles it spread throughout my body, filling me with warmth and satisfaction. Pinkie Pie laid beside me, suckling on her fingers, giggling, always with the giggling, nuzzling into my shoulder and listening to me pant as I came down.
We didn’t speak for a very long time. I had trouble finding the right word, and when I found it, I knew it wasn’t enough.
“Wow.”
“You liked it?” Pinkie Pie hummed.
“Wow.”
“Mumble fumble.”
“Wow.”
She licked my neck. “I’m glad you’re having fun, but the party isn’t over yet.”
I swallowed down another “wow”, fumbling for other things to say.
“I… I do the same to you now, right?”
“Hmmmh.”
Pinkie sighed, rolling on top of me, her snout pressed against mine, breathing into my mouth and me into hers, staring deeply into my eyes. I saw them now, in the sparkling reflection of hers. I saw past her eyes and what was inside them and saw what was inside mine. I saw the love that we were sharing and the tears that had now dried, I saw the slightest shred of innocence, the sort of innocence in the love between sisters. I saw lust, burning brightly and powerfully. And I saw things I had never seen before; strength, commitment, fulfillment, things that said that it didn’t matter that we may never do this again, we were doing it then, we were together then and that was enough for a lifetime.
“S’much as I’d absolutely love that, I had something even better in mind.”
She crawled off of my gut, slinking about with a surprising amount of flexibility for a girl with her assets, her eyes still locked on mine, still glittering, still reflecting. Her right leg wrapped over my left, her left one locked under my right. She laid back against the bed, and raised both her hips and mine, inspecting my cunny and giving me ample opportunity to do the same to hers. It was sopping, damp with arousal, and I could see it quivering, winking up at me, just as desperate as I was, crying out for attention, the lips puffy, lickable, kissable, edible. I looked up at her face, and saw that she had let her tongue loll out of her mouth, staring at me with lidded eyes, the attention making the river traveling down my thighs get even thicker.
“Pinkie?” I gasped out, rolling my hips around.
She was lost in me. Entranced in me. Her eyes had glazed over, utterly fascinated by my cunt, utterly and completely enamored by it. I could see a spot of drool spilling from the side of her mouth as she stared, unblinking, upon it. I hoped I was doing the same thing she was, winking, quivering, shivering, waiting for some sort of contact or some sort of attention, desperate to become one with something.
Every second that passed by without this attention, though, was agony. My pussy didn’t merely quiver, it ached, it begged, it sent tingles of discomfort and dissatisfaction up to my head. I felt empty. My filly lips begged for something, anything. Any sort of touch to let me return to that high I had found in earlier orgasm, anything that sent me back to that plane of glorious nothingness.
It got to be too much. I groaned, rolling my hips around, mumbling to myself.
“Pinkie?”
She smacked her lips, blinking a few times, snapping out of her trance. “Mh?”
“What…” I looked between us. “What are ya gonna do?”
“Mmh!” Pinkie squeaked. “You’ve never seen this?”
“No…”
“Oh, okedoke! I should have told ya earlier. So…”
She scooted her hips closer, clearing her throat, taking up that sultry tone again.
“This, Inkie-dinkie, is called scissoring! We’re gonna mash our cunnies together until somepony lets out their milk and honey! Well, just honey I guess, since we’d need a stallion for milk! I guess I could ask around to–”
“I don’t like stallions,” I murmured.
Pinkie Pie’s smile dropped for a moment, and I saw a rare, serious look on her face.
“Oh. Really?”
“No.”
There was a small moment of silence, and for a minute I was afraid that I killed the mood. Oh Goddess, how could I? Why would I? Oh, I had dreamed of this for so long and… Her smile came back, but this one was utterly sincere. And I looked into her eyes and found no judgement, no disappointment. Acceptance, still. Excitement, good Goddess, the excitement I saw in her cunny I could see in her eyes now, as if knowing my barn door swung one way and one way only made this even better for her.
“Oke-dokie-lokie.”
I coughed, clearing away the awkward air in my lungs. “So.”
“Yeah?”
“Does it feel good?”
She giggled. “I had my doubts about it too, yeah! How could it be so good when there isn’t any, like, stuff going in and out and stuff? But I did it with this really super-cute chick from Mustangia and holy moly, I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard in my entire life! It’s really, really super-duper amazing!”
She scooted closer, and I did the same, closing my eyes and laying back, biting my lip.
“Like, I mean, it’s like doing it with a stallion almost, y’know? You can go super duper hard and rough and pull on manes and stuff or you can do it super slow and sensual like, and you can do it on your hands and knees or do it on your back, and you can sit up for kissies or get on top of one another and make out or just lay back and enjoy the ride and oh Goddess Inkie oh Goddess a ride on a cunt like yours oh Goddess I couldn’t be any wetterrr…”
The rest of her speech devolved into mumbled nonsense. Inch by inch she scooted closer, inch by inch she and I came closer to contact. I felt my heartbeat go faster and faster as she got closer, and closer, and closer, our pussies inches away, centi, millimeters away, clits barely brushing against one another, our legs shivering together, aching together to be one.
Contact.
My heart stopped in my chest, and I threw my head back for a scream that never came out.
Pinkie Pie felt the same shock I did, and she took matters into her own hands. She grabbed my ankles and pulled me in, smushing us together, clit against clit and flowing, sopping slit against slit. My mouth opened for a gasp of air that I couldn’t let go, paralyzed as I was by the bliss blasting through my head. Every touch, every rub, every bit and scrap of contact she gave me ran through every muscle in my body and filled it to the brim, making me spasm and quake with euphoria. It was all I could do to reciprocate, rolling my hips up into hers, sliding my own wetness against her sopping cunt, trading groans and moans and squeaks.
We started slowly, getting used to the feeling of each other. Pinkie Pie was a giving sort of pussy, which made sense given that she was a giving sort of pony. Every time her cunny winked, a little bit of my own flowing juices slipped into her, giving her lower lips the same taste of me her mouth had had earlier. Those same lips kept me locked to hers, kept me close to hers. The smell between us was incredible, sweet, slick mare juice and sweat, my eyes rolling back into my head, closing, the colors and the stars playing out.patterns in my vision.
“Mmmh… S-See… What I t-told ya, Inkie?”
All I could do in response was bite my lip and nod.
“Talk to me,” she breathed. “Oh fuck, Inkie, talk to me. Tell me what y-you ffff-feel.”
“P-Pinkiiie…”
“Tell me.”
I swallowed, gasping as she raised her hips into mine. “Oh fuck, Pinkie! Oh!”
“That’s the fucking spirit…”
There were no words for the satisfaction I felt then. Everything was perfect. The moon was quarter full, but out in Rockport that was enough to frame us, on our backs, locked together, kissing each other in the most sincere and pleasurable way. It was with Pinkie Pie, the most perfect and wonderful of ponies, giving me the most perfect and wonderful of her gifts, letting me into her heart and letting me push and mash against her, be with her, be for even a fraction of a minute one with her. Moans and groans spilled from me, spilled between my lips as drool spilled from Pinkies, and I could see that she was as lost as I was in the moment.
“Oh fuck, Pinkie,” I squeaked. “F-Fuck, I f-feel like I’m a f-fucking part of you, oh, oh Goddess, oooh…”
“That’s the eeee id-d-deaaa!”
She started pushing harder.
My eyes flew open, but the stars didn’t leave me. My legs strained as she pulled them back, pulled them up to her shoulders, losing complete control of squeaks, squeaks, small screams, pleasure filling us to the brim. My tongue shot from my mouth, every part of my pussy on fire, only to be doused by the steady flow of juices that flew between us as she smashed her hips against mine, practically humping my pussy with hers. Looking down only got me even wetter. I could see the puddle forming between us, but more importantly, I could see her.
Her breasts bounced with her, up and down, up and down, shockwaves rippling through her flesh, making her big butt jiggle every time she smashed her cunt against mine. Her face, good Goddess, her eyes went glossy again, and they pointed to the ceiling as if thanking Celestia, her mouth wide upon, her bouncing chest rising and falling with the desperate breathes she sucked in with every single bounce, every single squeak, every single moan between us.
“Tell meee!” she moaned.
“Fuck! Pinkie! Fuuuck! Aaagh!”
“Tell meeeee!”
“P-Pinkiiie! I… Haahan!”
She stopped completely, smashing her clit against mine, making me gasp, catching her breath as she sat up, rolling her hips up and down.
“Tell me.”
I groaned, rolling mine back into hers, making her bite her lip, closing my eyes, feeling the dampness underneath my rear.
“Tell you what?”
“Tell me you want me to make you cum,” Pinkie squeaked, pushing even harder into me, causing a strained cry to escape my lips. “Tell me you want me to push into you so hard that you just explode and, oh Goddess, oh Goddess tell me that that fucking super hot super-duper super wet pussy of yours just fucking explodes and oh Goddess oh Goddess oh Goddess Inkie tell me you’ll fucking soak this entire fucking bed with your filthy fucking cunt oh fucking Goddess Inkie tell me that!”
She pulled back and mashed into my cunt again, and I squealed.
“Pinkie!”
“Go on!”
She smashed into me again, and my vision went blurry, tears of agonized pleasure filling my eyes.
“Pinkie! I-I wanna…”
“Say it!”
Another smashing, my cunny running free. I could see my juices connecting us together.
“Pinkie, I-I-I-I oh Goddess Pinkie please! Please!”
“Not!”
Smash.
“Until!”
Squish.
“You say iit!”
She held us together, biting her lip, rubbing up and down, her mane in complete disarray, my mane splayed out behind me. I panted, a squeaking, shivering, wriggling mess of a pony, trying to babble out the words she wanted me to say.
“I-I… I wanna cum, Pinkie.”
“Mumble fumble!”
“Pinkie!” I cried. “I wanna fucking cum so fucking hard, Pinkie! Make me fucking cum, oh Goddess make meeeeee!”
It hardly left my mouth before it happened.
Our clits mashed together and the world blew completely away, my eyes rolling back, my senses exploding again, nothing was there, nothing, not even me, not even Pinkie, only one, two mares now one, bursting and exploding together, a flowing stream of juices blasting from the both of us, eyes watering, squeals and cries going unheard. Every single nerve either went dead and numb or exploded, overloading my every sense, my head thrown back, nothing mattered, nothing mattered, it was just me and Pinkie Pie, my own sister, the greatest pony ever conceived, and my worship was now complete.
I had achieved Nirvana. I had gone to the closest thing to Heaven Pinkie Pie could offer, and that was more than enough for me. There was nothing but us, our love, together, a moment that would last forever in our hearts, eternal peace between us, good Goddess, good Goddess, may this moment never end, good Goddess.
It felt like ages before the black edges around my vision faded away, and I returned to the land of the living, sweating, aching, my brain filled with a fuzz and a fugue that I never wanted to go away. Pinkie Pie and I laid, our cunnies still together, juices dribbling in between us, a viscous pile of wetness underneath our bottoms. Neither of us wanted to move. We laid there, lost in our own thoughts, though we both thought the exact same thing.
“Pinkie?! Inkie?!”
The call down the hall brought us both back to reality.
Panic set in, I pulled away without the least bit of tact from my Pinkie Pie, and practically jumped into my own bed, throwing the covers over myself and hoping that if our parents walked in they’d be too tired to notice the sweet, succulent smell of mare juices, the musk of it filling the room and oh Goddess we were so dead, we were so caught, we were so going to die oh Goddess.
“Pinkie! Are you still awake in there?! Inkie?!”
I swallowed, shutting my eyes, bracing myself.
Pinkie Pie just giggled, rolling over groggily and grabbing sheets, lazily slipping them over her shoulders. I heard the sluggish hoofsteps of my sleepy father a minute or so later, my aching body rejuvenated with the realization of what had just happened. I just had sex with Pinkie Pie, and my father, my Papa, was about to find out. What was he going to say? Would he send me away? Would Pinkie Pie’s going away be turned into a disgrace because of me and my selfishness? Oh Goddess, what had I done oh Goddess.
Pinkie Pie just giggled. I could see it in her eyes, and by the creaks in the floorboards, that Papa was right outside at the door, probably rubbing the sleep out of his eyes like he always did. I heard him take a deep breath through his nostrils, and I winced, ready for the fire and brimstone.
“What the heck are you two doin’ this time of night?” he growled, without menace, though. Papa couldn’t help but growl. You do enough to your throat and things sound different coming out of it.
“Just playin’,” Pinkie Pie singsonged.
I held my breath.
Papa let his out in a long-suffering sigh. “Jus’ git ta bed, Pinkie. Don’t want ya all tuckered out for your big day, right?”
He turned to go, and I let out my own sigh, one of relief.
“Papa…”
And I held my breath again.
“Yes, Pinkie?”
“I gotta tell you somethin’.”
Oh, no. Oh, Goddess, no, Pinkie, please…
“I’m gonna miss you a whole bunch.”
There was another moment of silence. I heard Papa sniffle.
“I’m gonna miss you more, Pinkie.”
“G’night, Papa,” Pinkie Pie murmured. “Sweet dreams.”
“G’night.”
He left, and I breathed out again, exhaustion filling my bones. My muscles tired from sex and adrenaline, my lungs tired from shouting and squealing, my brain just couldn’t handle the stress, and I almost shut down, if it wasn’t for Pinkie Pie coming over to my bed and slipping into the covers.
“Inkie,” she whispered.
“Mmh.”
“Inkie, can I sleep with you tonight?”
I looked up at her. The smile was there, but it was melancholy, it was devoid of the euphoria of before. I knew what this was. I knew what she was doing.
She was asking me to be the Big Sister.
And I felt like I could do it.
“Pinkie,” I murmured, “Please sleep with me.”
“Thanks…”
I felt her body, naked, against mine, holding me close, holding me tightly. Never letting go. As if she belonged there, and she did. No matter how far away she ever was, no matter what happened or where or when, no matter what, there would always be Pinkie Pie, somewhere inside of me. In my heart, against my breast, it didn’t matter, it never did. I wasn’t like her, but she never asked me to be. All a Big Sister needs to do, after all, is to be able to hold somepony close and say
I love you.
That’s what I did. And she simply smiled, and squeezed me tight, and said the last thing that I heard from her mouth, from that squeaky, playful voice of hers that night, as I drifted away into sleep.
“Mumble fumble.”
