Boobies. You have always loved boobies. Ever since you were a young foal suckling at you mother's tit. You could never get enough of them. The way they jiggled when the mares walked. It was mesmerizing as a pendulum. The fur around those lovable fun bags always looked to be the softest, though you wouldn't know. You had never felt the real thing. You'd seen them though, and you were addicted.

That was the reason why moving to Ponyville was the best decision you had ever made.

You slowly walked through the outskirts of town, your hooves clomping softly on the packed dirt, tired from your three day walk from your hometown. What you had in your pack was just the essentials. You would get everything else once you were settled in. As you neared the center of town you noticed quite a few pairs of decently sized breasts walking around, all barely contained by shirts in the sweltering summer heat.

You casually look to look at the address scrawled on the sheet of paper in your right hand, only to have your gaze stopped by an enormous pair of pink breasts, covered by a blue v-neck, hovering comfortably close to you.

“How's it going, buddy,” the head attached to the breasts said. “My name is Pinkie Pie. You look new here. What's your name?”

“Uh, my name is Garblekdkaad,” you replied, your reply lost in the stunning cleavage of Pinkie Pie.

“It's nice to meet you, Garblekdkaad. Mind if I call you Garble for short?” the pair of taking breasts asked, unperturbed by what you had just said. “I bet you and I are going to be great friends.”

She turned and started bouncing off, breaking you from your trance. You shook your head to clear your mind. The fuck just happened.

You looked back down to the address and slowly made your way to your house, Taking sideways glances at all the boobies on the way. As you neared your new place of residence, you heard screams of delight combined with screams of desperation coming from next door. You looked to the house just in time to see the door burst open and a white pair of breasts, restrained by a spaghetti strap shirt, sprint out a the door way.

“Vinyl!” you heard a voice yell from inside the house. “Come back here with my bra, now!”

You then glanced back to the doorway to see a beautiful pair of gray breastacles, covered only by a forearm.

“B-b-boobies,” you stammered out as you felt a slight bit of slobber form at the corner of your mouth.

The gray pair of boobies saw you gawking and instantly screamed bloody murder before slamming the door.

The white pair slowly trotted up to you. “Dude, that wasn't cool.”

“What wasn't?” you asked, eyes on the bountiful bust.”

“Hey, douche bag, my eyes are up here,” a hand enters your field of vision, the middle finger extended to point up at the face attached to the lovelies.

You slowly lifted your head, not wanting your eyes to leave the comfort of that inviting, warm crevice. You meet her eyes, her beautiful, magenta eyes, and immediately look back down, not to her breasts, but to the ground at your feet.

You felt a hand rest on your shoulder, causing you to flinch away. “Hey, bud, you alright?”

Without saying a word to her, this beautiful mare before you, you turned and ran to your new house, fumbling for a second with the lock before finally bursting into the already furnished living room.

You sat down on the couch and pulled your legs up to your chest, making a mental note to purchase some brandy for the next time something happened like this. You were never good with girls. They always looked at you funny. Your mother told you it was just the heterochromia of the eyes, but still, since grade school, you had kept your eyes downcast, eventually finding there resting place at chest level. No girl had ever asked to look into your eyes before. In fact, before today, It seemed like it had been years since you had even been spoken to by a girl except your mother. The pink one was alright, she had just introduced herself, nothing to personal. The white one though, she had seen your eyes, you had seen hers. Your mother always told you that the eyes were the window to the soul, so having two different colored eyes meant your soul was extra special. The white one's eyes were different though. They were just a single color, a beautiful, brilliant magenta. They acted more like doors than windows. All you saw was your reflection, as if staring into a pair of glass orbs. The personality of it all made you feel overwhelmed so you bolted, fear in your every step.

As you sat in the dark living room, rocking back and forth in the fetal position, you heard a knock on the door.

“Hey, new guy, you in there?” you heard a voice say, you recognized it as the white one. “You mind if I come in?”

You didn't reply, but the knob turned anyway, and you mentally berate yourself for leaving it unlocked. The white mare, whom you now realized was a unicorn with an electric blue mane, stood in your doorway, handling a tray of cookies. She had changed out of her shirt and in to a gray pullover hoodie with matching sweatpants. She also had a pair of purple sunglasses resting atop her horn.

She closed the door and walked over to you, still in the fetal position on the couch. “Hey bud you alright?” She reached out a hand to your shoulder again but, remembering earlier, decided to think better of it, instead she just sits down next to you, putting the try of cookies, now identified as chocolate chip, between the two of you.

She stared at the wall across the room for a full minute before finally breaking the silence. “So... uh... I brought you a housewarming gift,” she said as she gestured to the plate of cookies. “My roommate, Octavia made them. I suck at all things culinary.” She chuckled slightly. She looked to you to see if you shared in her mirth. The smile died on her lips as she saw you still staring blankly at the wall. “My name is Vinyl Scratch, I'm the local DJ here in Ponyville. Play every Friday and Saturday night at the Horn and Scepter. The girl you were ogling earlier was my roommate, Octavia, the one I just mentioned. She plays first chair cello in the Royal Canterlot Orchestra. Not really my type of music but hey to each her own, I guess.” She looked over to you to see if you were listening. When she saw you still wore a blank expression, she huffed irritably.

She waved a hand in front of your face, trying to elicit a response, but still, you stared. “Helloooo, anypony in there?” No response. She sighed as she stood up and brushed off her pant legs. “Well, bud, if you want to talk I'm just next door. You should come to the club tomorrow night. What's you name? I never caught it.” You briefly snap out of your comatose state to give her your real name, then resume rocking on the couch. “Huh, cool name bud.” She walked to the door and opened it. Before completely leaving she turned her back to you with a smile. “By the way, I really like your eyes. They're cool.” With that she raised a hand over her shoulder and waved at you as she walked out the door, closing it softly behind her.

Author's Note

So this was a just for fun idea I had while playing Titanfall one night. it was also a good way to really get back into writing. I actually had fun writing it, which hasn't happened in a while. Maybe, now I can put more effort into writing.
Good night yall.
Love,

Distorted