Das Scoot

Scootablue

"Heyyyy mang!" Scootaloo slurred, falling into your side and resting there, "You ever tell your folks yet?"

It'd been a few weeks since the two of you met, and things had been going well. From the shaky beginnings, a relationship had bloomed. Your grades were slipping (Well, in freefall) but that wasn't important anyway. It's not like mathematics would help you build clouds anyway, screw it.

Just a few short weeks ago, you'd never have imagined yourself sneaking into a dirty local bar, convincing the barmare to serve you and Scoots with slick words and a few extra bits, and getting totally smashed just for the fun of it, but Scootaloo had showed you a whole new way of life.

You hadn't told your parents yet. As far as they knew, you were just "out", like you were most nights. They didn't know where, they didn't know who with, and they didn't know when you'd be back - and why should they? They didn't own you.

"Damn straight, man." Scootaloo grinned, holding her drink up in a hoof and trying to balance on her own again. She overshot and ended up sprawled over the table. Damn, did she look good like that. You hadn't done it in her parents' house again, for fear of your life, but you'd done it basically everywhere else. On a low-flying cloud, next to the lake, in a tree, on her scooter, on Miss Cheerilee's desk, you name it, you'd probably screwed her on it.

You wondered if she wanted to get out of the bar and head somewhere a little more personal. She nodded, and pulled herself off of the table, stumbling over until she could rest against you for support. She was drunker than you were, and you were far from sober.

A few minutes later, you managed to find your way through to a back entrance, tumbling out through the door after a long, painful journey including several upturned chairs, a few spilt drinks, a lot of dirty looks, and a mare who was clearly getting hotter and hotter pressing against your side. She was very, very distracting.

The door swung shut behind you as the two of you lay in a tired pile on the dark alley path. You wondered what would come next - there were some garbage cans, you could bend her over one of those. Maybe just push her against a wall, or take her right there on the dirty floor. You looked over at her for ideas.

She was sleeping. You blinked a few times and fought back a yawn - maybe she did have the right idea. Just a short nap, then you'd fuck her silly. Just a short nap.

The rising sun finally found its way down the dark alleyway, waking you and Scootaloo up with its angry, harsh glow.

"Uuugggghhhh," she groaned "did we sleep here?"

You guessed so.

"You remember anything about last night?"

You didn't think you did.

"Me neither. Awesome, must have been great fun."

Yeah. Yeah, it probably was. Everything always was, when Scootaloo was showing you how it was done.