Author's Note

Pinkie Pie's POV

A Pink Moment: 3

I had managed to find enough vegetable for a salad for both of us for our dinner. There had been a few more Muffins, but just enough for a dessert. Guess I could make due.

Now I had just slipped into her room, while she is off shopping for the ingredients I will need in order to bake for a few more days.

She had to go alone since I can’t go out. I couldn’t leave the building, due to the limitations the emitter is currently imposing upon me. My guess is that Risa is very eager to feed me in order for me to gather the mass required to reject the hologram and thus become a physical individual I have seen hints towards it on numerous occasions already, even if I can’t be certain, partially because she never quite expressed it clearly enough.

It isn’t as if I could blame her for what she tries to do for me, even if it may be just as much for herself as it is for me. Voiding the physical limitations of the emitter and the Hologram makes me into her Friend, as opposed to a mere toy that couldn’t leave her home. I wouldn’t go out in case the power or emitter would fail either, which I would find highly convenient on both of us. I like to be real and think of myself as an individual. Who wouldn’t?

Now I had found myself on the top of her bed, alone, waiting for her to return with the things she had promised to buy for us to enjoy. She had suggested I could explore myself, or to the point, the effects of the treat she had placed so much effort into. Now would be as good a time as any to pursue it.

I could have enjoyed to do it with her, but since she isn’t here right now. It is the thing she had expected me to enjoy the most.

Looking back at the situation, my steps still make the squeaking noises and even more pronounced than they had been before dinner. Guess I don’t mind, it reminds me of the treat she gave me. It is a physical link to her and the friendship we share.

I still do feel wet, I can’t quite push it out of my mind. It is an unfamiliar sensation, one I guess I am bound to get used to. Yet, this is something I need to explore in order to familiarise myself with. Better to know the effects it has on me and how it will affect me in any given situation.

In my situation, there is but one thing to do since I am alone and feeling all wet. I have no idea how I am to react on stimulation now, so I have to take my time and explore it. I may have memories of doing what I had in mind, but there are a few details she changed along the way in her endeavours. The third party accessories are not supported, but it gave me a chance to become her friend the way she intended me to. I am only too happy to make another friend.

For a moment, I just lay on the bed, considering my situation and my options in general. I know what I want and what I need. Moving my right hand from the side of my hip along the skin and up to the top of my mound is easy.

Experience wanted to make me think the wet feeling would drip and smear, but as my fingers slide over my orchid, my fingers told me otherwise. My orchid is wet and slippery, but my fingers remain stubbornly dry and continues to give the same firm grip.

With that I started to rub the wet flesh of my orchid. I feel the thick wet slipperiness all over, from the outer rim and all the way in as far as I pressed my fingers, not that I challenged myself. Something told me she would love exploring me as I am. I couldn’t blame her since I know I will enjoy her doing it.

Then it hit me, I feel as if I had been in heat. That is when I have the wet sensation inside like this. It made me excited and excitable in a similar manner as well, if my memory served me, but I never had any problems with my memory, so I have to assume this is how I used to feel as I was in heat too.

Only problem with the situation is that I never had hands in any of my memories. I was a Pony and Ponies doesn’t have hands, simple as that. As if I am about to allow this to get in the way? I never allowed anything to get in the way, when I was in the mood, even less so, if I was in heat.

For a moment I just keep rubbing the slippery orchid, reveling in the joy the touch of the rubbery flesh gave me as I keep teasing myself. There was little else to do and none better than exploring myself, right now.

After a while, I lift up my left hand before my eyes, looking at it as I hold it up, just bending my fingers and turning the hand around. Five sparkly, glossy crystal clear nails. By the looks, I would estimate she made them about an inch long and semi square. I guess they look good, but what would I use them for?

As exciting as the looks of my nails were, Isoon turned my attention elsewhere. Enjoying to explore myself and experience it first hand. I had enjoyed the sensations and the sensitivity of my orchid, I still do, I had enjoyed the looks of my hands, and the experience of using them. Since I had seen the hand, I let it fall to my chest, on top of the jigglie.

Naturally, the nibble would be the next object to explore. I soon found it very sensitive to the touch. If it is the rough texture of the surface, but I suspect that this goes well beyond the surface of the skin, but all the way in the flesh. Slowly rubbing it made me feel, sensations bubbling to the surface, sensations I may not have been fully prepared for. The mere touch left me moaning.

I feel the texture under the tips of my fingers, a somewhat unexpected and unexplored feeling. Maybe the tips of my fingers are a bit like the soles of my hooves, with which I pick up things, or merely walk all over you?

I am still incapable of forgetting, every last memory, merely waiting for a cue, a cause to resurface. To be used and useful to me. I know they could be a hindrance and impediment, if I was remembering the wrong things at the wrong time. Or just shadowing what I had at hand.

My hand finally left my mound, and the orchid in favour of my face, my lips. I lick the tips of my fingers one at the time, exploring, experiencing the texture as they are, the way my tongue senses the skin. Tasting the flesh and the residue from the juices I had so recently enjoyed. Picking up the scent, remembering the excitement causing it, thus pulling me back down into the maelstrom of emotions elicited by the connection.

What finally brought me back, is the sound of feet. I know the girl. She had just returned from the store and I had been waiting for her. She is very much awaited. I love to see her again.

I slip my hooves down to the floor, stand up and walk out of the room to greet her. As I open the door, I could see her smiling. She had bought the groceries we need and brought them home.

“Hiya, Umi!” I exclaimed.

“Hiya, Pinkie!” she exclaimed in response as she continued to walk up towards me.

“Let’s get these items to the kitchen where they belong!” I pointed out.

“Ah yeah, I guess you distracted me with all your beaming enthusiasm!” she pointed out.

“Just place it on the dining table, we can sort it all from there!” I offered.

“Sounds like a reasonable start!” she answered and placed all the bags of groceries and other items squarely on the middle of the table as I had suggested.

“Milk and eggs goes to the fridge. Good for baking!” I pointed out as I slipped the items out one of her bags and promptly stormed off with them as expressed.

“Apples, carrots and salad. I think I leave them on the table. They would not last all that long anyway?” she pondered.

“A bag of lower, I’ll take these to the kitchen. Should last me a few days!” I exclaimed, as I walked out with the heavy bag.

“An assortment of spices, good for baking, cooking, salads and what ever we could think of later!” I pointed out and carried a selection of small bags and other packages into the kitchen, depositing them among the once I still did have left.