Sleepover at Apple Bloom's

Three, freshly-washed-and-dried little mares waited in the big, four-poster bed in Apple Bloom’s room. They were passing the time playing a mindless card game of Warhorse in the dim light coming from one of the bedside table lamps. Apple Bloom could hardly contain herself, and she was pretty sure her companions felt the same excitement by the way they their tails were twitching. They were waiting for Applejack to make an appearance; she still felt that her duties as big sister including tucking the fillies in, even though there weren’t any blankets and Apple Bloom had repeatedly protested, saying they were too old to be “treated like foals”.

“Okay, you rascals,” announced Applejack as she came up the stairs, “time for all little fillies to hit the hay.” She entered the room and gave it a cursory glance to make sure everything was set for the night. “Did y’all brush your teeth?” came the inevitable inquiry.

They had. Each pony had diligently taken her turn, using the facilities and brushing her teeth.

“Yes, AJ, we sure did,” assured Apple Bloom.

Applejack leaned in and planted a quick kiss on her little sister’s forehead, and then gave a nuzzle to all three in turn. She secretly took a small sniff near each filly to make sure that they really had brushed their teeth. Having gotten three positive, minty results, Applejack reached over and turned off the bedside lamp. “Goodnight, y’all,” she said sweetly, and she closed the bedroom door behind her.

Apple Bloom listened as her older sister walked down the hall and closed the door to her own room. Applejack tended to hover too much during the day, but, to her credit, she always left the fillies alone once she said her goodnights. Apple Bloom knew that as long as they stayed in place and kept the commotion down to a dull roar, she and her friends would be undisturbed for the rest of the night.
The three friends looked at each other and smiled, their bright eyes shining in the moonlight that was streaming in through the bedroom windows. Apple Bloom actually shivered with excitement. Then she remembered something.

“Oh! Wait. Before we start,” exclaimed Apple Bloom as she climbed out of bed, “check this out!” She walked over to one corner of the room and plugged something in. The room got brighter.

“Cool!” chimed Sweetie Belle.

“Awesome!” shouted Scootaloo, trying a bit too much to sound like Rainbow Dash.

Apple Bloom admired her afternoon’s work. She had taken a couple of strings of the white lights from the winter holiday season, and hung them in loose arcs around her room. The result was a wonderful, soft illumination that filled the whole room. Just perfect for the fun that was about to begin.

Their games had started out innocently enough. At previous sleepovers, the little fillies would talk about the colts from school, or what they looked for in a young stallion, or who they wanted to be their Very Special Somepony. Topics evolved as the girls grew. They would discuss their findings or glimpses of male pony anatomy, and debate what the act of rutting would be like someday. All this exciting talk eventually led to mutual exploration and touching and licking, and, well, now the three best friends were quite skilled in the art of giving and receiving of manual and oral pony pleasure.

Apple Bloom climbed back into her big bed and grabbed the deck of cards; its illustration was a cluster of red butterflies. It had been given to her a few years ago on her birthday by her Auntie Applesauce, and the little filly was pretty sure that her dull aunt would faint cold if she knew what she used them for. As she shuffled the cards, she looked at her friends.

“Y’all ready?” she inquired impishly.

“Mmm hmm!” said Scootaloo hungrily, “I’ve been thinking about this all day!”

“Me too!” agreed Sweetie Belle, “and I kept it under control until Big Mac picked me up to throw me in the bathtub. He is so hot,” she said in Apple Bloom’s direction, pronouncing the last two words as if they were sentences of their own.

Apple Bloom ignored the comment about her brother and spread the cards out on the bed. She didn’t have to say anything—everypony knew the rules, and they were very simple. Cards would be chosen to randomly select the partners. Low card gave pleasure, high card received. Middle card would play a sideline role. Giver, Getter, Gawker. Then the roles would cycle twice so that each pony had a turn at all three places. As hostess, Apple Bloom was expected to draw first. She selected a card near her and turned it over. It was the seven of apples. Scootaloo picked next and flipped over the three of horseshoes, and groaned. Sweetie Belle, who had a knack at drawing high, reached into the pile and revealed a queen of apples.

Apple Bloom gathered up the cards and deposited them back on the bedside table, while Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo eagerly assumed their positions. Cricket song filled the warm summer night air, and Apple Bloom curled up beside her friends, with her hoof down between her thighs, rocking herself a little bit to keep up her arousal, but she’d have to watch that she didn’t go too far by herself. She still had the two best rounds coming up, after all.