“Okay. First day at Canterlot High School. Well, here goes nothing . . . .”
Hoofenmouth scratched the scalp under his curly brown hair as he opened the door to his new school. Since moving here, he'd been nervous, mostly because of having to attend a new school with completely different kids, teachers, and classes. This was natural, of course, but Hoof's anxiety ran deeper than that. He'd had strange feelings for the last few years, not owed to coincidence that these feelings just happened to start around the time he'd hit puberty. He'd never really noticed before, but some of the girls in his old school were actually really good-looking. Tight blouses, short shorts, knee-high boots, skin-hugging pants: he'd felt a thrill at the mere sight of them. He was especially enthralled by the girls who had a thing for wearing miniskirts. It excited him, but the excitement didn't make him any less nervous. He'd hoped then that it wouldn't be as bad here at Canterlot High. If he could get a grip on his urges, it wouldn't be so bad if there wasn't as much of a surplus of sexily-dressed girls all over campus.
Opening the doors and stepping inside, Hoof saw that his hopes would be crushed instantly.
The first thing he noticed was that nearly every student he saw walking around the main hall was female. Yes, there were male students, but their numbers in this part of the building alone paled by comparison. What initially directed his attention was the second thing Hoof consciously realized—each and every girl he saw was wearing a skirt or dress!
Hoof released a slight whimper and felt his “excitement” return. This was going to be a long day.
Hoof heard a honking sound go off in his ear, making him cry out, startled. He turned, and saw a cute girl with poofy pink hair staring at him with a huge grin. “Hi!” she squealed excitedly. “Never seen you here, so I bet you're new, huh? I'm Pinkie Pie! Welcome to Canterlot High!!” She blew her noisemaker again and threw a fist-full of confetti over Hoof.
Hoof stared at her as she stared back, his nervousness getting to him immediately. He'd never had a cute girl come this close to him before, and he wasn't quite sure whether he liked it or not. Pinkie Pie seemed to pick up on his nervousness, and asked, “Hey, what's wrong? You're just kinda standing there staring. Are you shy?” She gasped, “Did you just see a ghost?!” When Hoof still didn't answer, she continued, “Ooh, ooh, I know! Staring contest!”
Hoof was staring all right, but the cute pair of legs under Pinkie Pie's skirt gave no “contest”.
Still, politeness forced him to reply, and he replied with great trepidation, “Uhhh . . . I . . . uh, I . . . . nice balloons!”
He could have facepalmed at how stupid that phrase was. But he was about to comment on Pinkie Pie's cute legs, and his vision falling on her short skirt had saved him from what could have been sexual harassment. The design on her skirt that he'd complimented instead propelled him into “embarrassment” territory.
“Oh, thanks!” Pinkie Pie replied, completely unaware of how mortified Hoof was. “Aren't they cute? I picked this skirt out just for that design! I love balloons! They're so bouncy and colorful, just like me! Do you like balloons, too? I guess you do, or you wouldn't have said 'nice balloons', huh? Hee-hee! I'll remember today to blow up a big bunch of balloons for you, 'kay? Well, gotta go! Gotta welcome more new students! Bye-bye!” She ran back to the entrance, blew on her noisemaker, and greeted a pair of freshman students the same way she'd greeted Hoof, “Hi! I'll bet you're new here! Welcome to Canterlot High!!”
Hoof walked away, his breathing calming down and his shaking under control. As much of an ass as he'd made of himself, he was relieved Pinkie Pie was the type of girl who was flighty enough not to notice. As he walked down the nearest hall, he hoped this would be his only incident, and that the worst would be over.
“Umm, excuse me?”
Hoof passed by another girl who had called out to him, and turning to look at her, he saw that his encounter with Pinkie Pie was indeed to be unfortunately repeated.
She was adorable, with wide, innocent teal eyes and long, wavy, powder-pink hair. She held a bunch of fliers under one arm, extending one out to Hoof with her other hand. “Umm, if you don't mind,” she said in a soft, subdued voice, “would you like to take this notice for volunteers at the animal shelter?”
Hoof stared at her, feeling his face (and his crotch) get warm very quickly, just as with Pinkie Pie. He felt his legs get weaker the longer he stared at hers.
She seemed to notice after a while, and spoke up, “Um, is there something wrong?” She quickly looked down. “Is there something on my skirt?” She checked behind her, “Did I sit in something?”
Once Hoofenmouth held back a gasp after she checked her butt, common sense finally struck him. “No! No, uh, n-nothing's wrong. You're fine. Perfect. Beautiful. Oh! N-no, I didn't mean that . . . well, not that you're not beautiful, I-I just mean . . . I didn't wanna tell you that you're really hot, I—doh! I mean, I . . . . I . . .”
“Hee-hee! You're silly!” Pinkie Pie's voice chirped from behind, and she shortly followed, throwing an arm around the soft-spoken girl's shoulders. “I see you've met my friend Fluttershy! She's really nice, huh? Has she asked you to help out at the shelter yet? She's always looking for a hand!” Fluttershy merely stood right next to Pinkie, staring at the floor and looking very red-faced.
Hoof felt his own face burn, looking down at two pairs of cute legs. He quickly gave an awkward smile and wave before turning around and striding away, hoping not to think about giving Fluttershy “a hand”.
Lunch came quickly, and admittedly, Hoof almost did, as well. Attending classes and roaming the halls had provided him with the sight of more hot girls in skimpy skirts. Fortunately, he held it together, and lunch provided him with much-needed relief. He brought his sack lunch to a random empty table, emptied the bag, and began unwrapping a sandwich. Aside from the usual population of giggling girls in short skirts (they were all a good distance away), there was no reason to panic.
Until Hoof heard voices. The distance between him and another pair of cute girls was now shrinking.
“Face it, AJ, there's no way you can beat me!” one girl with rainbow-colored hair said to her friend. “I kicked your butt out on the soccer pitch and the track!”
“All right, I'll give ya that one,” replied her friend, a blonde girl in a cowgirl hat, with a twangy accent, “but when it came to the weight room and the basketball court, I had you beat! You ain't got a right to brag until we have a tiebreaker!”
Hoof glanced up, and saw that they were both standing right next to his table. In that glance, Hoof saw what they were wearing, and his hormone-induced panic reignited.
“So, what'd you have in mind?” the rainbow-haired girl smirked, crossing her arms.
The blonde merely smirked back, hands on her hips. “Arm-wrestlin',” she challenged.
“You're on! How about this table here?”
“Sounds good to me . . . . . oh.” Both girls noticed that Hoof was sitting at the indicated table. The blonde girl was the first to address him, “Uh, howdy, partner. Y'all don't mind if we use this here table, do ya?”
Hoof did not answer. He couldn't. He was putting too much effort into not staring at the blonde girl's tight denim skirt.
The rainbow-haired girl had a suspicious look in her eyes as she looked Hoof up and down. “I don't think I've seen you around here,” she said. “You must be new. That means you probably don't know who's who in 'awesome' just yet. That would be me, Rainbow Dash!” She caught him glancing at the black shorts she wore under her skirt, and she gave a cocky grin. “And don't let the skirt fool you. I am one-hundred-twenty percent athlete!”
The blonde in the hat rolled her eyes before giving a friendly smile to Hoof. “I'm Applejack. You enjoyin' your time here at CHS?”
“Uhh . . . . .” was all Hoof could reply with. For that brief second, he'd even forgotten his own name. Finally able to pry his eyes away from Applejack's legs, he turned toward his lunch and started putting it all back in the bag. “Uhh, y-you two can go ahead and use this table, i-if you want. I . . . Y-you seem like you're really busy, so I . . . I wouldn't want to interfere with your thighs—I mean you guys!! You guys! I wouldn't want to interfere with you guys! T-that other thing would be . . . kinda creepy . . . . uh, I gotta go! Bye!” And with that, he took his materials and scrambled away, adjusting the crotch of his jeans when he was sure no one was watching.
As he left, Applejack and Rainbow Dash glanced at each other. “What was that all about?” Rainbow Dash almost demanded it, looking befuddled.
Applejack shrugged. “Just needs a few days to get his bearin's, I s'pose. Well, come on, this arm ain't gonna wrestle itself!”
“It should! You'd have an easier win!”
One free period before the final class of the day, and Hoof's legs shook with every step. In his last class, he had to consciously keep from fantasizing what kind of panties the teacher wore under her green, flower-print skirt (even the lady teachers wore short skirts and knee-length boots!). It made for a very embarrassing cover-up when she'd asked him to write an answer on the board; he'd had to lie and say he didn't know it, leading to some subtle snickers rippling through the room. Now he'd drawn attention to himself, and because of his “situation”, attention was the last thing he wanted.
Now at his locker to exchange materials, Hoof stood there for a long while, his locker open and his back to the rest of the hall. The stress was starting to get to him, but he had one more class to go today. If he could get through it without running into anyone else capable of triggering his hormones, he knew he'd be fine.
Just before gathering his stuff and closing his locker, Hoof felt his hopes evaporate once again.
“Oh, all three of these designs look simply marvelous! I'm just not sure which one to go with! Decisions, decisions . . . . oh, some days, it's just so hard being so brilliant with fashion!”
Hoof glanced to his right, and did a double-take at whose locker was right next to his. She was gorgeous, with vivid blue eyes and wavy, perfectly shiny purple hair that ended in fancy, bouncy curls. Like every girl Hoof had seen today, she also wore a short skirt, but Hoof's blood raced for another reason: her tight sweater showed off a lovely, perky pair of breasts.
“Oh, if only I could meet back up with them sooner!” she cried. “Then I would at least have a second opinion!” She then glanced at Hoof, and she herself did a double-take. “You, there!” she called to him, making Hoof freeze in place. “I simply must have some insight! At this point, anyone will do! Now, what do you think of these skirt designs?” She unfolded a bundle of clothing she'd been carrying, taking one garment from them and holding it against her waist, modeling it. “Tell me, do you prefer this one?” She showed off the skirt, a short, silky peach-colored number, before switching it with a tight, even shorter skirt in dark-red leather. “Or perhaps this one?” She showed off the leather skirt, then switched it with a pleated, lavender skirt bedazzled with glitter. “Or this one? I rather like it, myself, but I'm just not sure!”
Hoof just stared, forcing himself not to picture the gorgeous purple-haired girl in any one of those hot outfits. What she was wearing now was giving him enough of a case of the jitters.
“Hmm? Is there something wrong?” she asked as she put the pleated skirt back in the bundle, starting to look puzzled at Hoof's hesitation. “Don't you like them? Why, I slaved over these designs! Come, now!”
I'd rather not, just yet, Hoof thought, wiping sweat from his pale-blue brow as his eyes traveled up her body and hit her chest.
She noticed where his eyes were going. “What are you . . . oh! You cad! Avert your eyes this instant!” she bellowed, bringing her free hand up to hide her already-covered chest.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” Hoof cried, closing his eyes tightly. “I couldn't . . . I mean, I was just . . . I-I wasn't . . . uh, th-the first one's really nice. I like tit—no! I mean, I liked it. Liked. It. Th-that's what I meant . . .”
The girl stared at Hoofenmouth for a while, then put her free hand on her hip. “Well, darling, why did you not simply say so?”
“Hey, Rarity, is something wrong?” came a voice from behind Hoof. Hoof glanced as another girl joined them. She was pretty good-looking herself; she had light lavender skin and straight, darker-purple hair with a pink streak in it. She, too, wore a short skirt, a pleated garment with a star design that matched her hair and her simple, somewhat bookish look.
“Twilight! Girls!” the girl called Rarity replied in delight. “I was hoping I'd bump into you before I left! I'd needed a second opinion on these designs, you know. And while this gentleman may carry himself in an uncouth manner before a lady, I at least have him to thank for setting me in the right direction.”
“”Uncouth'?” the girl called Twilight answered. “How? What did he do?”
Before Rarity could explain, Hoof found it better to excuse himself. “Uhh, I-I should go. You two seem busty—er, busy! Busy, I mean, so, I'll just . . . get out of your hair . . .” He stepped backwards, not seeing behind him in time. He felt someone bump him from behind, and turned quickly to see the “girls” Rarity had mentioned before. There they were—Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash and Applejack—all standing together in a group, observing the awkwardness that Hoof was trying to pull himself out of. They were accompanied by the girl Hoof had bumped into, and once again, Hoof felt the need to adjust the crotch of his pants.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” she said as she brushed back a lock of vivid red-and-yellow hair, “I didn't mean to be in your way like that. You okay?”
Hoof eyed her up and down without realizing it. She was the hottest girl he'd yet seen today. Her black biker jacket framed a pair of breasts that were even nicer than Rarity's, and the thin top she wore beneath it left little to the imagination. She wore the shortest, tightest miniskirt in the whole school (as far as Hoof could tell), and her slim, sexy legs were accentuated by her tough-looking heeled boots. As much of a bad girl as she looked, though, the look on her face contrasted heavily. She looked harmless, innocent, as if she were hoping he wouldn't be angry with her.
Hoofenmouth wasn't even capable of upset. He was no longer capable of speaking. His control over his body had failed. He couldn't even muster the strength to close his mouth.
Or hide his bulge.
The gorgeous girl looked back at him in much the same way the other girls had when they got that look from Hoof earlier in the day. She gently stroked one arm with the other hand, and her knees gently pressed together. “What?” she asked finally. “Did I say something bad? Did I do something wrong?” She then looked down at the floor and sighed. “I guess you know about me, don't you?”
Hoof said nothing. No one (not even Hoof himself) was completely aware yet that he was basically ogling her.
“Hey, I know that guy!” Rainbow Dash stepped up and spoke. “Me and Applejack saw him today at lunch! He freaked out then, too!”
“Oh, Rainbow Dash, please don't be rude,” Fluttershy calmly deprecated. “He can't help being nervous. He is new here, after all.”
Pinkie Pie stepped up next, looking at a still-unresponsive Hoof with heavy scrutiny, as if examining a clue in a murder case. She took periodic glances at the girl in the jacket as she did this, and once she was satisfied, she spoke directly to her, in a hushed voice, “I think he likes you, Sunset!”
Hoof's eyes bolted open. Pinkie Pie may have seemed a bit flighty, but she wasn't stupid. Of course, it was much more obvious by this time. Hoof may as well have ripped off his shirt and branded the words “I THINK YOU'RE HOT” on his chest with a red-hot poker.
The girl named Sunset heard this, and her eyes widened, too. She then fiddled with her hair again, and developed a faint blush. She whispered back in a soft, girlish tone, “You . . . . you think so?”
That was it. Hoof couldn't stand it any longer. Any more of this, and he wouldn't remain dry.
I have to find a bathroom, he thought urgently. I have to get this out of my system. Now.
“I GOTTA GO!” he yelled without meaning to. “BYE!!” And he raced away to the nearest restroom, covering his crotch so obviously, it looked clearly like he needed the facilities for their basic purpose.
Pinkie Pie watched him race off, and the last thing he heard her say was, “Wow . . . . welp, when you gotta go, you gotta go!”
And Hoofenmouth went. He went for nearly an hour, in a stall by himself, on his knees in front of the open toilet. Sunset's blushing face, lovely body, and alluring posture still fresh in his mind, he went strong and hard, breathing heavily and thanking his lucky stars no other guy was in the room.
Any guy with half a brain could tell what he was doing in there.
At last, Hoof zipped up his pants and flushed. He washed up at a sink, cleaning his hands and sprinkling water on his face. He felt exhausted, but he also felt much better. Now that it was over, he felt he would be better prepared to keep his feelings in check. He felt the urge to find this Sunset girl again and ask her out, but that was out of the question. She probably thought he was an idiot now, and even if she didn't, he couldn't even speak proper English around her. As much of a clumsy fool as he was in front of Twilight, Rarity, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie, there was no way he could handle a minute alone with her.
But it was over. He was very much late for his final class, but at least it would be his last class. And now that he had finally expended his excess sexual excitement, he was sure he could handle the rest of the day without tripping over his words, or having to cross his legs while sitting.
Hoofenmouth exited the men's room, stopped in the middle of the hallway, and was greeted by yet another plan-crushing sight.
Three gorgeous girls walked past the door, stopping when he'd emerged. One girl, in long, straight, purple pigtails, wore tight purple jeans on her slim hips and a scowl on her face. The second, a cutie in a blue ponytail and a short, pastel pink skirt, looked almost as flighty as Pinkie Pie. The third also wore a ponytail, but with wildly puffy orange hair that looked three times the size of the rest of her head. She appeared to be wearing a short-legged unitard and leggings.
They all looked so very sexy.
The trio saw Hoof staring, and simply stared back. An awkward silence fell over them in that hall. Very few other students passed by in the halls, increasing the weighty silence drastically. Finally, the scowling girl in tight pants crossed her arms and snapped, “What?”
“Ignore him,” the orange-haired girl ordered. “He'll look like that anyway, later on during the Battle of the Bands. They all will.”
Hoofenmouth didn't know what she was talking about. He didn't know how it could be possible to achieve maximum length after expending his built-up energy. He didn't know how he was going to explain his absence to his teacher. Still staring at the trio of beauties that had refilled his empty “horny meter”, he simply stepped backwards and back into the bathroom.
The skirted girl glanced at her friends as he left; the last thing Hoof heard her say was, “Does he have a sock in his pants?”
