Bucking Above Your Weight

Chapters

The First Part
The Second Part
The Third Part
The Fourth Part

The First Part

Featherweight glared at the mirror. His eyes darted across his face from ugly red dot to ugly red dot. He reached a hoof upwards and scraped along his cheek, sighing. His face and hair felt so greasy that he could serve some hay fries on them. He blinked. His eyes moved down from his thick mat of dark brown hair over to his big, brown eyes and finally along his bland, cream-colored body. He reached up with both front hooves, pretending to pump a set of barbells. He chattered his teeth for a moment, wiggling his small snout.

He chuckled at how stupid he thought he looked. He leaned down onto the big, fluffy red bean bag chair behind him. He slumped all his hooves to the side, taking a deep breath. I might as well face it. Mom had an affair with an oil-soaked chipmunk. That's the only explanation. His eyes slid down along his skinny hooves over to the solid gray floor. He then just stared straight down. Line after line that he had tried with the girls from his class and from around the neighborhood bounced around in his skull.

"Hey, Twist, wouldn't you maybe be interested if..."

"Hey, Blueberry, wouldn't it be cool if maybe we could..."

"Diamond Tiara, wow, you're looking so pretty today! Maybe we..."

"You know, Applebloom, if you don't have anything to do this afternoon..."

"Sweetie Belle, I really like your mane! Maybe, you and I could..."

Featherweight closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. He kicked against the bean bag in sheer frustration. It's not fair! He took a deep breath. It's just not fair at all! He stood up. He glanced around his room. Poster after poster of suave, tall, and cleanly built ponies just seemed to shine at him. He stepped over to the big image of Doctor Gunn from Secret Agent Stallions, his favorite show ever, and he ran a hoof against the glossy poster.

"Is it just a matter of years?" Featherweight asked. Doctor Gunn just smiled back at Featherweight, making that same pose with Gunn's hooves gripping a thick missile launcher as Gunn tipped his fancy black fedora. "Maybe... it's far from all of it. But it's part of it."

He turned around, walking to the end table at the corner of his room. He took a nice, long sip from his mom's tea that she had just made for him. Mom... Dad... they were less than my age when they met, weren't they? He recalled that nice line that his dad had said again and again-- "she kissed me on the cart, but she made me promise not to tell." They had just gotten their cutie marks before they had spotted each other, eyes over the crowds at the local ice cream shop.

Featherweight glanced down at the feather on his flanks. His cousin used to always joke about it being his "unbearable lightness of being". He looked over at the area in between his legs, and he felt even more terrible than before. Getting your cutie mark is one thing. It's not nearly important as... your cherry.

He had long since shoved every last conversation that he had overheard deep into his subconscious. Whenever Snails, Spike, or anyone else had bragged about their exploits while sitting around the park, he had conveniently made his exit. His cherry stung. It seemed to continuously hurt him-- like one of those nasty spider bites that lasted for weeks and weeks. This far along, pony after pony should have found a special someone. It's just the natural flow of life. What the hay is wrong with me?

He let his mind wander, and he imagined the tall, perky human girl that always hung around the restaurant where he worked. She had worn the cutest, prettiest top that he had ever seen, bouncing about with each step. It seemed so weird that human girls had those wiggling things up on their chests instead of down between their legs like pony girls, but-- at any rate-- that woman's chest looked so big that he almost felt surprised that she could stand up straight.

She had such a funny nickname-- some kind of riff on Twilight. 'Daylight' was it? I might have caught it a few times. Featherweight recalled her smooth, sleek skin along her arms and shoulders as Featherweight's own hooves moved down his flanks. He felt a rush of warmth inside of him.

Featherweight pictured her soft, cuddly cheeks and her perpetual smile. He didn't even know her real name, and yet she had burned into his mind so well that she could almost be standing around him 24/7. He felt so wonderful. His eyes blinked open, and he spotted his own reflection instead. His fantasies popped like a balloon, leaving nothing but a near-foal, near-stallion mix with a dollop of white film on his hooves.

"Enough of this!" Featherweight yelled. He felt ready to fight. He had nopony else around him besides the gangly colt in the mirror. He reached out and pretended to buck against the glass. "Horseapples!" He brushed himself off on a towel atop a bookshelf in the corner.

He took a very deep breath, almost sucking in a fly. Sulking in here doesn't help in the slightest. He stood up, and he headed out the bedroom door. I have to talk to someone. Maybe... He went through a hallway out towards the back door. Wait a second, maybe I shouldn't talk... I should look things up. He felt a light-bulb going off in his head. I'm obviously not the first colt to feel this way, and I'm sure that other, now-grown-up stallions have written about what to do.

He put on an empty saddlebag, and he headed out down Ponyville's main street. He took in the busy surroundings as he went towards Twilight's library. Pony after pony walked about doing their own business, waving at friends and clutching their coltfriends or marefriends close. All of them paid no attention to him. I might as well fade into the blasted wall of a blasted jewelry store or something. He stopped, leaning up against a long red bench besides Colgate's Dentistry. He glanced into the bushes around him, and he saw something that looked like a discarded bag of bits.

"Oooh!" he called out. He leaned over and stuck out a hoof, his rear backing up a little into the street.

*Smack!*

Somepony ran right into Featherweight's flanks. He tossed around into the bushes, feeling the branches slapping across his fur. He shot up into place, grimacing from the dozens of tiny pains. "Hey!"

"Sorry! Really, sorry!" Twilight yelled, stopping for a moment to look backward but still jogging in place. "It's another attack of radiation over-exposure!" Sweat just poured off of her face, and her mane flopped around with loose strands poking out all over.

"Attack?"

"Another human, collapsing from a solar overdose! If he doesn't get home to his planet soon, he'll probably die! I have to hurry for him! I have to treat him now!" Twilight rattled off, and she turned around. "I'm really sorry, Featherweight!" She reached out with a hoof.

Featherweight took the hoof and nodded. He could tell how Twilight really had to go. She smiled. She ran out down the street, hopping around pony after pony in the way. "Oh, poor Peaches, hang in there!"

"Humans can't stay too long in Equestria, or bad things happen to them. I knew that." Featherweight tried to keep the implications out of his mind, trying not to sully his idealistic view of pretty human women. He glanced back down to where he had leaned over. He picked up the loose bag. No bits? Rats! He suddenly noticed a small, red book.

Oh, dear, Twilight must have dropped this. She'll probably be super busy for a while. I'll just leave it at her library with Spike for her. He brushed off the dirt from the cover. Hmmm, this is interesting.

"Age-Adjustment Spells: A Study of Ethics in Magic by Garden Pruner," he read aloud. "Huh. That's an odd name for a magic pony." He opened it up and skimmed through a few pages. "I guess that these spells for ponies were first developed for plants. That's fascinating." He flipped over to the last couple chapters. He suddenly froze. "Chapter VII: Speeding Up Puberty?"

Featherweight's heart started to rattle inside his chest, making him quiver. He slid the book down into his saddlebag. He looked up at the sky. He smiled as wide as he could ever remember, feeling more determined than he ever had.

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"I don't think this is a good idea," Sweetie Belle said for the umpteenth time. She held up Garden Pruner's book as her horn glowed, and a warm, worried look flashed over her cute features once again.

"Just prepare to fire," Featherweight replied. He backed himself up against the cold, blank wall. He glanced down at the big circle that she had drawn in chalk around him. They had shoved everything out of the way, leaving him totally isolated just in case. Standing in the basement room of Rarity's boutique, they knew that nopony would notice, anyways.

"Like I said before, I think you're really over-estimating what I can do. I know that I got a real growth spurt, and my magic has gotten a lot more powerful these past couple--"

"Sweetie, please," Featherweight said, putting on a pair of thick black goggles. He clutched a set of fluffy pink earmuffs as he sat down, his bottom hooves sliding up against the small wine bottle and tiny bag of dried potions in front of him. "I know that you can do it. I know about all the risks. I take full responsibility. You just have to believe in yourself, and the spell will work."

"Featherweight," Sweetie said, and she watched as the colt poured the bag's glittery yellow contents into the wine. The alcohol turned from sparkling white to something like liquid gold. "All you need to do is to wait. You'll look different. It's... it's just natural. You know how weird Snails looked before he got older? And, goodness, so what if you find that every girl you want is taken or not interested? You just try again." She prepared to ramble on again, but she could tell from Featherweight's angry expression, his eyes narrowing, that he wouldn't listen.

"You'll never leave Spike, will you?" Featherweight asked. Sweetie felt taken aback, shuffling a step behind. Featherweight sucked down the magical wine with one gulp, with his eyes focused on Sweetie the whole time.

"Why... no," she finally replied. She took a gulp. "In our hearts, we've... it's..." She glanced around the room evasively.

Featherweight gritted his teeth. "In your heart, he's already married you. Right?" He spat out that last word, jealousy coursing through his veins like a poison.

"Right." She closed her eyes, and her horn lit up even brighter.

Featherweight coughed. He felt his hooves shivering as the potion started to take effect. He looked down, and thick blotches of nasty yellow popped up upon his belly. He tried to keep himself from panting. "Please, Sweetie. Do it for me. As a friend."

"Alright," she answered. She almost bit her lip, and she buried her face in the book.

Featherweight put the earmuffs on. It made no blasted sense why he couldn't see or hear the exact spell, but the book insisted on the point, warning about the possibility of his eyes and ears popping out of his head like corks from a bottle. He felt desperate, not stupid. He shut his eyes tight.

He felt Sweetie's magic finally rippling across his body. At first, he felt unbelivably cold, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. Sensations of ticklish rubbing followed, with his body shooting bursts of half-pleasure and half-pain into his mind. He opened his mouth, moaning. Everything amped up, and his moans turned into a low hum. He couldn't believe it all. He could almost taste Sweetie's magic pouring into his mouth, licking his lips. The coldness turned into heat-- deep and powerful heat. He finally heard a loud, snapping sound inside of his brain.

"Wow, praise Celestia! It worked!"

Featherweight ripped off the goggles and earmuffs. He wiggled his head, blinking furiously. I don't feel any different. He reached out for a mirror. Sweetie ran over to him, smiling, and she turned him over to face a big plate of glass against the other wall.

"No! It didn't work!" Featherweight yelled.

"What? Are you serious? You look different!"

Featherweight sped over to the mirror. He saw a face without grease and pimples but featuring the same small snout. He looked several inches taller. His hooves seemed several inches wider. He felt stronger. And, yet, it all seemed nothing like he had expected. He pressed a hoof against the glass. I'm just a little older. It's like the big, important things are the same. Same bad expression. Same bad hair. Same silly ears. His mouth hung open. It's Sweetie! She was too weak-- the spell only half-working!

"I'm not a stallion. I'm just a teenager," he said.

"Of course!" Sweetie called out, giving him a happy hug. "No more acne, no more bad posture, and now--" She squeezed him even closer. "You're old enough to date adults!"

He broke the hug. He opened his mouth to reply, but he said nothing. An ocean of emotions tossed about inside of his mind. Am I... is... is this really so bad? He held a hoof against his larger, more chisled features. I guess I've gone from 'pathetic tween' to 'bland teenager'. That's a step up, right?

"Just call you 'Middleweight'!" Sweetie commented, throwing a towel at him.

He grabbed it, rubbed it across his shoulders, and he finally smiled.

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Melissa picked up the paper basket of hay fries, emptying it out into her mouth. She crumpled it up, threw it into a nearby wastebasket, and she slid her back against the side of the restaurant. She looked out at the couples sitting around the bright white benches just a few feet away. She rubbed her right hand along her shoulder.

"Poor Peaches," she muttered. She flashed back to seeing that cheerful, devoted guy handing her a first aid kit during her last visit to the Ponyville Clinic. Nurse Redheart stayed right at his side, a hoof rubbing up against his leg. "God... they're like husband and wife, aren't they?" Melissa recalled that soft and warm 'come here, baby' smile that the mare had given Peaches after Melissa had grabbed the kit and waved goodbye. "I can't believe that I once thought it so damn weird for a pony to find a human guy." I should have just realized things would always be weird in Ponyville.

Despite the disturbingly large influx of humans, most of them male for goodness knows what reason, something like a third or maybe half of the humans had picked up a significant other. Those ponies... I guess it's a lot less odd for one of them to end up falling in love a human compared to a dragon, a griffon, a giant friggin' snake thing, or other talking, walking things out there. Spike with Sweetie Belle makes less sense than Peaches with Nurse Redheart-- at least both of them are mammals. Melissa walked over through the benches, ponies from Roseluck to Junebug to Rarity all giving a friendly wave, and she headed out into the street.

"Ironic enough," she groused to herself, "that I'd never meet someone nice. Oh, no. How impossible." She tried to cheer herself up, thinking about the rest of her day. "Time to head on over to Pinkie's place!" That mare always brightened things up.

It rubbed Melissa pretty sore that the Canterlot and Ponyville authorities wanted to keep humans apart from each other in general, although they would never dream of implementing the kind of apartheid-like measures that would make that bland, formal policy a reality. As she walked down Ponyville's main street, she recalled having arguments with Twilight about it all. The unicorn had cried real, deep tears, surprising Melissa, as she had screamed out how humans absolutely could not stay in Equestria that long until their sun's radiation would "melt them from the inside out"-- and how putting humans in contact together simply sped all that up.

Melissa ran her hands through her long, frizzy red hair. "God. It's enough to just make you go insane when you think about it too hard." She stopped, sitting on the bench besides Colgate's Dentistry. She curled over her legs and stuck them against the end of the bench, with her flip-flops waving in the air. Everything's too damn small for us humans in Ponyville. She rubbed her long, skinny legs against the metal, looking down at how she only had about two feet between the bench and the ground. She reached into her small, bright blue jeans shorts and fingered for a pack of gum.

She chewed as she watched the ponies go by. She blew a big pink bubble out as she spotted a small white unicorn foal with tall grayish white parents. Their fluffy white manes blew in the gentle day's breeze as they grabbed their sun, everypony smiling. She popped her bubble. Families everywhere. Or couples. With boyfriends. No guys out on their own freaking anywhere.

Melissa folded her arms against her perky white top. It just didn't seem fair. For some weird reason, Equestria seemed to have ten females for every male if not more so. She had asked Twilight why, but she had tuned out pretty quickly as the long lecture about hormonal balances during fetal development began. Melissa sighed a little. Dammit, it makes me feel like a whore. But it's just... it's nothing like that. Not like I give a damn about when or where I last got laid. Not at all! I just feel so goddamn isolated.

Her eyes bounced from pony to pony. Is it really so goddamn bad for me to miss-- and, oh, miss so freaking badly-- the days when I could hang out at the University cafeteria while having a nice guy with a nice personality and nice smile pull the whole 'maybe we could do something later' routine? Mare after mare filled the bustling street, with their manes looking sharp and their hats poised atop their pretty heads.

Is it really so bad to just want to spend a little bit of time with some guy having both an open mind and a big heart, with stuff left open that maybe things could get serious later? It's just that I can't stand to be so isolated! She chuckled a little, although she didn't really have a reason. Come on! I'm not even restricting myself to a guy of the same species!

*Rustle!*

She heard a loud coughing from somewhere behind her. She glanced up. Seeing nothing, she shifted about in place on the bench, feeling curious.

To Be Continued...

The Second Part

"Hey, Daylight!" Bon Bon asked, standing up straight besides Melissa. "Do you mind if I ask something, maybe something odd?"

She had long gotten past giggling at her nickname, although it often gave her a smile. Something to do with Pinkie's love for red-haired humans compared to how irked she's been with Twilight... I guess it's a hell of a lot better than 'Scamper', 'Snoopy', and the like that Pinkie has branded on those poor human visitors. She looked back at the chipper mare. "Sure."

"Why do you always sit on benches like that, Daylight?" Bon Bon asked, sliding her head down. "You sit like I sit. Like ponies sit. You don't try to stick out your legs like other humans and... uh... Lyra does."

"Maybe if the benches weren't so damn short," she replied. She shifted over, danging her legs in the air in front of the bench. "And I don't want to trip anyone." She paused, not sure how to respond to Bon Bon's blank expression. "Or, what the hell, maybe I just subconsciously want to be a mare just like the rest of you." She snorted as she laughed. I suppose that might make finding a guy out there a hell of a lot easier!

"Okie-dokie!" Bon Bon commented, pushing a hoof through her mane. Daylight watched as the mare flipped around and headed on down the street. Daylight's eyes traced Bon Bon's fluttering tail, her hair rubbing up against her smooth flanks. Is that what the human guys see in them? The tails? The manes? The personalities?

Daylight whistled, moving over and just gazing up at the clear blue sky. It's like World of freaking Warcraft or something, where you have orcs and elves together having kids that date human hybrids with troll parents. Or it's just mad scientist mixing gone out of control. I don't get... I understand that the fun parts fit and fit pretty damn well, but that can't just be it. Can it?

She thought about picking up the delivery of cakes from Sugarcube Corner. She slid up in the bench, preparing to get back up, but she spotted a sign at the jewelry store besides her. 'Half-Off Sale Today'? 'This Friday Only'? That's the last freakin' place I'd expect to see go out of business.

She stood up, and she felt a light-bulb going off inside her mind. This Friday... She clapped her hands together. Oh, what an idiot I've been! Pinkie, Lulu, the special meeting with Twilight, and all that-- it's all tomorrow! She glanced around at the gaggles of ponies flowing across the street as she idly stepped forwards. And does that mean I have the whole afternoon with nothing to do? Dammit!

"Excuse m-me, ma'am."

Daylight's eyes flipped around. "Huh?"

"M-may I s-speak w-with you?"

She made a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn and faced the bench where she had just sat. An adorable looking cream-colored colt with a soft, curly face and fluffy brown hair soaked in sweat-- nervousness just dripping off of every inch of him-- looked right at her. She shifted a little back, taking in his big, loving eyes. Well... this guy is new.

"Oh, you can say whatever you want," she replied, smirking as she put her hands against her shoulders.

"I... I... uh... I w-was j-just walking around here..." he muttered, trying not to gaze right at her for too long with his head shifting around. "I mean, I w-was going around... I w-was g-going by the jewelry store... and..." He took a big gulp, trying to straighten his quaking hooves. "I was wondering if I could ask you something." He put a lot of determination and resolve into that last sentence, locking his bottom hooves together.

"Join the club," Daylight sarcastically remarked, folding her arms. She saw the colt look totally confused, and she immediately went on. "No, it's fine. What is it?"

"Could we maybe get a bite to eat?" he asked, looking right up to her with his head lined up alongside her jeans shorts. She looked back down at him, and she suddenly felt a wave of calmness, some kind of smoothness, coming over her. "You and I?" He made a hopeful smile. "Together?"

Oh! Holy cheese and crackers! I'm being propositioned! She felt like pumping a fist into the air in success. She opened her mouth, pausing to find the right words. Dozens of stray thoughts fought each other deep in her subconscious. The colt, still totally shaken from even the mere idea of talking to a girl like her, waited with baited breath.

I give him a D in confidence, a C in style, an A in politeness, and an A+ in sheer flippin' adorableness. Daylight's eyes moved from his little brown hair tuft on the back of his head to his comically huge saddlebag and finally over to the freckles beneath his enormous eyes. Oh, come on! She had a knack for making snap decisions with barely any thought other than instinct-- for better or for worse. It came as natural as breathing. That all averages out to a B, doesn't it?

"Sure!" Daylight smiled as she leaned down, coming inches from the colt's face. She put her hands on her knees.

"What?" Featherweight asked back. He seemed to blush a variety of different colors, clearly not understanding.

"Let's go right now! Why wait?" She picked up one of his front hooves with both hands. He seemed as limp as an old jellyfish on a beach. She saw him sweating even more, his mind spinning abou behind his huge brown eyes.

"S-sure," he meekly commented. He blinked again and again rapidly. Daylight stood up straight, letting go of his hooves. He gazed at them in the air, clearly hardly believing that he had actually just touched her.

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Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosssssssssh! Featherweight's heart beat almost out of control as she walked side by side with the creature of his dreams. The tall, slender, alien girl-- her light, soft exotic flesh matching her exotic features from her huge exotic chest to her exotic flowing, bright red hair-- seemed more like something from one of those late night shows that his mom wouldn't let him watch than anything real.

And yet there he stood, with some kind of sharp raspberry-ish perfume rubbed off of her smooth skin upon his hooves. A real sexy alien enchantress! Sexy feminine alien with alien breasts in that weird place from an alien planet, her anti-magic powers arising from her alien sun! Oh, Celestia! Her body posed right above him as he stepped. He could hardly manage to keep it all together.

But he had to. I can do this. I can do this. I'm not me. He glanced down at his reflection in a nearby puddle, seeing a face without the acne standing several inches taller and wider looking back at him. I will do this!

"Let's go to Lulu's," Daylight said.

"Right."

She put a hand to her chin, thinking some more. "Oh, forget that. It's too formal."

"Right."

"Granted, that's silly to say, a family place like that being 'formal'. But I feel like I don't want something middle-brow, or however you say it in Equestria."

"Right."

"How about we head to Chucky's Diner? More relaxed, more smooth. We can just watch the birds in the pond."

"Right."

She stopped. She held her hands against her head, and she laughed heartily. "You know!" She locked eyes with the painfully nervous colt. "Just because we're on a date doesn't mean that you have to agree with everything I say."

He took a gulp. "Right..."

She pretended to slug him, letting out a torrent of giggles. He slid down to the ground, not understanding things at all. She pulled her head back, waving her long hair in the wind for a moment as she recomposed herself. He swooned, just drinking in her big smile with her lips looking as red as cherry ice cream.

"A little anxious, aren't we? I don't think you ever even gave me your name, sweetie pie," she remarked as she turned to the left, heading over to Chucky's place.

"Featherweight," he replied, not even thinking. He stopped, and he ran a hoof against his face. No! You dummy! "Uh, I usually go by 'Middleweight', especially since I got out of school and got my job and everything. Featherweight is what they called me as a foal." He nodded for emphasis, his thick hair going over his eyes.

"Daylight," she said, making a mock salute, "at your service. Also known as 'Melissa Michelle Barone' back on, uh, my home planet." She chuckled at those last few words, reaching out her hands far above her head with her fingers intertwined. "Oh, God, I'll never get tired of being able to refer to 'back in my planet' or 'over at my planet' or 'things in my planet' or whatever. It's so, like, surreal."

"Happy to see you again, Daylight," he commented. He avoided face-hoofing again, but he felt a black sinking feeling bubble up inside of them. Ugh! Again! Remember-- she's not supposed to know that you'd been gazing at her from afar for like weeks! If she knew, she'd be all creeped out! Think, you idiot!

"I like it, eh," she said, not paying attention to his words. "Melissa Michelle Barone sounds like the name of a former Republican House Speaker appointed Secretary of the Treasury or something. It just reeks corporate-y things. All I need is a suit and then I'm ready to evict some homeless tribes from their homes to build an oil drill or something." She blew a raspberry.

Featherweight started to say 'Right', but he caught himself just in time. He blinked, scrunching his face up, and he went with, "Okay."

"Here we are, Middleweight," she said, stepping up over onto a small green platform besides the diner. The actual building looked more like a big rectangular gray block from a giant's toy set than anything with ponies inside of it. "Oh, hey!" She slapped herself on the thigh. "You wouldn't mind it-- weird question, but stay with me-- I call you M.W.?"

"Uhh..." He stepped right in front of the window to order, looking out at the empty wooden benches around them and then out at the sparkly blue lake.

"It's a silly reference to this Newgrounds animation thing," she went on, "you look a lot like the one character. He's this, like, chipmunk. But he's a heavy metal guitarist. But the racist chipmunk hating rabbits try to drive him out of down, and then you have to like-- click, click, click, click!" She rattled her fingers against the building's wall. "Real fast. And then there's the racing section where M.W.'s new Mustang is chased by the squirrel police motorcycles all Steve McQueen style." She pretended to steer a wheel. "Then! He grabs his Les Paul to like comb--" She stopped, seeing how he was blankly staring at her with mouth open. "Oh, uh, whatever." She scratched her head.

Pay attention to what she's saying! No matter whatever it is! I'm sure that Newgrounds is a very important nation-state back on her planet, maybe with like a giant army with of chipmunks ravaging her own home country! "M.W. it is!" Featherweight said, sliding a hoof in the air as if checking off an imaginary box.

"Yo, Chucky!" She yelled into the half-open window, with nothing visible but a register, a tip jar, and stacks of various ingredients up on the wall.

"Yo, Daylight!" a husky, deep voice yelled back from deep inside the building.

"We want a fried cheese and egg sandwich with the melted cheddar dripping onto the little fried curly potato bits in there. Regular corn sticks on the side. Large iced tea." She leaned up against the wall and tapped her leg up and down.

"As you wish, your most exalted majesty," replied the voice. A couple pans clanged about from out of sight.

She slapped the windowsill, curling up her eyebrows and making mock-indignation. "And it'd damn well be sweet iced tea. Damn sweet. Like pixies snorting cocaine off of a lollipop sweet!"

They just heard a loud grunt in response.

"Oh, hey, M.W. baby, what do you want?" she asked, her head flipping over towards him.

He coughed nervously. He took a little breath, and he answered, "I usually just eat what my mom gets whe--" He stopped mid-sentence. He looked down, clearly wanting to smash his face upon the concrete in sheer embarrassment. "Uh, what I meant to say was, uh..." He brushed a hoof through his thick brown mane. "I like that stuff too." He smiled a very awkward smile, his curly freckled cheeks turning red.

"Yo, chucky!" Daylight hollered once again. "Whatever the hell I just said-- make two of that!"

Just like before, they simply heard a loud grunt in response. Daylight smiled, and she plopped herself along half of the long reddish-brown bench closest to the lake. She reached over and dragged closer the nearby table. She looked back, waving him over. He cautiously sat at the other end of the bench, trying not to get too physical too soon and seem imposing.

She gazed at the two bright white ducks flopping out across the water, and she made a happy sigh. She glanced back at 'M.W.', and she pulled an arm over the back of the bench. "You're paying, right?"

His face seemed to melt, his hooves clattering together. He shifted his saddlebag onto his chest. "Oh, I've got-- I've brought some-- I just-- I wasn't sure--"

"Oh, M.W.," she remarked, leaning her head back and giggling. "This is like the cheapest place in all of Ponyville. You're safe. And, by the way--" She suddenly leaned over and poked him on the shoulder. "If I was all about the money, then I'd have asked Twilight to transfer me over to Coltsville and have me turn tricks on Squarg Street for horny little dragons. That's not me."

Featherweight made a sharp, embarrassingly feminine squeal at her poke. That just seemed to amuse her even more, Daylight almost biting her lip to keep from laughing. He brushed up his body a few inches closer, and they both looked out at the lake. A dozen of ducks ventured over to patch of mossy rocks nearby from the far end of the water.

He looked over at her left hand, now resting against the wooden plank only a few inches from his right hoof, and he tried to focus. Her fingers rubbed idly against the wood for a moment. He watched the ducks once again, coughing nervously, and he slid over. Her fingers brushed up against his fur, feeling as wonderful as always. Praise Celestia! I'm doing it! I'm breaking through to her heart! He made a huge smile.

"So, M.W., tell me about yourself," she said, still looking out at the ducks. "What's like life? You've always lived here?"

"Ponyville is in my blood," he replied. He shivered a little, feeling pulses of pleasure, as she curled her fingers around his hoof. Focus, now. It's time for smooth talk. Girls love the smooth talk. All you need is to relax, be smart, and be perceptive. "My family's been here. I grew up here. I went to school here." Technically not a lie since I'm still going to school here but I did used to too!

"Interesting, staying in one place a lot," she said, "I always moved around. Didn't have a choice, with my parents' jobs. Still really attached to the Windy City, though. I guess it just happened to be that crucial period of my life, between being a kid and really being mature, and I saw the downtown as like a playground." He saw memories flashing back behind her eyes, her face looking really reflective and almost wistful.

"Yeah, it's good to have dreams." He slid even closer, his bottom hooves lining up besides her legs. Her fingers moved up his hooves over to his shoulder, resting against his body. He felt just so connected. "Past and present. My dream has always been to move to Canterlot and work for The Canterlot Times. Not just to pick up scoops, but to be responsible and really try to get involved in the details of all the issues. Knowledge for knowledge's own sake, right?" He stopped. Don't drone on. Don't focus too much on yourself, but keep the conversation going. It's like tossing around a ball-- go back and forth. And the goal is to get each other so familiar. Remember what your father said! Girls love nothing more than the sound of their own voices!

"Sounds cool," she commented. She took a deep breath.

"So, uh, Daylight," Featherweight said. He ran a hoof idly against his chest. "Tell me about your home planet."

"Home planet," she repeated, giggling.

"It sounds fascinating," he said, turning around and facing her directly. "So, you used to live in a floating cloud-city of wind where there are these nasty rabbit things known as 'Republicans' that try to stop people and animals from drilling for 'heavy metal' by siccing the 'squirrel police' on them." He stroked his chin, lowered his eyebrows, and otherwise tried to look intellectual. "Very fascinating."

To Be Continued...

The Third Part

Daylight knelt down, getting off of the bench, and her body shook. Featherweight leaned down, having no idea what to think. Before he could say anything else, she let out a torrent of deep, loud laughs, slapping her hands against her shorts over and over again. A couple tears dotted down her cheeks.

"Daylight, I..."

"Oh my God!" She stood up and put her hands on Featherweight's shoulders, her body still quivering a bit. "You-- are-- simply-- priceless!" She stepped back before burying her face in her hands, taking big breaths.

Oh, no. Oh, praise Celestia, no. I've lost her. That's it. He tried to keep from screaming, forcing himself to say still. He felt something like a stick, freezing cold mercury coursing through his insides. What the hay was wrong with me? For me, a loser without a shred of hope, to ask out a freaking alien temptress! His mouth ran totally dry. He stood up, lining himself up right besides Daylight, and he tried to concentrate. "Daylight. I have to say that--"

"I like you," she said, leaning down and massing his back with both hands. "I really like you. You're going to be a whole hell of a lot of fun to hang around with for a long, long time."

What? He simply froze in place. What! "Oh, thanks," he muttered, just managing to force those words out. He pressed his hooves against his cheeks as Daylight turned around. He looked up and saw a big green hoof sticking out of the window besides two plates and two glasses. Daylight reached over, and Featherweight just put his saddlebag into her hand. He felt numb. 'For a long, long time'? She said that! She meant it, too!

The whole thing finally struck him as Daylight slid over a batch of bits and clutched both plates. I did it! I won! She likes me! No idea why, by-- my goodness-- she actually likes me! He just beamed, feeling as if his mind would sail on out into space. Daylight silently put the plates down on the table, rested his saddlebag at the end of the bench, and went back for the glasses.

He gazed at the greasy sandwich before him, cheese dripping all over of a hunk of scrambled egg mashed in golden brown pieces of fried potatoes. He put his hooves around the ends and took a whiff. Oh, wow, this smells fantastic! He looked at the small cobs of corn on the side of the plate, and he grinned.

Two tall white glasses clinked down onto the table besides him. He watched as Daylight sat down, and he moved his hooves down below the tabletop. He looked up at her, wondering about the etiquette. Do I need a napkin? Do I need to cut stuff up into slices first? He looked up at Daylight, and she pointed down at both plates.

"Food," she muttered, "goes in here." She pointed over at her mouth. She chuckled at her own silly joke for a moment before taking a huge bite of her sandwich. Grease dripped down her neck onto her top, and she didn't care in the slightest.

He shrugged, and he munched through his plate. He heard Daylight nosily slurping, and he didn't hold back either. She sucked down some of her iced tea, and he attacked his own glass. He filled up his mouth, and he had to stop, his eyes almost bulging from the sudden taste. Holy moley! This is like a liquid cupcake! So-- blasted-- sweet! He gulped it down slowly. He looked over at Daylight, already about half-way done.

He let out a little sigh. Wow, she's like... where is she putting all that? He ate the rest of his sandwich, savoring the thick cheesy taste. I'll be she has like three stomachs. More than one heart too. If comic books have taught me anything, it's that alien anatomy is always freaky-deaky. She already finished off her plate, tossing it over into a nearby trash can. He shrugged, and he started on his cobs of corn.

She sipped the rest of her iced tea, gazing over at him. He felt very self-conscious, trying in vain to keep from blushing for the umpteenth time. He finally stopped, feeling full, and he thought about trying to toss the plate over through the air as well. He pictured missing completely and smashing the plate against a duck's head as a burst of quacks fill the air. He shuddered for a split-second, and he just got up and walked over to the trash can.

"So, M.W.," she said, rubbing her hands along her legs. "Thanks! That was great!"

"Sure!" He halted as she got up. Well, hold on a moment... is this it? This is really it? This is my first time asking a girl out? My first date? It was over so blasted fast! She stepped back over in the direction of where she came from, back over to the jewelry store in downtown Ponyville. He followed for a moment, sliding his head to the side. That can't be it!

He felt half crushed and half totally engrossed by Daylight's curvy rear, her jeans shorts fitting so tightly along her back. Her legs looked longer than flag poles, and he couldn't believe how her pretty rear swayed as she walked. He popped his hooves against his head, trying to snap out of things. No, stop it! The date is over, isn't it?

"Let's walk and talk." She waved back and motioned him to come closer.

"Oh, thank goodness," he whispered, sounding so quiet that he couldn't even hear himself. "That wasn't it." He sped over right by her side.

"So, you grew up around here," she said, leading him down a smaller, more out of the way path going around a bunch of trees behind storefronts. "Your parents did too. I'm just curious, but-- please-- tell me a little more about that." She held her hands together, looking all around at the tall, danging branches all over them. Her shoes mashed against the mossy gravel.

"Sure," he replied. He hesitated, but he leaned up and tried to up against her. She kept on looking up as he brushed along her legs moment by moment. "No problem." Wow! She's... she's let me be so intimate with her already... and we just really met. Where's she taking me, though?

"I've spent most of my life hanging out where my parents hung out. Which, I must admit, is both bogus and sad," he said, throwing a hoof in the air with mock melodrama.

Daylight made a 'whatever' sort of shrug.

"A sort of a second home is this one ice cream place. It's actually the same place where my parents first met," he said. "That's a funny story, actually."

"I dunno," she remarked. "Tell me all about it. Tell me everything."

"It is kind of a long story..."

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"And then my dad poised himself over Autumn, that bully's face all covered with nasty red marks. He was lucky to be still breathing." Featherweight popped up and made a pretend bucking motion. "My dad leaned over, offering a hoof to her. He said 'are you okay' with his usual meek voice. My mom pattered her torn dress, trying to look nice enough, and she magically gripped his hoof best she could as he pulled her up." She acted out the end of the scene. "My poor mom never did have strong enough magic to defend herself, but she said that my dad would always be sort of the superhero to always be there."

"Wow, it's like a soap opera when you look at it," Daylight remarked. She leaned up against a thick, old oak tree, idly kicking into the air.

"Sure," he said. He stopped walking as well, scratching his head. "Sorry that I've kind of rambled on." He took a deep breath. "It's also not exactly the sort of topic you'd usually talk about on your first date."

"Oh, no," she said, sliding over and running her hand along a long branch. "This is a hell of a lot more interesting than this 'what's your sign', 'what are your pets like', 'what's the last movie you saw, and stuff-- all that garbage I've wasted so much time hearing." Oh, Featherweight, or whatever you want to call yourself... you should stop putting yourself down so much. Think more of yourself. She smirked. I suppose I could help with that.

"Okay." He glanced all around at the end of the little mini-forest. "Where are we?"

"These," she said, pointing up at the generic white building with the occasional grey stripe besides her. "Are the 'Sunnyside Apartments'." She stepped backwards and made a silly 'super-star' kind of pose. "How glamorous! And, as you can see, they are neither in a sunny place nor at the side of anything-- not to mention looking more like trailers stacked atop each other than apartments." She put on an overly dramatic voice. "It's the place of the stars!"

He giggled.

"So, I'm home."

"Right."

"And that means, I have to say, thanks for walking me home," she said, stepping over to a set of metal stairs on the next wall. Featherweight followed several feet behind. "And thanks for everything. This was really nice."

"Right."

Oh, here we go again! "Remember our little conversation about the word 'right'," she said, suddenly looking very serious.

"Oh, Daylight, I didn't..." he murmured, starting to sweat as a cold chill went across his face, "I meant... something..."

"Oh, M.W. or Featherweight or whoever you are," she said, rubbing her back up against the blank concrete behind her. "You should have seen your face!" She let out her usual torrent of giggles, flashing her beautiful smile.

He nervously chuckled.

"Well, then," she said, stepping up a little bit onto the first few steps, "this is the end of all that."

He nodded, gazing up at her with those huge eyes of his. They looked like gigantic oceans of brown that she could just leap into and swim into forever, feeling so totally safe and secure. He seemed to take deep breath after deep breath, head swirling with emotions.

She nodded back. She looked up at the door to her second-floor apartment. Well, that really was nice. I got my wish. I met my 'nice guy'. And, here I am, back at my place. I'll get myself a glass of something good. She rubbed a hand against the wall. I'll get a good book. I'll go through the newspaper. I'll go through my to-do list for tomorrow. She dug her fingers into the concrete. It seemed so barren, so lifeless. She could almost feel the grooves in the cold concrete sucking the life-force out of her. I'll get ready for bed. I'll get to bed. I'll sleep. Alone. Again. She pictured the huge, always open window in her apartment, exposed to the moonlight that bathed her her figure night after night. Alone.

"Goodnight, uh, Daylight," Featherweight said. He started to turn around.

"Hey, wait a sec," she called out. She watched as he flipped over and sat down on the path. She opened her mouth again, making nothing intelligible. Are you really doing this, Melissa? She shut her mouth as she ran her hands down her sides and hovered them besides her shorts. Do you really want to do this? She felt her face scrunching, her breaths becoming short. Are you really going to do this colt? She closed her eyes. Melissa, do you really think he'll... he'll... be there for you, day after day later on? Especially if you'll go this far with him right tonight.

"Daylight?"

She held up a hand in the air. She felt a dark wave of something like itchy, scratchy sensations popping up inside of her head. "I..." She started to cry. She heard him trotting up the stairs over to her, and she sat down, her back rubbing up against those horrible, rusted metal railings. She smacked her hand against the wall. Alone! I can't freaking take it anymore! I can't live like this! I can't be like this! I can't be like a stupid painting or something just in the background, with ponies smiling at me and being all happy but otherwise leaving me alone. "Alone," she moaned.

She felt his hoof touching her leg for a second before withdrawing, not sure how far he thought he could go. Her eyes still closed, she immediately gripped that hoof with both hands. She heard him shifting about, trying to get a better place on the stairs, and she smiled. Are you really going to go through with this?

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She opened her eyes, and she took a happy sigh. "Nothing's wrong. Not in the slightest." The answer is 'yes'. She let him go and stood up. He watched with open eyes as she stepped up over to her door, fingered for a pair of keys, and clicked her apartment open. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Featherweight could hardly believe how far he had gotten. She could tell. With his mouth hung open like a fish, he moved up the stairs. He seemed to hover at his command with hearts bursting out of his head, reminding her of one of those Looney Tunes episodes. She glanced around at her spartan living room, with just some cheesy artwork and discount tables, lamps, plants, and such lying about.

He stepped in. He seemed so totally nervous, looking just as worried as back when they had first met. She shut the door and locked it. His eyes silently followed her movements as she walked across the room over to her refrigerator. She spotted a bottle of white wine, picked it up, and she poured two glasses. She sauntered over to the huge, fuzzy white couch, having a seat. He plopped down besides her.

"So, uh, have a sip," she said, pulling over the simple white table nearby. She put down her glass and folded her hands as she watched Featherweight down the drink. That was a lot more than a 'sip'. This guy needs to learn some kind of balance.

"D-daylight, I'm," he squeaked. He poured sweat onto the couch around him, his hooves shifting around. "I f-feel so h-happy to b-be here in y-your place." He stared down at the floor. "W-with y-you."

She leaned over, and she whispered into his right ear, "You can just go with 'Melissa' now, Featherweight." His ear perked up, and a shudder ran through him. She rubbed her hands against his shoulders, scooting herself closer. He clopped his front hooves against his bottom hooves, still looking straight down.

"S-sure." She laid down a little, moving her hands down from his shoulders onto his back. He slid over a little, looking up from the floor up to the table. He shot over, grabbed the other glass of wine, and he sucked that one down as well.

"Featherweight, may I ask you something?" She made little curls on his fur with her fingers.

"Yep." He went back to concentrating on the floor, trying to keep from breathing too fast.

"Will this be your first time?"

He closed his eyes, tearing up a little bit, and he shook his head up and down. His bottom hooves sunk down to the flat gray carpeting and scraped along it from side to side. His ears fluttered from side to side.

She smiled. She leaned over as her hands slid up to his neck and cheek, gently moving him in her direction until their faces lined up perfectly. Everything, from his blushing cheeks to his adorable freckles to his bright white toothy smile, seemed just perfect.

"I'm honored that you want me to be your first."

And she kissed him.

To Be Continued...

The Fourth Part

Featherweight let out a sudden moan as her hands rubbed down his neck. As their lips locked, his hooves pressed along her back, pushing her closer. He had never experienced anything like it. She curled her tongue around inside his mouth, both their eyes tightly closed, jolts of bliss shooting through his head. Their heads slid a little to the side, kissing passionately.

Finally, Melissa pulled back. He watched his saliva dripping down her smudged cherry lipstick on her lips as he began to pant. She looked so deeply happy as well as supremely confident. He scrunched his face and lips without even thinking, accidentally tasting her tangy lipstick. Her hands went down to his chest, fingers grooving into his fur.

"Was that your first kiss, Featherweight?" she asked in a soft, smooth whisper. She leaned down and let her long red hair slip over her eyes.

"Second," he replied. And I am hoping that that little dare with Snips in front of the colts doesn't actually count as a 'kiss'. "Nothing like that. Nothing like this." He tried to get his breathing under control.

"That's a pretty nice reaction from just a kiss," Melissa commented, smirking. "Down there." She pulled him several inches over, with his body sitting up atop her legs. She nudged her left leg upwards, stroking the area between his legs a little.

He squealed embarrassingly. She made a smug, happy nod. "So, Featherweight, I assume that you, well," she commented, "know more or less what to do. You've seen and read certain things."

She tweaked her fingers along his chest and down his belly. He shivered, feeling such amazing pleasure from just the contrast of her skin on his fur, and he bopped his head up and down. She chuckled. "I read issues of, uh," he said, blushing, "Cum Covered Cutie Marks, from the convience store. Snails sends me some Fuzz Comics, too. I, uh, hide them under my, erm, dresser." Oh, Celestia, I feel so... so... it's...

She just gazed upon him. Her fingers went up to his cheeks, touching along his splatters of freckles. I don't know, really. It's not working. It's not happening. I just feel so nervous that I can barely move. He felt her legs shifting about underneath him, her bottom hooves getting stroked. I can't blow it, not now. I have the alien seductress of my dreams right here, Shouldn't my innate animal instincts be taking over or something!

She picked up his front hooves, and she slid them over to her shoulders. He glanced along her wonderful face, moving from her delicate yet beautiful looking eyes with such a mix of gray, brown, and green along her pretty features over to her huge chest. He found his head naturally leaning down. His hooves rubbed up against the bottom of her white cotton top.

"Go right ahead," she muttered, her own breaths getting faster. Little beads of sweat popped up.

He blinked. He tried to keep himself from freezing in place, anxiousness just coursing through his insides, and he pushed his hooves up. The top curled up and off of her, with her fingers helping him along. He nudged his face even closer as his eyes swelled to the size of saucers.

"Oh, my gosh! There-- those-- these-- they are--" Featherweight sputtered. His hooves groped along the edges of her wonderful, full breasts. "So soft! So cuddly! It really is!" He squeezed them a bit from the sides, hearing her let out a nice moan. His mouth hung open. "I can't believe it."

"Go right ahead," she muttered once again, voice even lower.

Featherweight slid his head down and pressed his face onto her chest. His hooves rubbing and massaging her left breast, he littered a trail of wet, sloppy kisses against her right breast. He slurped up and down, finally pressing his mouth down and just groaning. She made a soft, low squeal, her hands going through his mane.

"Oh, Celestia!" he called out, and he licked his way over to her other breast. His hooves nudged her hard, perky nipples, and he started to nibble. Every last inch of her seemed to taste so amazing. "Your alien breasts! Your huge alien breasts with their alien curves and alien pink, puffy things on your smooth, warm, peachy-pinky alien skin! Alien things on your chest!"

Tears started to well up underneath her eyes. "Your alien-- oh, gosh," he moaned. He pushed his face down and started to suckle, his hooves rubbing up, down, side to side, and all over. "Daylight!" He cried a lot more.

She shifted a little back, leaning over, and kissing him on the forehead. Her hands dug into his mane, scratching up and down. "Let's not get too crazy too late."

"Okay," he murmured. He moved his head up, and he watched as she put her hands around his sides. She scooted herself along on the couch, positioning his body down as well. He rubbed up against her feet, feeling her toes curling up around his bottom hooves, and he took a deep breath. His eyes danced up from her smooth belly to her large breasts and back down again.

"And now," she said. She made a devious sort of smirk. "Keep going."

"Going," he repeated. He didn't want to stop staring at her delicious looking chest. She moved her hands down to her jeans shorts, sliding them over to the big golden button. He finally looked down as her fingers opened up her shorts a bit. Oh, dear sweet Celestia, she has striped pink and white panties. He felt himself trembling a little. With soft pink lace. He put a hoof over her hands. "Melissa?"

"Pull them down," she said.

She slid up her fingers, and he moved his hoof down into her open fly.

"No, no," she murmured, somehow sounding even more seductive than before, "use your teeth."

He took a gulp. He positioned himself several inches lower along the couch, sweat pouring down his cheeks, and he pushed his head forwards. He bit part of her fly and tugged down. Her shorts came right down easy, finally rubbing up against her knees.

"And my panties."

His heart rattled like a jackhammer. He closed his eyes for a while, trying to keep himself together. This is it! This is really it! He moved his face back into place, and he bit against the lace tip of her panties. He opened his eyes as he tugged down. She made some sort of happy chuckle.

She leaned her legs up and to the side, making Featherweight pop himself off of her. She kicked her shorts and panties onto the floor, and she swung herself back into position on the couch. This time, she opened her legs up, one of them poised over the back of the couch and the other rubbing up against the floor.

"A-a-a-a-alien p-p-p-pussy," Featherweight stammered, feeling drool coming down his face. He seemed to sweat more than he ever had in his entire life. His eyes feasted on the peachy-pink slit in between her legs, with just a very light layer of brown hair around the top. Dear sweet merciful Celestia, it's like she has a blasted landing stip going to her... her... She also looked pretty wet, little bits of moisture dripping down onto the couch.

"Keep going," she remarked, sliding her head from side to side. He leaned down, his face just inches from her crotch. She's nothing like any mare... like... wow. Just, wow! He nudged his hoof up against her thigh and massaged along her slit. She grunted.

He pushed a little to the right. This is her, I guess, 'womanhood'? His eyes felt like nails knocking into her skin, staring straight with every fiber of his being. He opened up her slit a little, seeing such wonderful looking pinkish folds inside. He opened up his mouth a little, sucking in a huge breath. It's now or never, face to face with an alien enchantress' "hidden treasure"-- just like Issue II, Volume V! Thank goodness she doesn't have any claws or tentacles inside there like Fuzz Comics always said.

He licked, sticking his tongue inside of her womanhood. He slurped from side to side. She made a serious of groans. He pressed his head in, and he licked straight up. He felt himself rubbing up against something small and round, sort of like a jellybean. He paused as her groans amped up even louder. He went on licking again on that same spot.

"Oh, Featherweight, you don't just stampede to the clit like that," she murmured, tapping him on the head. "That's not cool."

"The clit," he repeated, leaning his head up. He might was well have had question marks floating up atop his head, his ears flickering around.

"You don't know--" she began, but she froze mid-sentence. She made a suppressed laugh, something that felt like a stab to the heart for poor Featherweight. "Oh, virgin. Right."

"You don't want me to lick your, uh, thing, then?" he asked, slurping up and down instead and trying to avoid the beady pink glob of flesh.

"Do it. Just do it in balance."

He froze, his tongue buried in the middle of her slit. What the hay does 'balance' mean? He looked up at her with his big eyes, putting them into a 'sad puppy' sort of pose.

"Uh, little tip," she said, running her fingers through his mane. "Just do the alphabet backwards."

"What is the what backwards? How?"

She laughed, and she moved her fingers down onto his cheeks, squeezing them. "Your tongue is a pencil. Write the alphabet backwards. Like Z, Y, X, W, V, U, T-- and so on." She closed her eyes.

Before he could even think of a response, she pushed her womanhood back up in his face. He drank in her wonderful scent and taste for moment. Backwards! He stuck his tongue out and slipped it around in a zig-zag motion like a 'z'. She made a soft moan. He slurped up and down before smacking his tongue against her clit, making a loose 'z'. She moaned once again, her body shivering. Oh, gosh, I'm doing it! He kept on eating her out, taking his sweet time with letter after letter. He could sense the sheer pleasure rippling across her body.

Finally, putting the finishing touches on a 'g', he gave the top of her womanhood a big, sloppy kiss. As his tongue danced around, she made a deep scream. Her hands smacked into the back of his head, fingers scraping against his mane. He knew that she had explosions of pure joy going off along her sides. Her head rocked back and forth, mouth opening up wide. Her hair scattered all across the couch's pillow behind her.

"Oh, Featherweight," she murmured, gazing down with her beautiful face back at him. Her hands gripped his shoulders, and she shoved him forwards, his face buried on her breasts once again.

"This is what they call an 'organism', right?" Featherweight asked. He just feasted on her satisfied expression, and he made a huge smile. He felt so giddy that he shook a bit. "I did a good job, right?"

"Right," she said, scuffing his hair. She smiled, and she leaned over for another kiss. Their heads shifted from side to side, lips slurping against each other's.

Featherweight felt almost pained in between his legs. Her thighs rubbed up against his, and he shivered, intense pleasure shooting through him. She broke the kiss, and she took a little breath.

"Well, it's your turn," she said. Confidence just seemed to drip from every inch of her face.

"Turn?"

Her fingers clutched his flanks, stroking his cutie marks, and she shifted him around several inches. He looked at her face, seeming so warm and inviting. He looked at her enormous breasts, seeming so soft and tasty. He looked over at the areas in between their legs. His throbbing hard colthood lined up right atop her soaking wet womanhood.

"Melissa," he groaned, closing his eyes. "Will the-- the-- p-p-parts f-f-fit?"

"Sure as hell looks like it," she replied, squeezing his flanks.

He pictured his teenaged thing, magically changed just like the rest of him but still way more on the small side for a stallion. Still, her womanhood, a lot more snug and smaller looking compared to the marehoods that he'd spied on time after time again, appeared to be perfect for him. He couldn't really think anymore. He just felt her fingers against his fur, his mouth against her breasts, and their bodies poised in exactly the right way. He slid his lips down, and he sensed the tip of his colthood nudging up against her wet slit.

*Thrust!*

"Oh! My! Gosh!" Featherweight screamed out, grinding his hooves against her belly as his face bounced upon her breasts. He slid himself as far in as he could go in just a matter of seconds. The feelings didn't hit him at first. But when they did, the solid blast of total, pure pleasure seemed to simply melt his brains. "It feels so good! So perfect! For you! You! Youuuuu!"

He heard her making a torrent of whine-like noises, and her hands gripped his back. He could barely keep himself together. He softly slid backwards, inch by inch, and every last tiny move swelled up sheer bliss through his insides. He moved his mouth over and suckled her breast. He pumped back inside.

Again, he felt such powerful pleasures running through both their bodies. He kept on pumping, immediately starting to turn into something quick and mechanic. He nibbled a bit, feeling her groan. He finally threw his head up, his flanks thrusting fast and faster.

"I can't! I can't last! I can't take it! It's too much!" Featherweight yelled. Tears flowed like waterfalls from his face. "I'm not going to last!"

She didn't say anything back. She merely curled her legs up along his backside a little and pushed his flanks forwards. Her breasts went against his face once again, and he decorated them with messy slurp after messy slurp. He couldn't believe it. She finally clenched herself, his colthood shoved in as far as he could manage, and he felt himself crossing some sort of line.

He screamed again and again. He poured himself into her, feeling himself pulsing inside of her snug, wet womanhood. She held him close, almost cooing. Nothing in his entire life had ever felt so good, and he seemed totally convinced that nothing could ever again. The pleasure rocketed through every last inch of his body.

He slumped over, falling off of the couch and landing atop the floor. He tried to stand up, feeling very woozy and hardly being able to see straight. He blinked, and he held a hoof up against the bed. He looked out, and he watched as thick cream flowed out from between Melissa's legs. He smiled as he panted.

"Holy... oh..." she moaned, sitting up on the couch with her hands rubbing all over her sides. "Oh, God, you stallions sure do cum a lot..." She cupped her right hand over her womanhood. "It's like hentai, only real."

He couldn't think of a response at all. He just threw up his hooves and made a pointless wave. She smiled from cheek to cheek.

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Featherweight wiggled to the right, hearing a faint squawk. He rubbed his eyes. He felt warm sheets all over him. The sun poked around through the room, but it all seemed totally faint and still pretty dark. Oh, my goodness. He blinked. Was that all just a dream?

He shifted to the right, and his hooves rubbed up against smooth skin. He turned his head around, and he saw Melissa, looking like some kind of divine spirit of beauty with her legs curling up and down over a pillow. It wasn't a dream! I did it! I really did it!

He leaped out of the bed. He stood right besides the massive window, seeing part of his relfection in the glass, and he pumped a hoof into the air. "Yeah!" Featherweight called out. "Virginity status-- defeated!"

He heard Melissa stirring from her bed behind him, but she just slid a few inches over while making a light moan. She seemed to want to grab as much sleep as possible. He put a hoof against the window. I have to be the luckiest guy in Equestria. Not even Shining Armor can top this.

He suddenly noticed something wrong about his hoof. Oh, no! It's so small! It's so frail! He leaned in close to the glass and glared at his reflection. His eyes hopped from his splatters of acne along his filmy, sickly looking cheeks over along his skinny, wiry body down to the floor. He knew that he had to stand several inches shorter.

"My voice is," he said, and he put a hoof to his throat. "I'm back." He stomped on the floor in anger. "Blast it! I'm just another stupid tween colt again!" He saw Melissa moving up, popping the pillow out of her legs. He froze, feeling his heart sinking. However, her eyes remained as closed as ever. She sighed, and she pressed her head down, still sleeping.

Oh, Featherweight, you idiot! You knew that this was going to happen! Either you magically advanced your age for good, getting in huge trouble with your parents, with Twilight, and everypony else... or, you just used a temporary spell and then got into a sticky situation where you'd have to explain it all to Melissa! There was no easy way out! He felt his lips trembling, and he tried not to cry.

"I can't stay here," he whispered. He glanced around at the plain bedroom, trying to find something to help him. He spotted some simple looking ferns, some tables, a dresser, stacks of boxes, and various other assorted items. Blast it! He felt about to dash downstairs, but then he locked onto something from the corner of his eyes. Yes!

He sped over and picked up the small black typing machine, a tray of paper set below with an arrangement of grayish-black arms, gears, and levers. The haphazardly looking and probably self-constructed machine didn't seem as pretty as what they would have used in a newspaper office, but it seemed alright enough for Featherweight. He sat down, trying to turn the surge of raw emotion into something concrete, and he stuck out his hooves.

Dear Melissa,

I have to confess two important things. Before I do, please let me apologize for leaving you this morning. I just couldn't stay for a whole lot of reasons. I hope you'll understand when you finish reading this message.

He took a deep breath, tears bubbling up beneath his eyes despite how much he tried to fight it.

First of all, I'm not who you think I am. My name is Featherweight, yes. My parents met just like I said. I have the same background and the same dreams that I told you yesterday.

But I'm not who I made myself to be. I'm not a teenaged stallion, and I don't really look like the way that I looked yesterday. That was the result of a magical transformation spell. I'm actually just a colt, barely at the age where I'm coming out of school. I felt ashamed of my normal, tween-aged self. And there's more than that.

I don't know what the legal rules are for humans, and maybe nothing applies. But I have to be honest. I'm just right up against the line, not old enough to give consent in Equestria until next year. If you were a mare and if I had just been myself, then what we did yesterday would have made you a criminal, arrested and profiled for your entire life. I turned myself into a temporary adult so that I could have you. Since you really thought that I was an adult, I think you should be okay.

The second thing is that I lied when I said that I'd never met you before. I've seen you time and time again around Ponyville. And I never had the courage to even be noticed by someone that beautiful. I could hardly bear to be around you. I know it doesn't make sense, but I now know why.

I love you.

I've loved you from the moment I first saw you.

I should have done the responsible thing. But I felt like I had to change myself. It's not just that I couldn't wait to have you. It's not just that I hated how my tween self looked from the acne to the greasy hair and everything else. No, what made the difference was that I had to have you until you left Equestria forever, since humans can only stay here for a matter of months.

I'm sorry. I can't tell you how badly I feel.

= Featherweight

Well, I'm sure that I'll see a lot of things I'd want to write in there differently when I look back. He picked up the message and put it down on his place in the bed. He wiped off his tears. He then hunted around for his saddlebag, getting ready to head back home.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Featherweight took his sweet time. He stopped for a nice breakfast at Lulu's place, chatted with Roseluck about her new flowers, bought a newspaper, and otherwise enjoyed himself before knocking on his front door. His father, thank goodness, had to spend most of that whole week out of down. His mother bought his story of staying over at Snails' place.

He prepared to go through some homework, picking up his backpack. His mother said that a scroll had arrived for him. He trotted over, seeing her head out the door to some kind of errand or another. He waved a hoof dismissively. A message? He felt his heart quickening.

Featherweight!

->I hope you don't mind that I'm skipping the 'Dear Blah' part, since writing that just makes me feel like I was naughty at school and I'm writing in supplication to my parents with the principal watching or something.

Anyways...

Oh, sweetie, you're so overly dramatic! Seriously!

I guess... if you're worried about being a little under the line, then I can assure you that I don't give a rat's ass. Not too familar with the rules here, but if you're like 16 when the limit is 17... really? So what?

I doubt anyone would really make a stink about this. But, hey, if you want to keep things just between us, I'm totally cool with that.

Uh... yeah. So you exaggerated a little. No need to get so dramatic over it, sweetie! Gosh, you should see what they do on my planet! You didn't shove a sock in your pants, at least. Or go all blah-blah-blah about how you have a degree when you don't, driving a Toyota Tercel when you say that you own a Lexus, etc.

I'm a little pissed that you hi-tailed it out of there so early in the morning, though! Seriously, who the hell wakes up that early? Are you part owl back in your family tree or something!

Love at first sight is so cliche, sweetheart! But coming from you, I guess it's 100% true. And I am really touched. No foolin'.

Okay, tl-dr=

I'll see you again tonight.

P.S. Hope it's not creepy to message your house when you didn't tell me your address. My bestest pal Spike recognized your name and everything immediately.

"Mom!" Featherweight yelled, sticking a head out of the door.

"What!" She yelled back.

"What's a--" He grabbed the message and held it up right under his eyes. "A tl-dr?"

The End