Jason rested his arm on the back landing’s railing, and looked out across the dark blue Ahaso Bay. It was a pretty good job, when you thought about it. No boss looking over his shoulder, no deadline, no sales quota. It really came down to just ‘Live Here.’ If you were a suitably neat person, which Jason was by nature, the job practically did itself. Do some dusting in the ones you don’t live in, pick up after yourself in the one you do. Jason wasn’t a guy to leave it to what was easy, but still, it was a good time, and even his perfectionist approach left plenty of time for the simple things, like swimming, music, or reading. The things that made the difference between loneliness, and being alone.

The cottage was one of a group that had used to belong to an acting troupe, which the Wonderbolts had bought as a group vacation home. Each house had room for a couple of ponies, two or three, and the wonderbolts numbered somewhere between 5 and 8. It was an elite group, and thus, a small one. As a result, their vacation place was a nice complex that gave enough community, by giving each of the ponies a couple to a house, and yet also a little privacy if they wanted to be alone and away from the others. Something that, despite the small confines, was surprisingly easy to do.

Jason had chose the red one, the first of the three, to use for himself, but he took pride in maintaining all of them exactly as they’d been left. Sure, he washed some dishes and picked up things left on the floor (You’d think their military precision would have made them better at cleaning up) and an in-progress videogame had been saved rather than left for months on a pause screen, but in all other ways, when the Wonderbolts came back, they would come back to the cottage they had left. A book left on a bed was still on the bed, a stuffed Ursa Major that Soarin’ had won at a summer fair sat at the head of the table. There was even an in-progress Poker game. The cards were face down, but he’d had to occasionally pick them up when he was dusting. He’d made notes of the hands. Soarin’ would get a flush, if another diamond showed, and Flitter would if there were two hearts. If nothing good came up, though, Cloudchaser would win with a pair of tens.

Night Glider should just fold.

The sun was slowly disappearing behind the mountains to the west, making them glow with orange light. Some evenings, you’d swear they were on fire, the way the reflected glare from the white rocks shone on the buildings. He looked down at the receding shoreline, powered in this world, like all natural processes, by the hard work of pegasi, unicorns, and earth ponies. In this case, a series of treadmills operated by Earth Ponies cranked the water back, and then, after a while, cranked it back forward. Equestria was like that. Weird, but charming, in its own way, like a world designed by a small child. He could just imagine a kid explaining it.

“And then, when they need water, all the flying horsies get together and spin around real fast, and then the water turns into a tornado and they carry it up! And one of them makes the sun go up, and the other one makes the moon go up, and then when it’s fall, all of them run really fast and the leaves fall down!” It was the sort of logic that made sense only in bizarre imaginings.

In part, that was why he liked it. It was a dreamworld. And the going around naked didn’t hurt the appeal of it. The ponies were sexy. Most of them walked around completely naked, or close to it. He followed suit, both because of the enjoyment of being naked, and because of the heat. It was rather nice, too, that for the most parts, the mares didn’t remind his... Genetic reaction to the view.

It might have just been his upbringing, but he just liked the view. Those nice round asses over long, strong legs. He had never been interested in vaginal sex, but he always liked a good looking ass. He figured the way they walked, they had to be really grinding together the muscles, which made them good and strong. Good and strong, meant good and tight, a good and hot place to slide in and really slam. There were scent glands were up there, too, left over from a time when pheromones were a better way to attract attention than a seductive look and a flower arrangement. It lent them a sweet smell that made him just want to pounce them and lick them all night.

Especially the pegasi. Their wings, beating against the air, a perfect paradox. Fragile, yet strong. Slight, yet empowering. They made the pegasi look like equine angels, and yet at the same time, seemed like they should be blown away by light gusts. The mix of power and tenderness was so beautiful. He wanted to run his fingers through their feathers, hold them, and be held by them. Each beat of the wings made him want to grab them and fly away. Or use them as handholds to fuck their owners rapidly.

He was getting lost in thought. He may have wanted to fantasize about pegasi all day and night, really, but he did have to do things. In this case, eat. He tried to minimize the mess from cooking, so he’d make all his food for the day in the morning, put it in the refrigerator, and take his meals out of there. It wasn’t the most exciting cuisine, certainly, but he wasn’t a fan of fine dining. It was enough to keep him fed and that was that. There was nothing else to it, and nothing more he needed. He wouldn’t have minded a few friends, of course, it did get lonely.

He pulled a plate out of the refrigerator. A salad sandwich. He was sure they wouldn’t mind if he had something other than vegetarian, but he didn’t want to disturb them when they came, if there was something that he missed. Ponies were vegetarian, and so, while he was in their house, so was he. If he wanted meat, he’d eat out. He did do that, sometimes. The Wonderbolts paid him well to keep things in order. That was why he put so much effort into making sure they were as ordered as could be, he prided himself on being worth the money he was paid by Equestria’s top flight team to keep things in order.

He sat down at the table, looking across it at Soarin’s bear. Ivan was his primary companion, these days. It was lonely, but it wasn’t too bad.

“So, Ivan. How was your day?” He asked. The bear gave no answer.

He sighed, “Yeah, same for me. SSDD, eh?”

Ivan agreed silently.

“Yeah... Hey, you cut the firewood like I asked?”

Ivan looked down nervously, and he took another bite of his sandwich.

“You know, Ivan, you really gotta start pulling your weight around here. This isn’t a one-person operation, you know.”

Ivan had been told too many times to want to answer.

“Look, Ivan, I know you’re just a stuffed bear, but that’s no excuse for not being helpful. Look at Ted. He does stuff all the time. I know. I saw it in a movie.”

Ivan’s look silently questioned him on whether Seth MacFarlane films should be used as evidence in this discussion, a point he conceded.

“Oh, fine, Ivan. I’m sorry. I just get frustrated.” He finished his sandwich, and stood up, patting the stuffed bear on the head. Poor conversationalist, that one, but a great listener. He brushed the crumbs into the trash, and washed the plate, before going back out onto the large front deck to enjoy the evening. The deck looked out up a long pathway, to where the pegasi landed or carriages stopped. The entrance to this little complex. The cool evening air washed over him. This wasn’t a bad place to be, or a bad time to be here. Sure, he was alone, but there was so much to enjoy here. The sound of the ocean lapping at the shores. The cries of birds in the trees. The wind rustling through their leaves. The three wonderbolts landing at the entrance and coming up the path.

Wait, what?

He looked again, as if perhaps a second check might correct the oversight. But there was no denying it. A trio of mares had landed and were walking up the path, Flitter, Night Glider, and Cloudchaser. He recognized them from the posed calendar he’d put on the wall. May, June, and July. While obviously he knew he had every right to be there, this was a first. He’d always been paid to do it while no-one was around, and then left before they got there. He’d only ever met Spitfire, once, and then only for a brief interview and to get the keys.

The three mares were chatting idly, but then one of them noticed him, and gestured with her wing. He was a deer in the headlights as they stared at each-other. He didn’t have anywhere else to go, and while he had every right to be there, he knew one thing was for sure. Things were about to change for him.

Author's Note

This is an interesting one for me, because it's nothing like what I usually write. It's really exciting to go outside what's expected of me like this.

There's no sex in this chapter, but trust me. Give it some time.