Ten minutes later you're lying in the grass, starting to get itchy, because you're allergic to grass. Should have thought this one through. Oh well, guess you'll have to take a hot bath with the spa twins a few chapters from now or something.

Anyway, after than exciting escapade, you're ready to go at it again. Who should you bang next? "OO OO OO DO ME DO ME DO ME!" Pinkie Pie screams. "I WANNA HAVE SEX WITH A HUMAN!" She's so obliviously loud and bombastic, it's almost like she's a poor parody of herself trapped in sloppily written clopfic. But hey, you're not going turn down sex with Pinkie Pie, are you? You'd have to be oatmeal, I mean crazy, to do that! "Well, Pinkie Pie," you respond coyly, "it just so happens that I want to have sex with you."

"OKIE DOKIE LOKIE WELL GET ON MY BACK AND AWAY WE'LL RIDE TO THE MAGICAL HUMPING LAND OF THE LOFT ABOVE SUGAR CUBE CORNER AND WE CAN BE AS LOUD AS WE WANT BECAUSE I BOUGHT THE CAKES EARPLUGS AFTER THEY COMPLAINED LAST TIME!"

You're about to mount her in the only non-sexual way in this entire story, but rather to actually ride her like a horse to her house, when Twilight trots over and whispers in your ear "You're a very brave man, dude. You have my admiration, respect, sympathy, and greatest condolences." Whatever that ominous phrase means. Then you mount Pinkie Pie and she gallops off to the bakery at a breakneck pace, you holding onto her poofy hair for your dear life.

You walk in with her beside you somehow not out of breath, and see lines of white powder on the counter. "OH HEY, THE CAKES LEFT ME SOME EXTRA BAKING POWDER!" She dashes over and starts snorting the lines up her nostril, not even bothering to use a straw, just mashing her muzzle into the wood. She looks up with a bloody nose, grinning. "YOU WANT TO TRY SOME?!"

"Uh, Pinkie," you start nervously, "I don't think that's baking powder. I'm pretty sure that's cocaine powder."

"OH, WELL, DUH! I SUBSTITUTE IT OUT IN ALL MY RECIPES!" Huh. That explains a frighting amount about Pinkie Pie. And Ponyville in general. "Yeah, I think I'll pass on your offer. But thank you." You silently pray the CMC never try to get drug manufacturing or distributing or selling or consuming or pretty much anything cutie marks.

"YOUR LOSS, SILLY FILLY; MORE FOR ME!" And she just starts licking the rest of the coke lines up. Fuck the mare's intense.

"Alright buddy, last one on my bed with no clothes on is a rotten catapillar!" And she's off up the stairs in a flash. You take a moment to use the restroom and hydrate before you follow her. This could be a looooooong afternoon.

When you reach the bedroom she tackles you onto the bed with a manic grin. "OKAY LET'S HAVE SEX!!! I CALL TOPSIES!" she shouts and she throws you down onto your back, jumps into the air, and lands right on your dick, her pussy slamming over it. Thank goodness she had good aim with her genital dive bomb. Penis fractures are bad news beavers. And then she starts bouncing up and down on it. Rapidly. Very rapidly.

Oh god it's like someone took one of those Bad Dragon pony pussy fleshlights, attacted it to the end of a jigsaw like they do with dildos in those weird Japanese BDSM videos, and started hammering away at your dick. Not that your complaining. Your dick loves it. The rest of your pelvis though? It's growning sore and tingly and numb all at the same time. And she just keeps going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and goingand going and going and going and goingand going and going and going and going fuck you've cummed like 5 times and she's still going strong. Did she slip viagra in your coffee this morning or something? and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going and going... (you should zoom in.)
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You wake up in a hospital a week later, unsure why you can't feel your legs or why there's a catheter snaking out of your dick. Surrounding you are flowers and get well cards, and there's a "Sorry I Fractured Your Pelvis" cake on the nightstand. Well fuck, You're paralyzed from the waist down. Paralysis by snu snu. Oh well, still worth it.

Author's Note

Pinkie stiring up a cloud of "baking powder". DOES THIS LOOK LIKE THE FACE OF MERCY?!?