Please

“Please?”

“No.”

Twilight pouted. It was that adorable little filly pout, too, the one where she curled up her lower lip and let her muzzle wobble for maximum effect. “But why?”

“Because,” Shining said, “I am definitely not the right pony to be telling you about that.” He unlatched his schoolbag. A few textbooks and notebooks floated up into the air. Meanwhile, his cheeks were a bright, flushed red, and his muzzle was twitching uncomfortably.

“But that’s what everypony else said!” Twilight said. She flopped onto Shining’s bed and groaned. Her stubby filly legs stuck out behind her and waggled cutely. “I asked my teacher, and she wouldn’t tell me. I even asked Moondancer! She didn’t know! She said she’d never heard of ‘the Talk’!”

“Go ask Mom and Dad,” Shining said. His biology textbook hit his desktop with a clunk and he winced. “They’re the ones who’re supposed to tell you, anyway.”

“I tried! They won’t!” Twilight’s legs flexed out around her. “Mom said she’d tell me when I’m older, and Daddy just mumbled something and walked away.”

“Then there y’go,” Shining said. He floated his pencil case out of his satchel and retrieved his quill and inkbottle. “You just have to be patient, Twily.”

“But I don’t wanna be patient.” Twilight’s head hit Shining’s lumpy pillow with a thump. When she spoke again, her voice came out all muffled. “Somepony’s gotta tell me!”

“Look,” Shining said. “Sometimes you want something, and you just have to wait for it, okay?” C’mon, Shining, he told himself. Here’s a Big Brother Moment. Gotta share some of that trademarked older sibling wisdom. “And I know how you feel. But you’ve got to be patient and let Mom and Dad tell you when they’re ready.”

Twilight jerked her head out of his pillow and glared at him. “Says you,” she said sullenly. “I bet Mom and Daddy do whatever you want.”

“That is...not true. At all.” Shining levitated his assignment book from his bag and groaned inwardly. It was going to be a long night, and his biology exam on Monday… Well. He didn’t really want to think about that. “Look, Twily. I’ve got a lot of homework. Would you mind leaving me alone to do it?”

Twilight’s glare only got sulkier. “I bet you could tell me,” she said.

“Maybe I could,” Shining said, “but I won’t. Sorry. Not my job.” He shook his head. “And I’ve got a whole suite of math problems to work through. So if you wouldn’t mind…?”

Twilight brightened immediately. “Ooh!” she said. “Maybe I could help you with those! And then—”

“No, Twilight,” Shining said. He didn’t want to let her go any further. Instantly, Twilight’s ears went back. “It’s my homework, and I’m going to get it done properly. And like I said, I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” Twilight muttered.

Shining sighed. “C’mon, Twilight. This is getting a little bit silly now.”

“You’re silly!” Twilight threw up her hooves. “Mom and Daddy are silly. Moondancer is silly. Everypony is silly because they won’t tell me what I want to know! I can’t even find any books about this!”

“Twilight—”

She hopped off of his bed and landed a bit unsteadily on her hooves. Shooting a glare over her shoulder, she said, “I’ll find out. Somehow,” and walked out.

The door slammed shut behind her.

Shining sighed. Somehow, he had a feeling that that could have gone better. And that look in Twilight’s eyes—he knew that filly. Her curiosity wouldn’t be abated. If anything, his refusal to help her would only drive her even further up the wall.

For a moment, he wondered if this might be a problem. Once Twilight had her hooves on a question, she’d never rest until she’d solved it. She was going to sink her teeth into this one, too, one way or another.

Turning back to his textbooks, Shining let his shoulders relax. Hopefully, he thought wryly, Mom or Dad would take care of this. As much as he liked being Twilight’s B.B.B.F.F., this was one topic that he definitely didn’t want to share with her. A few splotches of red still dotting his cheeks, he shook his head, brushed his mane out of his eyes, and got to work.

Shining Armor was a stereotypical adolescent in many ways. While he worked a bit harder at his schoolwork, preferred classical rock to modern music, and liked Ogres and Oubliettes more than anypony else in his gym class, he was mostly a regular colt. He liked to procrastinate, enjoyed looking at pretty mares, and woke up late on Saturday mornings.

He groaned softly, nuzzling closer against his pillow as rays of sunlight brushed against his eyelids. He felt warm, comfortable, wrapped in a cocoon of tight blankets and sheets. There was an almost pleasant weight on his chest. For a moment, the image of Cadance, her hoof curled around him, flickered back into his dreams. His muzzle curled into a smile.

Then, the bubble of sleep popped around him. His eyes cracked open. Shining squinted as his mind slowly worked back toward lucidity. There was a figure above him—somepony standing on his chest. Cadance? his hopeful, dreaming mind offered. But Cadance wasn’t that purple. And Cadance wasn’t that small, either...

“Bwuh—Twilight?” Shining blinked blearily. He yawned. “G’morning, Twily.”

There was a comfortable tightness around his crotch, he realized. As though something—or somepony—was rubbing again. Shining blinked a few more times, his sluggish thoughts starting to move back into a waking state. His vision resolved fully. Twilight was straddling his crotch, leaning over him with her horn pointed directly at his chest. Something thick, heavy, and very hot was rubbing against her underbelly through the sheets.

“Guh!” Shining quickly pushed her back. Twilight let out an “eep!” of surprise as he shoved her off of his morning wood. Blushing furiously, Shining hoped she hadn’t noticed anything. Then, his mind sharpening, he realized that her horn had been sparking.

“Hey!” Shining asked. He picked her up with his magic and levitated her over the bed. A second thread of magic branched off from the first, quietly rumpling up the sheets so that the bulge at his crotch wouldn’t be quite as noticeable. “What’re you doing in my room so early?”

“Early?” Twilight raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s eleven in the morning.”

“Before noon. Early.” Shining yawned again—but then remembered what Twilight’s horn had been doing and stopped himself. “And what were you even doing?”

“I was using a spell,” Twilight said. Shining floated her back down to his bed, far away from his groin.

“A spell,” he said.

“A spell!” Twilight smiled down at him. In that instant, she may as well have been the most innocent, purest creature in all of Equestria. The spell quickly broke, though, when she added, “To get you to tell me what ‘the Talk’ is.”

“Very funny, Twilight.” Shining levitated her down to the carpet. He frowned down at her. “Try again.”

“No, really!” Twilight was beaming. “It was a spell I found to make a stallion do anything you ask him to!”

A shiver went down Shining’s spine. “Twilight…” he began. “Where did you find a spell like that?”

“In my teacher’s special book,” she said. “She left it on her desk in class yesterday, so I took it home with me. It had lots of weird pictures, but also this spell! I thought it might come in handy to get you to tell me.”

“Twilight,” Shining said. No “Twily” right now. “That is not the kind of spell you should be casting on other ponies.”

For a moment, that mischievous glint, that insatiable curiosity twinkled in Twilight’s eyes. “And why not?” she asked. “If ponies won’t tell me something…”

“Okay, first off, that is really poor ethics.” Shining paused and prodded at his muzzle. “And secondly...I don’t think that spell did what you think it did.”

“Uh-huh?” Twilight said. The glint of victory was in her eyes. “Well, then. Shining Armor! I order you to tell me what ‘The Talk’ is!”

A shiver went down Shining’s spine. She sounded so self-assured, so confident. But then again...this was Twilight. She—thought she’d—done her research. Of course she was sure of herself. And yet…

Shining raised an eyebrow. “Nope.”

“But—”

“I don’t think your little spell is going to work, Twily,” Shining said. “I sure don’t feel any different.”

Twilight’s face reddened. “Tell me!” she squeaked. Her little cheeks puffed out adorably. “Jump up and down! Go run down the stairs! Go—nggh—do your homework!”

“Mm,” Shining looked down at her with a faint amusement. “Nope.”

“Agh!” Twilight turned and ran out of the room.

“Hey!” he called after her. “You should really—” His voice trailed off halfway. “Give...back...that book.” He sighed.

There probably wasn’t a book, in all likelihood. Twilight might have dreamed about it. Her spell hadn’t worked, after all. There probably wasn’t even a spell. Shining, at least, was fairly familiar already with dreams giving a pony just what they wanted.

Blushing slightly, he moved to lift the covers off of his body—and then remembered his “friend” still waiting under the covers.

Unconsciously, Shining’s crotch flexed. A throb went through his member, and Shining shuddered pleasurably. There was already a small damp spot growing against the place where his morning wood had been rubbing against the underside of his sheet.

Twilight might have woken him up early, he decided, but as long as he was primed and ready… Shining bit his lip and glanced toward his door. The hallway was clear. He telekinetically swung his door shut then turned back to his blankets.

If there was one thing that every teenage colt learned, it was that it was a terrible thing to let a boner go to waste. Shining couldn’t help the small, silly grin on his face as he lifted up the sheets to see his healthily throbbing erection waiting for him. It was draped against his left thigh, a small drop of precum beaded at the tip.

He reached down to touch it and shuddered again. It was at that perfect point between softness and hardness, where every touch was an invitation for more, and even the slightest tease could feel like heaven. Shining licked his lips, then gently pushed his member up over his stomach.

It slid across his stomach easily, the shaft slick with the pleasures of last night’s more exotic dreams. Shining wasn’t quite a full-grown stallion yet, but he knew that he was a bit bigger downstairs than most of his classmates. Most of the time, their equipment was tucked away into their sheaths, but more than one growing stallion had gotten unintentionally hard in the middle of a post-gym shower. Random boners were just a fact of life. Another fact of life, Shining had learned from a few stolen glances, was that even his next-”largest” classmate’s shaft only came up to the bottom of the flare on his own.

An average stallion’s length was eleven inches long. Shining’s was fourteen, and still growing. Idly, he wondered how big Dad was—and quickly shut off that line of thought. Every colt remembered how “big” their fathers were, from half-caught memories of childhood shower help. But Shining knew enough to know that a tiny colt's perspective differed quite a bit from reality. Somehow, the thought that he might be bigger than his father down there sent a spark of excitement up Shining’s spine—and it was exactly that kind of excitement that he suddenly felt he should not be trying to think about.

He turned back to his needy erection instead, and pushed thoughts of comparison aside. At the very least, there was no disputing the fact that he was pent up from a night of longing dreams. His balls were nice and plump, and he found himself longing for the sweetness of release. Blushing again, Shining touched the middle of his shaft and summoned up a few memories of Cadance. It didn’t matter from where: in the hallways, in class, in gym, with a few beads of sweat dripping down her prime, firm flank—

Unbidden, another image came to Shining’s mind: Twilight, her little filly’s legs straddling his crotch, her soft little fillyhood rubbing against his member through the sheets. Shining violently tried to shove that image away—but a generous splatter of precum against his belly hinted that he may have liked it more than he’d thought. More than a little bit disturbed—she was his sister; what kind of twisted colt even thought about that?—he turned back to thoughts of Cadance.

That flank filled his mind’s eye. Shining smiled goofily as images of her bouncing cheeks bounced up and down in his thoughts. His hoof gripped tightly around his length, making its way up and down in long, steady strokes. Shining squished his shoulders against his headboard, letting his body sink a little bit deeper into the bed as he lost himself to the rhythm.

Stroke, schlick, stroke. Pump, squeeze, splurt. Shining’s nuts felt particularly heavy that morning. As his right hoof worked his hardening shaft, his left hoof went down to his ballsack. On a whim, Shining grabbed one of his balls and gave it a squeeze. Instantly, his whole body went tense. A soft moan slipped out from his muzzle.

He quickly shut himself up. For a moment, he sat paralyzed, wondering if anypony had heard. Silently, he sat with his ears perked, listening for that telltale creak of the stairs outside his door. After a moment, all he heard was the clink of faraway breakfast silverware, and relaxed.

Still… That had felt good. Rubbing his shaft, Shining stifled a soft sigh. His cock throbbed eagerly for more. Tenderly, he reached back down and grabbed a hold of his nut again. It felt odd in his hoof: warm, heavy, plump.

He gripped his weighty nut and, unsure of what exactly he was going to do, began to knead it. His cock kept rising upward, pushing against his chest and matting his fur with precum. His arousal was reaching a peak. Shining gave his ball another squeeze. Once again, he was powerless to stop the groan that escaped through his muzzle, or the wet drippings that streamed down his shaft. His crotch tensed and his cock lurched. His stallionhood slapped wetly against his belly and a hefty glob of salty precum splattered the bottom of his chin.

He was getting closer—he could tell. The sense of pleasure was absolute: a warm, buzzing feeling that was streaming through his veins, every stroke of his hoof down his shaft sending another wave of endorphins shooting through his brain.

Shining began to pant. He was powerless to keep his hoof off of his nutsack. In fact, he was kneading both of them now, massaging his testes’ smooth, rounded surface with a hoof slick with precum. He squeezed his shaft harder and stifled a moan. His hips began to jerk forward, too, his body thumping on the mattress as he drew closer and closer to his climax.

His member slapped wetly against his belly, more and more precum matting his white fur together. Shining began to whimper softly. He felt himself approaching the edge, that familiar warmth and pressure building at his crotch. He felt his penile muscles tense, flexing and relaxing repeatedly as he drove himself toward that peak. His eyes squeezing shut, he gave his hefty nutsack a squeeze and loudly moaned when he felt the cum sloshing inside.

With a grunt harsh enough to resemble coughing, Shining let himself go over. His hips jerked wildly, his shaft went fully erect, and his balls retracted up toward his stomach. He prepared himself for his oncoming release.

It never came. In the blink of an eye, every bit of that pressure vanished. The heat, the power, the feeling of falling off the edge of a precipice—it was all gone. For a moment, Shining didn’t know what had happened. Somewhere in his imagination, he saw his hips bucking, ropes of cum splattering against his chest as he met his morning release.

But it didn’t happen. Instead, Shining was left wide-eyed, breathing heavily as he stared down at his erection. It was softening slowly, returning to flaccidity as though he’d just orgasmed. And yet he knew he hadn’t. He was dry, he was clean, and even above that, he still needed it. Shining quickly drew back his hoof from his balls; the weight had somehow stopped feeling strictly pleasurable. Instead, he felt almost...tight. Unfulfilled.

There came a knock on the door. If Shining had been a pegasus, he might have flown straight up and smashed his head on the ceiling. As it was, by pure reflex his horn lit up brighter than a Hearth’s Warming firework. The covers whipped over his crotch to conceal it from view. Forcing an uncomfortable smile onto his face, Shining put on his best imitation of a cheery morning voice and said, “Yeah?”

“Shiny? You up in there?” It was Mom.

“Uh, yeah!” he called back. “What's up?”

“Well, Twilight told me that you’d gotten up. I just wanted to let you know that your Dad made quiche this morning, and there’s a little bit left if you want it. Don’t let it get cold!”

“I won’t!” he called back. He jumped out of bed, and then winced when his still-full balls smacked against the insides of his legs. It was okay, he told himself. Everypony shot a blank sometimes. He’d just try again later. “Just, uh, let me shower first. Okay?”

“Okay, sweetie! See you downstairs!”

Shining let the clip-clop of his mom’s hooves on the stairs fade before relaxing again. Sighing, he turned to his bathroom door and levitated a towel from the dresser.

It was okay not to reach orgasm. He’d read that in a “healthy sex” column in one of the magazines that Dad sometimes hid in the coat closet. It was okay not to cum. So long as you’d enjoyed yourself beforehand. Not everypony reached orgasm all the time.

Shining pushed the shower curtain aside and levitated over his soap and shampoo. As he set the water running, his frown deepened. But he had reached it—he’d been just on the edge. He’d been there. He should’ve cum. And having not...it was one of the strangest feelings he’d ever felt since he’d known that the thing between his legs was called more than just a “pee-pee.” He felt frustrated. Unfulfilled. And confused.

Still, he thought, stepping into the shower. He eyed the bottle of mane conditioner thoughtfully. There wasn’t any reason he couldn’t try again. Once had to be a freak accident. If he got another erection—and what colt didn’t?—he could take care of it. He had to take care of it.

He hoped.