Am I Confused?

Chapters

Chapter 1: This F*cking Day
Chapter 2: Voyeur And Bad Coffee
Chapter 3: Cucumber And Rose
Chapter 4: Lists, Depression, And Parties
Chapter 5: Stank
Epilogue: Breakfast

Chapter 1: This F*cking Day

Author's Note

Chapter 1: Solo stallion masturbation
Whilst the clop in this chapter is not substantial, I hope you enjoy the story and premise enough to continue reading. I wish also to thank you for choosing to look at my fic, and I will wish you a second thank you for if you read on ahead. :twilightsmile: Have fun.
And if you leave a dislike, please leave a comment explaining why so I do not repeat the same mistakes. Thank you.
Chapter 2: Voyeur And Bad Coffee Coming soon

Chapter 1: This F*cking Day

I looked over the contents of the magazine with a morbid fascination. I flicked from page to page like a guitar string, each page drawing out an ‘ooh’ or an ‘ah’ from my mouth at each turn, essentially turning me into a jukebox, and every track was simply titled ‘curiosity’, with the occasional slipped in disc of ‘eagerness’. Each time my eyes scanned the page I flipped to the next, which somehow was better than the last. After a while I found myself biting my bottom lip, my cheeks ablaze in what felt like a blush. I only wish I was born a unicorn, so that I could fulfil the urge of my body to send my hooves lower down to treat my hardening cock, but then I wouldn’t be able to soak in the images of the book. I could only imagine seeing the ponies in images before me… their long cocks in my hooves, or my mouth or… my flank. The idea made me smile nervously, such a lewd thought I had never considered or even practiced before in my life. I had an affinity for the more feminine ones, the dichotomy of seeing a dick so large on a stallion who looked so pretty created a weird, but oddly more alluring image. I wondered what another stallion would think of me if they saw me in these pages, revelling in the idea of another coming to orgasm because of me, pumping their thick cock and milking out seed at only the sight of my hard dick or firm flanks. Of course I was only mimicking the words of the magazine, half of the stallions had a blurb beside their picture, expressing delight at the idea. I could only wonder what if…

Too interested in the book was I that I could barely cover myself in time when my door was bucked open, my very angry sibling in the doorway. At first she held a face of fury, but it dissipated into confusion, and then disgust. The light traced around her silhouette, making her carmine eyes stand out amongst her own shadow, and I could only express my shame and humiliation in the form of the form of an ajar mouth, words lost in my throat, my entire body shaking with fear.

“Mom, mom!” She called, running from the doorway. I pursued, my obscene erection swinging beneath me, smacking against my stomach. I dropped the magazine behind me as I chased, although upon leaving my room she was already halfway down the stairs, and I gave up. I sat broken on my flank, hoof on head, rubbing my skull as I let out a frustrated sigh.

When I raised my head I was before my parents, the magazine in question in the centre of the table. Mother looked furious, her jaw clenched. Father looked disinterested. Mother, her coat a plush lavender, had her hoof pressed into the cover. ‘Playmare: fall edition.’ Stolen from my sister’s room, but I wasn’t here before them for theft. I was here for what my sister called, ‘being a colossal faggot’, and although she was reprimanded for such language, I was still sitting here for being just that.

“What do you have to say for yourself young stallion?” Mother scolded me, brows furrowed in a stern expression.

“S-Sorry?” I offered meekly, eyes downcast. It was so awkward and embarrassing, I wanted to curl up into a corner somewhere and cry, and then die. I don’t mean to be ‘that’ angst filled teenager, but I’d rather go through physical pain than to suffer through this.

“No, Silver, I’m sorry. I should never have brought you shopping with me as a colt. I see that I have irreparably damaged you,” She lamented with what another would think was an exaggerated gesture: heart on hoof and mournful swoon, but I knew better.

“Mother, ple-“

“Now you listen here, young colt!” Mother admonished, pointing at me an accusatory hoof. “You’re going to perish these thoughts from your head, you hear me clearly? No son of mine if going to fantasise of cuddling colts, or being cuddled by colts, or any menagerie of hoof on body, body on hoof action that you’re currently thinking of.” My mother ranted. She was wrong of course. I currently thinking; ‘What should I eat for breakfast tomorrow? With mom as angry as she is now, I’ll probably have to settle for apple jam on toast.’ Which unfortunately was followed by a slight dribble, which made mother blanche.

“Aureate, punish your son!” Mother commanded of my father, breaking him out of some kind of stupor. Probably thinking of a new jewellery design, or something of the sort.

“What’s wrong if our son is a coltcuddler?” he replied with an arched brow, shrugging. Even I find my brows creasing.

“I want to have grandkids when I die, and I want them to be in our name, Aureate!” Mother snapped, that vein in her forehead throbbing.

“I’m sure, Gem can convince her future husband to put them in her name.” Dad replied, which only seem to further enrage mother.

“What is this family dissolving into! We’re not some backward progressive savages! I swear, if only Luna reigned dominant we would not be having this discussion.” Mother sat back in the couch, forehooves crossed, pouting angrily.

“Son,” Father began leaning close, my mouth had long since fallen ajar, my brows knitted together as I looked back and forth in confusion. “it’s okay if you’re gay. We’ve all been there.” He ended with an almost, dare I say, dreamy expression. I grimaced.

“Aureate!” Mother exclaimed, I cringed at her shrill voice. “I cannot believe what I’m hearing!”

“He’s free to explore his sexuality, Lustrous.” Father explained pedantically, rolling his eyes. “If he’s gay, he’s gay, nothing wrong with that. Besides, if it’s a phase, then he’ll drop it after a few months and you get your wish. I’m happy, you’re happy, and he’s ‘queer’.” He ended with over pronunciation, winking and gave himself a prideful chuckle. Me and Mother both wore expressions of abhorrence.

“Fine, dear.” Mother relented, her tongue clicking against her teeth, tut-tut. “Although if he doesn’t abandon this abhorrent course, I’ll continue to be mad at him for the rest of his adult life, for both not granting me grandchildren and for ignoring his mother.”

“You’re so tolerant dear,” Father began, and I honestly couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or serious, looking at Mother with the same love-blind look he and her adopted after every brief verbal argument, “I love you.”

“And I, you, my Auri-kins.” She cooed, the gap between their faces dissipating as their lips neared each other, and I felt overcome with confusion when they locked lips in a loving kiss. A sickening sight. My head fell onto the table.

“Silver?” I heard my name called and I rose my head with a start, becoming acutely aware of my surroundings. Other students, clad in uniform (as was customary in Canterlot schools) trot between the tables. Other ponies sat, eating and talking, all what was usual during lunch period. I looked ahead, the perplexed expression of my friend, Maple, greeting me from my reverie.

“Yes?”

“What the heck is wrong you? First you don’t get lunch – which thank you by the way, my mom’s dieting me, ‘F.Y.I’, so having a second tray of food for lunch would go a long way in satiating me whilst mom starves me. Cunt,” Maple’s concern was always followed by complaint, usually about how it affected him in some way, and I rolled my eyes. He was egregiously fat, his obese face repulsive to look at, his umber coat having many folds, a countless number. He did manage to be endearing, when he wasn’t trying to be kind. His intent more often than not backfired, but he was a loyal and good, if somewhat heavily flawed, friend. “Go on. What’s made you sour.”

“Nothing,” I insisted, waving off his question with a hoof whilst resting my head on the other, “just thinking, that’s all.”

“Right…” He didn’t seem convinced, eyeing his over-generous portions of food hungrily. I could tell he wasn’t committed. “Heard about that new colt? Apparently all the fillies are fawning over ‘im.”

“Who, and why?” I asked, curious, and also wanting to rid myself of the thorn called ‘boredom’ in my side.

“Oh-ho,” He scoffed, dropping his fork. “Get this. He’s called ‘Synary’, his mom and dad are apparently some big-wig philanthropists. Real close with Celestia, or so I hear. But naming your kid that? It’s like they wanted him to grow up into some faggot... Not that I have anything against type of thing, or mean it in ‘that’ way.” He added with an disarming gesture of his hoof, looking to the rest of the table who overheard him, casting him stink eye.

“So why are the other fillies ‘fawning’ over him?” I asked, trying to act disinterested.

“’Cause he’s cute or something, I don’t know,” he replied, disinterested.

“Yeah, but like… cute how?” I asked nonchalantly, looking down at my food, trying not to appear interested – Which I sorely was. Already I pondered if he looked alike any of the stallions in the magazine: A barrel-chested lady’s stallion, or a slender but attractive colt of some sort, or maybe he was completely average – He just so happened to be a sycophant.

“I don’t fucking know. Am I mare or something? It’ s just what I heard, geez, Silver,” He spat along with some food in his teeth, causing me to recoil.

“Well, what does he look like?” tone half angry, half prying, some of his dinner in the table in front of me as chewed up refuse. He rolled his eyes, but found his attention grabbed.

“That’s him, right over there.”

I followed his sights, landing on a small crowd of mixed figures. They appeared to me at least, a congregation of popular fillies, whose pompousness and vanity emanated from them like a thick impenetrable aura.

“I don’t see him,” I said, squinting as I tried to discern a colt amongst them. ”all I see are fillies?”

“Dude, he’s one of them,” The comment of was off-hoofed, and I looked at him with bemusement.

“What do you mean ‘He’s one of them’?” I asked, looking at him with scepticism.

“The one with the whitish coat and blue mane,” he had entirely been absorbed by his dinner, or rather vice versa, stuffing his face. I rolled my eyes and cast them back to the flock, and then, with Maple’s vague description in mind, I found him.

From afar I couldn’t see him clearly, but he and the crowd he was attached to came ever closer. He was lithe, tall, and one would mistake him for sickly. His hips were wide, and he walked with a near sensual sway; that judging by the disposition of his averted expression was definitely not intentional. His beige coat and cerulean mane were soft to the eyes, and created a pony that one could easily look upon for a good long while without aversion. His face was a strange androgynous mess, which I do not mean as derision, just a simple statement of face. In one instance I swear he was a mare, but then the next he was unmistakably a stallion. And judging by his outwardly shy and flustered looking character, I can see why he could be judged as being ‘cute’ by the other fillies, and myself included. As he neared, I could make out his cutie mark. It looked like a sack of some kind, maybe a coin purse. Administration? Could simply being rich qualify you for a cutie mark?

I found that my eyes were upon him for too long, his vision suddenly shifted from the ground, and for the briefest of seconds our eyes met; his eyes amber. Unsure of what to do, I tore away and looked down, shoving the first thing into my mouth, hoping that I could avoid the moment ever happening; immediately gagging and spitting out the morsel, a piece of Maple’s previous refuse. He glanced up at me with creased brows, the folds created by his eye brows adding to his plethora already featured on his face, but attention was immediately taken by the school bell.

“Lunch’s over,” he said almost mournfully, “You got gym, right?”

“Yeah, you’ve got math, I believe,” I said.

“Ha,” he scoffed, shaking his head, “In that case, I’ve got an appointment with the exit!”

“You’re just gonna leave?” I said, arched brow.

“Listen. Miss Median could look like Celestia’s hotter younger sister, have flanks of divine proportions, and a vagina so tight it could snap my dick off. But it wouldn’t matter anyway because she’s a fucking asshole,” Maple ranted, swinging off the table chair. He had a crass way of putting, well, everything. Although he was simple like that. Simple is good. Not like the images coursing through my pubescent brain, the conjured ideate of Synary on his front, hind hooves crossed, looking up at me on the bed; his tail flicking as my erection inches ever closer to his hole. I shook my head, clenching my eyes shut and rubbing them, condemning my mind.

I opened my eyes, closed, and opened them again. There was no way, there was simply no way. Synary was in line with us, fidgeting, clad in the standard P.E. uniform, his tail twitched nervously just above the hem of his shorts. He was only separated from my side by one other colt, whose bored expression I adopted, for it was gym class, and it was boring. I had momentarily forgotten my ennui, Synary’s mere presence had snatched my attention from the droning on teacher, whose drab character seems to contrast physicality of the subject he was teaching.

“Alright, guys, we have a new student with us today,” Mr Kegel aimed a lazy hoof in the direction of Synary, who immediately shrank under the attention. Every eye flew to him, both the interested and disinterested, and even mine, and we waited for his greeting.

“H-hey. I’m Synary,” he said, meek and afraid. I could see on the opposing side a few colts arched brows, and behind me I heard a couple of sniggers. He sounded so quiet, almost like a little colt. I wonder where he was before he came here? It must have been infinitely better than here, considering his parents’ likely inexhaustible pockets, which even amongst the rich would make him a viable target for abuse from his peers.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way,” Mr Kegal began, his horn alighting with a green aura, a large red ball suddenly flying into his right upstretched hoof. Several groaned, others gave malicious teeters. “Dodgeball!”

“Oh, I am gonna kick flank,” said the colt beside me, his horn lighting up pink.

“Hey! No magic, or we’re all gonna take turns pounding you with our balls so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week! Silver you’re up!”

“Wh-“ My exclamation of my interrogative was interrupted by the firm red ball colliding with my face, knocking my head backwards with an audible ‘smack’.

My head collided against the tiled walls, the other colts pushing and shoving past me to their arbitrarily chosen stalls. The game had devolved into a mess, with dozens of balls flying through the air with no course or direction, it simply became chaos without an end. Those who were hit refused to leave the game, and received no backlash from it, seemingly enjoying throwing projectiles at others for no reason other than to hurt… or maybe they just didn’t want to stop having fun. Strange, sadistic fun, but fun nonetheless. Regardless, I breathed a sigh of relief when the whistle was blown, signalling our departure from the hall to the showers. Uniforms were strewn and thrown haphazardly into a communal hamper, ready to be cleaned, and given back to use next week.

The doors all closed in near unison, my eyes following from left to right as they slammed shut, until only a single stall remained at the complete right end of the room. As I walked, the other colts bantered between walls, their conversations loud and indiscernible… not that I was trying to hear what they were talking about.

I pushed open the stall door and winced. The wall was covered in assorted graffiti and hackneyed gratuitous vandalism of the written kind. I was reluctant to touch anything, lest I contract a disease of some kind from age old ink, but I put those fears to bed – I wasn’t, not more than twenty hours ago, fantasising about licking the cock of a stallion within an erotica magazine, who more likely than not had contracted a disease of some kind from the countless stallions (and possibly mares) he’d fucked. Never mind the mental image of feasting upon that, which was in another’s ‘back door’ sometime in the past.

I rose on my hind hooves, and I twisted the knob, regretting it almost instantly as I was hit with a barrage of cold water, which shortly thereafter became intolerably hot; before settling at a more reasonable lukewarm. I never understood how a school located in arguably the biggest melting pot of the rich in the country could have such lacklustre utilities. But I suppose like third born sons of the aristocracy, some parts or doomed to be left in the corner and forgotten. Although the more I think about the boring, it occurs to me that I’m doing this intentionally.

It wasn’t the result of yesterday’s affair with the magazine. It had been happening for a while now. My mind – which could arguably just be the fault of puberty, which is relentless upon me – constantly goes to sex and the provocative. Ever since I turned thirteen, it’s been unending. I saw a mare in the street, and imaged her prideful expression disappear as she went down on my cock, and her husband looked upon angry – it was then the fantasy changed into something that would leave me confused even to this moment – He joined in. Him and wife, eagerly servicing me. Yet as I looked upon them from my table at the café, drooling and lost in lust filled stupor, I was never once drawn out of it. That is, until they left, and the waitress delivered to me my order, and then she became the subject of my desires.

Although stallions have been on my mind as of late. Maybe I am, as my sister put it, ‘a colossal faggot’. I’m certainly perverted, even as rub my hooves down my own body, washing away the sweat, I can’t help but imagine my own body as that of another. I could picture it vividly. My barrel, pressed into the back of a smaller stallion, his heart thumping audibly in his chest. I nibble on his ear, wrapping my hooves around him, my throbbing co- No!

My cock was stiffening beneath me, the unflared tip pouring out of my sheath, and I can’t help but make it throb, the large meat smacking against my own stomach with a heavy ‘thud’. I bite my lower lip, and take all to consideration. I was sufficiently blue balled yesterday, and my cock begged to be touched. However, not a couple of metres to my left, there was another colt, separated only by a inch thick wall of plywood. I tried to ignore the urge, but it lasted for all but a second as the colt I was imagining, who before was a unrecognisable shape summoned by a lusty mind, became clear.

Synary was with me in the stall, kissing the nape of my neck as I mounted him from behind. My erect cock rested between his ample flack, gliding slowly up and down, his ponut soft and inviting to be filled beneath my erection. The image alone made my hoof move on southward on my body, my teeth gritting and I inhaled a gasp as my hoof prod against the tip of my dick, the sensitive spot being touched made my entire rod twitch. I’ve never been this hard before, whether it be due to a day being pent up, or the mere thought of Synary. Regardless, I’ve never been this compulsed to touch myself this much before.

I turned and leant my back against the wall, shower still running as to obscure noise. My cock jutted out from me obscenely, so engorged with blood, and so heavy as to swing nearly between my legs instead of sticking to my stomach. I never gave too much thought to it, but my cock was an impressive column of veiny meat. White, mottled grey, and looked comparable to the ponies in the magazine, maybe even larger than a few of them.

Eyes closed, the image Synary in my mind, I wasted no time in getting to work. Both of my hooves snaked down my body, and came to press on either side of my appendage, the stiff rod hard to the touch. I pictured Synary face down, plot up, his tail flicking eagerly. His smile of want was probably uncharacteristic, but it is a damned fantasy! I pictured myself sauntering to him, my cock swinging under my stomach, his hooves going to his flank and spreading his cheeks apart to accept me.

I bit my bottom lip, my hooves circling on my medial ring, my dick twitching and bouncing to my touch, pre leaked to join the water flowing down the sinkhole. Next I pictured mounting him, pushing my hips so hard down on him that he buckled, his body bearing the full weight of me. I kiss the nape of his neck, thrusting my powerful tool up and down his ass, my hooves firmly pressed against his flanks. As I tease the flare of my own cock, the sensitivity nearly making me buckle in pleasure, my fantasy self prods against Synary’s awaiting hole.

My hooves pressed against the top of my cock, and I imagined inching my way into Synary’s tight ass, my hooves trailed down my rod on either side with light pressure. I bit my lower lip, my hooves pressing into my medial ring, rotating in tiny circles on either side. My cock practically pulsated at the concurrent stream of pleasure coursing to my brain, only my head kept me balanced, as my hips had gradually angled further upward with every slight thrust I made toward a plot that simply wasn’t there.

I needed release, and I needed it now. I began to stroke rapidly from the base of my cock upward, coming back down just as quick to glide of the pleasurable ridge on my erection. I felt my sack tighten, my legs going firm as I tensed up, still managing to release a little pleasurable squeal despite how harshly I bit my lip to keep quiet. I was pounding him, my hips slamming against his flanks as I neared orgasm, my colthood throbbing inside of his tight plothole as he moaned aloud his desire for my cum. A gratuitous thought, I know, as well as highly unrealistic. But that hardly mattered, my hips bucking into nothing as my hooves ground into my medial ring, my body shivering in sheer bliss. My cock gave a strong throb, my dick erupting a torrent of my seed from my flared tip, my balls tightening in my sack as they emptied out their contents onto the shower floor. Five strong convulsions, seed trickled down onto the tile, washing away from the shower. I couldn’t help but release a low husky moan at the sensation, my hips pushed so far from the wall that my softening cock aimed directly at the ceiling, semen dripping down it like some kind of lewd ice pop, before landing against my stomach, coating some of my fur with my own cum. Huh, it does go quite far up me, I wonder if… wait!

Down at my right hind hoof, I noticed something that wasn’t there before. A small green rectangle, unmistakably soap. It must have slid through the shower stall by accident, but who… oh. My eyes slowly trail to my right, following the likely trail of the suds ridden square. My expression was deadpan, my cheeks blaze a red, a familiar pair of orange hue eyes looking upon me with an expression I can’t read. His hoof was a few centimetres from the soap, he likely reached for it without thinking anything of it, and caught me like this. I don’t know how long he was looking at me for, of whether he caught me now, or just at the end.

Regardless, I panicked. The second I opened my mouth, he fled, retreating from my stall with an agility I’ve seen before. I heard his stall door open and slam shut all too quickly, and in my attempt to catch up to him, I made an unheeding error. I slipped, my head colliding with the stall door, that same bar of soap that alerted me to his presence was now my undoing. Dazed, I opened the stall door, still soaking wet, and stepped out to him not at all, that is to say: long gone. It seems to be a theme as of late. Somepony catching me doing something lewd, and then it’s my downfall. However the consequences of this are quite unclear… I’m going to have to talk to Synary tomorrow…

…Crap. The rain was coming down hard. It pelted against the window like a thousand little stones, and was distractingly loud. I’m going to loathe walking home in that… Miss Median’s flapping jowls spoke, but her words devolved into white noise, all I could hear was the infuriating and unending taps against the glass. Although I suppose I could take the minute to think on my current predicament.

I was caught with a playmare: Check
Family thinks I’m gay: Check.
I jacked off in public thinking of a colt: Check
Synary saw me do it, possibly: Check

I mean, I may as well admit it to myself. I’m gay. There, that wasn’t so hard. I don’t know what all those colt cuddlers in mom’s magazines are saying. I think I just proved being a colt cuddler is a choice… Does this mean I have to act the part now? Surely not. I think it’d be too jarring a change, to pronounce my ‘super’ as ‘fuper’, and hit on every colt I meet. Although maybe I’ve been around Maple too much. Is it possible to offend oneself? And now that I think about it, I’ve only heard my mother say it’s a choice… I can just keep being myself can’t I? Maybe this won’t be too bad…

After the final bell rang, I resolved to go home, and wake up the next day content with my decision. This decision, and the smile I wore because of it, was immediately wiped away when I heard the certain words of a irked math teacher.

“Silver, a word please,” Miss Median said, prompting me to grimace before turning around, a false smile on my face.

“Yes, Miss Median?” I tried to sound cordial, although she adopted a scowl.

“Have you seen your classmate, and friend I believe, Maple?” She asked, her brows furrowed in a barbed expression, her ire thinly veiled.

“No I have not, Miss Median. Although if I do see him, I’ll be sure to carry along that you dislike his absence,” I said straightforwardly, expression neutral. She sighed and leant back down into her papers, horn alighting purple as she picked up a pen.

“Your friend creates garbage, Silver,” Miss Median said just as I turned to leave, suddenly halting my exit. I was about to turn around and express confusion but she opened her mouth before I could say anything. “A good friend will take it out instead, just so you know…”

“Right,” I said curtly, leaving.

“Also, do something about your hoofwriting… It’s atrocious!” I left with a wrinkled nose, rolling my eyes and closing the door behind me.

Others were walking toward the exit with a brisk pace, anxious to get home, seemingly uncaring of the rainfall, which helped to hinder the movements of my hooves. Maybe a minute more and it’ll stop? But even deep inside the interior of the academy I could hear the raindrops collide against the school like the beating of drum, except there was no millisecond of pause between strikes. It was just an ever constant vibration.

I turned a corner, the number of students sparse by now. The last few trickled out into the rain, unicorns raising magical umbrellas, pegasi raising their wings to flap above the clouds; I, an Earth pony, has no other choice but to brace for the incoming downfall to land upon me. Yet as I allowed my hooves to walk ahead, my eyes landed upon something

It was a mare. Her coat cherry blossom pink, her long soft looking mane a light red. She was looking ahead out into the rain, and was completely still, even as my hoof steps made sound in the empty hallway. I don’t know why I was suddenly walking with an even slower pace, almost as if I was walking on dry leaves and she a stray deer, and I was trying not to scare her away. I haven’t even seen her face yet, but if I was going only by her body she was incomparably beautiful. I wonder why she’s just sitting there. Doesn’t she want to go home?

Nonchalantly, I stopped walking and plopped myself beside her, a few feet separating us. There was a cold breeze but otherwise the air was tepid. I want to look at her face but I don’t know how to go about it. Maybe steal a glance, or call at her and run? No, not that. I don’t want to come as a creep. Maybe just greeting her would do it. Turn my body, look at her with a smile, and say hello.

“Hey,” she said, catching me in mid turn. I was left unsure of what to do. Her face was just as beautiful as I imagined, her face symmetrical and without makeup, her eyes like shining emeralds. I felt my heart skip a beat, and was left immensely confused. Perhaps sexuality wasn’t as straightforward as I imagined, and I couldn’t help but vocalise my confusion.

“What?” I exclaimed, brows furrowed.

“What?” she exclaimed too, concerned, her voice soft and mellow.

“What!” I exclaimed again, almost accusatory this time. Just when I thought I blew any chance of a conversation, she giggled.

“Sorry if I surprised you,” her voice was soft, her accent much more posh than my own, but lacked any kind of arrogance in it nor did her face express any kind of pompousness.

“No, no. Don’t apologise. Sorry I reacted the way I did. I get startled easily,” a lie, but seemed more ordinary than the actual reason, “I’m Silver.”

“Blossom Bloom,” She replied, smile and nod, “Silver? Ah, you’re Gem’s brother aren’t you?”

“Yep. How do you know her, if you don’t mind me asking?” I asked out of fear. If they were close friends, Gem might have disclosed the predicament she found me in yesterday via gossip, and this conversation could easily collapse if she said ‘you’re the gay one, right?’

“Of course I don’t. She’s a friend of a friend, really. Nevertheless I still remember your name being thrown around a couple of times. But I can see the resemblance,” Blossom said, her lip curling slightly as her eyes looked over me.

“Ah, right,” I said, nodding, “I’m sorry to say I’ve never even seen you wandering about, nor are you in any of my classes.”

“That’s not too surprising actually. I’m in senior year, I presume you’re a year below?”

“Correct,” I replied. That’d make her seventeen, or eighteen. Although from what I hear she’d dislike me asking that question. What could I possibly talk to her about? Usually, at least in my experience, friendships and conversations are had communally, usually at a table during a lesson or something similar. Somehow from that, it transitions to simple one on ones, and then maybe friendship. How the heck do I have a conversation right off the bat? I have no clue what we have in common, other than the shared acquaintance of my sister. But I know for a fact that if you can carry one conversation with someone for more than ten minutes, cordial familiarity is assured. But what do I speak to Blossom about? What else do we share…“Tell me, did you ever have Miss Median as a teacher?”

“Ah, yes. That bitch!”

Those words sparked within me a feeling of déjà vu. They were the first thing I heard walking through the front door of my home, my coat slightly damp from the last spittle the clouds had in them walking home. It was typical of this day that I shouldn’t have an easy… well, anything really. The brief respite with Blossom Bloom aside, everything else was going horrendously. So with that in mind, I furrowed my brows and mentally braced, pressing on into the foyer of the house.

“Ah, Silver dear, just the pony I wanted to see…” Mother greeted, her entire expression (a smile, welcoming eyes) was obviously false, “I have somepony I would like you to meet.”

“Mother…” I began, tone flat, “you can stop before either of us is humiliated, and you know full well it’s only going to be me.”

“Trust me, she’s an absolute delight!” Mother closed her eyes, and for some reason looked at me in a condescending way. Suddenly she tilted her head back and to the side, “oh, Twinkle, darling!”

Before I could interject, my eyes were cast the staircase, and atop it caused my heart to momentarily seize. Now, this was not a ‘skip’, it was as if it was holding breath out of fear. The mare at the top was completely black, as if coated in tar, her admittedly well maintained mane like coagulated ink, and her eyes were a garish hue of red. I would occasionally see her teeth, her mouth masticating a stick of gum. Additionally she looked upon both Mother and me with a blank expression. I would call it stoic but I had no idea if she was capable of feeling emotion of any sort at all.

“Hey,” she started, tone dead… oh, that’s it.

“Mother,” I said hushed through gritted teeth, leading her off to the side, “you really shouldn’t have done this.”

“Now, now, dear. I’ve brought you a mare. Now bed her, please,” she requested, unabashed, and then it hit me.

“She’s a prostitute?!”

“Dear, that’s a bit vulgar isn’t it? Surely, ‘mare of the night’, is more respectable.”

“You brought her here in broad-fucking-daylight!”

“Language!” she scolded me, and I just gave her a look of disbelief.

“Mother, you brought a prostitute under our roof in the middle of the day with the intent of having her have sex with your underage son, I think my ‘language’ was perfectly justified,” I explained, scowling. For whatever reason I glanced to my left, double taking when I saw Twinkle’s bright red eyes staring right into mine directly beside me. “O-oh fuck.”

“Language, Silver!”

“Hey,” Twinkle said… all she said.

“Mother, pay her, and get rid of her. I’m going to my room,” I left the circle backwards, spinning on my hind hooves and climbed up the stairs.

“For what?”

“I’m not going to use her ‘services’, so get her to do something else, or think of it as a tip. I don’t care which,” I half yelled over my shoulder, disappearing from the foyer into the second floor hallway.

I breathed a sigh of relief, but may have been too soon on my part. As soon as it went passed my lips Father appeared from out a room, horn alight. I internally groaned. I was caught between Mother and her prostitute, and I could only theorise Father’s plan to blight me.

“Ah, Silver! Just the pony I wanted to see,” Father spoke in a tone that filled me with dread, and I visibly grimaced.

“Yes, Father?”

“Now I know your Mother had reservations about you being gay,” Father said, and I felt my face crease.

“Y-yes?”

“Well, I just want you to know I’m here for you son,” Father gave me a smile, and for a moment I felt a small glimmer of warmth in my chest.

“Thanks Dad. That means a lot to me, thank you,” I found my expression contorting into a small smile.

“Yes, well, in order to help you on your way I looked into my old college stuff, and look at what I found!” Father’s voice high in elation, and my face immediately sagged.

“Great…” I teetered off as a suspicious brown package floated out the room behind him.

“Now back in the day, we had only the greats I tell ya!” he reminisced, going misty eyed. “’Tripod’ Star, ‘Carnivore’ Flowers –Very good at eating ‘meat’, if you know what I mean – I swear, some of those stallions were packing. I swear, when they stood on two hooves all they needed to balance was get ha-“

“Ah-oh-‘kay!” I interrupted, skirting passed him. I didn’t bother to look over my shoulder, and could only guess he was still ‘reminiscing’. Regardless, a few more steps down the hall I suddenly found myself bumping into my sister, “h-hi, Gem.”

She pulled back her lip into a slight sneer, furrowing his brows. “Ew.”

“Nice to see you too.” I rolled my eyes as we passed by one another, and I silently hoped Father would include to impart his memories of youth unto her as she passed by him.

Thankfully I suffered no more interruptions reaching my room, the door of which I pressed quietly closed despite my mood. I didn’t want to attract any more attention, especially from my ‘loving family’… ok, that’s not fair is it? Their intentions for me are purely out of their love for me – even if there exist slight discrepancies in their motivations – I remember when I was a young colt, and one day I woke from sleep in the middle of the night. It was caused by a bright flash, and when I looked at its source, I began to weep.

It was quite a nice one. My new cutie mark a silver goblet with a large blue sapphire in the middle. Gem’s was a large diamond, refracting many colours. Mother’s was three golden ingots, piled on one another. Dad’s was two iron wreaths overlapping. Whilst in terms of design they weren’t particularly unique, but they all depicted their distinct talent or overarching personality. Mine? I had no clue. So I cried, my sobs loud enough to wake up the entire household.

That entire night my family worked above and beyond to make me feel better. My ten year old sister tried over and over to make me laugh, Mother gave me a shoulder to cry on, and Dad kept rubbing my back as he spouted off words of consolation. That night we all slept on my bed, one big sandwich of comfort and I the filling. With that memory in mind I found my anger evaporate. Maybe I wouldn’t scream into my pillow like I had initially planned, but instead I would need to think on today’s events.

Climbing onto my bed, looking at the ceiling, I immediately closed my eyes and begun to think. Blossom Bloom took up a portion of my thoughts, her name kept suddenly being exclaimed out in my head, always in the middle of critical thought; my eyes kept parting whenever it happened to the point of being frustrating. And when I relented to the whims of my mind, Blossom at the forefront of my mind, replaying out our conversation over and over in my head, Synary’s blushing expression appearing beside Blossom’s. Those two have left me immensely confused.

My eyes parted, and I felt exasperated when I realised the mere thought of them caused a great stirring in my downward ‘area’. And with a tut, and a sigh, I put both Blossom and Synary on the list of problems for future Silver, and decided to have a moment of pathetic self-indulgence with those two in mind…

Chapter 2: Voyeur And Bad Coffee

It was seven o’clock in the morning and I was sitting at the dinner table along with Gem, who went to great pains to cast me a scowl every time I even so much as breathed in her direction. I couldn’t tell by this point if she was at an increased state of hatred for me due to my sexuality, or that I had stolen her dirty mag. Although from what I was recently showcased by Dad, chances were she might have stolen it from him first… why the hell did he keep a hold of those anyway?

Mother took her place at the table, mane in many curlers and dressed in a red velvet dressing gown. “Good morning, darlings.”

“Good morning, Mother,” me and Gem said in unison, although both our expressions were similarly confused.

“Where’s breakfast?” I asked, arching a brow at her.

“All taken care of,” Mother cast me a smug pout, “Oh, Twinkle dear!”

“Wait, wh-“

“Hey,” said Twinkle, pushing the breakfast cart through the kitchen door. She was certainly less alike a shadow, clad in an over the top maid costume. Where Mother acquired one I don’t want my mind to even tread into possibilities.

“I thought I told you to get rid of her!” I spoke hushed through gritted teeth, glancing to my sister’s furrow browed expression.

“Yes, yes, but for what reason? I hadn’t paid her, but I had the most magnificent idea.”

“You made her our maid!?”

“Have you seen how much they go for these days? She was practically a steal, and besides, she’s an absolute delight! Twinkle, tell him of how you got your name,” she asked the prostitute turned maid as she laid out a plate in front of my sister, and I could only hope she washed her mouth before assuming this new role.

“It was the first thing my mom thought when she got my ears pierced as a foal,” Twinkle said matter of factly, her tone still monotone, and I went slack jawed at hearing such a tragic thing.

“Hahaha,” Mother shrill laugh made me cringe, and Twinkle’s total lack of emotion as she placed down Mother’s plate made me think she had spat in it. “Oh, Twinkle, you’re simply exquisite,” Mother said as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

“Well I think my appetite has been irreversibly spoilt,” I lamented, swinging off the chair. “Au revoir.”

“Oh come now, Silver. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Mother said, chastising me.

“That it may be, but right now I couldn’t imagine anything else that I want to do less than eat at this table right now.”

I rooted through my sparsely packed locker, my hoof shifting through my textbooks and I tutted when I realised my math textbook was missing. I must have left in Miss Median’s class. I am not looking forward to that mess. Speaking of messes, I needed to speak to Synary as soon as possible. I have no idea how that conversation would go…

Although after slamming my locker door shut, apparently the fates had it out for me, as I pounced back a step in surprise at the face hiding behind the open door. “S-Synary?”

“H-hi,” he spoke meekly, his face was averted down but his eyes looked up at me. He reminded me of a puppy.

“Wha- ah, um…” I lost my words, simply closing my lips tight and furrowed my eyebrows. I shuffled nervously on my hooves, and he fidgeted. I turns out speaking to someone is a heck load harder when you’re aware they’ve seen your dick.

“I-I’m Synary,” he said.

“I-I know,” I replied. "I'm Silver."

"I know."

More fidgeting.

“About yesterday,” he started tentatively, voice still barely above a whisper. He felt a complete heart wrenching shame that I could have imagined this colt, of all colts, to be face down plot up with a seductive look on his face. He was, with no small amount of uncertainty, adorable.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that. I don’t know what I was thinking, doing –“ I lowered my voice, slightly closing the gap between us “that in the shower. Again, I can’t stress how sorry I am.” My profuse apology one part genuine guilt over my accidental exhibition, one part due to the fact he was the main reason why.

He shifted balance between his two fore hooves, his muzzle going a slight shade of pink, looking down to the floor. “Are you going to do it a-again?”

“W-why?” I asked, arching a brow out him. There was something odd about his averting of eyes, and his bright blush. His mouth opened and shut, and he bit his lower lip.

“So I can watch…”

“What?” Maple sounded annoyed, his hoof flailing,. “Is this gonna be a common fucking occurrence for you now?”

“Lay off, I’m just thinking,” I rubbed my hooves into the alcoves of my eyes, sighing.

“Well could you be less annoying about it, you’re cramping my style,” Maple sniffed, looking down at his food.

It was lunch, and I’ve had four whole hours to think about what Synary said. I even hid in the bathroom during break to minimise the chances of encountering him again before gym. Even in the bawdy lunch hall his words were still the loudest in my head. ‘So I can watch’. Is there any other way to interpret that? Because it sounds rather transparent to me. He wants to watch me jack off, nothing weird about that right… right? No, this is weird, this is very weird indeed. What the fuck am I going to do? I mean, I suppose I could just not do it, but then that little part of me that’s always loudest thinks I should… oh this is so fucked.

I continued to wallow in self-loathing and confusion for a good few minutes, when perhaps the most unexpected thing happened… you know, besides what happened with Synary. “Uh…”

“What the fuck,” Maple mouthed at me, mouth ajar and brows sewed together in an expression of abject confusion.

Blossom Bloom, without so much as a word, took a seat next to Maple. She placed her lunchbag on the table and unpacked it whilst humming a happy tune, and me and Maple shared puzzled expressions. All around us many pairs of eyes looked at the marvel before us, either that, or they were looking in disbelief that such a mare would be sitting with the two of us: Obese O’Lardass and Anonymous Mc’Nobody. Maple had pretty much frozen in place, eyes glancing between me and her. To tear Maple from his food was a truly impressive feat, and for that I knew I would always hold immense respect for Blossom for pulling off this monumental task.

“B-Blossom Bloom?” I probed, mouth ajar.

“Hi, Silver. How are you?” She asked, looking at me with smile that exuded friendliness, and she made my heart skip a beat for a second time since meeting her.

“Good, g-good, you?”

“Excellent, thank you very much,” she replied, chipper, finishing unpacking her lunch.

Meanwhile Maple placed a hoof to hide his face from Blossom, and mouthed the words - ‘how the fuck? - toward me with an expression of disbelief. He glanced at Blossom who looked at him with an arched brow, and he shifted, placing his hooves together and looked at me with a disconcerting grin; his eyes casting me a death glare.

“S-so, uh, Blossom. What brings you here?” I tried to ignore Maple’s wide eyes stare.

“Oh, no reason. Just thought I’d sit with a frie-”

“What?!” Maple exclaimed at me, and when Blossom glanced at him with an arched brow, he adopted a straight posture, leaning his head on his hoof with a barely held together smile; when she looked away he scowled at me.

“Well, hi, Blossom. Hey, Maple, Blossom, Blossom, Maple,” my hoof trailed from right to left, pointing the mare and stallion on the other side.

“Hi, Maple. I’m Blossom Bloom,” her hoof was aimed at his, a lopsided smile on her face.

“Salutations, Blossom,” his voice went husky, but cracked on the second half of her name, his attempt at being suave a cringe worthy display.

They shook hooves and then I clopped mine together. “Well, now that introductions are out of the way, I’ve got you ask. If you don’t mind that is.”

“Not at all,” she smiled, looking me the eye as she balanced her sandwich on her hoof.

“I thought you were a senior student. How’d you manage get permission to sit in this lunch hall?” I asked, and I Maple suck in his lips and look away, and I saw around me that other ponies were still looking at us, now muttering between themselves.

“Oh, that’s easy. I just asked my Father,” she stated matter-of-factly, lifting the sandwich up to her muzzle.

“And that is?”

“Oh boy…” Maple muttered, looking down at his meal.

“Principle Bounty,” - she bit into her sandwich, and I could hear the crunch of potato - “what, didn’t you know?”

“No!”

“Quieten down you pussy,” a colt on the opposing team chastised the team captain of ours. The last of the pick, an overweight colt with a magenta coat, joined our line.

I had a red scarf tied around my right forehoof, the pony adjacent to me wore one of blue. We were all dressed in uniform, in the center between the two lines was a soccer ball. To my right, separated by another colt, was Synary. He was staring straight ahead, blank faced. Was he not nervous? My heart felt like it was wrapped in wire that was tightening ever so slowly. My nerves were being stretched, my gut tied into many knots. Am I going to go through with this? Maybe I can skip the shower today and forget any of this ever happened. The sour looks from my classmates will be negligible to my overall dignity.

“Ok guys,” said Shoot, the team captain, “don’t fuck up.”

“Encouraging,” I said drily under my breath, trailing behind my line as we went to our side of the hall.

I took a unassuming spot near the net, being assigned as a defender. My team was scattered over our side of the court, the team captains both in the middle as Mr Kegel balanced the soccer ball on his hoof, whistle in his mouth. Synary was somewhere off to the right, and by some sick twisted fate he was assigned defender too. It made sense, we were both kind of scrawny. The overweight colt was made goalie because of course he was. I looked at him from out the corner of my eye, I didn’t want it to be too obvious he occupied a majority of my thoughts, especially to him. But I honestly could help it. Maybe this would be the last time I saw him, because when I deny him his show the ever present awkwardness would force one of us to leave the school, I’m sure of it. I may as well indulge my eyes on him one last time.

“Game!”

I heard the squeak of a ball and like all physical education sessions - it descended into complete chaos.

I kept my eye on the black and white sphere as it flung and bounced from room corner to room corner. It would get kicked in the general direction of the net, get kicked to the opposing side of the court. Rinse and repeat. Despite this, I managed to work up a sweat. We were essentially the equivalent of desk jockeys without any work to do. Running is simply our counterpart of looking like we’re working, when all we’re really doing is pissing about until the shift ends. However this had some unforeseen consequences, especially concerning Synary.

Halfway through the match, just after the ball had transitioned back to the other side of the hall, Synary had strayed forward from the goal box. He standing just short of the hallway point, just a few meters in front of me. He had been quite active, although I think that was more so he could avoid the action than be in the middle of it, so he was visibly tired. It was no surprise, especially to myself, that I found the sight of him in this state particularly intoxicating.

His forehooves had slightly given out, leaving his plot aiming slightly higher than normal. If this was it I wouldn’t have been as enraptured, but no, there was more. His breaths were heavy, always emphasis on the exhale, his mouth ajar and tongue hanging. His coat was absolutely coated in sweat, his uniform damn near see through. Now the pièce de résistance, what made my hind legs quiver in arousal, was his flank. His shorts were either a little too tight or had clung to him more so due to sweat, but it created a sight that only I would notice. Everything, and I mean everything was defined. His balls were practically visible, the sight of his plump package sent shockwaves down my spine and into my dick. It took everything I had to not become hard. If that wasn’t bad enough, and up along the bridge of his scrotum his ponut was - wait a second… those shorts are a shade of green, so why is his ponut bla-

“Fuck me,” I said in amazement, and then it was almost as if the entire world had fallen into nothingness and all was left was me, and the sight of totally uncensored flank hole. Which in retrospect, would be a pretty pathetic thing to say out loud. But by Celestia there it was. Taut, plump, inviting. Goodness fucking graci-

“Silver, head it!”

“Wh-”

Not again.

It was the same as yesterday, staring at a block of showers as the doors all slammed shut. I was shaking. I couldn’t possibly be excited could I, or was it just nerves? I walked down the aisle, my hoofsteps sounding louder to me than the 24 colts bantering between stalls. It was as if I became acutely aware to everything about my body as I was walking, from my controlled breaths, to my quivering legs. I reached the final stall and closed it shut behind me, turning on the shower. I don’t think I blinked the entire time. How long was I supposed to wait? Maybe just like me he got nervous and called the whole thing off. But then again I don’t think I’ll be so lucky.

Knock, knock, knock

I went wide eyed, staring straight ahead at the tile. “Oh, shit.”

I turned around, trying not to create little splashes in the water, and I saw beige hooves under the stall door. I gulped. This, now this is the point of no return. I could bar entry, tell him to fuck off, and cool beans… but I don’t think I can. I know now, this isn’t fear or apprehension, this is excitement. Maybe a bit of nervousness, but who wouldn’t be when about to jack it in front of somepony else? I may live to regret this, or maybe not. We might slip and trip on the slippery tiles, collide heads and die… but I think that’s a risk I’m honestly willing to take. There are two words that when on their own aren’t special, but together they create a statement of indisputable wisdom and work as an answer to any inner turmoil when joined as one… fuck it.

“C-come in,” I stuttered.

The door went slightly ajar, a crack of light coming through, before the creak of hinges sounded as it was pushed fully open. Outside, coat and mane wet, was Synary. His eyes were downcast, and his lips pursed shut, his cheeks blushing a light pink. I physically felt my heartbeat quicken, which surprised me, as I didn’t think it was possible if could go any faster than before. He placed out a hoof to take a step, and it hovered, shaking profusely. I kind of wanted to verbally encourage him, but I think I only had it in me to say one sentence without my voice cracking.

When he finally took that step forward I released a breath, unawares that I had even been holding it in. For a moment our muzzles were inches from each other as he closed the stall with one of his hind hooves, and I found myself for a second lost in his eyes. It was strange, something I thought was only cliché in the worst of romance novels was a legitimate feeling one could undergo with another. I snapped out of it when he backed up to the adjacent side, a two and a half foot gap between us.

“S-so, h-how do we go forward from here,” I asked, the colt across from looked as bashful as I felt - very.

He shifted on his hooves, and he cast his eyes to me, his mouth fluttering between open and closed. “I don’t know.”

I arched my brow, smiled meekly. “W-well, how about I just start?”

“O-ok.”

I gulped. I shut my eyes tight as I stood on my hind hooves, back pressing against the tiled wall, left of the tap. Never before did I think my day could have gone like this, but here I was, embracing it. Cracking open an eye I saw that Synary’s timidness had dissipated somewhat. Whilst he still sat on his flank, looking like somepony who was trying to avoid eye contact, his eyes were obviously focused on one place. His mouth was open ajar, and despite the lack of noise I could see from his inflating chest that his breaths were long and greedy, his exhales curt and quick. D-does he like what he sees?

I held my hooves close to my barrel, but deciding to press on I dragged them down my moist body. I didn’t intend for it to be erotic, but apparently he did, and I saw the smidgen of a nibble in the corner of his lip. The sight alone was apparently enough for my body kickstart my arousal, by the time my hooves reached my package, my dick had already begun to harden out from its sheath. I massaged the base of my expanding cock, waiting until it reached full erectness to ‘being’ properly, but the look on Synary’s face threatened to make me blow right then and there.

“W-wow…” he teetered off. No longer was he trying his best not to state, now he was completely bodacious, his eyes surveying my length. “I-it’s… big.”

I didn’t reply. Honestly, I would have been doing hoof pumps in the air if I wasn’t already so involved in what I was doing. My heavy rod swung out from me, and if he wanted Synary only needed to take reach out forward if he wanted to touch, which he actually looked very close to doing. When my sex twitched up, his eyes followed the head of my cock as it did so, and that look alone was enough for me to find pleasure in. I had no imagination to work on this time, not if someone was watching, but I don’t think I needed it.

I pressed my hooves on opposing sides of my meat, wasting no time stroking up the medial ring and back to the base. Usually, when isolated in my room, I kept my lips pursed shut so I didn’t make a sound. That way I wouldn’t attract any attention or unwarranted suspicion that I was doing such an act, but before Synary to do the same would be unfair. The next time I brushed over my medial ring I released a small gasp from my mouth, appendage twitching, and eye closing as my body constricted in pleasure. It may have been a trick of the light, but I think I saw Synary’s tongue come out over his lip.

As I continued my slow tender stokes, a thought occurred to me. “Why don’t you have some fun too?”

“W-what,” he stuttered, blushing.

“It’s only fair, right? You’ve seen mine,” I punctuated my tapping the base of my erection, “let me see yours too.”

“R-right,” he nodded, and I could hear him gulp.

I didn’t stand on hind hooves like I, he instead simply leant back against the stall door, hind legs parting; giving me an immediate view of his colthood. He was already erect, which didn’t come as a surprise. It wasn’t as long or girthsome as mine, nor as impressively large as the ones I saw in the playmare, but I had me in trance. His cock, unlike mine which adopted the colour of my coat (a mottled grey and white length), his was matte black. It was so full with blood it clung to his stomach, and his heavy orbs looked terribly swollen. I wonder how long it’s been since he last got off?

I found we were sharing this feeling, as I was totally captivated by the sight. “W-woah.”

He was shy about his own body, clearly. He kept his hooves close to his chest, even as his cock throbbed, begging for him to touch it. I couldn’t help imagine the sight of him like this on a bed, as a weirdly naive teenager to the world of sex, and he meets the idea with an averted gaze and a whimper. Would I be morally reprehensible if I said I found it cute? He reached down the head of his shaft, brushing against the head of his cock, suppressing a moan behind his lips his body visibly twitched. He looked up at me with an expression I couldn’t read, his lips pursed and his brows knitted, although this brief pause was followed by his hoof sliding down the head of his shaft to the base, and I swallowed.

With his throbbing meat the complete focus of my sight I trailed my hooves up either side of my shaft, trying to match the speed of his strokes, which were torturously slow. Whenever he glided over his medial ring his hoof would retreat, and he’d cringe, whilst giving out a suppressed moan. Already I could see his shaft leaking pre, which stuck to his fur around his chest. He must have thousands of nerve endings over every inch of his shaft to prompt these reactions, or maybe he just seldom touched himself in this way. Regardless, the sight of a moaning colt made my cock throb, and my throat groan in wondrous ecstasy.

Whilst I pumped my shaft, the angle at which my meat was pointed occurred to me just then. The leaking tip of my cock was eye level with Synary, who by this point had resigned finally to rubbing his shaft, his lips parting to release a pleasured whimper every now again. The thought of plastering his face with my seed was a thought that triggered my hooves to move faster, which I might have thought was a subconscious act, if I hadn’t done it as soon as the thought entered my head. Synary watched me, eyes alternating between my eyes and my cock, his face home to a tremendous blush. Did he know, was the same idea in his head too? I wasn’t honestly gonna go through with it, it was only to help me along but…

“I-I’m nearly there,” I told him, slowing down my strokes, every spark of pleasure being drawn out and savoured.

“M-me too,” he informed, his strokes hastening.

I began to curl over, one of my hooves pressing against the stall wall to maintain balance, my other rubbing furiously my medial ring. While I felt compelled to close my eyes, I cracked one of them open to look at Synary, whose head was pressed back against the door, his eyes shut. Then, unmistakably, I saw his lips move. No words came out of them, but they spoke something. Something that made my legs shake, and my body convulse in orgasmic bliss, four simple words I don’t think he intended for me to hear or see: give it to me

My erection swelled, the tip flaring as I came to orgasm. The first shot of my seed surprised him, his hooves retreating to his chest, a strand of smacking into his muzzle. The second strand his neck and trailed down to his chest. The third landed on his hoof and went down to just shy of his cock, the final shot glazed most the length of his cock, veering off to the left near his still unemptied orbs. The next simply hit the floor, washing away down the drain. I looked at him apologetically, his face frozen in surprise, his cheeks had surpassed a blush appearing entirely red. I looked to his cock, which for a few moments throbbed and twitched, contrasting to his otherwise motionless body.

Then, despite no stimulus from Synary’s hoof, the tip flared and cum spurted forth from the cock. It dribbled, some down the length joining with mind, most just stuck to his fur adding the mess I created. As outrageously hot as that was, I smirked, all the while sliding down the tiled wall. His expression, combined with the mess, for some reason was funny to me. He brought his hoof to his muzzle, and wiped away the strand plastered at the end of it, and I was reduced to giggles. He looked at me wide eyed and blinking, before he too began to join in, snickering before devolving into full blown laughter.

“I’m sorry about that,” I apologised between chuckles, sitting more comfortably, the shower water still falling.

“Don’t.,” he stated, his lips pulled back into a toothless smile. Funnily enough his posture and the way he looked at me still implied he was shy, or still reserved, his eyes visibly having trouble keeping locked with mine.

From outside we heard the showers closing off and the stall doors opening and closing, a plethora of hoofsteps and chattering voices conjoined into a herd, the other colts leaving the shower block.

“Silver, new kid, come on we gotta go,” I heard a nondescript voice call out to us, and was thankful Synary left his shower on when he joined me in mine. I’ll be sure to apologise to mother nature for the wasted water.

“Come on, let’s go,” I said, rising to my hooves, although when I looked at him I stopped being so hasty. “Oh…”

“Yeah, I’ll be right out,” he said, grimacing at the copious amounts of semen on his fur.

I flashed an apologetic smile as he rose to his hooves, passing by him as he took position under the shower head. As I opened to the stall door, I heard a quiet voice.

“T-thank you.”

“Y-yeah. Anytime.”

“What’s the matter with you?” Maple asked in a whisper, his head directed ahead. Miss Median was at the front of the class, drawing various symbols and equations on the chalkboard, other students were visibly haggard and zombie-like looking at the board. I guess Maple’s curiosity stemmed from the fact that I was not.

“Nothing,” I replied, struggling to keep the smile on my face subdued.

“Come on, bro, you’re hiding something, Spill the beans, share the cake, some other food metaphor. Come on,” he begged, looking at from the corner of his eye.

“I swear, nothing happened,” I was resolute, eyes locked on the chalkboard.

“Fine. Be that way,” he said, voice plummy, “but the next time you see, Patty Cake I need you tell her that, Blossom is my friend, not yours.”

“What!” I exclaimed, voice hushed, although I turned my head to look at him. “Why?”

“Yeah, well some of the fillies and colts saw her sit next to me. Apparently they thought she was there for me, not you. But hey, I ain’t complaining,” he finished with a shrug, although his smile smug, “I mean, Patty Cake spoke to me. Me! Can you believe that shit?”

Patty Cake was one of the ‘popular’ fillies, and for someone so high in the food chain to speak with refuse at the bottom of it was certainly remarkable… not that I was interested in the slightest. All this bullshit pseudo drama and social circles fill me with an apathy I haven’t felt since I learnt Gem was getting her mane dyed. “Fine, fine. Whatever.” As long as it stopped his questioning I was content with the compromise.

Now I could think without his constant interruptions, and maybe he’ll do some work for once. But after what happened in the shower, I can’t help but ask: are me and Synary coltfriends now? I don’t think so. I’m not an expert or anything, but I’m pretty sure it more complex than that. I mean, technically nothing happened, just two separate counts of masturbation. Even now however, I couldn’t help but think of him. For a moment I was lost in his eyes weren’t I? As sappy as this is, I think if those emerald irises were turned into plains, I could have galloped across them forever… whatever that means. But no matter how warm he makes me feel just from image alone, I know nothing of Synary himself. Maybe, just maybe, I have to take the initiative here...

After the bell rung everypony wasted no time in escaping Miss Median’s clutches. Maple was surprisingly efficient at escaping her judgemental gaze. It was almost like he used his innate gravitational force as walking talking celestial body to attract other ponies to clamour around him to hide himself. She didn’t even need to say anything, but her ever judgemental stare just made me feel rotten. It was like her super power, if being able to make anypony cringe at will was a superpower. I can only be thankful she had nothing to say, but still, those eyes…

I was the last out of the classroom, as the other students had packed themselves so densely that I was forced to the back. They fanned out, disappearing into a confetti of colours and faces, all shouting between themselves and joining the waves of students making their way to the exits. This was quite a day. I’m not sure if it was productive, or… well, whatever you call what happened in the showers. Regardless, this was a pretty good day, I can’t believe I’m actually anxious to see what tomorrow bri - Is that Blossom Bloom?

She was standing by some lockers, exchanging words it looked like with another mare, although the other quickly departed leaving her by herself. Her eyes were bouncing around, scanning for something, or someone. I continued to walk down the hall, flanked on either side by other students. I saw her glance in my direction, look away, and look back with an arched brow and an unsure expression, before beaming. She beckoned me over with her hoof, and I felt no other course than to oblige.

“Hey, Silver. How are you?” She greeted, her smile, as always, pleasant.

“Fine, fine. You?”

“I’m doing great, thank you,” she replied, and her smile only furthered in size. Needless to say I felt the fluttering of butterflies in my stomach.

“G-good, good…” I teetered off, giving a smile that I hope didn’t show off any of my nervousness. “It was nice seeing yo-”

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something,” her lips scrunched together as if in thinking, and it was hard to tell due to the colour of her fur, but there may have been a blush on her face. What was happening right now?

“Y-yeah?” I stuttered, unsure of what was about to come out of her mouth.

“I had some free time this afternoon-”

Ok?

“And I was just wondering-”

Uh?

“If maybe you wanted to get something to eat,”

Uh…

“Together?”

OH!

Her sentence had come out to me in slow motion, and I was left blank faced and silent. I shouldn’t, surely not? I’m pretty sure what I did with Synary in the shower would abdicate me from this position. Maybe I was misconstruing her request. Surely I was misinterpreting it as a date, I mean, we’ve only known each other for, what, a day? I should say no, it’s the sensible thing, right? Say no Silver. Say it. No, no, no, no, no….

“No, no, no, no, no…” I self-chastised, hooves covering my eyes on the couch. I had been like this for the past two hours, pitying myself all the while lambasting myself for being a huge fucking moron.

“What’s wrong with you?” I heard Gem’s voice sound from the opposing side of the room, and it was apathetic and uncaring as ever. Maybe she asked as a formality, I did hear her come further into the room presumably to take a seat.

“I’m surprised you care,” I said, placing my hooves on my stomach, staring lazily at the ceiling. “I thought you’d still be disgusted at my mere presence.”

“Oh, believe, I am,” she said, sitting in father’s recliner, a book being placed open in the arm, “but I can tolerate it while you’re like this.”

“I’m glad my misery is favourable to you,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

“I don’t like it, Silver. It’s just when you whine I’m overcome with irritation instead, and have to put disgust on the backburner,” Gem explained, and then a strange idea popped into my head.

“Wanna hear about it?”

As soon as the sentence left my mouth, she released the loudest, ear shattering in volume laugh. The very foundations shook, the windows creaked in their frames, and I felt my optimism crumple. “No. I’m not interested in your gay shit, Silver. And yes, I don’t just mean crap with your friends.”

“Hey,” I exclaimed, propping myself up, “my issue is quite the opposite really.”

“Oh?” She tore her eyes away from the book, looking at me with an arched brow and a mock smile. “Don’t tell me that you, you, are having mare troubles?”

“Yes. Yes I am,” my voice was underlined with a small ounce of pride. As fun as her reaction would be if I told her word for word the event that occurred with Synary, this would probably help me more in the long run… maybe.

“Ok, spill it,” she slammed close her book, and looked at me condescendingly, a humoured smile on her face.

“I have a date… I think,” I said, although she looked bemused more than anything.

“‘I think’, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think I have a date with a mare… I think.”

“You ‘think’ it’s a date, or do you ‘think’ it’s a mare?”

“No, no, she’s definitely a mare,” I said, although I momentarily paused when I thought about how easy it was to mistake Synary for one, but I shook it away. I definitely won’t let Gem confuse me.

“Wait, wait, wait. You don’t know if you’re on a date or not?” By now she appeared thoroughly confused, leaning on the edge of her seat.

“Well that’s the thing, see. I don’t know,” I shrugged, sitting up on the couch.

“Where are you having it?”

“I don’t know. Some cafe.”

“Yep,” she said curtly, sitting back in the recliner and opening her book.

“T-that’s it? No more questions, just: ‘yep, it’s a date’?” I was incredulous, looking at her with disbelief.

“Yeah. A mare doesn’t ask a stallion out to a cafe unless it’s a date, duh,” she mocked, not even giving me the courtesy of looking me in the eye.

“Come on, not every single time a filly asks a colt to a cafe is it a date. And hey, wait a minute, why are you assuming it was her that asked me?”

She pressed the book against her chest and looked at me with condescension, smirking. “Please.”

“Thanks,” I spat at her, crossing my forehooves. “Well… got any tips?”

She looked up in thought, chewing the inside of her cheek, before looking back at her book. “Don’t fuck up.”

Don’t fuck up.

As pathetic a piece of wisdom that is, I found it strangely versatile. Clean up nice, and don’t fuck up. Get a nice satchel to carry your sack of bits, and don’t fuck up. Go and meet Blossom Bloom, have a pleasant late afternoon, and of course: don’t fuck up. Even whilst leaving the house my sister’s advice rung aloud in my head, all other sounds seemingly dissipated, being filled only by those three words. Still, it didn’t stop my heart, which threatened to beat out of my ribcage. And if that didn’t kill me, I’m sure I’ll die of dehydration from sweating so much.

The café was in a part of Canterlot I rarely visited, so finding this place was like trying find my way in the dark, with my hooves fumbling along a wall. It was a busy street, where the few carriages in Canterlot actually traversed back and forth, with many bustling ponies going about their days. The tall multi-storey buildings had lucrative storefronts of many kinds. Needless to say in a city filled to the brim with rich ponies with a lot of time in on their hooves, there were a metric fuck ton of places to waste time and spend money. There were many restaurants, eateries, and yes: cafes. Many minutes passed and none I saw bore the name, and for a moment I considered she had asked me out to simply leave me wandering around like an idiot, an all too real possibility considering how fortunate this day was going for me thus far.

However, upon reaching a junction, I saw it. Gosh did I see it. It was a massive and prospering piece of real estate, with a seemingly unending line of mares and stallions coming in and out. I looked over myself and grimaced. Was I underdressed? For a cafe it looked highbrow, and in Canterlot if you didn’t show off your wealth in increasingly pedantic and over-the-top ways it was deserving of scrutiny from a particular crowd… I’m in way over my head aren’t I? After gulping, my eyes strayed from the outgoing crowd to the entrance, and I walked straight toward it; a slight shake in my steps.

Walking through the doors I was apparently misled, but this didn’t look fancy at all. Looking around, if I could surmise it in a single word, it would be ‘cosy’. The tables and chairs, of which there were many, were made of an unvarnished wood. Each table surface had across it a green cloth fell off the sides and ended several inches from the floor, and had what I guessed was sugar and milk in little containers on top. Oh, and coasters too. Who could forget coasters.

“Platinum! Platinum!” I heard a stranger’s name get called out, however the pony who called it out had a familiar voice. I turned in its general direction and I saw Blossom Bloom waving her hoof back and forth at me from a table near the back of the café. “Over here!”

Confused I wandered over, bypassing other patrons and servers on my way. She had taken a seat with her back to the rest of the café forcing me to sit on the adjacent side, my back against a wall. I dropped my saddle bag to the side, and gave her perplexed expression. “You didn’t forget my name did you?”

“Of course not, Silver,” she said insouciant, and I was left feeling even more confused.

“Then wh-”

“Hello,” greeted a mare with bangs, interrupting me mid-sentence, but her cheery disposition meant I didn’t even feel the slightest bit irritated. She sat on her haunches, pen and notepad in her hooves, ready to take our order. “What can I get for you two?”

“I’ll have a mocha with a spoonful of cherry jam, and two crumpets, if you would please. Platinum?” she ended by looking toward me, a smile on her face.

“Uh, I don’t know,” I replied, gripping the corner of my lip between my teeth. “How about you pick for me?”

“Ooh, fun,” her voice was silvery as she smiled toward the waitress, who smiled in kind. “Let’s see, hmm… how about a cappuccino and a slice of clafoutis with a dollop of cream on top.”

“Excellent choices. I’ll be right out with your orders in a minute,” the waitress finished taking our orders, slipping the notepad into the pocket on her apron and walking away with a bounce in her step.

“So what’s with the whole name thing?” I asked, following the waitress before resuming sights on Blossom, who still wore a smile.

“Trust me, you don’t want this place remembering your name. I’d have also done something about your face, but that can’t be helped,” she said with a smirk, and although I had a sneaking suspicion she was hiding something I didn’t probe any deeper.

“Oh-kay,” I replied, tapping the table twice with my hooves, sitting back in the chair. “So why this café? I mean, I saw dozens on the street walking here alone.”

She shrugged, smiling whimsically. “In all honestly I picked it at random. Although I did like seeing such a large gathering of ponies… it must be good coffee.”

“Hmm,” I nodded. I must admit, there is a certain allure about being inside such a packed place. So much coffee and sweet stuffs gave the building a simply delightful aroma, which even whilst coming in hit me with the speed of a galloping buffalo, but with the softness of a thousand cotton balls. I liked it here too I suppose, although the chances of me finding this place and going in by myself were nil to begin with. I like being pleasantly surprised. “I am excited to experience something new. Never had ‘cla-foo-tis’ before.”

“Who knows, maybe desert won’t be the only new thing you experience today,” Blossom spoke with a wry smile, and her eyes were for a moment half-lidded. Was she… no, psh. Don’t be ridiculous.

“Y-yeah. This is also my first time having cappuccino,” I was slightly flustered. In reaction she silently chuckled, holding a hoof to her mouth, and for a moment I was stunned.

“Here you go,” said the waitress, startling me slightly, prompting Blossom to grin, “we’ll collect payment after you’ve been completely satisfied.”

“Oh, I’m certain we will more than satisfied,” again there was a trace of innuendo in her words, but the waitress didn’t acknowledge it. Am I just being dirty minded? I admit, my mind is more often than not caked in mud, but there was something unmistakable in her voice. I’ve had many a lewd fantasy, and as pathetic as that is, I’ve emulated such a voice way too many times in my head to be unfamiliar with it…. But, again I could be wrong. More so than not. I’m just a dirty headed teenager… maybe grandma was right.

Feeling a tad down from my presumptiveness I looked at my plate and coffee. Glancing up I saw Blossom look at me expectantly, eyes flicking to my plate and back to me, still wearing the smile that never failed to me my heart skip merrily. The desert, admittedly, looked delicious. Picking up the spoon I cut off the tip, taking with it a tiny portion of the cream on top, which was slightly steaming from the warm pastry. I sniffed it, getting a distinct sweet smell I couldn’t place, regardless it made my mouth water. Upon insertion into my mouth I realised that every single choice I made today, regardless of how bad or selfish it was, was worth it now that I had this on my tongue. The fruits were packed so densely between the pastry that it felt like I had an entire cornucopia in my mouth, the menagerie of sweet tastes was truly decadent, and the warm sugared pastry added an entire layer of complexity to the whole affair. The cream, oh Celestia the cream, melted and lathering my tongue allowed all the flavours to run amok in my mouth… it was good.

“This is phenomenal, what did you say this was?” I asked, going for a second serving.

“Clafoutis. A dessert from Prance,” she replied, biting into one of her buttered crumpets, “this place certainly met and exceeded my expectations. Especially concerning the food at least.”

I licked my lips after a second bite, smacking my lips. “I didn’t have any. So imagine how blown away I am right now.”

She beamed. “I’m glad you like it. Honestly, being in Canterlot, I expected you to already be acquainted with it.”

“Well,” I shrugged, “I’m not exactly the most adventurous pony.” Which in retrospect is pretty fucking ironic for me to say.

“That’s not a bad thing, you know. Some ponies just prefer homely comforts, rather than the exotic,” she curled her lip, finishing her crumpet.

“I suppose. But speaking of home, what’s it like being the daughter of the principal?” I asked with slight curiosity, leaning forward slightly.

“I’d imagine that comes with a lot of perks,” I was halfway through my treat now, but I found conversation with Blossom far more appetising, as strange as that was.

“Hardly,” she scoffed, “it just means I don’t escape the school environment when I get home. It’s always ‘study now’, or ‘revise that’.”

“At least you’re doing great in classes, right?”

“Certainly. Top of my class, in every class. Ordinarily this wouldn’t be a problem, but I have with me one gift that is also unfortunately a hindrance,” she sighed, propping her head on one hoof, “I’m popular.”

“Oh?” I blurted out, scrunching up my face.

“Yes, yes, I know. Could a statement sound anymore pompous?” She asked rhetorically, and I didn’t know whether or not to answer. “Unfortunately being at the top means certain things are expected of me, not only by father, but by my peers as well.”

“And what expectations are those?”

“Well, obviously father wants the best for me, and to obviously be the best I can be. So I continuously get high grades, am constantly a subject of praise for all my teachers, and have already received several offers from prestigious universities,” she listed them off by waving her right hoof, and my eyes went to her left, “on the other hoof is my ‘peers’. They expect me to skip class, pick on younger students, and to be rebellious to authority – yes, my father – all for the sake of maintaining some purely in word only hierarchy, at which I unwillingly sit at the top of.”

“Do you actually do all those things?” I asked, growing slightly anxious of the ‘picking on younger students’ line.

“Yes, but believe me when I say they’re committed entirely in a manner which leaves them all unsuspecting,” she was trying to be reassuring, I could tell from her tone of voice, but I was still mystified.

“How?”

“Easy. Looking like I don’t give a damn about my education is rather simple. I ask my teachers to not disclose my grades, and in lieu of my classes I attend private tutoring lessons way out of sight. Bullying was tricky, but you’d be surprised at how easy anything is to do when you have a lot of bits and easy access to a young actors guild… they get paid more to cry.”

“Huh,” it sounded farfetched, but then again, it only sounded as plausible as me going out with the school’s most popular mare. “What about rebelling?”

“Well,” she paused, leaning forward and propping her head on her forehooves, “that’s where I hit a snag.”

“Huh?”

“It begun with simple things. Littering the school halls, back talking teachers - who I would promptly apologise to after the lesson ended - and a wide variety of other minor offences. But then… it escalated,” her hooves were shaking slightly, and I was looking at her more warily by the minute, “it became something of a rush to me. A tad fond of resisting law and authority. Trespassing, petty theft, even public urination.”

I was stunned. I think I may have gotten up and left if otherwise. “A-and you’re telling me this, why?”

“Tell me, have you ever grown to like something you shouldn’t?” she asked me, and I plunged into thought.

After a few minutes with my eyes averted, I looked back at her. “I don’t know.”

“Would you like to find out?” The smile on her lips faded, and uncharacteristic of her as I’ve seen so far, she simply looked at me blank faced.

I swallowed. I could still taste the sweetness on my tongue. “I…”

The smile returned to her face, and she sat back in her seat. She didn’t say anything, but instead picked up her mocha, bringing it to her lips. She sipped from the drink, and when she placed it back on the little plate, wiping away the foam moustache on her lip, she leant forward. “It’s severely lacking in cream.”

Oh fuck.

I was silently thanking all the princesses for this table cloth. Through the dripping eroticism in her words alone, she managed to stir me just right. Willpower alone couldn’t stop this. Blossom continued to look at me, a small toothless smile and half lidded eyes. Under the table I felt one of her hind hooves brush against my leg, the tip of her hoof trailed up my leg in a sensual slowness, tickling my skin. I was feckless in a situation like this, unsure of what to do I tried my best not to arouse suspicion. I kept my hooves on the table and my expression stoic, although I could feel my cheeks burn, and sweat gathering on my forehead as my cock hardened.

“We’re in public,” I said hushed, through gritted teeth, looking around in panic. This of course contrasted with Blossom, who wore a composed smile. “We could get caught.”

“I know,” she replied, and I could feel her hoof on my inner thigh, “isn’t it exciting?”

My cock had fully emerged from its sheath, but only half erect, slightly hanging downward under its own weight. Blossom brushed her hoof over my testicles, and she smirked when I gasped at the contact. Next I felt her wasting no time as she pressed her hoof at the base of my shaft, dragging the limb downward, her expression contorting from a smile into an expression of shock or surprise, before that too upturned into a large smile.

“You’re a big guy.”

"F-for you."

She grinned, leaning forward. “Come on, get harder for me. Get your cock hard in front of all these ponies,” she spoke in a sultry low, and my body couldn’t refuse her.

Her other hoof joined the first, the two of them gliding down the length of my meat as it rose higher, filling with blood. I had to seal my lips and grit my teeth in order to hold in the moans, somehow she was able to effectively stroke my shaft with an expected finesse, all the whilst holding a sultry smile. She was able to squeeze and apply pressure in all the right places, almost like she was milking my cock, all with her hind hooves. Her hooves, just short of my medial ring, would travel down my shaft almost in a spiral. And before she even brushed over my flare, eliciting a grunt from my throat, she would somehow be back at the base of my erection; repeating the motion again before I became aware of it.

I was near certain a mess was already being created below the table. I didn’t even need to look to know my pre had already begun to leak onto the floor. Now I know why she insisted I give a false name, I couldn’t be able to deal with my family getting forwarded the bill for this. My dick twitched between her hooves, and despite already cumming today my balls felt ready to burst. She increased the speed of her strokes, applying greater pressure as she passed over my medial ring and tip, and my breaths had quickened.

“I-I’m gon-”

She parted her hooves from my appendage, and I heard her hooves clop against the floor. My cock twitched, one of my throbs hit the underside of the table, creating a knock which prompted a restrained giggle from Blossom. “You’re adorable.”

“W-why’d you stop?” I asked, my voice nearly a whimper. I felt an overwhelming desire to

“You’d create a massive mess,” she said, grinning.

“Nuh-uh,” I shook my head, leaning on the table. Admittedly I was being pathetic - but then again what else is new - but I couldn’t stroke my cock half as good as she did, and she was using her hind hooves.

“Besides,” she started, leaning in close, voice turning to a whisper, “I recall my coffee being in dire need of cream.”

“...Oh,” I peeped.

“Now do me a favour and keep an eye out,” she slithered down her chair, going under the table hind hooves first; seemingly unnoticed by anyone else in the building.

At first it was like she simply vanished, no indication she was under the table at all. But I tensed up when I felt a warm breath on my sack, and a brush down my thigh. I wearily lifted the tablecloth, and I saw her twinkling amber eyes looking back up at me, half grinning at me. Slowly, she parted her lips, and allowed her tongue to fall out, and I could see the strands of saliva between her lips slightly glistening. I had to drop the cloth, pressing a hoof against my lips before biting down on it, the sight was near overwhelming in eroticism that I had to tear my eyes from it. My eyes looked over all the ponies in the cafe, and my heart began race faster. They all appeared unawares, talking between themselves, but I wonder how long that will last?

Suddenly, I felt a pair of lips press against one of my balls, planting a large kiss against the flesh. I curtly gasped, and I felt her cheek coddle against the base of my cock, before pressing her lips against the rock-hard meat. Again I felt her warm breath, which told me she had opened her maw, and this was confirmed when I felt a warm wet muscle against my cock. It was her tongue, and I was too overcome with the pleasure this simple contact brought to even freak out I was actually going to get my dick sucked.

I gulped when I felt her travel up my shaft, only with her tongue and lips touching my erection, I could feel a warm trail where her saliva was left behind as she made her way to my flare. She did however wrap a hoof around the rod, keeping my cock from throbbing from out of her tongue’s touch. When I felt her lips touch against my unflared tip, I curled on the table, pressing my muzzle against the table. I glanced up, and saw a few eyes on me. They were muttering something, and I grimaced. Had I been found out? Her tongue lapped against my tip, circling the flattened head with her tongue, interspersing with pecks and kisses. Other patrons looked at me with pursed lips and averted gazes, some with furrowed brows and shaking heads.

I saw the waitress with bangs come over to me, her expression neutral, although there was a tinge of something in her eyes I couldn’t make out. Maybe disgust? “Hey,” she spoke softly, her cheeks gaining dimples as she looked at me with a small smile.

“H-hi,” I stuttered, Blossom partially leaving my cock, her hooves still wrapped around it.

“It sucks doesn’t it?” She asked, slightly nodding.

“W-what?” I’d like to beg to differ actually, this is pretty fantastic.

“Where’d your lady friend go?” She asked.

“Uh,” I paused. I couldn’t very well say ‘beneath the table’, but I had to think fast. “She went to the bathroom. Yeah, bathroom.”

“Sir,” she began, her tone going piteous, “this establishment doesn’t have a bathroom.”

“O-oh,” I felt a quick snort of air on my cock, Blossom likely smirking.

“I know. You’re not the first colt in here to left on a date,” she started, her expression comforting, “but hey, you’re young. Plenty of fish in the sea, right?”

“Y-yeah,” I stuttered, Blossom lightly stroking my cock again.

“Don’t get sad now,” the waitress began, mistaking my stutter for a catch in my throat, “how about I get you another slice of clafoutis? On the house!”

“T-that’d be great. T-thank you.” She smiled warmly, happy to oblige…

Meanwhile, as the waitress departed, I could feel Blossom’s hooves shaking around my cock in what I can only assume was excitement. Now filled with a vigour I could physically feel in her movements, her tongue began to making quick slashes against my flare. Next I felt her press her lips against the tip, and I could feel her lips part from each other, and for the first time in my life I felt my cock pass through the lips of another pony. It like being enveloped in bliss, her lips formed a tight seal around my erection, her tongue lathering over my flare. I wanted to thrust forward, but I knew to do so would just make me fall from my seat. Additionally, I kind of wanted to pet her head or something. I couldn’t moan, and had no real way of letting her know of my satisfaction and pleasure… maybe I could send her a ‘thank you’ card later.

I heard quiet sounds beneath the table, her mouth taking in an inch of my cock, if her lips and my estimation of my size were to go by. I felt her teeth dig slightly into my rod, and despite how uncomfortable this felt, the moistness and lashing of her tongue made the feeling negligible. Another inch was swallowed by her, and I moaned into my hoof, hiding my face. She was sucking, her tongue applying pressure on the underside of my shaft, brushing the underside of my flare. Her hooves began to coax and squeeze, pressing halfway up the shaft and squeezing toward the tip, as if trying to milk me of my cum.

I tapped the surface of the table, swaying one of my hind hooves back and forth, a tightness forming in my abdomen; my shaft twitching in Blossom’s mouth. Unfortunately for her, my hips slightly rammed forward, hitting the back of her throat as my cock flared; pumping my seed down the back of her audibly gagging throat. I wanted no more than to apologise, but I was keeled over on the table, face likely contorted into an expression of ecstasy. I had to tighten my jaw shut, and my face spasmed as I tried not to give anything away.

“Aw, don’t cry,” the waitress startled me, “see, I’ve got your pie.”

“T-thanks,” I replied, still emptying cum into Blossom’s throat, on my forth volley.

She placed the plate in front of me, taking my empty one in her hoof. “Don’t worry. It gets better. Really,” she ended by punctuating with a genuinely kind smile, and I felt kind of bad it was really for nothing, but still… free pie.

As the waitress walked away, I felt a pressure alleviate from the end of my cock, a series of muffled coughs sounded from beneath the table. A few moments passed, and I saw her head peak out at me from her side of the table, gradually sliding back up into her seat. I gave a slightly embarrassed grin, the fur around her mouth was matted with my cum, and as she propped her hoof on the table I saw a streak of my batter going down the length of it. She didn’t say a word, bringing her coffee to her lips she swallowed, gulping back the entire cup before placing it back on the little plate with a sigh.

“That tasted horrendous.”

“What?” I exclaimed, hushed.

“It’s semen and coffee,” and she chuckled, “of course it’s bad.”

“I would feel insulted, if you hadn’t just, well, ya know.”

“Uh-hmph,” she hummed, nodding with a gleeful grin, “I’ve never done that before. It’s genuinely thrilling.”

“Yeah, well, I also got a second serving of pie,” I tried to match the enthusiasm in her voice, grabbing my spoon.

“Yes, well, we have to run,” she said simply, pilling her plates.

“What, why?” I asked, scrunching my brows.

“Well, you did cum… a lot,” she pursed her lips, and I went wide eyed.

Slowly I lifted up the tablecloth, and saw on the floor a pool of my semen. “ Wa- You didn’t swallow all of it!”

“There was so much! Quick, we have to leave before anyone notices,” she already pushed out her chair.

“Without paying?”

“Fine, leave some bits. But we have to leave. Now!” Despite how hectic she was, she was still grinning and shaking.

“Hey,” the waitress suddenly intruded, catching us both off guard, “you came back.”

Blossom Bloom, without saying a word, galloped away. The waitress arched her brow, and when she looked at me I picked up my saddle bag, leaving it on the table and pushing my chair out. “I was extremely satisfied, thank you. Bye!”

“Uh,” she said, myself already brushing past her with a toothy frown.

“Hey!” As I reached the exit, I heard her call out to me from the table, and I glanced over my shoulder whilst still making my escape. “You didn’t finish your pie!”

I was left panting, my legs threatened to give out from under me I was so fatigued. Blossom Bloom was sat on her haunches, back pressed against the wall laughing into the sky. I had followed her as she turned into an alleyway a few blocks away from the cafe, and aside from how nervous I felt from all the eyes and strange looks we both got, I found myself laughing too.

“That was fantastic!” She exclaimed, throwing hooves into the air before they fell limply to her sides as she sighed dreamily.

“I concur,” I said breathlessly, sitting adjacent to her in the small alley, sighing.

“How did it feel?”

“What?”

“You know, doing that in public.”

“Well, it felt great. You we amaz-”

“No, no. Not that,” she shook her head, “I meant how does your first act of exhibitionism feel?”

“Uh,” I paused, a little perturbed by how she stressed ‘first’, “scary, mostly. A bit embarrassing. It was risky, but I have to admit, pretty fun.”

“I’m glad you had a good time,” Blossom’s lips upturned into a toothless smile, laying back content.

“I do have to ask though,” I verbally prodded her, and she looked at me keenly.

“Yes?”

“Was this a date?”

“Depends,” she stated, her formerly toothless smile turning into a grin.

“On what?”

“Did you want it to be?”

Chapter 3: Cucumber And Rose

The breakfast table was empty aside from myself and Gem. As I sat there, eating a simple breakfast of jam on toast, my sister looked at me with an expression of inscrutable confusion. I tried my best to ignore it, but progressively she would shift on her seat, adopting one posture after the other. She craned her head, focusing on me with one eye, and then the other.

“What?” I snapped at her, wishing I was eating something that required utensils so I could slam them down.

“Why are you smiling?” She asked me, which didn’t make sense. I wasn’t smiling, was I?

“I am?” I replied, my hoof going up to my muzzle, and I felt that a corner of my lip was indeed pulled back. “Huh, I am.”

“And that’s what doesn’t make sense,” she said, voice aloof, “you’re supposed to me downtrodden, depressed, and on the verge of tears.”

“Oh, and why is that, dear sister?” I replied caustically, taking a chomp out of my toast.

“Because your smile suggests that your date went fine, if not more so,” she scrunched up her face, a pursed lip frown indicative of dubiety, “and I simply cannot believe that.”

“You really hold that little faith in me, your little brother?”

“I hold precisely none. So my surprise is self-explanatory,” she suddenly leant forward, her bronze bangs swaying from the sudden movement, furrowing her brows, “you didn’t do this just to spite me did you?”

“Bitch, please. As if you were the reason why I, the biggest and most alpha stallion this side of Canterlot, did awesome in his date,” I replied with mock pride… ok, maybe a little pride. However I spoke with exaggerated sway, throwing my hooves up to punctuate every word with a punch.

She sneered, wrinkling her nose. “Ok, now I’m disgusted again,” she fell from the chair to her hooves, frowning with abhorrence as she left the kitchen. With a triumph gleam in her direction, I bit again into my toast. The crunch was victory, the sweet jam was my joy, and the soft crust was… bah, fuck it I’ve got nothing. It’s Friday, and I love Friday.

“I’m telling you dude, Luna controls the stars, not Celestia.”

“Hey, numb-nuts, you’d know if you actually listened in class that every star is a sun. So ipso facto, Celestia’s property.”

“Yeah, but Princess of The Night isn’t a fucking honorary title, bucko. If her domain is the night sky, then everything within it is in her control.”

“…Did you just say ‘bucko’?”

“You’re ignoring just what I said, Lu-“

“Fucking ‘bucko’!?”

I went back to ignoring the general chitter-chatter of the cafeteria table I was sitting at and looked back down at my tray of assorted ‘culinary’ refuse. I don’t know Maple stomachs this crap to be honest. You’d think being in Canterlot would mean the food would be better. I could literally leave the school right now, walk two blocks away, and pick up a good pastry or sandwich from the local deli. I fail to see the point of these meals, other than to justify the hefty budget this place gets, so they can skim a little extra money to line their own coffers. I know they’re free to the students, but who are they for exactly? They’re generally unpalatable, and It’s fucking Canterlot. I’m pretty sure the poor pony who was in such dire straits to require these free meals would end up getting lynched by a mob of hoity-toity aristocrats or something for soiling the city with their dirty hooves, the filthy plebeians… I hate being left to think.

Soon after Maple finally took his seat across from me, his tray heavy as always. I frequently wondered if his fat was some kind of cloak for a muscular body beneath. As soon as he sunk his teeth into his food however, allowing his drink to dribble down the corner of his mouth and staining the collar of his uniform, that thought shrivelled up and died a painful death.

“What’s up with you?” He asked me, glancing up from his food.

“Huh?”

“You’re smiling, like, all strange and shit,” he spoke out the corner of his mouth, his mouth already half filled with food.

“I am?” Again I felt around my jaw, and smirked, “I am.”

“Well, cut it out. It’s… weird,” he spend a few seconds in thought before spitting out the last part of his sentence, although I suspect he was
actually just swallowing.

“I can’t help that I’m happy, Maple,” I shrugged.

“Yeah, but what about?”

“I can’t say,” I replied, smiling coyly.

“Aw, come on, you can’t pull this shit a second time. Seriously, you’re starting to pi-“

“Hey you two,” Blossom Bloom greeted, sitting next to the fat colt, interrupting him; much to my glee.

“Hi, Blossom, how are you?” I asked, smiling wryly.

“Great, and you?” She replied politely, her smile pulled back to reveal some teeth, a twinkle in her eye.

“The same,” I punctuated with a warm smile, and then I felt her hoof brush against mine under the table. There was those butterflies again.

“Uh,” Maple knitted his brows, looking between me and Blossom, “so what the heck is this?”

“Nothing,” Blossom replied, smirking at him and unpacking her lunch.

“Are you sure about that?” He asked, scrutinising her with a despondent look about him. “Because to me it loo-“

He was caught off guard all of a sudden, as was I, being rendered in a state of terrified limbo. Beige coat, cerulean mane, and when he glanced at me and I saw those stunning emerald eyes. “H-hey, Synary.”

“H-hi,” despite the moment of intimacy we shared he was still meek, although this was likely due to the inclusion of both Maple and Blossom in this circle. Regardless, he still managed to pull off a small smile, and his eyes looked at me with a real tenderness.

“What the he-“ began Maple, looking at the colt with a bemused expression. Although his ears picked up the few murmuring voices around us, looking at this odd circle of ponies with a fascination worth gossiping about. Suddenly, Maple appeared to adopt an all too friendly candour about him, extending his hoof. “Hi, I’m Maple, you’re Synary right? Awesome name by the way.”

“H-hi, Maple,” Synary appeared reluctant, his hoof twitched as it pressed against Maple’s, shaking. The other ponies went slightly wide eyed, the sound of their whispers going a decibel higher, but still indistinguishable.

“New colt, right?” Blossom spoke, and I felt a thousand knots in my stomach.

“U-uh, yeah,” Synary nodded, a small curl at the end of his lip. I would be biting my hooves if I was already frozen still.

“Well, nice to meet you finally. I’m Blossom, Blossom Bloom,” she introduced herself, extending a waiting hoof.

“Nice to meet you t-too, Blossom Bloom,” their hooves touched, and I clenched my jaw, looking between the two of them nervously.

“Please. Just call me Blossom,” her voice was kind-hearted, and I visibly saw Synary’s posture sag slightly, his breaths calmed a tad.

“O-okay, B-Blossom,” he replied with a small smile, and her grin and accompanying smirk when they parted hooves made the metaphorical anvil on my back lighten slightly.

As I sat there, a see through stare directed at the table, Maple’s overly loud voice in my ears. I pondered internally about the situation that I had only myself to blame for. To further remind me of my mistake, Blossom’s hoof was still against mine, meanwhile one of Synary’s fore hooves had fallen to his side, tentatively brushing against my haunch. Neither in a sexual manner, just the desire for bodily contact, which made the whole affair somehow worse. At least it’s Friday, right?

“Want to do something Saturday?” Blossom asked me as we walked the halls, the assorted ponies gliding past us on their way out.

“Sure,” I said, preoccupied with thought.

“Is something the matter?” She asked, looking at me with concern in her eyes. Great, I’m now a bugaboo. It is touching she’s already able to
sense something wrong with me, or perhaps I wasn’t being subtle, regardless I appreciated it.

“No, nothing at all. Just relieved the day’s over, I guess,” I offered an explanation, and felt a tightness in my chest. Great, lying already.

“Hmm, alright. But you can tell me anything, you know that right?” She reassured, and her words felt like red hot nails into my heart.

“Y-yeah… So what did you have in mind?” I asked, desperate for a change in topic.

“Oh, nothing special. Just hanging out at the mall, maybe get something to eat, some light shopping,” her words were honeyed, and I arched a brow.

Big open area, lots and lots of ponies, and she’s a self-confirmed junkie for deviancy. “Why do I get the feeling there’s a few more things you’re missing out from that list.”

“Oh, you mean window shopping and dress fittings?” She said with a smirk, glancing at with a simper.

“Alright, alright. Which mall and what time?”

“Summer Point High mall, and… two, yeah two in the afternoon seems good.”

“Summer Point? Fancy. Would I be underdressed if I came in nothing?” I asked, chuckling.

“Who cares, right?” She shrugged with a smile, and I couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

When we entered the last stretch of hallway, the exit within view, I saw beside it a familiar colt. His face was downcast, but I could see his eyes glancing up, obviously searching for somepony in the thicket of students walking past. I gulped, looking at Blossom’s content expression with the worry of a thousand soccer moms.

“So, see you tomorrow?” My voice tremulous, glancing between Blossom and Synary at the end of the hall.

“Don’t want to walk home together?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. It’s just I forgot my math textbook in my locker, and you remember how Miss Median is with homework.”

“Okay, I getcha. But remember. Summer Point, two o’clock, right?”

“Right, right,” I nodded several times, and she walked ahead, looking over her shoulder to deliver a final smile before disappearing into the other crowd of students.

I stayed my steps, allowing others to pass by to wait a while longer, just watching Synary as he searched. This is so fucked isn’t it? I shouldn’t be allowed to like them both, there should be some kind of mental block in my head. Blossom, or Synary. Oh, you picked one? Now the other is dead to you. But it isn’t as simple as that is it? It physically pained me to lie to Blossom, and it agonises me to see Synary looking for me. I trailed my way over, pushing through the sparser crowd, and when he landed his eyes upon me and smiled, my heart leapt in my chest.

“Silver,” he sounded pleased to see me, taking a step toward me as I emerged from the crowd.

“H-hey, Synary,” my voice was wobbly, but I wore a smile to hopefully alleviate any worry he may have had, “why are you just waiting here?”

“O-oh,” he paused, averting his eyes with a small blush on his face, “I wanted to see you.”

“Ah,” I stuttered, his delivery help solidified my staunch position was that he was simply precious, “you did?”

“Yeah, I don’t have a reason, I just w-wanted to see you,” Synary’s words oozed a kindness and care I was unfamiliar with; what was the opposite of contempt?

“Well it’s nice to see you too,” I replied, kind of envious I couldn’t come close to matching his kindness, but seeing him lighten up in response to that had my heart feel light; almost as if it was floating away.

“I-I was just wondering though,” he started, barely able to look at me, “if you have any plans tomorrow. B-but if you do that’s fine!”

“I do,” I replied, and felt ready to collapse.

“Oh, right,” he responded, visibly disheartened.

“T-there’s Sunday!” I exclaimed, and internally I began to lash at myself. I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t.

“Yes?” He smiled, hope rekindled, and whilst outside I smiled warmly, inside I was smacking myself in the head.

“So, do you want to, I don’t know… do something… together?”

“L-like a… date?”

Silver, listen. You’re dating Blossom. It was one date, but still. We shared something intimate, and he wants more. Heck, I want more. However, this is the wrong thing to do, completely wrong. I would be betraying both of their trusts if I do this… but, what was that yesterday I said about taking the initiative? I doesn’t have to move beyond this, just one experience together we can fondly remember. It will be under the guise of fostering greater relations, and further intimacy, but as long as I remain in control that won’t happen will it… will it?
“Yeah,” I replied, smile gracing my lips at the sight of his surprise, which came in the form of a slightly ajar mouth and wide eyes.
“R-really?” Normally I’d be equally surprised that anypony is expressing this level of surprise that I, a colt who only a few days ago was as insignificant as an ant in spring, was asking them out. But instead I was too overcome with a jovial warmth being bathed over me, his slight step forward to further decrease the gap between us, as well as his wide grin the cause of this. “Where?”

“Uh…” Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

The nice café was out of question, I don’t know enough about him to judge what he’d like, and when your grand total of dates ever amounts to one your knowledge of where they are best had is meagre at best. Think Silver, pick something that isn’t cliché or tacky, and actually requires effort, and will impress. My faith in my ability to judge by this point is strained, but as long as I have confidence, and hope in myself, my choice of locale should be commendable. I have conviction that I will make the right decision.

“No, no, no, no, no,” déjà vu aside, the hope I thought already depleted in myself hadn’t actually all evaporated yet, however when I got back home I had also lost that little trickle that remained. “A picnic at the park, what the fuck am I, twelve?!”

“Ah, self-berating again I see,” Gem announced her entrance with a chiding comment, sitting in father’s recliner.

“Yes, now if you don’t mind, I have much more of it to do,” I replied with a snap.

“I’m all ears,” she surprisingly offered, and this prompted from me a look of bemusement.

“Really?”

“As long as it involves your filly friend totally humiliate-“

“Yeah, yeah,” I interrupted, making my voice as bored as possible.

“Rude,” she chuckled, which sounded grating to my ears.

“You’re very predictable, Gem.”

“Ouch,” she replied with mock pain, grinning. “Well I can say you’re at the very least unpredictable. One moment your my sad sack of a brother with an erection over my copy of playmare, next you had a successful date, with a mare no less. And now you’re back home moping on the couch. So I have to admit, and you’ve forced this from me, but I’m a little curious.”

“Huh?” I sat back up on the couch, crossing my fore hooves.

“Yes?”

“I guess you’re a little surprising too,” I said bluntly, to which she gave a curled lip smile.

“So go on, tell me,” she sounded a little impatient, and I shrugged.

“I’ve got another date, but this time I picked where it’s at,” I explained, inching a bit closer to the other side of the couch to get closer to her.

“And?” She looked at me askew, confused as to what the problem was.

“And I chose,” taking a brief inhale, “the park.”

“That’s it?” She exclaimed, visibly disappointed. “It’s fine. Plus if your first date with this mare went well, this shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Yeah, but,” I paused, bracing, “it isn’t the same mare. Actually, it’s not a mare at all.”

Her stare was deadpan, and her eyes delivered with them the amount of ire I was expecting, but less than I hoped. Without a word she pushed herself from the recliner, and began to walk away. “You’ve managed to do it twice today. Bravo.”

“No, wait, please!” I pleaded, “I really need somepony to talk to about this.”

“Why not, Maple?” I paused, looking behind herself with a sneer.

“Because he’s not someone I can confide in, he’s not my sister.”

She paused her steps, sighing into the air. “Fine. But only the condition you tell me their names.”

“Uh…” I hesitated, and when she began taking steps away, I frantically began to speak, “wait, wait! Blossom and Synary.”

“Wait,” she stopped, turning around to face me with furrowed brows, her face that of intrigue. “Blossom, as in ‘Blossom Bloom’?”

“Y-yeah...”

“Oh-ho, this is so perfect,” she said with a scary amount of glee, jogging back to the recliner and hopping upon it with giddiness. “Ok, tell me everything.”

“W-wait, I have conditions too,” I spluttered out, still taken by surprise at her gusto.

“You’re asking for my help, remember?”

“Please?” I squeaked, and she rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” she said, rolling her head and crossing her hooves, “but embargo only.”

“What?”

“You know, a block. But only a temporary one. No matter the condition,” she explained with shrug, “I want to do as I please with this information.”

“What can you even use it for, you don’t even go my school anymore?”

“Yes, little brother,” she replied with condescension, “but you won’t believe what a titbit like ‘Blossom Bloom, daughter of the principal of Canterlot’s most prestigious school, also brother of Celestia’s chief accountant. Just so happens to be going out with my brother, who just also so happens to be a rampaging sodomite.’ Although depending on what I’m using it for, that last bit may be removed or added at my discretion.”

“That’s a bit sensationalist isn’t it? Also, I still fail to how it helps you in any way.”

“Well, that’s your fault for being naïve,” she pointed at me, which was somehow just as infuriating as being called naïve.

“Fine, fine, whatever,” I rolled my eyes.

“So, Synary… how’s he?”

“Kind, good looking, adorab-“

“Ok, already too weird,” she pulled a wry expression.

“But you asked me about him!” I lambasted, looking at her with confusion.

“Yeah, but hearing my brother talk about cute colts is one hoof over the line, which I will apologise for, I guess,” she pursed her lips into a frown. “How about blossom?”

“Well, she’s cute, kind, and adorable.”

“Isn’t that how you described, Synary?”

“Yes. They’re both, for lack of a better term, perfect in every way,” I pursed my lips and nodded slowly, letting it set in.

“Wow, I’m taken aback. I don’t think even I have been described as perfect. Not even by any of my exes I was in a relationship with…” she paused, looking off, “bastards.”

“So what should I do?”

“Ha, I don’t know!” She replied, shrugging and smiling with mock.

“What! I asked you for help and all you can offer is ‘I don’t know’?”

“In truth, if I was you, I would drop one of them to the curb to be honest.”

“But I don’t want to,” I said stubbornly, grumpy.
“That sounds to me like greed, brother mine.”

“I don’t want either to be hurt.”

“Oh,” she sounded oddly sombre, craning her neck to look at me in the eyes, “you actually care about those two?”

“Well,” I began, not even taking a second to think because I already knew the answer, “yeah. I do.”

“Shit, that’s heavy. I don’t think I can even help you with something like that.”

“You can! Just, please be somepony I can talk to about this. I hate just having it all balled up inside me like some kind of tonsil stone.”

“Ew.”

“I know right?”

There was a brief moment of silence, and I heard her sigh.

“Fine,” she relented, sitting back in her chair, “but you know grandpa would have beat you up for going out with two different ponies, right?”

Ah, Grandpa Roadie. He was ‘allegedly’ (he totally was.) a Nightmare Moon cultist who was illegally selling pony meat to griffons. He was likely the main reason for Mother’s ultra-conservatism, reverence of Luna, and her strange talent with accounting. Grandpa was locked up a few years back, but I think his last words before being mowed down with concussive magic bolts by the royal guard were clippity-cloppity, get off my property! Which I suppose were pretty good considering they would be the last he’d ever speak outside prison walls. Nice and memorable. I wonder what his brother Hayseed is up to these days… Wait, what the hell am I talking about, Gem just agreed to help me.

“Thanks, Gem,” I sounded genuinely happy, and I felt an emotion rise in my heart that I had to let out. “I love ya, sis.”

She looked at me with disgust, and I grimaced, and she pushed from her recliner with haste.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” I got off the couch, giving chase, “No, wait, Gem come back! I didn’t mean it! I hate you, I hate you so much! Sorry, sorry, sorry…”

Summer Point High Mall was, well, nice, to put it simply. One would be surprised by the fact that, despite its size, it wasn’t that discernable from the rest of Canterlot. It was massive, walls of smooth cut white brick, a roof of gold slate. Although this being Canterlot, the likely owner of this conglomerate was incomprehensibly rich, the roof may have been actual gold. But I don’t have necessary equipment nor bravery to scale the structure and find out for myself.

I entered the mall, the inside even more boisterous and loud than the cafeteria hall at school. Hundreds of mares and stallions going about, in and out of the smorgasbord of shops, the sheer amount of which was almost dizzying to my stallion mind. Clothing, chocolate, donuts, art supplies, jewellery, toys, and a variety of others going off beyond the reach of my sight. A fountain was positioned between the two sets of stairs, the huge ornate structure was made entirely of smooth marble, and even the waters that cascaded down the spire in the middle looked expensive. Maybe it’d be worth bottling up…

Beside the fountain sitting on her haunches I saw Blossom Bloom, who had already lain her eyes upon me and sported a mirthful grin on her face. “Silver!” She called, her voice resonating off the walls of the spacious building.

I hastened my steps, clopping hooves against the floor. Apparently the architect loved marble, the sunlight from the glass ceiling nearly bright enough to be irritating to the eyes. “Hey, Blossom. How are you?”

“Good now that you’re here,” Blossom said foxily, and I couldn’t help but grin.

“Oh, stop. You’ll make me blush,” I jested, smirking.

“I believe already did a good job of that time we had a date,” she quipped, and I felt my cheeks burn at the memory.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked, changing topic, nervously spluttering a few chuckles.

“Well, whilst nothing can top going under the table,” she smirked, likely at my averted gaze and red cheeks, “I was thinking we could just… walk and talk.”

“Huh?” I arched my brow, half smiling, “I’d like that very much.”

She nodded, and lead the way at a leisurely pace, and I walked beside her with a hoof width of distance between us, and was caught by surprise when she closed the gap; pressing her body against mine, her warmth an idyllic feeling that’s hard to describe. I was pleasantly surprised by this public display of affection, especially considering the chances of running into a familiar face from school in such a place, but by the quaint smile and contented expression I’m guessing she didn’t care.

We talked, which surprised the heck out of me, as I found myself not short of things to say. I even made her laugh, and each of those moments the entire mall seemed to fade out as she took a breath, almost as if I was subconsciously blocking out all other distractions just to hear every sound she made. Even her hoof steps sounded louder than my own, and I was a colt. Whenever the light from above shone over her, her emerald eyes seemed to sparkle like light off a lake… Celestia, I’m so gay, which is ironic all things considered.

Coincidently we passed by a card store, and Blossom stopped to look at the cards on display, and giggled to herself at that the selection. “You’re my macaroni and I’m your cheese?”

“Look at that one! A jigsaw piece, and you complete me written above it,” I joined in, poking fun at the cheesy card covers.

“These are terrible,” she laughed, sighing as she took a step away from the glass.

“What would you write on your card?” I asked, looking at with a curious expression.

She laughed politely. “How about, ‘I’ll be your barn, if you be my cow?’”

“No,” I chuckled, moving from the window, “what would you write inside?”

“Hmm,” she curled her lip, glancing up in thought before shaking her head, “I don’t know. I’m not great of thinking of things like that. How about you?”

“I-I don’t know,” I stuttered, and this appeared to visibly arouse her suspicion.

“You wouldn’t have asked me if you didn’t already have some ready to say,” she said, inching across the floor eagerly, “go on, I know you have some.”

“Umm, I like your mane like that, the way it flows down the back of your neck. L-like a red river of silk, or something. I don’t know…” I was bashful, chewing the inside of my cheek, but she inched forward.

“Yeah?” She encouraged, her smile was toothy, and I felt required to oblige.

“Your eyes twinkle in the sunlight, like rays off the ocean. And like the sea, I could happily drown in it, because looking into your eyes before I die would leave me content.”

“Yeah…” she said this time softer, her eyes matching the tone of her voice.

“A-and when I feel your warmth it feels like I’m at home, no longer afraid or uncertain of anything. Heaven and home is wherever you are. Each breath you exhale is like a tiny little gift for me, and your smile is brighter than even the sun, an-“
I suddenly found myself interrupted by being strangled, but it was a strangulation I was happy to be receiving. Blossom Bloom filling the gap between us with herself and wrapping her hooves around my neck in a tight embrace, her muzzle in the nape of my neck. “I like you.”

“M-me too… w-wait, I mean I like you too, not that I like my-“

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

This was nice. I don’t think I’ve hugged anypony like this before. I rested my head on top of hers, and wrapped a hoof my own around her neck, keeping one down as it would have led to us smacking head first into the floor. Which would have undoubtedly ruined this moment, or made it more memorable, who knows.

She was the first to part from the hug (because of course she did), and looked at me with furrowed brows and a small smile. “I want you.”

“T-thank you,” my voice wobbled, and she smirked, the look adoration on her face wiped away with a large smile.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing one of my hooves and tugging, “let’s skip to the end.”

I followed her, her strides large and quick. Finally my gym classes weren’t in vain as I was able to keep up with her with nary a lost breath, occasional glances from other ponies kept my vision from straying too far off Blossom, whose position in front gave me an excellent view of her plot, which helped ferry me along somewhat.

After several minutes of frantic trailing, she suddenly came to a halt, lightly panting as she turned to face me. “Ta-da.”

“A… dress shop?” I asked, taking in my new surroundings.

“A boutique!” She corrected.

“And why are we at a boutique?” I asked, looking at the fancy storefront. The paint was lilac, the large glass window polished to perfection, behind there was a couple of mannequins with expensive looking clothing on them.

“Trust me, this is the intended destination,” she explained, and I looked at her askew.

“If you wanted me to buy you a pretty dress, I’m sorry but I was forced to leave all my bits in the café,” I said half joking half worried. Would she bolt if I can’t buy her a dress?

“Don’t be silly, “ she chided, walking past me, “who goes to a boutique for the dresses?”

I followed her, and needless to say I was thoroughly confused. Why would this be the grand finale of this date? “So… why are we here?”

“You’ll see… and feel… and taste,” she paused before pushing on the door, a little jingling bell ringing both sounding the opening to the door and signal my pathetic arousal at the delivery of those words.

“Now this fabric simply cannot do!”

“Listen ma’am, it’s all we have.”

“I asked clearly for blanc ivoire, not blanc comme neige!”

“I don’t know what to say ma’am. You asked for white Prench velvet, I gave you white Prench velvet.”

“I’ve been scouring Canterlot all day for this fabric, and I sent out a mailing list with a request for those specific requirements, and your store replied. Yet when I get here, I get hooved the wrong fabric. This is simply unacceptable!”

At the counter there was a very out of place stout green unicorn stallion with a yellow mane, and across from him with a tired and irked expression was a white unicorn mare with a stylised lavender mane. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her.

“Yes?” The stallion looked relieved, glancing at the duo of Blossom and I with haggard eyes. “Can I help you?”

“Why yes,” Blossom’s voice underwent a strange change, sounding metres more sophisticated than I was familiar with, prompting my knitted brow stare. “However, I see you’re currently occupied. Perhaps me and my friend here could wait until you’re finished?”

“I suppose so,” he sighed, the mare looking a tad offended at his resignation but didn’t speak up about it, “just wait by one of the fitting rooms, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“Thank you,” Blossom stopped to nod, “when you’re free to help that would be most capital.”

“Now, about that fabric…” the unicorn mare butted in, and I couldn’t help but feel a modicum of sympathy for the shopkeeper.

Without a word I followed Blossom. Whilst another pony would be captured by the intricate dresses on display, or the hundreds of spools of fabrics, which even from a distance looked as soft as… well, silk and velvet. Which they probably were. I instead fine my eyes glued to Blossom. I didn’t know if I was looking at her because I was behind her, so her plot was forcibly shoved in my face in the densely packed shop, or because I simply want to lay my eyes on her. Compared to the masterpieces of the shop, their beauty held no candle to he- dammit, I’m doing it again. I should have written these down, maybe I could’ve recycled them into love letter or something. Songs of the heart, or something like that. She’d dig it, maybe. I do have a day before I meet Synary, maybe I could put something like that together for him… nah, that’d be too weird. We’ve had a grand total of four conversations, maybe such a thing would render him catatonic.

“Here we are,” announced Blossom, stopping before a moderately sized wooden door towards the store’s back. On a gold plaque was written in large black elegant font were the words: fitting room.

“So…” I teetered off.

She signed, a little chuckle at the back of her throat. “Come on, Silver,” she pushed the door open and I followed, closing it behind myself.

“Wow… spacious,” I observed, a comment I immediately realised was dumb and cringed. The dressing room obviously looked the part of one, a large mirror against the back wall reflecting both me and Blossom’s faces right back at us, prompting me to grimace knowing she most likely saw my face convulse with self-loathing.

“Yes, a lot more than I had to work with than the café,” she said, turning and taking a few steps back.

Public, chance of discovery, definitely breaking some kind of law… yes, all of those are checked.

“O-oh…” I looked toward the mirror, and saw as she flicked her tail giving me a brief, albeit wonderful, view of her cu- puss- vagi- flower!

“Looks to me someone already got the hint,” she wittily remarked, and I looked under myself, my cock the equivalent of a hair trigger apparently at the sight of anything worth penetrating… aside from mouths, could you imagine?

“Y-yeah, he’s a little eager and impatient. Not like I, a gentlecolt,” I ended with a grin, much to her amusement.

“Okay, Mr Silver esquire, perhaps you return the lady a favour?” her grin had already turned lustful in nature, or maybe I was misinterpreting, but I doubt it.

“And what would that be, m’lady?” I put on a fruity voice.

“Eat me out of course,” she said such an indifference that it physically made me wheeze in surprise, catching a gasp in the back of my throat mid gulp.

“Uh, ho-, wh-, um…” I swallowed, my face burning up.

“What’s the matter?” She asked, coming closer, a sultry smile on her lips.

“I, uh, get that the cup holds liquid, I just don’t know what to put in it.”

“What?” What?

“I don’t know, you know… how to go about it, is what I’m saying,” I spluttered nervously.

“Neither did I,” she shrugged, and my jaw was left ajar.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, ‘just lick and such’ is pretty much all I went on,” she put blunt, and I found my pursing my lips and nodding in agreement.

“Huh. If I can make you feel half as good as you made me, from that advice anyway, then I’ll be happy,” I was actually a little excited, my words overlapping slightly. “But, how long will we have?”

“Less and less time the longer we keep talking,” she too wanted haste, which I was all to fine with actually.

“Okay,” I began, nodding with a smile, before slowing to a unsure stare. “Could you, you know, get… ready?”

“O-oh, yeah, but of course!” There was a momentary catch in her throat, and for the first time I think, she displayed a hint of shyness.
Regardless, I felt a frenzy of emotion in my stomach, buzzing flies of excitement, eagerness, reluctance and fear all moving around and writhing out one another like worms in a freshly dug pit. She moved back against the mirror, sitting on the floor, pressing her back against it. I remained frozen as she parted her legs, her tail like a red carpet to the star between her legs, that is, the precious pair of puffy crimson lips with a slit of light pink between. I had never seen one, at least other than in the contents of a magazine or sex-ed in class. But despite this, I was utterly fascinated, and I fluttered toward it, like a wee moth to a large flickering flame.

I walked into a crawl, and crawled into a prowl, alighting my eyes with the little pink slit between her legs. My barrel brushed against the carpet, my hind hooves raised to push myself forward and so that the carpet wouldn’t irritate my erection. Blossom fidgeted, her hooves moving from eagerness or agitation, her expression stoic; bits of excitement came through however, her lip being held between her teeth. When my face was close enough to feel the warmth of her treasure against my face, I looked at it with widened eyes, peering over with complete fascination.

“C-can I…?” I said, glancing up at her, my voice quiet.

“Sure,” she replied, her legs spreading even wider, and her voice was just as muted as mine.
This moment as of now is the most intimate one we’ve had, and even though the risk of being caught is ever present at the back of my head, I wanted to savour it. The tip of my hoof brushed against one of her plump lips, and she inhaled sharply through her teeth, but I wasn’t naïve enough to mistake it for pain. I pressed into the soft warm flesh, surprised by how delicate it felt, especially when contrasted to my own cock – hard and admittedly unsuited for display – but her flower wouldn’t look out of place in a gallery, and knowing Blossom as much as I do, I suspect she’d rather like that. My second hoof joined the first in prodding her femininity, my eyes glancing up to see her eyes were closed, reddened cheeks and just simply basking I imagine the pleasantry. Curious, I carefully pulled at each lip, parting them to reveal the pink insides of her marehood. The pink petals surrounded a canal, and from it I was assaulted by an aroma that immediately prompted a strong response from my cock, in the form of a stomach smacking twitch which I’m sure already brought forth a bead of precum from the tip.

“Whoa,” I blurted, and Blossom opened her eyes to look down at me.

“Like what you see?”
“Y-yeah…” I teetered off, enamoured with the sight of it, “do you think you could…”

“What?”

“Y-you know…” I answered, bashful.

“I’m not a savage, Silver. You already know I want it.”

“P-please?” I asked mildly, and she rolled her eyes.

“Fine.”

Just then, right before my very eyes, her clitoris became exposed; disappeared and remerged several times from its place. The sight of her winking clit both aroused me, and puzzled me.

“That’s so weird looking.”

“Hey!” She exclaimed, prompting me to look up in alarm.

“Sorry, sorry. If it helps, it looks outstandingly hot.”

“Outstanding?”

“Outstanding!” I punctuating with a nod and serious expression, summoning from her throat a giggle.

Seeing as I already became familiar with four of my five senses regarding her honeypot, I wanted to waste no further time getting familiar intimately with the final unexplored sense: taste. My tongue darted from my muzzle, pressing against her warm twat with my moist tongue, eliciting from her for the first time a pleasured squeal. I dragged my tongue up and down the length of her slit in an exploratory feel, the taste was mixing of contrasts, managing to be sweet and bitter. A taste which reminded me quite a lot of cherries, which fortunately for both me and her… I like cherries.

I dragged my tongue in messy licks, plastering my muzzle with her juices, her folds were apparently sensitive given how frequently she released moans. Although that may have been her by this point obvious exhibitionist kink, which lead me to believe she could have been louder, if she didn’t want the pleasure to stop that is. Next I tried exploring her internally, my tongue unaided by my eyes swirled downward pressing into her soft pinkness, looking for the elusive hole. I felt a moment of triumph when tongue gave way to be embedded inside a warm and tight corridor, which too was marked by a particularly fired moan from Blossom, as well as the sight of her winking clit right before my eyes.

I swirled my tongue in her elastic tunnel, her hole tightened around my wet muscle. I pushed against her walls, the tip of my tongue nudging against the tightly constricting walls, and I could only imagine the ecstasy this would bring for my meat should it get the chance to experience it. When I unburied my tongue from her hole, the taste of her most assuredly on my lips for the foreseeable future, she released
a small whimper.

“Come up here,” she demanded, which I assumed by the soaking wetness of her cunt and the clenching of her jaw, was a demand I shouldn’t ignore.

I crawled up her frame, my body pressing into hers as I did so, my twitching erection came mournfully close to her cunt, so close in fact I could feel its warmness on the underside of my cock. When I came up to her level, looking her eye to eye, I awaited patiently for her to speak; the tip of my shaft pressing into her stomach.

“D-do you want me to kiss you?”

“No. Not yet,” she whispered, a delicate blush on her cheeks.

“Why not?” I asked tentatively.

“Not this moment, I want to save it,”

“For somepony else?” I asked, a tinge of sadness in my voice.

“No, no, no. You’re who I want it to be with, but I want it to be special. Not in the backroom of some shop, a real moment to remember,” she spoke with a unheard tenderness, stroking my cheek and looking me in the eyes with a small smile.

“When?”

“When,” she spoke low, bring my head into her chest and my ear to her lips, “you’re buried to the hilt in my tight cunt, and we’re screaming in ecstasy with one another. That’s when.”

“O-oh,” I was taken aback, and was surprised that by this point I could still blush. I pulled out of her grip, and upon looking down I saw that a certain someone was also appealed by that idea, crying out his only eye onto her stomach; a sticky clear liquid matting to her fur. “I-I think I’m ready for that now, actually.”

“No, you never have sex until the third date,” she was resolute, and I was just confused.

“What? I mean, considering what happened last time and now, it seems kind of contradi-”
I suddenly felt a pair of hind hooves wrap themselves around my lower body, and the base of my shaft was suddenly pressed against a moist softness. “What if I just want to make when we do, do it more special?”

“O-okay,” I my hooves shake, my cock was literally pressing against her tunnel, the moist lips already feeling like heaven to my shaft.

“Now we’re gonna do something else, okay?”

“Yeah okay,” I squeaked, my shaft lightly pushing against her stomach, by body barely able to control itself.
Without another word, she began to slide downward, until she was beneath me. I looked down at her, to see my cock just ending at the underside of her chest. I felt her tighten her hind hooves around me, sandwiching my meat between the two of us, and I saw her lick her lips.

“Ok, so what you’re going to do is grind.”

“Just move back and forth?”

“Align your ring thing with my clit, can you do that?”

“S-sure,” I complied, her grip loosening to allow me to shimmy down, biting my lower lip when my medial ring pressed against her snatch; her clit winking on the underside of it, her eagerness evident as well.

“Just… gyrate.”

I followed her instruction, spreading my hind hooves, I ground my hips into her, my hard cock and sensitive ring finding the simple act pleasurable. As did Blossom, who released curt exhales through her open maw, her eyes closed and head back. It was like a softer warmer tongue was delivering little slashes against my cock, her winking clit prodding into my shaft was also a different kind of magic sensation, the room now filling with my unmuted groans.

As time passed I applied more pressure, my gyrations becoming more alike thrusts, sliding back and forth over her sensitive nub with a lustful energy; her pot so moist with juices that the action was audible, with every slight raise and press of my hips, was with it a smack of wet flesh. She too tried different tricks, wrapping around me more tightly, her hips occasionally bucking back against my own. If I couldn’t kiss her, I’d try something else. I lowered my lips to her neck, sucking at the nape of her neck.

“A love bite? How romantic,” she wrapped her forehooves around my neck, smirking.

“S-shut up.”

The next minute the room was just filled with intermittent moans and groans. Back and forth our hips grinded against one another, the smell of her sex and my sweat conjoining into a lusty cocktail. To my surprise she dragged her tongue up my neck, a move I surmise driven only I imagine my a moment of lecherous want.

“Cum.”

“W-what?”

“Please, I’m so close just do it,” dare I say she begged, her clit rapidly winking under my shaft.

She tightened her grip around me like a vice, and her cunt began to slide up and down my shaft in tandem with my thrusts, slicking my meat with her love sap. Her vaginal strokes were rapid, and I nearly buckled under the sudden barrage of pleasure on my cock, which throbbed between our bodies. Blossom’s moans increased in volume, and I bit my lip to suppress mine, a familiar tightness forming in my abdomen and sack.

Without warning I bucked, my cock flaring as seed poured forth from the tip, crushed between our bodies it just kind of pooled into our fur. I felt Blossom’s clit wink quickly, before gradually slowing down, no doubt had she leaked all over the carpet. We pressed into each other’s napes, panting into the other’s coat. After a while she pulled away, and looked between our bodies, smirking.

“Now that looked weird.”

“Hey,” I exclaimed, mock offence, grinning slyly as an idea popped into my head.

I travelled down, earning her attention and arched brow. “What are you doing?”

“Pffft!” A flatulent sound that was followed by her laughs, as I blew a raspberry into her cunt.

“Ha-ha, stop it, stop it!” She half laughed, half begged, kicking her hooves.

Suddenly, leaving us both frozen, eyes widened, the door clicked open. “Sorry for the wa- Ah…”

The stallion, displaying a surprising amount of stoicism, simply looked at us from the door. I wore a weak smile, and his expression didn’t waver.

“Whatever is the matter darling,” the white unicorn mare’s voice sounded, her head coming into frame of vision, looking into the room. She at first looked surprised, eyes wide and mouth slack, but then adopted a humoured expression. “At least chivalry hasn’t yet died.”

“That was embarrassing.”

“That was hilarious!”

Me and Blossom walked beside each other, just outside the mall, long after leaving the shop. For the second time in only two days we left a place packed with ponies, and she had some congealed semen on her. Although I too wasn’t without stain, my muzzle plastered with a juice which if I was fortunate enough, other ponies would mistake only for soda or some other sticky liquid. Additionally, something we both shared, was cum on the underside of our bodies. Showers were a must.

“Hey, look at that,” she said, suddenly veering off. I followed as she stopped before a poster of some kind. “’Filthy sodomite in need of good punishing and riding. Stallions need not apply. Wow, I do not feel sorry for the desperate stallion who put this up. Also, too much info with that poster, friend.”

“Let me see,” she shuffled over for me, and I looked over with a fascinated smile. On brown paper there was a crude sketch of a stallion, below it personal details obviously exaggerated for self-garnishment. My smile widened, the bizarre singles ad was hilarious to me, there was even a telephone number at the bottom, as if it wasn’t red flaggish enough. However when I looked over the numbers my expression became more confused as familiarity washed over me, and then like rubbing a mare’s flank unsolicited – it hit me.

“Mother!” I yelled with the rage of a million hungry Maples, my mouth stuffed with the poster I had torn from the mall wall. I had convinced Blossom it was a souvenir, but it turned out to be pointless, as I saw many others plastered around the city. I stomped into the home peering for any sight of her, before making my destination the living room.

My traipsing steps were loud, likely because I was taking my anger out on the poor undeserving floor, although it was lessened somewhat as it just sounded like a fat colt’s clops. Snaking through the halls and barging into the living room, Mother was sat with visible agog by the rotary phone, Twinkle sat on the opposing side with the same indifference I had come familiar with.

I spat out my mouth the poster onto the carpet, earning a wide eyed look of confusion from Mother. “What is this?!”

“That my dear, is my understanding of why you didn’t want to accept the services of darling Twinkle,” she said with audible pride, a smug expression on her face.

“And pray tell, why didn’t I want to take a prostitute into my bed? No offence, Twinkle.”

“Meh,” Twinkle replied, monotone. Although her expression was no longer blank, her brow arched and her eyes slits.

“Your pride of course,” Mother stated as a matter of fact, and I looked at her with open mouth bemusement.

“What!”

“You didn’t want the easy solution to the conundrum of your sexuality. I have long since realised that your brief skirting with the same sex is nothing more than an issue of self-confidence. You don’t think mares are attracted to you, neither do you want the easy route to confirming your true self. Thus, I concocted this genius idea. So be rest assured, dear, these posters will have all the mares clamouring for you like seagulls to a box of hayfries!” Her voice was triumphant, and I just looked at her flabbergasted. How is it possible for anyone to askew events to this degree? This truly is art, as her line of thinking would surely create a picture so incoherent that many a critic would call it ‘art’, as I’m sure it would fit the parameters.

“He’s already done something with a mare,” Twinkle suddenly spoke, her voice still monotone.

“W-what?” My voice quivered, looking at her with a mixture of horror and surprise. Mother has a maid-prostitute with the acute senses to
sniff marecum, truly a living marvel.

“Are you sure, Twinkle?” Mother sounded elated, leaning toward her with eager expectation.

“I can smell it,” she stated simply, shrugging.

“My baby colt isn’t a stallion lover after all!” Mother cheered, bolting from the couch faster than I’ve ever seen her move, swooping me up into a tight hug. “I’m so proud!”

“R-right…” I acquiesced. At least she was happy… right? Maybe it would be best if I didn’t say anything about Synary.

“Twinkle, go take down all the posters, my son is straight!”

“All five hundred?”

“Yes! Now chop-chop.”

“Okay,” Twinkle, for the first time, sighed. I wonder how much Mother is paying her exactly…

I managed to persuade Mother to not hold a celebration, arguing from a ‘humble’ angle, which is absurd as I have no pride to begin with. I sat resigned on my bed, thinking over the packed day I just had with a conflicted hue. It had been on my mind leaving the room with Mother, it had remained still during my shower, and continued to stay with me on my bed. Blossom remains wonderful, Synary still brings a smile to face at the thought of him, and I had to pick between the two.

“Silver?” I saw my Father peeking through the door, “Ah, good. You’re not masturbating like your Mother believed.”

“Ugh,” I grimaced as he walked inside, “what do you want, Dad?”

“Nothing really,” he said… whilst sitting on my bed, expression neutral.

“Father…” I stressed, and he looked sideways at me.

“Alright,” he said like a annoyed, well, teen. “You didn’t have sex with that mare just to please your Mother did you?”

“Father… take a step back and think about what you just said.”

“Son,” he took a more relaxed posture, looking me in the eye, “I just want you to be sure of who you are, that’s my concern.”

Wait a second. Is he trying to tell me something? Wait, it all makes sense now! The magazines, his steadfast acceptance of my coltcuddlery, and his happiness over his reveries. “Dad… are you gay?”

“Haha, heavens no!” He wiped a tear from his eye, laughing, and I looked at him bewilderment.

“Then why do you keep all that… stuff?”

“They’re memories aren’t they? A reminder of who I was. For a long time I thought I was somepony else. Admittedly it was a happy time in my life. But the moment I laid my eyes on your mother, and I knew I destined to be her husband. Whilst the past was great, my time with your mother surpassed the best days of those times. That stuff is just a reminder, kind of like a photograph or a diary. You don’t want to forget the good times just because you’re somepony else now. Memories make the pony, and they should be treasured.”

“Wow dad, that was… oddly profound,” I congratulated with knitted brows, finding his particular ‘photos’ of the past a little unorthodox, but whatever works I guess.

“I have my moments,” he said, chuffed.

“Well, thanks, I guess. That actually kind of helped, in a way.”

“With what?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

“I could go in-depth if you’d like. I’ve got a lot of memories on hoof I can sha-“

“Nope, nope. It’s fine, really,” I said, trying to stop this train of thought before it left the station.

“Well if you say so…” he said, resigned, and just a tad disappointed.

Sunday... Well, it was living up to its name. The pegasi had cleared the skies for some reason, allowing Celestia’s light to bathe over the park like a light syrup spread across toast… that’s a good breakfast. I had spent all night yesterday toiling over what to do today, because it occurred to me that I was woefully unprepared. I’m sure Blossom had packed in many things to do on our date, it was only via circumstance we skipped to the end. Despite how many hours into the night I planned, I only summoned a single plan: a picnic. I then realised this was a part of my original plan and through a combination of fatigue and ire I fell asleep at my desk.

It was now mid-afternoon and I had trekked to the fountain not too deep into the park proper, my saddle bag warped outwards with food stuffs and a chequered blanket. The fountain was more intricate than the simple spire I had observed at the mall, featuring a trio of ponies from each tribe spouting out water from their mouths, whilst an alicorn with unfurled wings an uniquely long horn stood in the middle. The splashing of the water felt nice against my coat, and helped cool me somewhat under the strong heat of the sun. I kept a wary eye out for Synary, whom with his striking ocean blue mane and off-white coat was an easy pony to pick off from a distance.

To my pleasant surprise he arrived only shortly after I, and despite the casualness of the setting and the relaxed nature of the event he still carried with him the full burden of his shyness, his steps looking deliberately slow as if he was being extra careful with every placement of his hoof. He did though pick up a little at seeing me, his normally reserved expression perking up into a smile. I would have thought by this point I’d be so used to it that I would be unaffected by it, yet the sight still created little sparks on my gut, and my heart to skip twice.

“H-hello,” he greeted, stopping a couple of metres from me, something which appeared conscious on his part.

“Good afternoon, Synary,” only after it left my mouth did I realise how formal that sounded, and I wanted to grimace. “How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you,” he said, his voice still very soft to the ears. He still wore that smile, and he was suddenly made aware of this himself, bringing a hoof up to cover his lip. “S-sorry, I can’t stop smiling.”

“Hey, there's nothing wrong with that. I like seeing you smile.”

“You do?”

“Y-yeah…” my response elicited from him his largest smile yet, which whilst on my face would be only a gleeful beam, on him it was paramount to me of a thousand smiling faces it looked so happy.

“Thank you,” his quiet voice sounded elated and relieved, and for a moment I saw his body relax.

“S-shall we get going?” I asked, anything to stop me staring dumbly at the smiling colt.

“Yes. I would like that.”

And so we began our the pilgrimage that was our first date. We walked at a slow pace, mainly due to the fact that when I started our walk he lagged behind, following me, so I slowed down so that we walked abreast; maintaining the speed since we had no real direction in mind, just enjoying each other’s presence and the warm sun. He was an infrequent speaker, and I found myself on multiple occasion breaking the ice, but thankfully for me he seemed unreceptive to my bad jokes; enjoying mostly listening to me ramble about myself. The few scraps of information he offered about himself were tasty morsels. His cutie mark apparently earned because he was really adept at saving money, and when I asked about the story of how he got it, he offered only ‘it really helped’. After three quarters of an hour I became intensely curious about something. A part of me realised I like colts very much the same way I liked mares, but for others learning they hold a liking towards the same sex and not the opposite is apparently a life changing revelation, and I had so ask.

“When did you realise you were, well, to put it bluntly: gay?” I asked, and he looked at me with a wide eyed glance and a blush before averting his eyes.

“Well, in truth, it was during that day.”

“You mean me, in the shower, that day?”

“Yes,” he nodded, now barely looking at me at all, “I don’t know what it was, but before then I never even thought about colts that way…”

“W-well, maybe you just never saw something that really made you know for sure.”

“Or maybe it was just you…” he looked me in the eye as he said that in a surge of directness, that immediately crumbled and he averted his eyes again, blushing furiously red.

Exhaling sharply through the nose, I felt the need to return this comment with a moment of affection. Remembering yesterday, I closed the gap between our bodies, and he squeaked but remained unusually steadfast in his standing, not retreated from me as I expected. Instead he continued to walk astride beside me, only now the fond connection of our bodies was present. I meanwhile was feeling a upheaval in timidness, this marking officially the first time I’ve displayed such an intimacy toward a colt in public. Synary was taking it in stride, and to add to my list of things I never thought I’d say, I wish I had his confidence. It’s my date, I should display some sliver of courage shouldn’t I?

Fuck it, I’m going for it.

Suddenly: surprise attack! I nuzzled against his cheek, a soft and caring rub of my muzzle against the side of his face. The move caused him to look at me in blushing alarm, looking up at me with slightly parted lips and wide eyes. He looked away, shy and red faced, muzzle scrunched up in a bashful display. That would teach him…

He was a tad more talkative after that. His parents, like Maple had told me way back when, were extremely wealthy. They were artists, inventors, geniuses with a seemingly unending passion for life, discovery and the pursuit of happiness. They were originally young runaways from some distant village I’m sure nopony has heard of, and through effort and dedication alone they made their wealth. No wonder he lacks confidence, especially when those two are a constant reminder of what he has to live up to. I changed the topic from his parents to hobbies, and discovered that the two were deeply intertwined. His parents were keen on teaching him a bunch of skills, and whilst he felt burdened with many of them, he held a particular liking of painting. It calmed him the patience behind every stroke, the drying of paint, and the cathartic feeling of watching it all come together in the end to make a beautiful piece of art. He was really selling me on it actually.

“That looks like a good spot,” I said, looking toward a rather secluded darkened patch of grass beneath a large birch tree. There were few ponies walking this far into the park, most opting to enjoying their time shallow into the park’s depths. It had a noticeable effect on Synary, his movements were lacking the same kind of restraint, and his permanent blush had seemed to lessen in intensity. He finally seemed to relax somewhat, which, in a weird way, made me proud for him. “I’ll just set this out and we can get stuck in.”

Synary stood back as I set out the blanket, removing my saddle bag and placing it in the middle. It was no wicker basket, but it would do. It wasn’t the best picnic, but who could blame me, it was my first time. Several cans of soda, multiple varieties of sandwiches of sweet and savory kinds, a fair variety of sweet stuffs and strawberry shortcake. I thought it’d make for a quant afternoon, although by this point I had grown rather complacent with the walk and simple conversation, which getting to know Synary more as an individual had alone made this affair worthwhile. But sitting on the blanket and him joining me, I couldn’t think of a better way to top this date off than good food.
He never made comment on the food, but with less ponies around he became more talkative. He asked me my favourite hobby, and I replied creative writing (ironic considering how atrocious my hoofwriting is). He asked me what my favourite piece was, then what inspired that, and then inquired how much I liked my time in the badlands, and so forth and so on. Querying him taught me why he was so intent on questioning me, as for some reason every answer he gave to every question just made me more intrigued by him as pony. After a while we had found ourselves lying on our backs, conversation altering from simple questions to nothing of substance. Not that it was a bad thing, not in the slightest. I was just enjoying his voice, and I’m sure he was enjoying mine. Without realising it, at one point the entire world was plunged into dark…

I blinked my eyes open, at first being confused by the orange light, I then realised it was dusk. Looking down I suddenly got a noseful of mane hair, sniffing and pulling away, I was enlightened to a sight that made my recently relaxed heart race into a ferocious beating. Synary had taken to sleeping on me rather than beside me, but the sight of his objectively adorable sleeping little face meant that any objection I may have had to this was nonexistent. He had on his face a cute little smirk of a smile, his cheek was squashed against my chest, his head slightly rising and falling in match of my breaths.

Is it weird to watch somepony as they sleep? It makes me feel strange, but it fills with a wholly selfish buzz in my chest, that made me want to wrap my hooves around him and pull him tighter into my chest. The dusk was colder than the afternoon, and that made the warmness of his form all the more sought after. I took the plunge, delicately wrapping my hooves around him, which prompted him to stir. He fluttered open his eyes, and he looked around dazed and confused, although after glancing down at my grey coat he took to panic. He looked up at me in worry and began to pull away, but in response with a small smile I pulled him back in, tightening my hooves. He looked wary, than happy, pressing his cheek back against my chest and nuzzled it into me. Cute.

“It’s getting pretty late,” I said, looking up. No doubt the stars would make their big reveal soon, Celestia’s sun looked ready to descend.

“I know…” he replied, his voice oddly melancholy. “I enjoyed this.”

“Me too,” I replied, giving him a squeeze. “I had a great time with you.”

“Hey,” he started, looking squeamish, “can I tell you something?”

“Anything,” I gave him a reassuring smile.

“A-after that… time, in the showers, I can’t stop thinking about it,” he spoke in a low voice, embarrassment plastered to his face.

“Y-yeah, I know what you mean,” I replied, trying to show empathy, “it was… different, to say the least.”

“I don’t mean what happened, I mean… it, your…” he trailed off, his entire face painted over with bright red.

“Oh… Oh!” Realisation slapped me, and I too felt red faced, “M-my… thing.”

“Y-yes,” he stuttered, “and can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course,” the surrealness had embedded into my head, and I knitted my brows.

“Ever since then, I can’t stop touching myself everytime it comes into thought,” he brought his voice back to a whisper, but with the context and content of what he just said I couldn’t help but take it sensually.

“R-right.”

“Looking at it… touching it… t-tasting… t-taking it,” he said in a meticulous slowness, the vibrations of his throat stirred my arousal. “The mere thought of you… and I then I can’t help but touch myself.”

“T-that’s pretty intense,” I said, thankful for the lack of spectators.

“O-oh,” he looked down the length of my body, and saw that when my arousal was stirred, as was another part of me. Swelling from the sheath, my grey mottled cock began to emerge from my sheath, myself blushing.

“Do you want to…” I trailed off, my statement causing him to look up at me the reddest blush thus far, his jaw seeming to tremble.

“I-in public?”

“I’m sorry, you’re right, we sho-”

“N-no,” he interrupted, a surprising amount of force in his voice. “I w-want to.”

I nodded, fascinated. He looked down at my slowly approaching shaft, the appendage filling with blood was a sight he appeared mesmerised by, watching it intently. Ever so slowly, he edged a hoof out toward the tip, trembling as it did so. He yanked it back, my shaft twitching in overzealousness, and I cringed thinking I frightened him off. Fortunately the fear was short lived, the underside of his hoof softly pressed against the head of my cock, and we both released breaths that I suspect neither of us knew we were holding in. He was delicate, and didn’t give off the aura of experience Blossom held, he was entirely unfamiliar. Ironic, considering we both held the same piece of equipment.

“It’s so big,” he coo’d, tracing the tip with his hoof, “and so warm.”

“Y-yeah,” the little slashes of pleasure causing a catch in my throat.

“And it gets bigger, doesn’t it?” His question came out more rhetoric than actual, and my eyes wandered down his body, and saw for some reason he was holding his legs together.

“L-let me see yours,” I requested, his hoof still brushing over the head of my cock.

“Y-yeah, sorry,” he replied, and he rotated his body, turning onto his back.

I was surprised by how hard he was already, his shaft standing fully erect into the air, bobbing and throbbing. So captured was I by the allure of his rod that I barely realised I felt warm breaths against my cock. Glancing down I saw my now fully erect and heavy erection as only a couple of inches from his muzzle, and his exhales were only a second between, almost as if he was overly excited or scared.

“You’ve looked at it, touched it, do you want to…”

Without answering, cutting my statement short, he dragged his wide tongue slowly over the head of my cock. There was savoring of taste, or thinking on the act, he continued to lick at it as if it was his favourite flavour of lollipop. Little moans came from out my mouth, his tongue was acting on no other purpose than to taste me, lapping up my beads of pre as they leaked from my shaft. When I pushed my hips towards his lips, I got no entry, and whimpered; his tongue still arduously dragging up the length of my head, his wide tongue covering every inch of it. I looked to his untouched shaft, which looked like it was aching to me touched, and if I were to admit something to only myself: I’ve wanted to suck cock ever since I saw one.

“C-can I taste you?” I tried to make it sound erotic, but it came out as a shy cheep.

“Y-yeah.”

We shifted, him turning back on his stomach and raising his plot into the air, and making little steps to shimmy over me; remaining in his place by my cock. When he was over me, his shaft swung slightly beneath him, and up close it looked a little more daunting. He unceremoniously lowered onto my chest, his erection staring me upside down in the eye, throbbing on my chest; his plot and accompanying hole were within reach, and his swollen balls were draped over his shaft.

I’ve never been this close to one that wasn’t my own, and I let curiosity overshadow my desires just a tad. My hooves pressed against either side of it, and feeling it twitch in my hooves put a amatory smile on my lips. It was hot with blood, and felt thick, and when a bead of pre leaked from the tip - it looked delectable. I inched my muzzle forward, smelling his stallionhood, the thick scent of coltyness made me feel a desire I had only fantasised about whilst pleasuring myself: to take it between my lips.

I took an experimental lick, the tip of my tongue brushing against his urethra, lapping up the bittersweet liquid that ebbed from the tip of his cock; his following moan made the translucent liquid all the more sweeter, reminding me slightly of blueberries… slightly salty blueberries. Deciding to me a little more decadent, my hooves trailed up the length of his shaft, brushing over his balls and pressing against his soft flanks. He momentarily froze under my touch, but relaxed against, his tongue continuing to idly lick at the head of my shaft. Kneading his soft plot, I tried applying what I did with Blossom here, my tongue tracing the rim of his flare, little slashes across the width. The response was what I wanted - little groans and moans, as well as his slight grinding into my chest - he wanted more, and I wanted to please…

Licking my lips, wet more with his pre than my saliva, I opened my mouth and headed towards… well, his head. The thing that my senses picked up first, before the feeling of his girth stretching my jaw, the undiluted smell of stallion, was the taste. It was a turgid cocktail of flesh, sweat, and pheromones, a taste that alone made me buck light against Synary’s lips, which parted slightly to moan as I took in his meat. My tongue lathered around his girth, pushing against the semi-hard cock with my tongue, milking out not only more pre from his erection but also moans from his throat.

Synary, realising the bar I now set, followed suite. I felt a slight pain, his jaw I could tell struggled to accommodate, his teeth slightly pushing into my cock. I could feel my wide tip pushing against his cheek, and the sight alone of his bulging maw would have probably caused me to groan in bliss. The pain of his teeth however, was far out shadowed by the ministrations of his tongue, which overworked to wash my cock with saliva and my own pre.

I took more of him into my mouth, sucking it like I would a candy cane, lapping as much of its surface area as I could. I heard Synary splutter
and cough, and I pulled back on his shaft, breathing and looking down with worry.

“Are you okay?” I asked, slightly frantic.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” he actually have a small laugh, and my worry took leave. “I just overestimated it. That’s all. It was a lot easier when I was just fantasising.”

“I get that,” I concurred, licking his broad tip with a smirk before enveloping it for a second time, a worthwhile moan coming from his mouth.
I tried to see how much I could take in. More in the mouth, the more pleasure he felt, right? At the angle I was sucking, I couldn’t take in more than what hit the back of my throat, my neck created a u-bend that his cock definitely wouldn’t appreciate being bent at. Which in a way I was thankful, as another inch would have surely triggered my gag reflex, it was a miracle it wasn’t being triggered now. I pulled back just so my lips were on the rim of his flare, and I pushed back down, my tongue all the while delivering a flurry of little lashes and strokes. He too was trying things. My size meant he couldn’t take in more than just the flare and an inch, but it didn’t mean his hooves and tongue couldn’t join in. He shifted his head, pushing my tip from cheek to cheek, his tongue realising the rim of my flare was most sensitive. I moaned around his cock, and when his hooves travels down my shaft to stimulate my medial ring, I had to wilfully stop myself from bucking.

Soon, in that moment before the final setting of the sun and the arrival of stars, the park was silent. All except for the sounds of sucking cock and the moaning colts behind it. My mouth pistoned up and down his shaft at a reasonable pace, and despite pleasure hindering my other perceptions, I still felt his shaft swelling in my mouth. My legs shook, my shaft twitching between his lips. I tapped his plot, forewarning him of my advancing orgasm. With a flick of his tongue he pulled back his maw, and immediately set upon my cock with his tongue, licking it with the speed one might employ to eat a rapidly melting ice cream. I wasn’t going to orgasm without him, and placed my hooves on his erection, squeezing around his medial ring downward to the head; milking with my hooves and sucking with my mouth, ready to drink his sticky milk.

“Mhm!” I sounded around his cock as I bucked my hips, my shaft flaring as I felt the first rope of cum shoot from my cock, his tongue still stroking the tip and lapping it up as it fired. Meanwhile he bucked into my chest, his cock erupting and flaring in my mouth, his seed pouring generously from his shaft. It came out at such a speed I could swallow it, but my cheeks bulged out at the sheer quantity, and I was astonished his balls held this much within them. He tasted like a thick creamy salty black currant milkshake, and I released a moan, the taste was surprisingly was orgasmic… Pun?

When I finished swallowing down Synary’s cum, I pulled back off his shaft with a gasp, some seed dribbling down the corner of my lip. It was then I noticed Synary was still idly licking at my shaft, the still sensitive tip causing my lower half to quiver and shake.

“S-Synary?” I probed, catching his attention, looking over his shoulder.

“Sorry,” he grinned full of bash, and I smirked.

“I didn’t realise you liked it that much.”

“There was a lot of it. I genuinely thought it was still pouring out, so my tongue was on autopilot there,” he explained, a grin appearing on my face.

“Well, I apologise,” I was half sincere, a part of me sly.

“No need,” he was now soft in voice, and he nuzzled against my softening cock. “This was great.”

“Synary?” I verbally prodded, getting no reply.

“Synary? Synary... we can’t sleep here… Synary, please wake up… we’re in the middle of the park, Synary… come on, we’ve got school tomorrow… Synary?!”

Chapter 4: Lists, Depression, And Parties

“Synary… Blossom… Synary… Blossom…”

“What are you doing?” Gem asked me, annoyed.

“Trying to choose,” I replied simply, voice monotone, and I heard her scoff.

“You’re what?”

“You heard me,” I replied, still not looking up from the couch.

“You came into the living room just to say their names out loud over and over?”

“No. I came in here to say their names out loud over and over to you,” I specified, and glancing down I saw her look at me with an arched brow. “You said you’d help me.”

“I thought you just wanted somepony to talk at your ills.”

“That’s what I am doing, aren’t I? But if you want to actually help, help me decide what to do here,” I said, I pushed back against the arm of the chair, leaning up to look at her scrunched up expression.

“Well, I suppose,” she shrugged, curling her lip. “What can I do?”

“Help me decide which pony I should choose.”

“I can’t help you with something like that!” She exclaimed, looking at me with a sneer. “It’s immoral. Do you know how many mares have been subjugated to this shit?”

“…One of them is a colt,” I said meekly, and she smirked.

“Wow,” she rolled her eyes, crossing her hooves, “you’re a real paragon of virtue aren’t you?”

“I know, I know!” I rubbed my hooves into my eyes, keeping over. “I’m a horrible pony, but please help.”

She exhaled. “Fine. I’ll get a piece of paper and a pencil. Maybe some highlighters.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t a hypocrite,” she gave me a sideward glance, walking by me with a small grin.

A few minutes passed and she came back in with a pad of paper on her back, and a pencil between her teeth, spitting out and placing the pad on the coffee table; moving my hind hooves and taking a seat beside me. Before I could speak she had set to work, creating a simple double column table, with two words written at the top of each column.

“Filly and colt?” I said as she placed the table on my side of the table, looking at me with a shrug.

“Let’s get it down to the basic components. Maybe you prefer the sum of one’s parts over the other, right?”

“Hmm, okay, I can see that,” I replied, nodding and leaning down, taking the end of the pencil in my mouth.

Let’s see… well, Blossom is cute… well, so is Synary. I suppose they both get a point for that. Synary is kind… so is Blossom. Ok, I am fast seeing a problem. Let’s get the last similarity out of the way: They’re both hot. Ok, differences, differences… Synary has a penis, and Blossom a vagina.

“Ew,” Gem stated simply, causing me to look her sideways. “Also, your hoof writing is terrible.”

“Why do they call it hoofwriting if it’s done with mouths, Gem!” I spat the pencil onto the pad, the end lathered in saliva.

“Ew.”

“You know what,” I leant down, grapping the end with my teeth, bringing it back down to the pad. “Screw it,” I spoke around the pencil, scribbling out the words I wrote, punctuating with ‘screw it’ written at the bottom of the page, the dot above the ‘I’ a frowning face. “Writing it down lessens the whole thing anyway.”

“So how do you propose to choose?” She asked, and I sighed.

“They’re both wonderful. If I could have it my way, I would have them both,” I replied honestly, sniffing. “But that isn’t fair, is it…”

“On who?”

“Both of them. The fact I’m having this conversation is already spitting on the kindness they gave me,” I deflated, eyes downcast. “I… I can’t have either, can I?”

“That’s up to you, Silver,” she replied, and I felt solemn, and that my head and will had been stretched out and trodden upon.

“I care for them both, like I said before. And I don’t want to hurt either of them… but if I stay with them both, in secret, and then they both find out… I can barely live with it now,” I said, and I felt my jaw quiver.

“Brother mine,” Gem said softly, and I felt a hoof wrap around me with an affectionate tightness, “it’s okay.”

“You shouldn’t feel any kind of sympathy for me,” I said, leaning my head on her shoulder, “this is a genuinely horrible thing.”

“Silver, you’re young, and you’re new to your heart being in two places at once,” she explained, and I nearly shied away from her nuzzle atop my head. “So don’t hold it against yourself too harshly for your mistake, brother.”

“Thank you,” I said, feeling a tad less horrible, but my guild still weighed a ton on my conscience. “I’ve never broken up with anypony before… and I have to do it twice.”

“Or once…”

My uniform felt unusually tight. My tie almost felt as though it was strangling me, and the building felt several degrees above comfortable. I gained a case of acute paranoia, and even as the students maintained a steadfast look ahead, I couldn’t help but imagine their eyes glance at me accusingly; my heart striking the inside of my ribcage. They had no way of knowing what I did, or what I’m about to do, yet a part of me believed they were going to all simultaneously look at me and jeer and boo me. And of course, that self-depreciating part of me, that part that kept making me aware of the crime I committed, wanted them to.

As I turned a corner, still keeping an eye out, I saw the most peculiar of sights. It was Maple. Now ordinarily such a sight wasn’t unusual, I’d be ambivalent to it, but he wasn’t alone. He was surrounded by a plethora of mares and stallions, all listening intently to whatever bullshit he was spewing, and after a moment they all began to laugh. I was half-curious, and was tempted to go see what they all found so funny, as well as investigate how Maple of all ponies was able to gather such a crowd. Did he miraculously become popular? Well, he is pretty good at capitalising on opportunity. I suppose he was able to milk Blossom sitting beside him quite well, and Synary (the new kid, whom was cute to many mares) was icing on the already too frosted cake for him. I suppose I have that display to thank for taking my mind briefly away from my current problem, but I can’t let petty matters distract me. I tore my eyes away, and walked past without more than a second glance, seeing Maple’s pride ridden expression.

I found Blossom walking down one of the hallways flanked on either side by mares, both chatting to her, apparently not noticing of her blank disinterested expression. Upon noticing me she perked up visibly, and without a word she somehow shrugged off the mares without uttering a word, almost as if they were decoration.

“Hey, Silver. What’s up?” She greeted, and despite her affectionate smile, I found myself unable to return it.

“Hi Blossom,” I returned the greeting, and struggled to maintain eye contact, “can you come with me, I have to tell you something.”

“Um, sure,” she shrugged, still smiling.

“We have to find Synary first,” I said, and she tilted her head in confusion.

“Why does he have to be there too?” She asked, and I paused, glancing away momentarily.

“I-I just need the two of you, okay?” I said, inkling of desperation in my voice.

“Alright,” she said, her brow arched. My expression in reply was a meek smile.

She followed me, just short of walking abreast, but she lagged behind as I picked the pace. I didn’t want to see the expression she wore, confusion, or even worse yet annoyance. There were glances as students saw her follow me, a sight understandably strange. A colt never the centre of anything, was suddenly the leader of the school’s most popular student, or failing that the principal’s daughter… now that I’ve said that, the idea of what I’m about to do seems less attractive, not that it was a particularly beckoning prospect to begin with.

I nearly missed Synary, his attempts to make himself small and unnoticed were improving, and it was actually him that sought my attention. “Silver,” he said as I walked past, his hoof prodding softly into my side.

“S-Synary,” I replied, turning to face him, his smile warm.

“Hi, Silver, it’s nice to see you,” he greeted, and when his eyes flicked to Blossom his smile lessened somewhat. Although I could sense it wasn’t out of maliciousness, but rather, his nervousness had come up to surface as it predominantly had. His lack of it around me, well… was self-explanatory. “H-hey Blossom Bloom.”

“You can just call me ‘Blossom’, remember?” She said playfully, and Synary’s smile appeared a little less submissive.

“S-sorry, B-Blossom,” he re-greeted, and Blossom beamed.

“I’m sorry, Synary, but could you follow me?” I asked, and he looked at me with slightly risen eyebrows.

“O-oh, okay,” he complied, the smile he still wore made my chest ache.

“Please follow me,” I said to the both of them, walking off down the hall, them presumably following in tow.

I searched for an empty room, be it classroom or janitor’s closet. I must have looked weird standing on my hind hooves to look through the glass, shaking my head at the sight of a student or teacher.

“Why can’t you just say what you want to say out here, Silver?” Blossom asked, still lagging behind.

“It has to be in private,” I said firmly, and that was the last of that.

Several more minutes passed, and I found that one of the art classrooms on the east side of school was empty. I rushed inside, trespassing be damned. The confused duo followed me inside, and I heard Synary begin some kind of protest, but his voice fizzled out and became a squeak. The windows in here lacked curtains, which I suspect was intentional considering the subject taught in here, and there was something aesthetic about sunlight on paint covered desks.

I gulped, and walked further inside, taking a spot at the front of the class, they stood before me side by side. They looked at each with sideward glances of confusion, before landing their eyes upon me, expectant. I remained tight jawed, looking between them with furrowed brows and pursed lips. Emerald and amber eyes, both different colours, both sharing the same level of worry.

“Well… what is it?” Blossom asked, and Synary gave a slight nod.

I sat on my flank, and resisted the urge to fidget, my heart beating furiously, my gut being tied into knots. “Uh…”

“Silver?” Synary’s voice held a tone of concern, although he shied away when Blossom gave him a arched brow look.

“I don’t really know how to go about this…” I muttered, looking between the two of them.

“Go about what?” Blossom took a step toward me, and I grimaced.

“This whole thing,” I replied half-heartedly, “I don’t know how to start.”

“C-can we help?” Synary asked, and I cringed.

“O-okay. W-what do you two both have in common?” I asked, and they both looked perplexed.

“Uh… we both go the same school?” Blossom offered, and Synary nodded.

“Ok, uh…” I smacked my lips together, “you both also have something else in common. Mainly relating to m-me.”

They both tilted their heads, glancing to one another before looking back at me. “You?” Said Blossom.

“Y-yes,” I replied, and she looked even more confused.

“We both know you, both go to the same school as you, we both considerer you a friend…” she teetered off on the end of that line of thought, looking between the floor and myself with squinted eyes and furrowed brows. “Wait a minute…”

“W-what?” Synary asked, and she found herself alternating between him, me, and the floor.

“Y-yeah?” I probed her, and her eyes parted as realisation struck her, looking to Synary.

“You sucked his dick?!” Blossom exclaimed with incredulousness toward the suddenly cowering colt, and I went wide eyed and took a step toward them.

“No, no, no, I meant you both had dates with me, not that!”

“Oh, so he didn’t?”

“W-well…” Synary stuttered, his face going bright pink with a blush.

“T-this is going off course,” I said, and the two of them looked at each other with an expression I couldn’t read. “B-but now you know why I wanted to speak to the both of you.”

“Well, this is quite something,” Blossom said, and for some reason I found her reaction underwhelming. Regardless of visible anger, I still felt the daisy chain in my gut. “I honestly don’t know how to react.”

“M-me too,” Synary surprisingly spoke out, and Blossom glanced at him with a nod before looking back at me.

“Upset that I betrayed both of your trusts?” I offered, and Blossom pursed her lips.

“A l-little,” Synary looked away, “b-but we have to be realistic, don’t we?”

“What?” I asked, looking at him worried.

“Y-you only went out with me once,” Synary said rather bluntly, a little downtrodden. “We shared something special, but we still hardly know each other.”

“He’s right,” Blossom concurred, and I looked at her just as confused. “We did go out twice, both times because I asked you to. I don’t blame you for taking out Synary – he’s cute – but like he said, we have to be realistic. I don’t feel cheated on, and the way you’re reacting to all this is… kinda sweet.”

“Thanks for telling us,” Synary seemed to agree, and I could only look between the two of them confused.

“Don’t you want to slap me, kick my flank, or belittle me in front of the whole school?”

“Not particularly. Although there would be something interesting we could do in front of the whole school, as long as we don’t get caught that this…” Blossom trailed off slyly, and Synary looked away, face red. “Besides, I think we both also have in common we like you too.”

“But it’s not fair,” I stressed, looking between them with a weary stare. “This can only end one way, and you know that. And I don’t want to do that to either of you. I know it’s a little weird for me to say, especially since we haven’t known each other for too long, but I care for you both, and I don’t want to see either of you getting hurt.”

“Well, what do you want us to say, Silver?” Blossom looked tired, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at either of them.

“You don’t have to say anything, you never had to say anything,” I said, pursing my lips. “But I can say that I’m sorry I did this… goodbye.”

Sister wrapped her hoof around me for the second time this week, and on the same day no less. She must have heard me coming up the stairs, and when I took refuge in my room, she joined me. I sat propped against the headboard of my bed, and I scooted over for her, and when she took me in a single hoofed embrace I leant against her; my head on her nape.

“You don’t look beaten up, so at least they look like they took it well,” she quipped, voice soft.

“They took it better than me,” I replied, recalling how my sombre exit from the room went unopposed, their expressions saddened. “You ever broken up with anypony before?”

“I have. But by that point I felt nothing for them. I can’t imagine breaking up with somepony who you liked, and you did it twice at once.”

“Yeah…” I said monotone, chewing the inside of my cheek. “I feel like shit.”

“That was expected.”

“Yep…” I sighed.

“What are you gonna do now?” She asked, and I looked down in thought.

“I don’t know. What can I do?”

“Don’t let this brief moment ruin the rest of you life?”

“…That’s a good start.”

I couldn’t summon the will to go to school, at least for a little while. The thought of going back to that mess of awkwardness left me cringing and feeling physically ill. I spent most of the week lazing about, idly doing some work here or there, but I mostly felt drained. Is this depression? Celestia, I hope not. It was Thursday and I sitting in the dining room, eating a bowl of cereal whilst I idly read a newspaper. Something about a pony called Coattail and the government, I don’t know. Twinkle, surprisingly, took a seat at the table. She hadn’t really done much, and I’ve come to think of her as a decoration, as bad at that sounds she wasn’t somepony who I disdained sharing the room with. In her mouth she placed upon the table several letters, and sighed, bored. Atleast we shared that in common.

“Hey,” I greeted, and she glanced at me from the adjacent seat across the table, blinking.

“Hey,” she returned, monotone. At least we spoke the same language?

“What you got there?”

“Just some mail,” she shrugged, scratching her nose.

“Right… gotta get the mail.”

“Yep…”

“…”

“…” Wow, this was awkward. “So, where’d you work?”

“Here.”

“No, I meant, you know… before,” I rolled my head, avoiding stating the obvious.

“Right… at a brothel,” she shrugged, her tone still dead.

“Local?”

“Yeah.”

“Ponyville?”

“No. Canterlot,” she said, and I was taken slightly aback.

“There’s a brothel in Canterlot? You know this is where the princesses live, right?” I asked, slightly in disbelief.

“Believe whatever you want, but it exists,” she replied, her voice betraying an inkling of pride.

“What’s it called?” I asked.

“Why, want to go?” She spoke, her tone still flat, but there again was a tinge of humour in the way she spoke.

“N-no, just curious. What do you call a brothel in the royal city?” I could imagine a few, the monarch’s plothole, shame of the city, or maybe something fancy like risqué.

“Red door.”

“What?” I asked, maybe she mistook my question as to what it looked like from outside, but to be honest I had no idea how she could misconstrue it as that.

“That’s the name,” she shrugged, and at my furrowed brows she gave something of a smirk, which was just a quick exhale through the nose. “The red door brothel, it’s quite popular you know.”

“Really?” I curled my lip. You learn something new every day. Apparently learning there’s a brothel right under the nose of Celestia herself is quite intriguing. “How much did you make anyway?”

“Eighty on a good night. Although there were plenty of other mares who made more. There was a mare called Velvet Touch who raked in five hundred usually,” she leant forward a bit as she talked, a smile curve was present on her lip.

“So she was good?”

“Buck yeah, she was good. Dead proud of it too. Bit of a bitch,” she ended with a half shrug, “don’t know what happened to her. She disappeared a few months ago.”

“Any theories?”

“Eh, some of the mares thought she was kidnapped, others think she got guilted into stopping by a colt that came in one day, might have been hers, who knows. Some even think she found love,” she ended that statement with an incredulous look.

“She might’ve,” I said, “what can I say. I’m a bit of a sucka for a happy ending.”

“Maybe, maybe. Then again, she could be dead in some gutter somewhere,” I pulled a sour expression, and then she curled her lip, “or maybe she found love. But that makes you quite the optimist.”

“A little bit,” I said, a shrug, and I remembered just how much an optimist I was when revealing the truth to Synary and Blossom. Well, there’s that slump again… “Are any of those mine?”

“Oh? Let me check,” she looked down, her eyes following the letters of the first letter and swatting it aside, reading the next. She moved aside two more before tilting her head and furrowing her brows. “Uh…”

“What?”

“For numbnuts?” She said with a smirk, and pushed it toward me, the paper sliding on the varnished wood.

“For me?” I said, looking down at the white envelope, pushing aside my cereal and looking at it with a curled lip. I tore the top off with my teeth and pulled out the piece of paper within, unfolding it, the paper written in unusually neat cursive. “Dear Fagaloon, you are hereby cordially summoned to bask in the graciousness of your emcee, Maple. There is no dress code, however it is mandatory for your socks to be worn, so that as the night progresses, they will be knocked off with the full force of my party mastery. Let’s wake Celestia the fuck up our party is so cray. Yours sincerely, Maple ‘Party master’ Oakly.” Below was a list of details, minus address because in its place was ‘you know where I live, you fuck’. Saturday, eight O’clock.

“Sounds like a party invite,” said Twinkle.

“Yes it does, Twinkle. Yes it does.”

“You gonna go?”

“What else is a colt gonna do on a Saturday night?”

… I wonder if Synary and Blossom will be there?

Chapter 5: Stank

Parties. I was never invited to many of them. My circle of friends was relatively small in kindergarten, and over time it grew ever smaller, until all that remained was Maple. Maple, of this I was staunch, was a good friend. Perhaps not the best, as others would have certain standards for what constituted a good and bad pony, but despite his flaws (of which he had a bounty) he wasn’t a bad guy. If my friendship with him was alike that of a married couple who had been together too long as to not bother getting a divorce, I would not have even considered going to his party.

Prior to my leaving I tried to find Gem, and then I realized that she unlike I, had a much more active social life. To think she’d be meandering about the house on a Saturday was incredibly naïve of me, but I was nervous. Would anyone notice me, or question my absence? Maple, even though it was only a letter, seemed particularly indifference to my disappearance. Other than the doubtless opposition to such a move from my teachers, there were two certain ponies who made apprehension well up in my joints, slugging my movements. I would’ve liked to have pinned all my nervousness on the party, but if there was a chance those two were to appear, well…

Thing is, I’ve not been to one since I was little more than a toddler, my cousin’s fifth birthday party. From what I recall, it was very noisy, a lot of talking, drinking, eating, and there was vomit everywhere. But surely since it’s a party for semi-adults and teens it is likely to be different, and I can’t imagine Maple – who was surprisingly generous when it would lead to the prospect of his ego getting stroked – would tolerate such things in his house. But I do suspect teens are quite a lot different from toddlers and young foals when it comes to parties, so I can’t imagine the same things going down… right?

Well, I had the time to ponder such things. Rarely did I have to go about Canterlot at night, the streets oddly sparse despite the size of the city. Rather than the occasional smiling citizen, I’d see a stoic faced guard, who would flash a half smile before going about their way. At some point whilst going to Maple’s house, I heard the distant sound of a ‘beat’, and something akin to spotlights in the sky. It was a Saturday, maybe Vinyl Scratch was in town, although if that was the case I’m sure Maple would have cancelled his party in a heartbeat. But speaking of Maple, it does sound suspiciously close to whereabouts he lives, but I’m sure that’s just coincidence right. Surely he wouldn’t do something that lucrative…

Oh. He would. Of fucking course he would.

The Oakly mansion was lit up like Hearth’s warming eve tree, and even from across the street I struggled to look at it without slightly squinting my eyes. There were hundreds of ponies, some I regarded with a brief glimmer of recognition, likely I’ve seen then walking around the school and hadn’t given them a second thought. Others were definitely strangers, who I had no memory of whatsoever. There were so many, that the party appeared to start outside the grounds of the estate, with various mares and stallions idly talking and drinking outside the fence. Speaking of drinks, even a distance away in the air there was a pungent smell of cider, which was so strong in smell that I couldn’t even feign it had enough alcohol in it to make a minotaur buckle. The number of red flags is actually pretty amazing. A huge amount of ponies, without supervision, drunk of their rockers in the most royal of cities in all of Equestria? I’m also surprised at the lack of any royal guard whatsoever, as the noise alone was sure to bring a few, surely? Well shit, I could go inside and I’d probably risked getting shanked by a unicorn falling into me he’s so blind drunk. I just need to get in, find Maple, tell him I’m here and then leave. There’s so many ponies here he won’t notice that I’m gone right?

I took to a hastened pace when I approached the mansion grounds, trying to not make eye contact with anyone, and took shallow breaths to avoid smelling in the thick stench of alcohol. Getting through the dense crowd at the gate was difficult. For some reason they congregated there. I didn’t bother to understand the logic. Why anypony would choose to remain outside rather than in was beyond me... Oh Celestia I hadn’t even considered what it’s like inside! If out here I could barely tolerate the smell and noise, I can only imagine what it’s like inside. Good grief…

The grounds were also teeming with ponies. They all appeared to be having a good time, and seemed to be of a different and more… ‘carefree’ caliber. Mares were being chased by colts with huge smiles across their faces, couples writhed on the grass, staining their coats with mud and grass as they made out. I’d say it was hedonistic if it weren’t so PG. I tore my eyes away from the debauchery. I needed to keep my eyes straight, attract no attention, and get to Maple… wherever that bastard is at. I made sure to stay within the lines of the path, not straying from the comfortably straight and precise stone line as if my life depended on it, as if seemed that any who walked on the grass was devolved into some kind of screaming drunk lunatic. Not that I’m judging, it’s just I’d rather not chance waking up anywhere other than a bed I’m familiar with in the morning.

As I reached the porch, again similar to the gate, there was a thick swathe of ponies glued to it. Through the open door I heard what must have been a hundred voices, all talking over each other, their words indecipherable. Like the gate I squeezed my way through, nervously smiling toward the colts and fillies who cast me strange looks as I passed by them, trying my best not to look anyone in the eye. Inside I was kind of blinded by the volume, which had be grimacing and half tempted to lie down and over my ears. Haphazardly strewn about the hall were large oversized speakers, which vibrated and sounded out some kind of beat with nonsensical lyrics. Additionally, somepony must have switched out the bulbs, the entire inside lighted with what looked like a pink haze; atop some of the speakers and tables pink candle wax melted and plastered over the sides, giving the inside a thick smell of cranberries. Admittedly, I’m having a hard time telling what the theme is, if there is one. Although the night is young, I’m already finding myself not envying whoever has to clean this up.

The large hall was dense with large groups budded around the place. Ponies were dancing on tables, a colt was sat on a speaker drinking, a mare the spectacle of a small crowd as she appeared to be ‘winning’ some kind of drinking game; at least thirty red and white plastic cups discarded on the floor beside her. There must have been five dozen in the great hall alone, and through the miasma like pink fog, I had trouble making out anypony familiar. I snaked my way past the groups, taking advantage of the narrow gaps and passages. Very quickly I found myself getting disoriented. The party was kicking all of my senses collective asses. Music, voices, claustrophobic tightness, and the disability to see more than a few feet in front of me. The mental map I had of Maple’s house, which in the past I had frequented only a few times, was getting all the more messy as I wandered wantonly around.

Now that I was in here, I completely lost track of what I was doing. I knew I had to find Maple, but since I didn’t know where he was I was just wandering around like some kind of jackass. I needed some help. I trailed around, looking for an isolated mare or stallion for help. In the corridor left of the hall (which due to it being a small area was even denser with smell and volume), I passed by other guests as was expected, one stallion even trying to force a cup into my empty hooves with a creepy smile on his face – although due to him being a stranger I may have misinterpreted – regardless I smiled limply and shook my head.

I navigated the halls, and each doorway I came across I shied away from entering, teetering away always grimacing. I really didn’t want to interact with anyone. I never truly considered myself an introvert, but the sight of a lot of unfamiliar smiling faces made me nervous. At some point I began to think something was in the air, a lot of couples were just openly displaying their ‘love’ together against the walls. Of course not sex, they weren’t me or Blossom, but there was something about parties apparently that encouraged this. Odd, considering the absolute un-hotness of vomiting, underage drinking, and for lack of a better term: Stank.

Near the entrance to the living room, I saw a yellow coated stallion all by himself. He had a dense looking red mane, and he was looking around with tired squinted eyes. At least, I think he was tired. There was a particular sluggishness to his movements, and he had a dumb looking smile on his lips. Unlike others ponies here I didn’t find his demeanour intimidating, but ‘approachable’ was loosely used here. As I got close, he reeked of a stench that somehow overpowered the combined aroma of the party. Is it worth a curl of the lower lip that he achieved such a monumental feat? Maybe.

As I approached, he landed his groggy looking eye on me, and I meekly smiled. “Hey!”

“Sorry, don’t swing that way,” he replied, looking alarming, and I scrunched my brows and shook my head.

“Have you seen Maple?” I asked, trying to beat the sheer volume.

“I don’t think there are any foals here, bro!” He replied, taking another sip from his drink, body bobbing slightly to the music.

“What?” I replied, barely able to make out what he was saying.

“Maybe you should trim your coat bro, worked wonders for me!” He shouted back, and I recoiled. Rather than continue to get incoherent replies I meandered away, casting him a furrowed brow expression as I continued down the hallway.

I was beginning to get annoyed. Something of a headache had begun to form in my skull, the volume, smell and disorientation all culminating into a migraine inducing fruit shake. As I neared the dining room, another loud noise joined alongside the music. A deep, bombastic, eye rolling dulcet. Maple. I hurried my steps to the dining hall, the enormous room apt for an enormous colt. As I approached the dining room, ponies were filtering in sparsely, muttering and drinking. I joined in what essentially was a queue to get inside, trying to make out what exactly was being said over the myriad of voices chatting over one another in the line. I shifted uncomfortably as the line continued, trying my best to look inconspicuous and small.

When I finally trickled inside, the organised line was incredibly out of place. The dining hall, a place that was borderline revered by the Oakly family, was now a zoo. I looked around with raised brows. He didn’t even bother to reorganise anything, the dining table was now being used as a combination dance floor and buffet. It was loud, and smelt sweet. I took a few steps, making way for others who entered, who immediately galloped off somewhere in the room; smiling and laughing all the way. I paused, simply basking in it all. It was like watching a train collision happening in slow motion, I just couldn’t bring myself to look away. Despite the duration of the party, I was impressed by how much they managed to destroy. There were shards of plate and glass scattered around, some paintings face down on the door, being used as makeshift dance mats. This was the heart of the party all right, the epicenter of the ‘explosion’ that had been slowly expanding outward, catching any and all in it. I wonder how many outside even knew whose house this was?

My eyes were immediately drawn to the back of the room, and I had to double take. Dozens of caskets piled up in an elaborate set up, looking almost like a pyramid with no tip, that being because there was something deeply disturbing at its top. A throne, simple yet grotesquely aggrandizing, likely fetched from an attic or something. And seated within it, on a plush purple cushion, and a golden drinking on his hat was…

“Hello party ponies!” Maple boomed, his voice possessing the amazing ability to surpass even the music. He attracted several eyes from the dense collective of partying colts and fillies, but many of the others continued to drink and talk amongst themselves. “It is I! Canterlot’s, nay, Equestria’s first and only king! Maple Oakly, the party king of Equestria!”

“Oh Celestia no,” I cringed, although I saw that a good portion of the room had their attention on him, their lips turned into grins.

“So bow! Bow you shits! Hahaha!” He guffawed in a manner I could only call hysterical. For some reason, which I could only attribute to their drunkenness, laughed; a few playfully complying. “We’re gonna party so hard that Canterlot will fall from this fucking mountain!” At that statement many of the gathered cheered, wooing and laughing. The hall had reduced in volume somewhat, and somepony somewhere had lowered the music. “Now quieten down, quieten down, your king demands it!”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh brother,” I muttered… but furrowed my eyebrows when the room, and maybe even the entire mansion, went deathly quiet. The music had been switched off, and ponies all around me looked upon Maple, smiling but silent.

“Par-ty,” he began an orotund call, hitting the casket beside him twice, one for each syllable.

What?

“Party. Party. Party,” he began to chant, increasing in volume with each utterance, and a hundred voices ebbed along into chanting with him. I looked around bemused, ponies clopping their hooves on the table and floor, looking around impassioned by Maple’s theatrics. I soon heard the chant pass behind me, and when I craned my neck over my shoulders I saw others had taken a place at the door, echoing the chant of their fat blue ‘king’. The chant was carried along throughout the rest of the estate I’m sure. It grew to such a volume I was actually impressed that Maple of all ponies was able to… inspire something within them. He roused them into a true partying gusto, and I at the height he whacked his hoof down on a casket’s spigot, smashing it off and allowing a trickle of clear apple cider to fall from the barrel. Unsurprisingly, this was met with thunderous applause, and the chanting was replaced by cheers. “Drink until your livers rot, and dance until your hooves fall off!” He encouraged, cackling…

They cheered, and went about just doing that. Gaps between ponies disappeared as the music blared back to life, mares and colts taking to grinding and dancing with one another in a thick dense crowd. Of course some remained on the table, some just needing to dance it seems. It was almost as if Maple had somehow caught them in a spell of some sort, but I know better. They were all just teens, horny, and drunk… if I were somepony else this would be absolute heaven wouldn’t it?

I now had to somehow navigate through a practical legion of even more energized dancers. The lighting dimmed to near complete darkness, and the unicorns in the room lit up their horns to make up for that, creating a myriad of swaying and bobbing bright lights. It was near dizzying, some had taken to flashing them on and off to create a stupefying display. As I pushed my way through, my face creased into a grimace. I would occasionally feel a drop of liquid land on my coat from a nearby partier. I think it’s cider… Celestia, I hope it was just cider.

Reaching Maple’s ‘throne’ seemed to take forever. Ponies somehow managed to squeeze their bodies even close together as they danced, making passing through them even more arduous than it was before. A few mares pressed against me, and I could only reply with a half-hearted grin as I continued on. At the base of the casket construction, I looked up to see a colt who was obviously very proud of himself, his smugness somehow more pungent than any other smell in the room.

“Maple!” I barked, struggling to even hear my own voice.

His ear flickered, kind of surprising he heard me but I won’t knock it. His gaze fell to the base of his own ‘monument’. For a split moment he remained locked in his expression of smugness, before his face sagged and his chest puffed out as he exhaled. I tilted my head as he scurried down the steep makeshift steps of his throne, and I backed away when he hit the tiled floor with a heavy landing.

“Come with me,” he immediately demanded, raising his voice to be audible. So taken aback by the abruptness of his order that I was momentarily stunted in place, watching as he turned away from me and walked ahead with a quickened step. I blinked and creased my face, following him with a tilted head.

“No ‘Hi Silver’ or ‘nice that you made it?’” I asked, catching up to walk beside him.

“Huh?” He looked at me lopsided, and I rolled my eyes.

“Nothing,” I sighed, following his short stride. There was something weird going on… why the hell am I even following him anyway? I can’t even say I’m curious. Maple doesn’t come close to what I’d call an ‘enigma’, but I suppose if he was willing to leave the spotlight for a moment to lead me off somewhere it must be worth something. There’s also the whole fact he’s my friend, so I wouldn’t say I didn’t trust him not to lead off to private place to kill or lynch me.

Towards the right side of the hall we took a left, bending away from the dense tide of dancing partying ponies and through a pair of knobless doors. Leading the kitchen and pantry most likely, and I’m surprised even an inch of this mansion lacks a guest standing on it; even more surprising than Maple shrugging off the stroking of his ego, even if it was only a few minutes. Entering the room the doors effectively rendered the uproar into a muffled orchestra behind the thick wood, and Maple hurried ahead, standing on his hind hooves to reach something on the counter.

“You didn’t lead me in here just for food did you?” I asked, and whilst I was joking, I teetered off. This was Maple after all.

He dropped from the counter and spun around, and threw a thick looking iron key at my hooves. “Here. Take this, third floor, first door to your right.”

“Wait, what?” I furrowed my brows, looking between the key at my hooves (which I felt reluctant to pick up. Although if I did, alcohol does make a decent disinfectant I suppose) and Maple’s neutral expression; his pursed lips however were telling of… something, I think.

“Ok, dude, first off: thanks for coming,” he said with wide eyes and a tilted smile, highly deriding, but nonetheless appreciated. “Secondly: I don’t know what weird shit you’ve been doing in your own time, and at another time I might have asked, but I don’t have enough time. I can only a singular nice,” he said with a curled lip, nodding his head. “As well as one ew, since I don’t have nearly enough time to offer some kind of fucking expository spew of words on how bat-guard shit insane this entire thing is. So… good luck!” He ended by patting me on the shoulder and brushing past me, leaving me confused and exasperated.

“W-what?!” I stuttered out after he had already left me alone in the kitchen, turning to look at the doors, my expression locked into one of bafflement. He knew? No, he couldn’t possibly know… Oh, he would. Of course he fucking would.

I wrinkled my nose, shaking off a lime green piece of confetti off my nose, looking disdainfully over my shoulder; glad to have left the ‘party floor’, a title oddly enough anointed to the floor in the past hour and wasn’t given the first floor weirdly enough. The taste of the key in my mouth must have made me develop a ire toward all things metal, I wonder what Father will think? Ugh, I need to get the taste out of my mouth. I have no mouthwash and I must rinse.

Reaching the top of the stairs, I noted the darkness. Aside from a fluttering curtain at the back, in which light from Luna’s rock shone through, it was entirely drowning in dark. I’m surprised Maple’s party hadn’t flooded this floor too, although knowing him, there remains the possibility this is still all a prank. Did I fail to call a bluff of his, or did he genuinely know and alerted to the entire party to my activities to gather them all and kink shame me? Who knows, maybe. But still, in for a penny, in for a pound… what the hell is a penny anyway?

I craned my neck to an unassuming door, the light wood taking on a purple hue in the light, and due to the sparsity of the floor, I wonder why he bothered to keep it locked at all. I shoved in the key, turning sideways to the door, and turned it with my hooves; hearing a somewhat satisfying click on doing so. It’s an odd thing to think about, but I hardly recall hearing the noise of locking and unlocking doors. Security was very lax I suppose, but why did Maple need to keep an empty room locked? Question for later. I think I’m just rambling to myself by this point. Distracting myself from the glaring truth. It’s obvious why I was sent here. Maple knows, almost for certain, and there is only two ponies in the entire city that could have told hi- oh shit, I forgot about Gem.! Aw crap, would she have told Maple just to fuck with me? Hopefully not.

I pushed the door open without a creak, doubtless a lot of money brought well oiled hinges. The room itself was somewhat more welcoming than the hallway, the large windows toward the back of the room allowed the bright lights from the garden to shine in, illuminating the room faintly in a motley bundle of colors. I stepped inside, and my eyes skittered around the room. It was undoubtedly for guests, the furniture scarce but ornament aplenty; wealth liberally splattered around the room in a garish display of opulence. I’m sure Mother would love it here. What attracted most of my attention oddly was the excessively large bed at the opposite side of the room. I sort of wanted to jump on it, and another part of me felt like I needed a lie down… I really need to lie down.

I opened my eyes, lacking any kind of grog. I could still hear the party raging downstairs, but it was a more subtle noise that stirred me. The sound of the door being pushed open quickly caused the gust of wind, and I barely picked it up. I propped myself up off my stomach slightly, ready to apologize to the party guest that accidentally wandered in, but I froze. A single black silhouette stood just on the other side of the door frame, features impossible to make out in the dark shroud they wore. I leaned forward slightly, squinting to make anything out, but recoiled when they began to make their way forward. The silhouette continued walking forward, and just short of the light, they broke and diverged into two as they walked into the light.

“Oh,” my voice was quiet.

“Hey Silver. Long time no see,” Blossom greeted, flashing me a closed lip smile before looking to the colt to her adjacent side.

“H-hi, Silver,” Synary said, looking between Blossom and I with skittishness.

“I, uh… I don’t know what to say,” I looked between the two of them, for some reason finding the lack of rage on their expressions disconcerting. Mostly though, the awkwardness was so thick in the air I could taste it on my tongue.

“How about ‘hello’,” Blossom offered, smirking, although her brows remained furrowed and her lips pursed.

“H-hello,” I parroted, my mouth kept parting to say something, but as soon as I did I forgot the words. I looked between them, their neutral expressions betrayed a tinge of something. It was subtle, a small crease between the brows of the slight tilt of their heads. “W-what should I say next?”

Blossom chortled, sitting on her haunches. “I don’t know. This entire thing was a pain in the flank to arrange. Now that we’re all here though... “

“You arranged all this?” I asked, arching a brow and curling a lip.

“You think Maple managed to get enough acclaim to get a guestlist this big? By Luna’s flank no!” Blossom exclaimed, exhaling through her nostrils sharply. “Although he has fit into the role rather snugly. But I can’t take all the credit. Synary was surprisingly good with the fillies.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Synary stated with averted eyes, and even in the darkened room I could see the tinge of red on his cheeks.

“Most of the mares at school like hard to get. One word from moi about my interest in him, it suddenly turned into a competition. ‘Who could seduce the new cute colt on campus?’ Of course none of them knew what I knew,” she looked at the colt in question to her side, giving him a lopsided grin.

“They don’t have what I like,” Synary smiled a small feeble smile, and Blossom snorted.

“Was that your attempt to be brash?” Blossom sounded bemused, throwing a toothy smile at the colt.

“N-no,” Synary replied, blushing.

“I’m glad I’m having an influence on you.”

“Wait,” I interjected, looking at Blossom with furrowed brows, “why didn’t you just come to my house to do all of this?”

“Well, on the risk of sounding malicious: to corner you,” Blossom shrugged, and I blinked. “Privacy too. There is a reason me and Synary are here… together.”

“What?” I exclaimed, shaking my head. “This just seems unreal. Why aren’t you mad at me?”

“Mad at what?” Blossom began, trailing over the bed I was sitting on top of, Synary following. “Mad at a colt I only knew for a week, who just so happened to be dating another pony alongside me? Psh, yeah, it’s not like that’s never happened in the history of pony kind ever. Tartarus, Silver! We didn’t even call each other marefriend and coltfriend.”

“A-and you Synary?” I asked the colt just as he climbed on the bed, lying adjacent to Blossom.

Synary pressed his lips together, looking down at his own hooves and then Blossom, before landing his eyes on me. “N-no. I’m just happy to have met you, even as… weird as it all was. You made my first week at school one of the best weeks of my life so far. B-but Blossom is right.”

“About what?” I asked them, and the duo shared glances.

“We have to be blunt here,” Blossom began, and I kept an intent eye on her hoof as she placed it on my left hind leg, looking between it and her with one arched brow. “Silver. Do you love us?”

“W-what, well, uh…” Nice going shit for brains, now you look like a complete idi-

“We don’t love you.”

“...Huh.” It was strange really. I mean, just hearing it out loud sort of hurt, but that sting was overwhelmingly overshadowed by relief; additionally the feeling of a weight dropping off of my shoulders. I sagged. I didn’t even know I was tense.

“You don’t love either of us too, do you?” Blossom asked, and I looked at her.

“I… no. B-but I do like you both, care, even!” I added, much to Blossom’s apparent amusement.

“I know. We know,” she patted my leg, smiling, and there was a trace of something I’d call tenderness in her voice. At the sight, I felt my chest grow warmer, a sensation that I didn’t realize until now that I missed.

“But what do we do then. I mean, I like you both. It’s not fair to, you know, choose,” I flashed a half smile, the memories of that afternoon in the classroom flashing in my head.

“Who said you had to choose?” Blossom shrugged, prompting both me and Synary to look at her with furrowed brows. “We’re all young, with our futures way ahead of us. So let's have fun! More the merrier right? I was taught to share growing up, I don’t know about you guys.”

I looked with eye as wide as saucers between the colt and filly on my bed, Synary in particular chewed his bottom lip, his cheeks reddening before he looked at her from the corner of his eye. “I was taught to share...”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I gushed, looking between them both with brows so low they threatened obscure my vision, “you’re not considering what I think you’re considering, right?”

“Sure! Why not? We’re all young, so we can afford to get a little crazy. Right, Synary?” She posed the question to the colt next to her, whose lips turned into a small smile as he nodded.

I released a nervous croak from my throat. “I still find this is hard to believe is even happening. This is almost too good to be true, you must admit that right? I’m not worth this.”

“Y-you are,” Synary interjected, shuffling a few inches forward on the bed. “You’re kind, you listen, y-you care.”

“Synary…” I replied softly, his averted gaze making me feel weary.

“Silver,” Blossom began, my name dancing to my ears delicately, and I couldn’t help but look at her. “This is something we can all share. We enjoy each other’s company, we make each other laugh, and… just feel warm inside. Me and Synary are friends, but what we had with you was more intimate. Neither of us want to lose that just because of stupid things like a ‘couple’ being just two. Let’s try being a couple in a three.”

“Right,” I replied, giving a few quiet chuckles. “Ok. Let’s give this a shot. Like Blossom said: ‘why the hell not’, right?”

“That’s the spirit!” Blossom cheered.

“Y-yeah,” Synary’s voice was subdued, but I smiled at his quiet cheer.

We all were wearing smiles. Looking at each other, our happy brand new polyamorous triangle… although if Synary didn't like mares, I suppose that’d make it a three dotted line, with me in the middle. Aside from making me feel a tad greedy, I’m also actually kind of excited. “So… now what?”

“We could celebrate,”

“What did you have in mind?”

Blossom looked to the corners of her eyes, and chewed the inside of her cheek, scrunching up her face before looking at me with slightly squinted eyes. “I just realized we never kissed.”

“What? I’ve never kissed you?” Sure I ha- oh fuck, I haven’t.

“Y-yeah,me too,” added Synary, sounding almost too afraid to admit it.

“After everything we’ve done together it’s actually kind of embarrassing,” I muttered, conceding to the undeniable truth that I was kissless, and a virgin funnily enough all things considered. “That presents a problem though.”

“Yes?” Blossom acknowledged with a tilt of her head.

“Who gets to be my, you know, first?” I spoke with fret, cringing.

“You’ve never been kissed?” Synary for some reason seemed particularly surprised by that fact.

“No. Have you?”

Instead of a prompt reply, he looked down at the sheets, cheeks still as red as they were before. “No.”

“How about you?” I asked Blossom, who as soon as the words left my mouth tightened her lips, arching a brow and looking off to the side.

“Huh,” she muttered, looking at Synary and then me with a ponderous expression, “no.”

“You’re surprised by that?”

“Aren’t you?”

Me and Synary shared a look. “...Yes.”

“Daddy calls me the ‘blueprint’ to a real mare. Apparently scaring away every colt I became even remotely friends with, thus leaving his daughter a kissless eighteen year old is worthy of acclaim,” she sneered at nopony in particular, but her features softened, looking at me and Synary with smile. “Jokes on him. Now I’ve got a coltfriend and a colt-friend.”

“And your colt-friend is also coltfriend to your coltfriend,” Synary… quipped? Hard to be sure, but it did make Blossom giggle, which is always a delight to the ears. And to be honest to myself, being called somepony’s ‘coltfriend’, and without me being the one to actually declare it is actually quite exhilarating.

“So... “ I paused, pressing together my lips, looking at my partners with an awkward smile. “How do we decide... coinflip?”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Blossom proposed with a toothy half smile, something more befitting of a rogue, and I arched a brow. “Close your eyes.”

“You’re not going to try and steal a kiss are you?” I jested, smirking.

“Of course not! Who do you take me for? I’d never do that,” she chided me, although she continued to wear that smile, so I couldn’t help but keep wearing mine. “Besides, if I did, I reckon Synary would steal something far more valuable right out from underneath me.”

“What would that be?” Synary questioned her, and I squinted my eyes as she leant close to his ear, whispering into his ear. I didn’t know what was being said, but going off of Synary’s tomato shaded face and teeth gripped lip, I’m assuming it was something intimate. “A-ah.”

“What’d she say?” I asked, looking at Blossom with a tilted expression.

“N-nothing,” he replied promptly, his tail flicked.

“Close your eyes,” Blossom interceded, leaning her head a few inches forward, “please.”

“Fine-” I conceded, closing my eyes, both of them disappearing “-but don’t do anything weird.”

With my eyes trapped shut, I listened intently. Despite how close they were I heard nothing from them, just the muted sounds of the party from beyond the closed door and outside the windows. I then felt something, a subtle little feeling on my fur at the edges of my lips. Little breaths, little exhales. I was crack open an eye, but I resisted, clasping them shut even more tightly. The longer I waited, the more I began to hear little thump in my own head, and felt tightening around my chest. Why did I feel my heart threaten to beat out of my chest, the pounding muscle so loud I could hear it in my skull… Oh, something is pressing against my lips. It was a contrast of warm presses, one softer, the other firmer. I was paralyzed, not with fear or shock, I just… was. Slowly as she goes, I began to part open my eyes, and as more of the sight before me came into view, my brows lowered into a furrow.

Cheek to cheek, pressing their muzzles unto my own side by side were Blossom and Synary. Their puckered lips were pressed against mine, and after that realization, I was tempted to pull away to laugh at the surrealist nature of it. My first kiss was with two. How many ponies could proclaim that? In other words - awesome. How long could I say like this before it became awkward? They’re already looking around with their eyes, so maybe it already hit them how odd this actually is… I’ll take the initiative.

I pulled away, looking between their neutral expressions with unmoving features. “So…”

“Yeah,” said Synary, who flushed cheeks and small smile was quite the contrast Blossom and myself, whose faces were rather neutral.

“Cool,” said Blossom, her cheeks pulling back into a closed lip smile.

“So that was our collective first kisses, so that’s pretty…” Wow, I’m ass. This was supposed to be special, isn’t this occasion usually marked by celebration or something?

“Not as hot as I thought it’d be,” Blossom shrugged, looking at me with a pursed frown, “I thought we were gonna escalate to sex.”

“W-what?” I stuttered. She’s so forward, isn’t she? I don’t why I keep forgetting that fact.

“Hey, we’ve only done one thing in a long list of ‘firsts’ between us three, so why not cross another thing off?” Her tone was so matter-of-fact, and despite the simplicity of her logic, I found myself not laughing. “Besides, we’ve escalated on less. How many dates have you had between the three of us all combined. Three? That the normal amount before-”

“Yes, yes, I know,” I interrupted, “it just seems kind of… sudden.”

Blossom frowned, looking to Synary (whose eyes shifted between her and myself), before looking back at me. “We could just make out until we’re all horny.”

I looked deadpan at Blossom, whose smile was a mere tug at the corner of her lip, and dare I say she looked smug? Well, she had every right to be, to be entirely honest. “Okay…”

Instead of a reply, she smirked, looking at the colt next to her and nodding to him. I was intrigued, and admittedly there lingered a thought at the back of my head this was all leading up to a climax that would leave satisfied and me hung upside down to be laughed at. I didn’t say a word as Synary timidly sat to my side, the contact of our sides prompting him to release a breath he had definitely been holding in since Blossom wordlessly instructed him; she mirrored him, pressing into my other side, leaving me in a sandwich where I was my own filling.

“Ok, so there’s two of us, so be sure to give us each a turn.”

“I-it’s okay, if you want to kiss Blossom more, you can…”

“No, no, no, Synary. You know what, I got to date him first, it’s only fair you get him for longer.”

“Exactly! He’s known you for longer, you deserve to have him longer.”

“Exactly to you too! I’ve known him longer, you should have him to yourself for a few min-”

“Hey, hey, I’m right here!” I interrupted, looking at both of their wide eyed expressions with creased brows. “How about instead of just timing and planning this, we just, I don’t know… dive right in?”

“Sure,” Blossom agreed, smirking.

“Y-yeah, what she said,” followed Synary, whose cheeks had predictably gone red again.

“Okay, great, let’s start the ‘making of out’,” I announced, looking between them with a large smile and…

Nothing.

“Alright, how do we start this? I lean into Synary or do I-”

“C’mere!”

Blossom hooked a hoof around my head and brought my muzzle to hers, my eyes barely having time to go wide before her tongue wormed past my lips and into my mouth, squeezing through the gap between my teeth to wrestle with mine. I felt my eyes fall close when she placed a hoof against my cheek, tilting her head, her tongue going deeper down my mouth. Her tongue battled a very one sided fight with mine, circling and twirling in my mouth. I couldn’t help but release a moan into her throat, and I heard her make one too. I could taste apples on her teeth, likelihood she partook in the cider here. She pulled away, and I was left panting, a string of spittle between my lips.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Aren’t you forgetting somepony?” She giggled, and I went wide eyed.

I turned my head to Synary, who held his bottom lip between his teeth, cheeks red. “Is it my turn?”

“Y-yeah,” I replied, gulping.

I had to lean toward him, as he seemed too afraid to meet me halfway. I parted my lips as I neared his muzzle, and he slowly parted his. I felt his breath on my lips before I connected them, his teeth already parted to accept my tongue. His tongue met mine, and encircled one another in a sort of dance, a slimy and wet tango. I mimicked Blossom, stroking his cheek, and tasted him. Mint. It was nice actually. I sucked on his tongue, and we moaned into each other’s mouths. I kept getting lost in the moment, but I retained enough of myself to remember her.

I parted from Synary, leaning toward Blossom, our lips colliding as she mashed hers against mine. I was too in the moment to care, just reciprocating her tongue’s request for entry. After repeating the steps, our tongues writhing over each other, her body began to press closer to my own. I could feel her warmth mix with my own, but despite the combining of my and her heat, it still felt cold. I parted from the kiss, surprised to hear her whimper, and I turned back to Synary. He finally appeared to unshackle himself of his shyness, and he met my lips before I had a chance to close the gap, moaning as our tongues touched.

I made out with Synary, broke our kiss, and then made out with Blossom. Their saliva mixed in my mouth like the world’s most erotic milkshake, and left my mouth tasting bizarrely of some flavor of ice cream. Beneath me, I felt my cock engorge, becoming thick as it left its sheath. I spreaded my hind legs and rose up slightly as my meat dangled beneath me, throbbing in eager anticipation of what was surely to follow this. At some point they maneuvered onto their sides, and whoever I wasn’t kissing had their mouth on me in some fashion, either suckling my nape or licking the sweat off my coat. Disgusting in any other context, I’m well aware, but their hungry lust made my cock leak pre beneath me.

A while after, I felt something fleshy and hard press into my side. Synary’s cock. He was ready, for, well whatever was to come next. His little thrusts were more akin to a grind, but I could tell he was attempting to show restraint. Blossom meanwhile, evacuated her touch from my body, and snaked them down below. I whimpered into Synary’s next kiss as my dick became almost painfully hard, desperate for their touch, or something more…

“I-I think we’re ready,” I declared, my voice shaking, out of breath.

“We’re all gonna pop our cherries at the same time, right?” Blossom asked, and for a second, I stopped thinking about pleasuring my penis… ironic really.

“How?”

“Easy.”

Synary’s breath on the back of my neck sent tingles all down my spine, and Blossom’s cunt exuded a warmth I could feel on the tip of my twitching rod. We all laid on our sides, hooves wrapped around each other, spooning. Over my shoulder, Synary pressed his erect dick against my backdoor. Admittedly, I’m a tad anxious about taking something back there, but if the stallions in father’s magazine could find something pleasurable about so can I. Meanwhile with Blossom, my cock pressed against the puffy lips of her slit, a mere inch away from submerging my stallionhood into her sex. The anticipation was excruciating.

“Ok, both of you guys, at the same time okay?”

“Right.”

“Y-yes.”

“Okay, when I say ‘zero’, go,” Blossom informed, and we grunted in compliance. “Alright. Three… Two… One… Zero!”

…

Oh sweet, Celestia I held my moan in my throat, trying to process all the feelings at once. The tight, moist, warm twat I had penetrated only an inch was truly the peak of all my pleasure thus far. Yet, Synary proved overzealous in his initial thrust, and several inches of his cock entered within me and bumped into something truly special. I didn’t know which of the two was better, but all I knew was that pleasure had rendered me paralyzed. Synary’s head pressed into the back of my neck, and I heard him release something akin to a yelp, and he pulled back his twitching cock slightly; the girthsome shaft throbbing within me made me feel strangely content, and full. Blossom’s pussy clenched around what little of my dick was within her, the virgin cunt was hungry, and it was almost as if she attempted to swallow more of my shaft with only her honeypot. Out of the three of us she was the first to do anything, looking over her shoulder to lock lips with me, another inch of me embedding within her. If it were not for the initial shock of it all, I probably would have thrust my entire length within her.

“S-stop, please. Both of you,” I requested, my jaw locked tight.

“W-what? Am I hurting you?” Synary asked in concern.

“What’s the matter, Silver?” Blossom pulled away from me, her slight bodily movements causing me to seize up.

“J-just wait a minute.”

“Why?” Blossom asked, her brow arched.

“I’m right on the edge,” I admitted, giving her a meek smile.

“Y-yeah, me too, actually.”

“How? We just started.”

“Virgin,” me and Synary said in unison, straight faced.

“Ah, right…” she paused, before giggling, prompting me to inhale through my teeth. “Right, right, sorry.”

“We’re not virgins anymore,” I stated, grinning awkwardly.

After several minutes, which was passed with small talk (as our attempts at dirty talk rendered Blossom in a fit of laughter, and Synary catatonic.), we continued. I slowly filled more of Blossom’s velvet canal, her long drawn out moan followed the pushing of my hips. I felt her walls spread apart as more of my cock filled her, the tight hole clenching around my shaft. Meanwhile, I felt Synary pull several inches of his member out of me, the thick underside of his cock brushed against my prostate, and I groaned into Blossom’s neck.

I couldn’t pull out of Blossom whilst Synary was hilted within me, and soon we adopted a rhythm. He left me, and then I left Blossom, and when Synary slammed back inside I plunged back into Blossom’s folds. Blossom was the loudest of us, me and Synary grunted behind closed lips. I don’t know about Synary, but being a teenage colt heavy with hormones, I had to give it to myself whenever I could… even with my parents in the next room. Being quiet was a necessity. So I guess now it was just force of habit.

As our pleasure increased, as did the speed of our thrusts, and the volume of our moans and groans. Synary, probably without even thinking, wrapped his hooves around my stomach; his hips colliding with my flank with increased speed and force. He was soft at mostly everything else, but here and now, he was thrusts were like punches. Fitting actually, considering my grunts. Blossom was a whole beast. She turned at some point to face me, and try as I might, when I pulled out to thrust back in she plunged down my shaft to the hilt; moaning into my mouth as we kissed.

At some point, I felt something swell within me. Synary huffed and panted into the back of my neck, not as much of his erection left my tight hole, but his thrusts were faster and harder than before. I found it harder to fuck Blossom due to the barrier of Synary, but she could do better job of fucking than I could. Under my arm and wrapped around my shoulder, she pulled herself up and down my cock, which was slick with her own honey from her pot. In the good sort of way, I was essentially being used by this point to fulfill both of their lusts. Not that I minded. I was being plenty filled by Synary, and I gained exquisite pleasure from filling Blossom.

Synary’s grip tightened, and as I broke from Blossom’s lips to look over my shoulder, he was quick to lock his lips with mine. I felt his thrusts stop, and his body went still, but his appendage certainly did not. I physically felt the tip swell within me, and a new warmness filled me. His meat swelled, and with every throb I knew what was filling me. As his meat hose pumped his cum, Blossom still kept pumping my cock out of her sex, her walls seeming to milk my entire length as she did so. She, alike Synary, wrapped her hooves tightly around me; coiling next to Synary’s.

I was close to climax. I wouldn’t call Blossom a psychic, but she appeared to know this… or she was close too, and was just impatient. She used her grip on me to effectively ride my cock, despite being lain on our sides. It was still during Synary’s afterglow that she hilted me inside of her, my tip hitting a barrier of sorts at the back of her pussy, and she practically cried; throwing her back her head and tightening her grip around me as her love canal spasmed around my shaft. Finally, it was her subtle presses around my rod that tipped me over the edge. I felt my stallionhood flare, spreading her walls despite how tightly she held me, and unload my seed into her wet cunt. It was the strongest orgasm I ever had, firing loads of ropes, my erection becoming stained with a lewd concoction of cum and her twat’s nectar. The next few minutes were silent apart from our breaths, which steadily died down after a while, but they both remained close enough to me that I felt their exhales on my neck and face. Even longer passed, and a profound realization hit me. My ass felt full, both with Synary’s dick and his seed, and my cock felt sticky. I could feel their sweat on my chest and back, and there was a distinct smell in the air…

“I know what we just had was amazing and all that. But geez, cleaning up is going to be a pain in the ass. Why did no one ever tell me about this part of sex?”

“Because it’d ruin the mood,” Blossom shrugged, cozening up close to me.

“Yeah, well, let’s hope this room has an adjoining shower. Or else we’ll be leaving two trails of cum behind us and reek of sweat when we leave,” I griped.

“We probably could. I don’t expect anypony is going be awake in the morning. You’ve seen the state of this party,” she curled her lip, looking into the corners of her eyes, as if in thought.

“W-we’re not going to actually do that, right?” Synary asked, worry clear in his voice, although I did feel him press his chest into my back; his muzzle on my neck.

“No. She just likes the attention, or at least the threat of attention. Isn’t that right, Blossom?” I asked knowingly, grinning at her.

“I’m not even going to pretend to deny it,” she shook her head, baring teeth in a half smile.

“See?” I glanced at Synary.

“D-doesn’t that make you a bit of a hypocrite?” Synary jutted with a reluctant tone.

“W-what?” I stuttered, looking down at Synary as he rested his head on my shoulder.

“T-that night in the park. That was kinda risky…” he trailed off, and despite how bashful his tone sounded, a suspected

“That’s different! I wasn’t doing it because I enjoyed it!”

“You sounded like you did…”

“Y-yeah, I mean, I was. But…”

“Well, he’s got you there, Silver,” Blossom chortled.

“You both teaming up on me?!” I exclaimed in pseudo shock, grinning.

“Nothing wrong with friendly fire,” Blossom replied coolly, and I saw her share a smile with Synary.

“Yes! Yes there is! It’s a grievous offence!”

“Be outraged later when you’re not in me, and he’s not in you,” she finished softly, closing her eyes as she pressed her head under my chin.

“Fine,” I smirked, sighing with a smile.

I planted a kiss atop Blossom’s head, and she reciprocated with an approving hum. Synary, whose angle made such a thing difficult, I simply wrapped my hoof around him and gave a tender squeeze. I did the same with Blossom, and pulled her closer to me. Their bodies were warm, and I might have been too hot, but I didn’t care. As cheesy as it sounds, the distant noise of the party seemed to fade out, and all I could hear was their breathing. I almost want to... nevermind. This moment, just here, with them. It was...

It was nice.

Epilogue: Breakfast

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