Am I Confused?

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?”