A Melody of Sweet Nothigness
Alt
I don't know her name or where she lives. I don't know where she works or if she has a place to call home. All I know is that I met her at midnight, the slick street awash only in moonlight as the street-lamps were out, but I could still recognize the silhouette of a mare's body, standing in the high-beams of an on-coming car.
I'd just shut the door to my apartment when I saw her standing in the street, unsure if the sight was even real as I bolted down the few steps to the pavement, standing in disbelief that this was really happening. Night has this tendency of inflicting an otherworldly sense of reality, where you're trapped in this strange world—one you could never hope to communicate in the light of day.
I snapped myself out from my thoughts to see that beams of light had grown brighter, that the car down the streets was accelerating forward once more past the green light, that the mare still stood deathly still. My mind tried to ponder how this could be happening before me, but my body—my savior on the force—flung itself forward, bolting towards the street.
The intense light blinded my eyes, and loud honking deafened my ears. Something collided with my chest, warm and soft and wet, and I held it close as we both barreled through the air. The blaring horn stretched down the street, a few skids making themselves known to the winds. Then my back collided onto the sidewalk, taking the hard impact as the mare crashed into my soft belly, and from that moment on, we heard nothing more from the distant car.
My gaze lingers down the street, nothing but thick darkness at its end. I sighed, then look down to the mare entwined in my forehooves—never before have I held someone so close to me. At the same time, I've never quite saved a life like this before either.
I slowly uncovered my forehooves from around her neck, exposing her charcoal fur to the moonlight. The mare looks at me with her violet eyes, both distant and confused, and suddenly, I'm out of breath, though I cannot pinpoint the reason why.
I stare down at this mare, questions exploding inside my head. There's so much I want to ask her, of her name and what she's like, what she'd doing out at midnight, drenched in the rain and standing in the middle of a lane. I wanted to ask, with a face as cute as hers, why she looked so perpetually sad.
In the end, I asked the mare a single question. "Why?"
The charcoal mare shifts in my gasps, drawing her belly against my own, slowly climbing up my frame. Her face hovers just above my chest, her violet eyes almost glowing in the night, framed by long black eyelashes. Her muzzle becomes closer to my own.
I panted, and yet, she did not struggle to breathe. This mare answered my question in a way I could never expect, in a way I could hope for only in my wildest of dreams. The stranger cut the distance between our lips in but a second, and just like that, I could taste cinnamon.
My eyes were wide as my forehooves retreated outward, a show for both myself and passersby that this was all of her doing. I didn't even dare kiss back, though every inch of me demanded that I do, as never before had I felt lips as delicate of hers. They nuzzled against my own, agape by an inch, wanting something more.
My hooves shook, my body trembled, my mind unable to think. I felt the mare kiss again me again, her lips meshed against my own as she put herself into it, and just like that, I could taste this mare's sadness. My body became still as I kissed her back, forgetting about the brothers known as reason and logic as I gave in to the surreality of the scene.
Finally, after a few moments, her lips pulled away from my own, and I felt her muzzle brush against my throat. Her body trembled, so I held her close, idly stroking her mane as I gazed down the streets. They were empty, and we were alone, bathed only in moonlight, the streets slick with rain.
"Save me." I heard her say, causing me to look down, but she hid her face against my chest. "I'm a mess that can't help herself. Please, save me."
I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do! I could only look up, feeling droplets hit the end of my muzzle. The sky above roared the news of an oncoming storm; at least that was something I could save her from.
"Let's get you off the streets," I said, lifting her slowly by the barrel, but her hooves only wrapped around mine in response.
"Don't leave me!" she said, voice muffled by my fur. "I don't want to be alone in the dark agai—" she promptly sneezed, repeatedly, each one tiny and cute. The mare shook her head once the affair was over, her dark strands of mane breaking into the air.
Without hesitation, I awkwardly slipped off my long green jacket. My magic took hold of it, flapping it in the air, before letting it fall on the poor mare's back. She twitched at the sensation, looking up at me from under the green covers.
"My place is just across the street," I said, slowly disentangling myself from her hooves. "It's warm and toasty inside, and we can get you nice and dry. Maybe even talk if you're feeling up to it?"
The mare stares at me, her violet eyes peering into mine like she's searching, trying to find something deep inside of me. The contact lasted for a few moments, interrupted yet again by one of her sneezes. Her body began to shiver.
She then nodded her head, standing up on her own four hooves, as I go to do the same. For the first time, rain pelts against my back, but I don't mind, feeling the warmth of her body press against my side, relying on me for support.
So we go, and return to my home.
"Look...you don't really want to be doing this," I said to the mare, who laid on my couch. In my magic, I floated down two alabaster cups to the glass table, each filled with steaming hot coffee. "I get that. But at the same time, you have to think how confusing this all is to me." I sit down in the chair opposite to her, propping my arm on the rest, and placing my face against my hoof. "You don't have to tell me everything, just the small stuff you're willing to let go."
The mare has never broken eye-contact me, at least, in the times where she can help it. I placed a towel on the couch and wrapped another around her, letting her rest and become dry, a fireplace crackling just to the right of us. I had hoped she would begin to talk as I made us our drinks, but silence is all I heard from the mare.
So to hear her voice, eloquent yet fragile, gave me a jolt that no cup of coffee could muster.
"You wish...to learn more of me?" the mare said, her expression still sad, but now slightly surprised.
"Of course I do," I said with a nod of the head. "I wouldn't have asked you otherwise."
Her head dipped, and she appeared to think. Then she gazed at me once again. "Do you ask to know of why I stood out on that street, or do you ask to know of who I am?"
It seemed like a trick question, but her face told me otherwise. The way her eyes peered into mine, it was like they were always searching for something, something they couldn't find no matter how hard they tried, yet they kept searching anyway. I thought about her question, looking out the window to my left as I did so. I saw the street where we had met, the rain still pelting down, though it could have been slick with something red.
Then I looked back to the mare, thinking of the enigma of her identity. At this moment, what mattered more to me? The facts needed to complete the case? Or to attain the knowledge to comfort this victim.
I yanked on the cord to the blinds, drawing them to a close. "I'm asking to learn more of who you are. You don't have to talk about the street if you don't want to,"
The mare looks at me in silent wonder, and I can't help but feel like I made the right choice. The mare begins to sit up, her long mane draping along her back, as her shaky brown hooves reach for the white cup. "What of me do you wish to know, then?"
"Your name." I was quick to say, my tone almost pleading. "I've been dying to know this whole time."
Then she smiled; my heart was never the same.
"Octavia," she said, bringing the cup to her lips, blowing on the liquid. "Octavia Melody, if my full name is what you desire."
It was.
"Octavia," I said, almost savoring the word. "It's a beautiful name, just as beautiful as yourself. Quite fitting too, given your cutie mark."
Octavia's head tilted, and her eyes narrowed by an inch. The implication took a few moments to set in for me, but when it did, it had my cheeks blushing red. I raised my forehooves in surrender. "Not that I meant to look back there! You're just beautiful and, my eyes kinda wandered, I swear I didn't mean to check you out on purpose!"
Octavia's violet eyes widened. "Y-You think I'm pretty?"
I blinked. The wasn't aware of how gorgeous she was?
"Of course," I said, keeping my voice tame. I leaned forward and picked up my cup. "You're beautiful, from your body to your voice, that my first thought upon seeing you out there was what a mare like you was doing out so late."
Her eyes flitted down the liquid of her drink, peering at her reflection. "It's been a while since someone has last complimented me so."
"More stallions would," I said, leaning back in my chair with my drink, "if they weren't afraid by that sad look in your eye. It makes you seem so fragile, that if they say the wrong word, you'll just break apart—not many of us are willing to risk such a thing."
I tried to laugh, but I didn't get so much as a giggle in response. Octavia kept staring at her reflection, still searching for something, and I couldn't help but look into my own cup and begin to do the same. All I saw staring back was a tired and confused stallion—one that just wanted to do good. I took a sip of the coffee, hoping it would help me do just that.
"You're a musician then, eh?" I said, lowering the cup from my mouth. "You play in a band or anything like that?"
"I used to," she said. "Even went to school for music." Finally, she giggled, but it held none of the joy a giggle was supposed to have. "Music, you could say, was my life. It was the road I trod upon, furthering my education and revealing more of myself to me, connecting me to fellow souls and getting me my shows." She titled the rim past her lips, drinking the burning liquid, seeming not to mind the pain.
Octavia drank back half the cup by the time she was finished. She looked at me and panted slightly. "Music was my everything, and I became nothing when it was taken away."
I sipped on my coffee if only to hide that fact that I didn't know how to react. I kept my eyes on hers, always, letting Octavia see that I hadn't stopped listening—that I cared about whatever she had to say next. When we had kissed, she'd been able to communicate all that felt through the act, and I felt the depth of her loneliness, of her longing.
I wish I just kissed her back faster, so she'd know how badly I wanted to assuage all that seemed to plague. I'd just met this mare mere minutes ago, knowing only of her name and nothing else, and yet, my heart already belonged to hers.
Either I was extraordinarily romantic or really desperate.
"There came a time where I could no longer craft a melody," she said to me from the couch, slowly lying forward, putting her cup back on the table. "In just one day, the music left me, as did everyone else. Music was what made me special, what gave me my friends and my purpose, and in a single day, it all went away."
"Musical block?" I ventured, hoping I hadn't gone too far.
"Something to that extent," she said, pulling on the towel on her back to over her head. "It took my life away, my school and my work, a disappointment never to return home. I've played my harp on the streets since then, living off what I can."
"I'm....I'm so sorry, Octavia," I said, putting my cup back on the table as well. "I can't begin to imagine how all of that must have felt."
"It was never hard living on the streets," Octavia said, the hue of her eyes the only thing visible underneath the towel. "It was thinking that always did me in. On what life was supposed to be like after the music, what I was supposed to do. Do, I now detest that word."
You keep silent, but you make the show of hooves for her to continue.
"Ponies always expected me to do something to keep them around," Octavia said, her tone now bitter. "Work hard in school to keep mother proud. Keep practicing with friends for them to consider you the same. Make music worthy of making you a student at a prestigious school."
She shook her head, and just like that, her anger dissipated, and sadness took its place on her face. "The moment you stop doing is the moment the world stops to care. Your worth is based on your ability to do—nopony will take me as I now am."
"But I did," I said, the words coming out on their own. "I don't know who you are, and still don't to an extent, yet I risked my life to save yours. I've even brought you to my home."
Octavia shifted from underneath the towel, slowly rising as my words rang true. "You are unlike the rest in this world," she said, now sitting up on the couch. "Why do you care? Once you know me fully, of why I did what I did, will you still care afterward."
I didn't even need to think. "I would."
"How could you be so sure?"
"Then never tell me," I said, leaning forward. "Tell me nothing of your past or why you were standing in the street. Play me no melodies and sing me no songs. At the end of each day, even after a day of nothingness, that couch is yours for as long as you may need it."
"But...why?!"
"Because you are cute," I said, deciding to be honest with what I felt, "and you are sad, and that makes me want to help you, to do all that I can, even if I may not quite understand why. You are a mystery I wish never to solve."
Octavia stepped off the couch, and I did the same from my chair. We slowly walked towards each other, eyes locked and mouths shut, unsure of what was to happen next. Before I knew it, we were standing before each other; she had to crane her neck slightly to look up at me.
"All that you have ever said," she said to me, her face no longer sad. It was something else...hopeful, maybe? "I want you to prove it. That what you have are guanine feelings and not just mere words."
I was going to ask her how before the answer became clear. The drapes were drawn, but even then, moonlight filtered onto her face, her delicate features making my heart go mad, as I suddenly knew what I must do. Without wasting another second, I bent forward, and took her lips against my own.
She didn't fight against my advancement. In fact, she kept still, allowing me to act however I pleased. So I put my all into my kiss, the passion I felt for her and the love I possed for her beauty, meshing my lips against hers.
The sensation was beyond bliss. Her lips were delicate yet plush, feeling every inch of them against my own as I pressed even harder against them, raising my hoof to the back of her head just to bring her closer. Octavia complied, letting herself being pulled against my chest, and a few moments later, she began to kiss back.
I tasted her. I tasted Octavia. Her lips gave way to her tongue, mine then doing the same, as we explored each other mouths. Her hooves wrapped around my neck as best as they could, feeling her coat grind against my chest. Light moans floated through the air. Who's? I couldn't tell you.
We began to touch each other more and more, hooves rubbing down the lengths of one another's body, as we slowly began to walk forward. Ever since I'd met this mare, it seemed like she was searching for something, and when that search turned up short, she consented to giving it all up. But now, as I held her against me, I don't feel a mare who's searching anymore—I feel a mare working at what she wants.
We reach the couch, and ever so gently, I lean my body against her own, pushing her to the couch. She consents, lying down on her back as our lips remained locked. We continued for a few moments longer, before finally, our mouths break apart, mine hovering an inch above hers, both panting from the long affair. I'm so horribly confused at the moment, but I can't for the life of me seem to care.
"Is that enough proof?" I said, placing my hooves on either side of her body, sinking slightly into the couch as they support my weight above her. "That a stranger can love you without needing you to do anything? That he'll still kiss you even without a sweet melody?"
Octavia moaned, wrapping her forehooves around my neck once more. "Your words..." she panted, "they're backed by genuine feeling, but feelings come and they go. My friends said they'd support me through the block, helping me once and never again."
I claimed her lips once again, nibbling them, before leaving them be. "What must I do to show you my dedication?"
Octavia looked up at me, her eyes glowing even more. Her face no longer looked sad, just heated and excited, almost as unsure as I was on where this was going to happen next. "I like you," she said, letting her hoof fall from my neck to my cheek, caressing me there. "The first moment I saw you, I liked your face, and when I realized that it was you who had saved me, I felt as though I needed to claim you then and there."
Her hooves came to my shoulders, pushing, not away, but down.
"If you would have this failure," she said, pushing me down the length of her charcoal body. "Then she would love to have you." And just like, her thick tail flicked out of the way, revealing the pussy it had been hiding. "That is, if you're dedicated enough to put your feelings into motion."
I peered up at Octavia's face from the expanse of her underbelly, my expression unsure. "I'd be more than delighted to have a mare like you, a mare so beyond my reach. But we've only just met, are you sure this is what you want?"
"I don't know you," she said, "and you don't know me. This act will prove once and for all that we had a love for each other, based upon nothing, that drove us to the closet two ponies could become. We'll come to reveal ourselves to one-another eventually, but this will be the proof that'll console me for the rest of eternity."
I wondered how a mare of such beauty ever came to be so insecure. Octavia was so unique, quite unlike myself, that she was made for more and the world had just shot her down. That anyone would let her reach this stage befuddled me even now, though I hoped through this act, and weeks of helping, I could help her find her hooves once again.
But for now, I settled my gaze on her lower lips. I hovered my own just before them, and, in taking the plunge, meshed my lips against them. The rest of her body squirmed at the contact, but I brought my forehooves to her hips, keeping them still enough to do my work.
I pulled my lips away from hers. I let my tongue prod out from my mouth, and then, began to lick up and down her slit, each pass making her folds wet with my saliva. The small shivers she gave off made me smile, though that smile became a grin upon seeing what was now popping out at the top of her lips. It was Octavia's clit, looking as though it needed the same attention.
I was more than happy to comply.
I took her nub in my mouth as though it were a cheery, tasting just as sweet as one as I dragged my tongue across its surface. Another moan, another indication of a job well done. My lips began to suckle on it as I brought one of my forehooves to her folds, sliding up and down the slit. Soon enough, her pussy had become slick—and not just in my saliva.
I pulled back to admire my work, the sight of her wet, tight pussy driving me slightly mad. I had felt myself growing hard during the act, but when I looked down, I saw my cock at full mast. I placed my hooves back on the couch and slowly hover Octavia's body, coming face to face with her once more.
"I'm ready for this," I said, feeling my cock glide against her thighs. "Without any regrets, I will make this bond with you. But if you're unsure, if you want to wait, I don't mind pulling out the stop here."
"No!' Octavia said, wrapping her hooves around my neck, pressing my face against the coat of her chest. I inhaled, the scent of lavender was about her. "I'm sure about this." She loosened her grip, letting me back up to her face. "I want this to be with you."
"Okay then," I said, pushing her body forward so that my hindlegs could come up on the couch. I brought the tip of my cock to her entrance, letting it sit there for the moment. "I promise to be gentle. Are you ready?"
She nodded her head. Then she kissed me once more, and I gave in once more, pressing my cock past her folds just as my tongue enters her mouth. My cock slid into her hole, splitting apart her walls as they accept my girth, feeling her cry into my mouth—I only kissed her only harder, trying to quell as much as the pain as possible.
I thrust my hips forward, my shaft entering more of her cave, the walls splitting apart. Another cry, but we're almost there, as I made the final push. My clock slid all the way in, and I sigh, letting her lips go, as I pant above her.
"This is it," I said in a whisper, a smile about my muzzle. "This is where it begins. Are you ready?"
Octavia rocked her hips upward, the base of my shaft now being suckled on by her folds. "That's the hard part is out of the way," she whispers up into my ears, supporting herself using my neck. "Now's the fun part."
I slid my cock out from her chamber, her inner-walls clamping to keep me from leaving, though it only makes the sensation feel all the more better. I pull my hips back, leaving just the tip of my dick past her folds, before ramming my cock back in—using the forward motion to claim her lips. We wrestled tongues as her walls clenched on me once more, but before either one could take hold, I pull back once more.
I kept repeating the monition, ramming my cock into her tight pussy and then claiming her other lips. I felt myself growing close, closer and closer every-time I heard her sweet moans, but suddenly I felt the dynamic shift as she pulled my neck onto the couch.
In one swift movement, I was now the one lying on the couch, and she was the one riding mine. Her ample posterior sat on my thighs as my cock was deep inside of her. Octavia looked at me playfully, her lips in a grin, as I finally got to see a side of the mare that was alive.
"You were so slow," she cooed, lifting herself up a good number of inches, then slamming back down, hard, against my cock. "Figured you need a mare like me to take charge. You don't mind—" she leaned forward as her inner-walls clenched harder "—do you?"
Trying to speak under both pressure and pleasure was near impossible, the words strained as they left my mouth. "N-Not at all."
Octavia pulled back. "Good."
She lifted herself again, her ample plot colliding against me once again. I brought my hooves to her backside, copping the fat of her ass as she gasped at the touch. She rolled her hips forward, making me gasp in turn. This somehow had turned into a competition, and I was all game.
I began rubbing circles on her ass and watching the flesh jiggle, making her giggle. I pinched it, only for her to rock her hips forward and backward, my fully erect cock not nearly flexible enough for those maneuvers—but Celestia did it feel great anyway.
I began to slap her ass. Of watching her cutie-mark ripple from my impact, though it seemed Octavia was getting used to my ministrations, riding me without any inflections. A pressure was building at the base of my shaft, but by the way, her inner-walls undulated around my cock, I knew she was just as close as I was.
Octavia began to buck me faster and faster, riding my cock harder and harder, and I finally gleaned what her strategy was—just fuck me harder so I would come first. Well, two could play that game.
I brought my forehooves to her side to bear some of her weight, and with my hips now free, and I began to thrust upward into her slit. She moaned her loudest, not expecting an intrusion of my own violation, but she went straight back to humping.
We began to get in sync. By the time she was falling, I would rise, our thighs hitting their hardest against as my cock rocketed into her pussy. We get doing this, over and over, her walls clenching tight and tighter, until Octavia leaned forward.
"I'm ready," she said.
"As am I," I replied.
We fucked our hardest, and in one last mighty thrust, we came at the same time—my shaft bottoming out inside her. We both moaned, our back arched in pleasure, before I fell back onto the couch, and she collapsed onto my chest.
We stayed like that, panting softly into the night, my arms still around her. I held her close, summoning a blanket over-top of us with my magic, as I felt sleep soon upon me. My cock was still inside her, but for whatever reason, she had neglected to take it out—I wasn't opposed to the idea of leaving it in.
"Octavia?"
'Yes?"
"Thank you for coming into my life," I said, feeling like I'd stolen the words from her. She didn't say anything to that, other than giggle and rubbed her nuzzle underneath my chin, where she then promptly fell asleep.
As I held this beautiful mare close to me, whose identity was still a mystery, I can't help but feel I've found a fellow soul. That I didn't have to prove to be anything just to have her love, and for her to know that the sentiment goes both ways. I knew not what would come of our relationship or living argument, or even if I would be able to get her back on her hooves—but all those were fears of the morning, things to be done later.
For now, all I had to do was sleep.
All I had to do was dream of Octavia Melody.
