Happenstance

As much as we'd have liked to spend the foreseeable future in bed, Octavia and I had other pressing needs. Like food, water, and fresh air.

And refractory periods.

As we got changed and headed downstairs, I wondered what exactly I could do to entertain her until tonight. I imagined tourist traps in a city like this would be pretty similar to their human counterparts. That is, expensive and unsatisfying. At any rate, it would have been tedious to travel all over to see everything anyway.

However, as opposed to a one to one recreation of Manhattan, Manehattan appeared to be an amalgam of every notable place in New York. They had a big copper statue holding a torch, a particularly tall building good for little but being tall, a popular theater district known for its broad walkways, etc.

"I know you were here for a bachelor party, but have you been here before?"

I'd spent my fair share of time in New York and, oddly enough, that knowledge seemed to carry over to here. I could almost follow the crappy map I swiped from the hotel when I checked out. Almost.

"Yes and no," I answered. "I've never actually been to this city, but we've got a couple in my world that are remarkably similar."

"How do you mean?" Octavia asked in response to my admittedly weird statement.

I explained the strange similarities between our worlds as well as the locations that were nearly universally puns for human locations.

"So you've got Manehattan and Fillydelphia while we've got Manhattan and Philadelphia."

She giggled. "Oh I get it. Manhattan. That's what you call male humans."

"What? No. That's- that's not what that means."

"Then what does it mean? Why is it called that?"

"I," I began before realizing I knew little about the origins for most city names. "I don't actually know. But it's definitely not because of the word 'Man'. I think."

"Then what about 'Philadelphia'? Is 'Phil' not a human term?"

"It's a name but it's not- huh."

As we exited to the busy Manehattan streets, I had an epiphany. I'd been operating under the assumption that Equestria was somehow derivative of my own world. Yet, I couldn't make a strong case for that claim, nor could I disprove the reverse. Who was made first? Did our civilizations interact before? Did it matter?

I didn't dwell on those odd realizations. After all, I'd need to have my wits about me to avoid being trampled by a combination of pedestrians, cars, and carriages.

"So where are we headed?" I asked, hooking my arm around hers.

"I was following you."

"Alright," I laughed. "Well I'm a little hungry. How does food sound?"

She seemed pleased enough with that suggestion so I put myself on alert for anything edible.

Well, not just anything. I wrote off those hot dog stands and the like for a number of reasons. First off, I had the fortune to be accompanying a beautiful mare and I'd be damned if I was gonna make her sit on the curb. Second, I was still getting accustomed to their odd meat mimics.

There was some culture shock when I was thrust into a world of vegetarians, but I got over that real quick when I tasted their cooking. Turns out that a civilization without the crutch of meat could get pretty creative with their other food groups. They even have some almost passable substitutes in certain places, though I'm not sure who else was buying them aside from myself.

Allegedly, there were other fully intelligent species here. I've heard the words "gryphon" and "dragon" thrown around on occasion. Maybe dealing with those cultures, if they had any, allowed a bunch of herbivores to develop a taste for meat. Or a taste for the taste of meat, anyway.

That said, I drew the line at fake street meat. I don't wanna know what the hell some guy in a tiny metal cart was doing to tofu to make a meatless gyro look that convincing. I just found it unsettling.

My stomach growled and I realized I wasn't actually taking us anywhere. Still, I felt like I recognized some of the local landmarks. A sort of conical building off in the distance. A relative abundance of trees for an urban area. Something resembling a church in architecture.

"I wonder..." I trailed off, pulling Octavia with me.

"You certainly seem to know your way around for somebody who's never been here," she remarked, effortlessly keeping up with my stride.

"This might be one of those similarities I mentioned earlier. If I'm right we should be coming up on a pretty good restaurant pretty soon."

"What's it called?"

"Well, mine was called Serendipity. Yours might be the same. Or maybe it's got a pun in it. Or it could just be-"

"Happenstance?"

I glanced at Octavia and followed her eyes to a black facade with a glass-covered display showing a multitude of appetizing but probably fake desserts. Sure enough, the signs read 'Happenstance 3' and 'Restaurant and General Store' in simple white text. Save for the name and the creatures walking in and out of the doors, it was just like the one I remembered.

"Well that was easy," I remarked. "And a bit eerie."

Octavia broke from me to look through the windows. I could see her frown in the reflection.

"Now Anon, I enjoy sweets as much as the next pony. However, I think I'd prefer something more substantial for one of the only meals I'll be having today."

"They have real food too, you know." I knocked on the glass, pointing her to the menu taped onto the other side. "I'm telling you, it's good."

She gave the menu a once-over and smirked at the heading. "'Serious Food'? I like that term."

"What else would you call it? Come on."

It didn't take much more to convince her and we were soon inside waiting for a table. To my surprise, the hostess estimated a wait of only fifteen minutes. Compared to the ages I'd have to wait at the human equivalent, this was nothing.

Octavia and I sat on a nearby bench and busied ourselves by looking over another copy of the menu, occasionally stealing glances at other customers' orders. To Octavia's relief, most were ordering non-dessert dishes before resigning to their fate of eventual obesity.

A short time later, we took our seats at a tiny table and looked over the menu yet again.

"I can't decide, Anon! What's good here?"

I was having trouble myself. Despite my past experience and the time we'd spent trying to make a decision, my eyes still jumped around the page.

"Keep in mind that this was years ago and in another world, but I remember thoroughly enjoying their sandwiches. I've never tried the full salads, but they look pretty good. Then again, I'm also curious to see how they handle pasta."

"You're getting lunch? I thought it was more brunch time than lunch time."

That launched a discussion about which is the best meal of the day and whether or not time should govern which meal one should eat. Eventually, we managed to agree that, at least in the case of lunch vs. brunch, time didn't matter.

The waitress soon took our orders and menus, leaving us with little in terms of conversation topics. You know, except for getting to know one another.

"So," I said, stalling for time. "Octavia."

"Anon," she answered, staring into my soul once again. I would have felt intimidated had it not been for her beautiful smile.

The rest of her was pretty nice too. She'd traded her casual garments for a more street-appropriate button-down and pants. I had expected a Mary Tyler Moore getup complete with a beret and a coat with massive buttons, but this was good too. Still, she allotted herself one accessory to liven up the ensemble: a tiny little bow tie the color of her eyes.

It puzzled me. It was cute, of course, but I couldn't tell if it made her look sophisticated or cartoonish.

Oh who cares? I like cartoons.

But I don't like leaving conversations hanging. What do I say? Do you like bow ties? Do you like cartoons?

Luckily, she took it upon herself to pick up my slack.

"Anon," she repeated. "Would you mind if I ask a somewhat intimate question?"

Right into heavy stuff, huh?

"By all means."

"So, when you first saw me," she said meaningfully. "You didn't even miss a beat. Are ponies- er- people with my condition common where you come from?"

I laughed. "No. I don't think there are any women quite like you."

Octavia glanced away, adjusting her mane. Was that a blush?

"In that case, would you mind me asking why you reacted the way you did?"

Ah yes. The old "why did you lick my penis" question. I should have expected that one.

"I don't know," I responded after some thought. "I'm pretty sure I was straight. Am straight. But, looking at you, talking to you, I just couldn't bring myself to care."

I looked around to see if anyone was listening in. Though, we'd been careful enough with our language to avoid being vulgar.

"I guess I just like you," I continued. "Sorry if that wasn't a good answer."

When I brought my gaze back to her, she was just giving me her attentive smile. However, I noticed a little moisture behind those eyes.

"That was sweet, Anon. I-" she faltered and bit her lip as she searched for her words. "I needed to hear that. Thank you."

I held up my hand. "Not so fast. It's possible that I just happen to have a fetish for tall, talented mares that can pin me to the bed. Don't go handing out that praise for nothing."

Thankfully, that broke the little emotional moment we were having. I needed frequent comic relief to function. The wild Anon buckles quickly under serious conversation.

"I suppose that's a risk we all have to take," Octavia admitted, giggling. "After all, perhaps I'm just into shorter stallions of a different species."

"Hey now! Don't underestimate my subtly seductive personality."

"Ah, so that was it! That clumsiness was just an act to draw me in!"

"So you've finally caught on? Well it's too late! You're stuck with me now!"

We rode out the laughter from those remarks for a while, trying to think of more hypothetical circumstances that would have ruined last night and this morning. It was oddly cathartic to think of all the things that didn't go wrong.

And just like that, our food arrived. Octavia had opted for some sort of omelet with cheese and vegetables that'd be more at home on an artsy platter that left the customer starving. I'd ordered a very green and very tall sandwich that wasn't even suitable for pony jaws, much less mine.

For the record, I'd lived most of my life holding the opinion that a sandwich needed meat with the exception of grilled cheese and this place in my home town that did strange and wonderful things with hummus. Of course, these ponies had to prove me wrong with their culinary magic. This thing was stacked with fluffy leaves and even apple slices, yet it felt as filling as a steak sandwich back home.

I finished a bite that just barely didn't disassemble my sandwich and looked up to see Octavia elegantly tasting her omelet.

"How is it?" I asked.

"Excellent. I'm surprised I've never heard of this place before."

"Well, the only reason most people know about mine is a movie. Do you have a movie named Happenstance here?"

She frowned and closed her eyes, presumably searching her memory. "I don't know. I'm not exactly learned in cinema. Even musically, my knowledge is mostly limited to my own tastes." She then gestured to my meal just as I'd prepared to unhinge my jaw once again. "How is yours?"

"Good," I answered as I made to offer her my plate. She seemed hesitant and I realized that this wasn't the most convenient dish to share.

"Sorry," I continued. "I guess this isn't really-"

"No no. I'd love to. It's just- how did you fit your mouth around that?"

"You kind of have to temporarily flatten it as you bite it," I said, pantomiming squeezing a sandwich.

Still apprehensive, Octavia grasped the tower of bread and veggies, craned her head forward, and did her best to take a clean bite.

"Good?"

She gently set the sandwich down, revealing her comically stuffed cheeks and a trail of dressing running down her chin. We both started laughing and she covered her mouth with her napkin to prevent any spilling.

"Anon!" she complained after she swallowed. "Don't do that! I could have choked!"

She tried to give me a serious face, but buckled when I ballooned out my cheeks and mimicked her choking.

"Alright," she said. "Keep laughing. I'll be sure to be there next time you choke on something."

I ignored the double entendre let us eat in relative peace. However, in the silence I couldn't help but scrutinize Octavia's movements. Straightened back, careful placement of utensils, almost dainty usage of her napkin when she wasn't tackling a colossal sandwich. She was very clearly refined.

So what the hell was she doing with me?

"Hey Octavia."

"Hmm?"

"May I ask you an intimate question?"

"It's only fair, I suppose."

"You-" I paused. This could easily be misunderstood and the last thing I'd want to do is insult her. "You don't seem like the type to sleep around. Yet, you've told me about ponies running from you once they learned. That, and you and I seem to have gotten along well enough."

Octavia nodded her head to consider my words. She didn't seem offended, thankfully.

"Well, you're right about that. I've never really desired that type of lifestyle. I don't think you do either."

Looks like I wasn't the only one paying attention.

"I took this opportunity to work here so I could do a little experimenting away from home. Just to see if I could..."

She trailed off, resting her head on her interlaced fingers. I must have struck a sensitive subject.

"There's this mare," she continued. "Back home. We've been friends as long as I can remember. Best friends."

A very sensitive subject.

"Her and I- I suppose we're lovers too. But I've always wanted more." She chuckled under her breath. "It's been falling out of style recently, but I'm a fan of romance. One partner, candlelit dinners, happily ever after, all that. No one can wait until marriage these days but I was certainly hoping for it down the line."

I watched her scowl at her water. This seemed like a story that'd been on her mind for a long time without ever crossing her lips.

"But she doesn't feel the same. It's not that she doesn't care about me. I'm fairly certain she loves me too. She's just different. She wants more."

"More?" I asked.

"She's what you might call a free spirit. She parties. She stays out late. She wants to be free to do whatever she likes." Just like that, her face warmed at the thought of this other mare. "And I'd never change that about her. I'd rather change myself."

"To be like her?"

She shrugged. "In part. I want to convince myself that I can keep up with her. That I won't bore her."

"Hey hey," I interrupted. "If this girl loves you then you don't have to worry about-"

"I'm not worried," she said, smiling and giving a dismissive gesture. "Her and I will still have our relationship, however open it may be. I'm just seeing if I can do the same. Maybe get that happily ever after some other way."

I didn't know how to feel about all that. Changing oneself is difficult and I'd hate for her commitment to be one sided. Then again, she probably knew better than to trust someone who would toss her aside.

"I dunno, Octavia. That isn't the sort of thing you usually compromise in a relationship. How can you be sure you'll reach a point that satisfies both of you? And what would that happy ending entail?"

"I don't think anyone can be sure of what will make them happy. I'm just following my heart for now. As for my happy ending, I usually imagine us living together like we do now. Maybe in our apartment. Maybe in a house in some suburb. It doesn't really matter. All I really see when I think about our future is her, myself..." She reached over and drummed her fingers across my hand. "...and maybe someone else."

Holy shit.

My eyes bulged half-way out of their sockets. I tried to stall for time with a sip of my water, but it went right into my lungs and sent me into a coughing fit.

"Is everything alright, sir?" said a passing waitress.

I held up a finger to let her know I was still choking. "Oh ju-hust fi-hine," I sputtered when I could breathe again. "Great, even."

Octavia just grinned from ear to ear like she hadn't just dropped that bombshell on me. Looks like she got her revenge for the sandwich incident earlier than I expected.

I waited until the waitress walked off then looked back to the increasingly sly mare across the table.

"What exactly are you suggesting?" I asked trying to maintain some composure.

She kept her innocent face. "Nothing at the moment. Though I do want to invite you to come see my apartment when we get back. We can have dinner."

Man. If she wasn't so attractive, nice, and also my ride home, I wouldn't have to deal with this coy bullshit.

We shied away from any other sensitive subjects for a while until the waitress came by with a dessert menu. Neither of us wanted a whole dessert for ourselves, but I happened to know this place had a specialty sweet we could share. I pointed to it for the waitress and kept it a surprise for Octavia.

I was surprised by the ease at which we transitioned from relaxed chatter to personal stories and back again, but I guess it was only natural. I mean, we didn't quite know one another before becoming rather intimate. We had a lot of joking and discussing to catch up on.

"So what do you want to do after this? I know the deal was that I'd entertain you but, other than eating and shopping, there's not much to do around here."

Octavia frowned. "I was under the impression this city was filled with notable monuments."

"I mean, sure. We could go see a tall building or big statue or whatever. I was just never all that impressed when I saw them. But if that's what you want, then you just have to say so."

"You may have a point. In fact, historical sites may bore me even more than you. I spent approximately twelve years of my life repeatedly learning about all of them after all."

"Ha! I guess that's another thing our species have in common. Tedious history classes."

"At any rate, I'm sure we'll find something to do if we wander around. At the very least, I'll get to hear a bit more of your commentary."

"If it'll keep you happy, I'll run my mouth as long as you like."

Surprisingly, our server came to the table after we were done speaking. She brandished a plate holding a large, overflowing mug topped with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. She placed it between us with dual straws pointing at our respective faces.

"Enjoy!" she said, laying the bill on the table as well before leaving.

I waited for Octavia to taste it or at least react to it, but she sort of just stared.

"Uh, are you gonna try it or...?"

"It's just a drink?"

Just a drink she says. Like they served these every day in her school's cafeteria.

"Fine then. I'll have some first. Are you afraid it's poison or something?"

"Nothing like that," she said as I sipped slowly from my straw. "I just expected something a little more from a 'signature dish' in a place like this. I mean, those cakes out front were about as tall as you!"

The cool beverage washed over my tongue along with some harder granular stuff. Come to think of it, I wasn't actually sure what that stuff was. It may have been ice or sugar or whatever. I liked the taste so it was fine by me.

"Just like I remember," I said with a sigh.

"You're not listening."

"You wouldn't either if you tasted it."

"What even is it?" she asked, poking the whipped cream with a spoon. "Coffee?"

I grinned. "It's their signature Frozen Hot Chocolate!" I said with as much flourish as I could muster.

"So it's hot chocolate?"

"Frozen hot chocolate," I corrected. "You gotta say the whole thing."

She rolled her eyes at that one but leaned in to try it anyway. Her expression brightened slightly soon after, presumably when she began to taste it. However, just as I thought I'd won her over, she recoiled and started chewing.

"What is it?"

"It's crunchy!"

"It's Frozen," I corrected again. "Never mind that. It's good, right?"

I could hear the stuff crunching in her mouth from across the table. Her grimace wouldn't go away.

"Well, aside from feeling like sand, I suppose it at least tastes good. However..."

What "however"? What's wrong with a chocolaty drink? She didn't even have any whipped cream.

"...Isn't it just chocolate milk?"

The ambient chatter of the restaurant cut off as though someone had fired a gun. I shut my eyes, but I could still feel the eyes of the crowd on us. A couple ponies dropped silverware, only emphasizing the surrounding silence.

"W-what is it? Did I say something wrong?"

She started to hide her face when she noticed her words echo through the quiet room.

I stood with my gaze affixed firmly to the floor. I placed a couple bills on the table walked away, motioning for Octavia to follow. She soon shuffled up behind me and took my hand as we left.

...

"What was that about?"

We'd escaped the stares as soon as we made it out of the doors, but I shushed her attempts to speak until we were a block away. Couldn't be too careful.

"Just a massive, humiliating faux pas."

"A faux pas?! Over chocol-"

I reached up and clamped my hand over her mouth. "Frozen. Hot. Chocolate," I whispered. "They are very sensitive about it."

Octavia gave me a flat look and pushed away my hand. "And I suppose I should be on the lookout for assassins now? For my 'disrespect'?"

"I mean, I'd steer clear of that street from now on if I were you," I answered, making an ominous face.

She rolled her eyes and pushed me, but I still got a smile out of her.

"So the culinary mafia is after me? What will they do? Poison my food?"

I scoffed. "Of course not. That's against their principles."

"And knives are right out too, I'd imagine. They're for food after all."

"Correct. Devoting one's life to delicious food leaves little room to serve up revenge. Cold or otherwise."

We continued to ponder how a violent chef could honorably destroy someone that'd crossed them as we wandered around Manehattan. Luckily, there was plenty to see.

Now, I'd pretty much always hated shopping. Memories of unending trips with my family and chaffing in the changing rooms have already ruined retail therapy for me. However, I'd never experienced looking at clothes and overpriced trinkets with someone who could be almost as jaded as me.

I followed Octavia through the doors of some strange wooden facade that was very much out of place in this concrete jungle. Immediately my senses were assaulted by a combination of crappy incense and the B.O. of ponies that thought soap was a hoax.

I made a mental note to ask how ponies stick it to "the man". Do they just say "the stallion"? That sounds stupid.

I looked around at the merchandise and was disappointed. It looked like one step below "trendy" middle school fashion. Tattered jeans, stringy tops with weird frills hanging off the hem, vaguely tribal-looking footwear. Actually that last one was kind of interesting. They were like socks with horseshoes attached. I could have seen them being popular if the material didn't feel like straw.

"What the hell is this hippy bullshit doing in Manehattan?" I asked, reading the label on one of their garments. Thankfully, it was made with "violence free" cotton.

Octavia laughed and turned back to me sporting a feathered headdress. "Your guess is as good as mine. Does this make me look culturally insensitive?"

"Hey, it's not my culture. I won't tell."

We soon found that this shop had more than just trashy clothes. It also had trashy knick knacks.

"Who would ever buy these things?" Octavia asked, picking up a polished rock from a display. "'All Natural Mana Gems'. Ridiculous."

"Well I'm glad they're all natural. Who knows what the government puts in those disgusting artificial mana gems."

"Probably real magic."

"Wait what? Those are real?"

"Of course they're real. Skilled unicorns can store magic in certain crystals and talismans to replenish their energy. I've seen them. These, however," she paused, twirling one between her finger and thumb. "Have nothing."

Damn. Even in a world filled with magic, hippies believe in fake magic.

Octavia bent down to check the other shelves, humming something lovely. After everything, I'd almost forgot she was so good with music. It wasn't the song from last night. This was faster with more energy. Would she be singing this tonight?

"Oh goodness, Anon. You're going to love this one. Let me just..."

She trailed off, shoulders jerking around probably to untangle some poorly made doodad from the others. Then the rest of her started jerking around as well and I became acutely aware of her sizable rear in the middle of my view.

It seemed I'd been neglecting a good portion of her physique. Most importantly, I had yet to take note of the tail poking out above her pants. Of course she had a tail. All ponies did. And hers was just as beautiful as the rest of her. Soft, almost shiny, free of any apparent knots. How do you tell someone you want to feel their tail?

Focus, Anon. Lowly mortals such as yourself don't get to see something like this every day. Something like this stunning Amazon shaking her gorgeous ass in front of you. Appreciate this.

"Anon?"

Okay maybe stop appreciating it for a second.

But the damage was done. Her sharp eyes peered over her shoulders at my dumb ogling face. I heard the clacking of whatever she was about to show me falling out of her hand as she stood.

"I guess something else has caught your eyes." She walked over to me, her predatory grin once again upon her face. "Care to share?"

And as she loomed over me, I was once again faced with the sheer difference in our sizes. "I'd, uh," I stammered. "I'd need a mirror."

Octavia snorted and the intimidating glow in her gaze faded. She hooked her arm around mine and led us to the doors. "I swear, it's getting easier to fluster you every minute."

"Because it was such a challenge before? Besides, how could you tell? I'll have you know I'm a very meek person."

"I can tell because your quips get less creative. You didn't even try to lie to me."

Ouch.

"Why would I lie about that? I'm not ashamed."

"Oh?"

"Don't you 'oh' me! You've got a nice ass!"

"Anon!"

It was then that I noticed we were passing the cashier who stood motionless with his mouth agape. I could recall doing something much worse last night without feeling even a bit of remorse. Chalk that one up to the lovely effects of rum I guess.

Back in the present, I was almost mortified. That is, until I noticed his red bloodshot eyes that weren't following us to the exit.

Right. This was that type of store.

As we emerged into the beautiful overcast Manehattan afternoon, Octavia gave me what she probably thought was a playful bump with her hip. The only thing keeping me from flying across the block was her arm around mine.

What a gal.

"So long as we're being honest," she murmured, leaning down to talk into my ear. "I suppose you've got a nice rear too."

"Aw. You're making me blush. You know you're the only one to ever say that to me?"

"I think I'm the first to do a lot of things to you," she growled playfully. "Keep pushing me and I might be the second too."

"Why, Octavia! I do believe your intentions might not be entirely pure!"

She gave me another hip check and dragged me a bit harder, keeping me at an awkward fast walk with her lengthy stride. Seemed like she'd be leading us now. Fine by me. Lead the way you goddess, you.

...

So much for more sarcastic browsing. All it took was one high-end display case and suddenly we were clothes shopping. Well, she was clothes shopping. I was the unhelpful second opinion and pack mule. I couldn't even get any good anecdotes out of the trip since Octavia was so engrossed. Hell, I even threw her some softballs like "you know they have the exact same stores in other places" and "how do you even go clothes shopping on a trip". But she just shrugged them off and asked if her newest pick looked good on her.

Yes. It did. Everything did.

Still, the shopping spree wasn't completely useless. First, I finally played the role of the bored male following his female companion around a shopping district with boxes piled above his head. Second, I learned that Octavia either won the lottery recently or was living quite comfortably. The thought of anypony affording all that overpriced nonsense on a whim made my head spin.

"What time is it?" I grunted, my hands far too occupied with her numerous purchases to check my phone or some wayward clock. "It's gotta be seven at this point."

"Try two," she answered from ahead. "You know I can carry some of those as well. No offense, but they may be less of a burden to me."

"No! I have to do this. Television said so."

I imagined she just shrugged at that one, but all I could see was the boxes and their artsy logos on the sides. I bet they were funny puns based on human stores too. If only I knew any human clothing brands aside from Gap or whatever. What would that one be? Gallop? No. It needed to be one syllable. What horse terms sound like "gap" with one syllable?

While I contorted my mouth trying all one syllable words beginning with "ga", I felt a cool drop fall onto my head. I looked around and found some other pedestrians holding out their hands with confused expressions.

"Was it supposed to rain today?" I heard Octavia ask.

I readied myself to say something about unpredictable weather, but then I remembered that ponies did not predict that sort of thing. Rather, they dictated it.

Octavia came to my side and began tapping away at her phone.

"So what are we in for?" I said. "Light drizzle? Sun showers?"

She shook her head, cringing.

"Hotel?"

"Hotel."

...

I don't like to take multiple showers in a day. It's supposed to be bad for my skin or hair or something. That might only be really important for women with long hair or when taking extremely hot showers. I'm not really sure.

However, at the moment, I was considering going against that little preference of mine. Shortly after Octavia and I decided to return to shelter, the pegasi above decided to dump their cloudy payloads on the city.

It was cold. The kind of cold that wasn't gonna go away if I just changed clothes. And boy did I want to change my soaked clothes. Hopefully my phone wasn't bricked.

Not all was glum, though. After all, I got to see Octavia with her mane all wet. She was even wearing white.

We stumbled through the hotel to the elevators, now sharing the load at the expense of my pride.

"Well we must look a sight," Octavia exclaimed, dropping her boxes so she could wring out her hair. "I should really check the weather more often."

I followed suit and began stripping my outer garments. "I meant to ask about that. You ponies have completely accurate weather reports but you don't check if you'll need an umbrella in the morning?"

"You're here too you know," she said, smirking at my undoubtedly uncomfortable face. "Why didn't you check?"

The doors opened and we stepped out towards her room, leaving a trail of dirty street water on the nice clean carpets.

"I happen to be an idiot," I proclaimed proudly.

We laughed our way into the room. Upon entering, a blast of frigid air chilled both me and the water still clinging to my clothes. Octavia must have subscribed to the "if I'm not paying for it, blast that AC" school of thought.

"That was a nice little outing," she said as we dropped our boxes by the door. "For the most part."

"I'll admit, that last bit wasn't exactly on the itinerary. Mind if I change?"

She was already down to her underwear beside the bed. "I think the time for modesty has passed, Anon."

I still turned away to search my luggage for some backup clothes. "For some reason, I feel like ogling here is a bit inappropriate."

"So it's only okay when I'm bent over in public?"

"That was just taking advantage of an opportunity. This feels more like violating privacy."

Just as I undid my belt, a couple of soft hands grabbed my waist and tossed me onto the bed.

Deja vu.

"Was it something I said?" I asked, dazed from the impact. As I backed into the headboard, my vision came into focus on Octavia crawling onto me.

"In part," she murmured almost nonchalantly into my ear. "You did promise to help me pass the time."

I shuddered at the feeling of her lips along my neck. "Already?"

"What? Don't try to tell me you're not in the mood. You haven't exactly been subtle."

A nervous chuckle escaped my lips as I tried to eye her lower half. "Believe me, I would love to. But, uh, I'm not sure I'm prepared for another round like last night just yet."

"Who said it had to be like last night? If I recall correctly, you've got some working equipment yourself."

I imagine I looked like a deer in headlights. A baby dear. In the headlights of a monster truck. A very sexy monster truck.

"Are you sure about that? I mean, if you're used to someone close to your size," I said as I felt a familiar hardness on my thigh. "I'm not sure it'll be very, uh, satisfying for you."

Octavia pulled back to smirk at me. "That's new. Stallions don't usually admit that sort of thing. Don't they usually mention something about 'the motion of the ocean'?"

"'Ocean' is a little generous."

"I'm sorry, Anon. But I plan on returning the favor."

Well that was that I guess. My supply of willpower to spurn a beautiful woman's advances were officially dry. My hands found her waist, my lips found hers, and there was nary a hint of a long, unnecessary soliloquy.

"Ah, there you are," she hummed, falling into my lap and somehow not crushing me under her weight.

I could feel her squirming against my crotch through my boxers, but looking down only afforded me a look at her massive pride bulging comically out of her own undergarments. Once more I was reminded of how silly this little role reversal could be.

"But look at me getting ahead of myself," Octavia chastised, pulling back once more. "No need to dirty any more clothes."

She dropped to all fours, still astride me in my seated position, and began a mesmerizing display of removing her underwear. Though it succeeded in captivating me, I couldn't help but feel unworthy as I clumsily followed her example. Helpless inexperienced idiots must really get her off.

She fell back onto me, arching her back rather impressively to match the curve of our bodies. I listened to her breath grow heavier as I nipped at her collar bone. I felt her hips wiggle as I fondled her backside, marveling at the plushness that gave way to unbelievable firmness when she flexed her legs.

"You -mnh!" Octavia grunted. "Where does this confidence come from? One moment you're like a flustered teenager and the next you're- mph!"

No clue, Octavia. But I was pretty happy with the outcome thus far.

She dragged her body along mine, letting me drag my tongue down her chest and midsection. I couldn't taste a hint of sweat from the day's travel on her body. Just the faint taste of her that'd gotten me love drunk last night. Maybe it was her magic.

Her hand pushed on my shoulder, preventing me from tasting any more delicious Octavia for the moment. And just when I was getting to the best part, too.

She must have noticed my disappointment. "Perhaps I wasn't clear. It's your turn, Anon," she said, leaning back against my knees. "Let me take care of you."

I got a tantalizing view of her cock once again as she gradually lowered her rear onto me. I briefly felt the silkiness of her tail before my modest length was fully buried between her cheeks.

"Are you alright?" she cooed, wiggling her hips. "You seem flustered again."

"What gave it away?" I stuttered through clenched teeth. I must have resembled a sweaty, gasping tomato at this point. And she was still just teasing me. Things were looking grim for my composure.

That is, until I noticed her decidedly heavy breathing and lack of a predatory grin upon her face. Perhaps things were getting to her too?

"Then let's get started since you're so eager," she bluffed if her flushed face was any indication. I slid down her shapely rear until I was poking up behind her sack. I met wetness with my first tentative thrust, telling me exactly what else I was dealing with down there.

"You've just got it all, huh?"

Octavia smiled down at me, biting her tongue. "I will once you give it to me."

With that, she began her slow descent onto me. I gasped at my first prod as though I'd just touched a hot stove. It wasn't just surprising warmth and tightness, though it had certainly been a while since I was on this end of sex. No, there was electricity arcing between us. Or at least some tingling. Was there anything else her magic could do to me?

Stop asking that, Anon. Just go with it.

To my relief, her rather pleased face put to rest my concerns about this little meeting being one-sided. Either she was feeling a fraction of my pleasure or she was a damn good actress. Not like I'd be hard to fool.

Well, assuming she was being honest, how could I press that advantage? Adding my own motions would do more for me than her. Given her position and my mere human strength, I couldn't very well sit up to hold on. What to do?

I idly traced my hands along her hips, the answer coming to me just as she finally fell into my lap.

"That's it," Octavia said in a breathy, shaky voice. "You just lie back and enj-oy oh!"

I don't think I could ever get tired of interrupting her like that, turning her biggest asset into a target. In one swift motion, I pulled her cock down to me and fit whatever I could into my mouth. My tongue went to work exploring her cockhead, desperate to taste every exposed surface.

"I thought I told you to-"

Nope. None of that. If it was my turn then I'd do whatever I damn well pleased with her. As punishment, I hugged her rod close and began sucking on the tip.

The effects were immediate, her normally sharp eyes all but rolling back into her head in response to my assault. The powerful body that'd so dominated me before fell into a heap onto mine.

I lamented taking so little of her into my mouth, disappointed that whatever magic that'd reinforced me before wasn't letting me unhinge my jaw or crane my neck farther forward. Then again, my two-way stimulation of her two sexes seemed to be doing its job despite my shortcomings.

I looked up from her cock to find her head thrown back, limbs trembling and chest heaving. The ball was definitely in my court. Balls.

That's when her head snapped forward to face me, revealing a familiar crazed expression and more than a few hairs out of place on her otherwise coiffed mane. Without breaking eye contact, she gently dragged her hips upward and slammed them back into my lap, putting an end to my short stamina break.

A shock traveled through both of us, her walls squeezing around me while her cock twitched within me. I heard her let loose a squeaking moan, head thrown back once again. I couldn't help but note how her voice sounded more feminine than last time. I guess it fit considering our roles at the moment. Although, the only reason I wasn't squealing along with her was the meaty cockhead in my mouth.

Despite that burst of activity, Octavia failed to begin any sort of rhythm after her bold thrust. She seemed almost out of breath already, either unwilling or unable to continue. Well, I wasn't exactly the picture of composure myself, but I still had control of what I needed.

My hands squeezed and wrung her pride, drawing all sorts of lovely noises from the goddess atop me. God, I couldn't get enough of her voice. Maybe with practice I could make her sing.

Well, as much as I admired it, her equipment made for a poor instrument. My first experimental squeeze drew a single sharp gasp while my second caused more of a shuddering exhale. Varying the placement of my tongue gave me similarly inconsistent results. So much for my literal skin flute.

I couldn't bring myself to be too disappointed, though. After all, I was finally getting the unrestricted access to her that I was denied last time.

Christ, when did I get so obsessed with this thing?

My constant service started to take its toll on my jaw, fatigue building much like it would at a particularly slow dentist. That is, it was until her twitching member deposited a small reward onto my tongue. The indescribable flavor washed away my aches while somehow slicking the tip of her cock further.

Lubrication was all well and good, but I knew from experience how difficult it could be to draw more of that out of her with my mouth alone. I would need to redouble my efforts to get any more encouragement like that.

"An-nngh!"

Or would I? As her grunt truncated my name, another throb expelled some more lovely Octavia into my mouth. Before I could understand what happened, the pattern continued with another cry and another drip. Just what was I doing differently this time?

I tried to decipher some more of her vocalizations to no avail. For better or for worse, she never got very far into a word before devolving into gibberish. Now I was all too happy to be receiving such praise, but I prefer to know how and why things like this happen.

The half-formed words themselves offered no help, but their frequency grew more regular as we went on. Who would have guessed that the musical mare would moan and twitch to a rhythm?

So what was I doing? As far as I could tell, my hands and tongue were moving more or less randomly around her cock. It was my first time in this position after all. Yet, the same steadily rising melody continued to pour out of her mouth. I could almost hear a regular percussion in the background counting the beats.

Percussion?

Oh. I'm actually a moron.

I rested my hips for a moment and the twitching did indeed stop. As did the metronome of her ass on my lap and the breaks in her moans. I got so caught up in trying to suck her off that I forgot I was thrusting up into her as well. I really stopped thinking about my own pleasure. This new addiction was getting scarier every time I fed into it.

"Too much," she panted, pushing herself upright. "Can't-hah-hold on."

"Then don't," I shot back, momentarily pulling my mouth off of her.

"I told you it's-"

I launched my hips upwards with all of the strength of an average, winded human. Luckily, it was enough to shut up an equally overwhelmed pony. She fell forward this time, just barely catching herself on the headboard. Her shadow washed over me, limiting my view to her toned abdomen. Though I could no longer see her face, the closer sound of her heavy breathing and the heat radiating off of her body told me exactly what sort of mess I was making of her.

The twitching resumed with my thrust, harder this time. It nearly flew back out of my mouth the way it was moving. She was definitely on the edge and I intended to keep pushing.

I traded consistency for speed with my bucking, drawing an arrhythmic cacophony of noises from her. It wasn't long before the attempts at speech faded leaving only her wordless song.

This was certainly satisfying, but there was no way I could keep this up for long. Both in terms of stamina and stamina. It was only thanks to my short attention span and newfound oral fixation that I lasted this long to begin with. Now that I was actually aware of my lower half instead of just hers, my time was limited.

This must have been what she felt last night. The intermittent squeezing as proof of your partner's pleasure. It was reassuring. I could see why she was so insistent that I kept coming for her.

I heard a telling gasp from above. Octavia pushed herself upright and grabbed one of her breasts, falling fully onto my lap. Immobilized by her weight, I had no choice but to let her ride this out at her leisure. At least in part.

I kept her cockhead in my mouth where it belonged while I kept up with my stroking. A slow wave seemed to pass through her rod while her climax approached. The shaft grew slightly thicker while her head swelled and stretched my jaw. Through adrenaline or the constant stream of pre flowing out of her, I felt no pain.

Her expression tightened along with the rest of her until I saw her finally reach her peak. For a split second, her face relaxed and her half-lidded eyes stared through me. With a flex of her strong but shaking legs, she finished off the last of her resistance.

I took no small amount of pleasure in her cries and jerking movements. Knowing that I managed to put this powerful creature in such a state without losing control myself was just primally satisfying. I briefly wondered if I would be able to draw out her pleasure like she did mine before.

Then I tasted her.

The pole I'd been worshiping pulsed and let loose a volley of cum into my mouth. Most of it hit the back of my throat with nearly uncomfortable force but I could feel a strand land on my tongue. This wasn't like before. It wasn't the vague, nebulous essence I'd been chasing. This was concrete. Real.

Salty. Sour. Sweet. Thick. Hot. Overwhelming.

Just like that, I tumbled over the edge with her.

I only vaguely felt my own climax. Just a muted throbbing while my body was preoccupied with that influx of heaven in my mouth. No resources for pleasure. Get that stuff in me now.

It's a good thing the swallowing started automatically. Octavia's next shot flooded every space not currently occupied by her pulsating cock. And the next. And the next.

No good. Her output felt like it was doubling with every throb. I'd need to pick up the pace if I wanted to take all of this in.

Soft, strong hands fell onto my face. Briefly, I thought she might be offering me some encouragement or gratitude for pleasing her. But then her grip grew stronger.

She didn't pull me all that far. Fractions of an inch, maybe? It didn't even feel particularly straining on my neck. But it was enough to redirect Octavia's ongoing climax directly down my throat.

I couldn't really lament her bypassing my tongue; I had quite a bit of creme de Octavia still ballooning my cheeks. Plus, the desperate sounds she was making implied this was a bit better for her too. Help yourself, lover. It's not like I could stop you like this.

I mentally reciprocated her pleasured groans, relishing the feeling of her love flowing endlessly into me. I could almost hear it pulsing, periodically pressing harder against my lips. So many shots in and she was still accelerating.

I felt a bizarre sense of deja vu as my stomach grew tight. Considering her past performance, it was entirely possible she'd overfill this end too. Or maybe I'd swallowed enough magic to take her absurd orgasm in its entirety.

Hopefully it was the second one. I wasn't too keen on vomiting. It would kill the mood.

As her roaring climax continued, I felt my eyes fluttering shut. Probably a combination of my long-faded orgasm, oxygen deprivation, and a very full stomach. As my neck went limp, it seemed I'd be passing out again. This probably wasn't good for my health.

But before I could settle down for another nap, Octavia's grip on my head loosened and her cock popped out of my mouth, allowing my body to carry out all the appropriate responses to being suffocated. You know. Swallowing, coughing, gasping. The usual.

While I returned to the world of the living, I watched my lover slowly lean back as even her monstrous strength left her. After leaving its second home in my mouth, her member snapped back against her abdomen, landing a rope of cum up to her chin on its way. The rest caught the underside of her breasts.

Even though I didn't quite manage to maintain dominance, I still allowed myself a small amount of pride for bringing Octavia this kind of pleasure. Enough to leave her slack jawed and panting, still erupting all over her magnificent body. Pretty good for a human pinned to the bed, I'd say.

Without any more stimulation, her throbbing finally weakened and Octavia finally joined me in the afterglow. Just the sound of our steadying breaths filled the room. It probably smelled of sex too but I was probably just accustomed to her scent and taste at this point.

In the silence, I started to wonder if anyone had heard us. I could convince myself that normal ponies in neighboring rooms were probably asleep during our first escapade. I could not say the same for this rainy afternoon.

Well, they would have knocked if they wanted us to stop. Not that we would have heard.

Octavia let out a final sigh before leaving my lap, letting her head fall next to mine. She seemed to study my face for a moment then smiled, pulling me by the chin for a quick peck.

While I was there, I thought I might as well clean her up a little. Much like how this little session began, I traced my lips down from her chin to her neck, licking up what she managed to shoot past her chest.

Yeah I know I said I was full. I liked it.

"Well, you seem to have held up your end of the bargain," she said, giggling at my attempt at aftercare.

Ah yes, I forgot. I was technically obligated to entertain her all this time.

Sucker. I would have done it for free.

I swallowed. "Is it that late already?"

She craned her neck to look past me, presumably to a clock on her nightstand, and shrugged. "Late enough. Well done."

I wondered what "late enough" might mean. Then I tried to decide how I felt about "well done" as feedback after sex. Then I stopped thinking about all of that as Octavia drew me into her arms.

"Mmm," she hummed, pressing my face into her chest. "That skin of yours feels nice."

That's right. Everyone in this world was probably accustomed to fur-on-fur what with the lack of any native hairless apes. It was easy to forget that I was about as exotic to her as she was to me.

Although, considering I was currently being smothered by a mare drenched from the tits down in her own cum, I was likely in the lead as far as new experiences were concerned.

I freed my head from the soft confines of her breasts to check on my partner. Her eyes were closed and she'd already sank deep into the pillow. She seemed intent on drifting off into an afternoon nap while I played the part of her teddy bear. Frankly, I didn't want to sleep at the moment. Still, the warmth of her body and the strong arms holding me implored me to reconsider.

"Hey," I whispered to disturb her as little as possible. "Isn't napping without an alarm kind of dangerous?"

Octavia opened one eye and sighed. "How diligent of you." She raised herself to a seated position with one arm, holding me in her lap with the other. "My set doesn't start until rather late this evening but I can set an alarm if you'd like."

While she leaned over to her night table to fiddle with the hotel's alarm clock, I found my pants hanging over the headboard and freed one of my arms to grab my phone.

"I got it," I said, twisting until I sat with my back to her. "When do you need to get up?"

"Never mind that, Anon. You've got nearly twenty messages. Is someone trying to get a hold of you?"

Sure enough, I turned my eyes toward the screen and found a plethora of notifications waiting for me from within the hour. Luckily, instead of some family member, the contact read "The Boyz". I assure you I did not name it that.

"It's just the guys from the party. I bet it's just hangover complaints or something."

I was only partially right. There were a couple concerning a missing wallet and swearing off of alcohol forever, but upon noticing I wasn't reading the chat, one of them asked where I went. They quickly came to the consensus that I was killed and started a chorus of various forms of "RIP Anon".

Octavia snickered behind me but quickly caught herself. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me to read those. It's just, your friends seem quite interesting."

"Yeah, I bet a therapist would find them absolutely fascinating."

While I was reading, one of them must have noticed my icon appear on the app indicating I was caught up with the messages.

"He's alive! What happened last night, dude? You ghosted us."

I started chewing my lip, thinking of some kind of response. There was a sort of minimum level of irony to be maintained in the group chat. I'd need a sufficiently clever answer to not be called a bitch.

"Is something wrong?" Octavia said into my ear. "You just didn't follow them to the bars, right?"

"Yeah, but that's not funny enough. I've gotta catch them off guard somehow."

"Off guard? I think I can help with that."

She held out her hand, asking for my phone. Now, normally I'd be put off by that sort of breach of privacy. But I don't think Octavia and I had many secrets left between us.

"Knock yourself out," I answered, handing it over.

She proceeded to navigate to my camera and pull the sheets over both of us.

"Lie down facing that way," she ordered, releasing me from her lap.

I did as I was told and, after a little shuffling, heard the telltale shutter sound.

Looking pretty pleased with herself, Octavia pulled me back onto her and presented her work. She'd angled the camera such that she was visible from the nose down with the bed sheets just barely covering her chest. My form was visible in the background, appearing asleep. Text stretched across the bottom of the screen reading "Don't worry, boys. I'm taking good care of him."

"Jesus Christ," I exclaimed, laughing and shaking my head. "I can't send them that. You're half naked."

"I'm completely naked, Anon. But they can't see who I am, nor can they see anything important.

I had to hand it to her, that picture would definitely catch them off guard. Still, it felt like the sort of kissing and telling that I usually avoided.

Regardless of my reservations, I was relatively helpless as she hovered over the send button. When she heard no further complaints from me, she finished the job and returned my phone to me.

Almost immediately, the chat was inundated with "YOOOO!" and similar exclamations. I decided to mute it and deal with that aftermath later.

"I didn't know you had this kind of exhibitionist streak," I said.

"Is it really exhibition if you're the only one that really saw everything?"

I couldn't argue. My head had just about caught up with my body's fatigue and I was much more receptive to the idea of a nap. With the alarm set, Octavia carried us both back under the covers, once again clutching me like a security blanket. Caught between a bed and a very soft place, I let the sounds of rain on the window and her breathing above my head lull me to sleep.