The clanking of pipes beneath her trailer and the jerky rattle of the hot and cold knobs, and water splattered out from the old shower head and onto her head.
The pipes beneath her trailer clanked, the hot and cold knob rattled jerkily, and water splattered out from the old shower nozzle onto her own head. A measly little trickle that soon turned into a gush of lukewarm water with a coppery taste to it.
The pressure was down again, telling her that she needed to go fix it at some point.
A hungover and hazy pair of cerise eyes zeroed in on the walls of the shower. Tired achy breaths filled her sore lungs as the remnants of her ‘last encounter’ washed off of her body and spiraled down the drain.
The dissatisfaction and hollow feeling inside her filled her more than he did.
She felt sick to her stomach… and for once it wasn’t the booze she drank.
Another rough day at her junkyard trying to sell something for a decent sum led to her drowning her anger in booze like she usually did, the sale had gone sour and she was cheated out of the money she needed. And while at the bar, a brief hope of meeting another stallion like she had the other day lingered in her mind but it was quickly dashed when one half decent looking one walked up to her and offered to buy her a drink.
Of course, this ended about as well as she might’ve expected.
Sloppy.
Fucking sloppy.
He moved like he had never touched a mare in his life, his lips smacked against her cheeks and neck like he was trying to eat a sandwich. Jerky movements, poor timing, and he was loud… louder than she would have liked, moaning and groaning like he was already climaxing. And the ‘finish’, if you could call it that, was horrible: he pulled out and ended up showering her in a few thin strings of cum that she was dutifully washing off of her body.
Why? Why was she having such shit luck lately?
This wasn’t even the first lay she’s had since the week started, and all of the stallions she had ended up bringing back were just…
One was so drunk out of his mind he couldn’t even get it in, another was so timid he passed out before she could even try, and the one before this stallion was even more pathetic! She couldn’t even get herself turned on…
Was it just her luck? Was this week destined to just be so shitty for her?
A tired huff escaped her and she rested her head against the wall… that hollow feeling only grew worse over time with each stallion she tried to fuck. Unsatisfying, disappointing, pathetic, disgusting… how they acted, how they moved, how they smelled.
“Ugh!” She punched the wall and growled to herself. Fucking… She swallowed the lump in her throat.
She needed something…
A few minutes passed and after feeling somewhat clean, Delta turned off the shower and stepped out to dry herself off.
Seriously, was it so hard to get a decent fuck nowadays?
Just a bad week.
She reaffirmed after stepping into her bedroom, tossing the now used towel onto the floor with a snort. The smells of her previous encounter made her sick to her stomach… and a desire for a cigarette grew.
Where the fuck is my pack?
A cursory glance around the room and the pack wasn’t seen, even a quick check of her distinct tank top revealed nothing in the front pocket. An annoyed grumble and she searched through her room for the missing pack. She went into the kitchen and rooted up a few things, but only found some discarded food, empty beer cans and unwashed dishes. Delta flipped over a few things and found a cigarette box, but it was empty! Only torn up leaves remained inside.
She only growled and kept looking.
Just one smoke, a half burnt cigarette… something to take her mind off of the annoyance of her recent bout of fucking… if one could even call it that.
“Grr!” She went back into the bedroom and plopped down onto the floor.
A poor fuck and now her smokes were gone? Was it so much to ask that she have one good thing happen to her today? She looked under some discarded items, a few overturned boxes of fast food, a shirt she barely wore.
Finally she looked under the bed, maybe it had fallen under…
Aha!
There it was, a small white box! She reached under and grabbed it with a grunt, quickly pulling it out with a declaration of, “Got ya, you little shit.”
Once it was pulled out she glanced at it, her victorious grin suddenly fading…
This wasn’t her box of smokes.
It was all wrong, the brand, the colors… it wasn’t a bad brand so to speak, it was anything but. It was one of the more decently expensive brands, probably a few bits more than the usual ones she smoked. She smoked Fetlocks, a pretty decent brand and ones she had to splurge on unless she went for Mareboros instead.
But these? The golden trim, the dark colored box and the gold embroidered text on the front… these were Hoofports, she had only ever had one… she had bummed it off of a stallion she met. The taste was something she had long forgotten and she could never really splurge enough to get them… Fetlocks were her usual one, easy to get and cheap.
Which meant that she never bought them… so where did this box come from? None of her past romps ever smoked, let alone smoke anything this decent.
A curious flick of her ear and the world fell silent around her… she gave it a questioning shake, causing something to rattle inside, she opened up the pack and found three of the tubes inside alongside a couple of crushed up leaves settled in the bottom.
Slowly she brought up the pack and pressed her muzzle to them, she inhaled gently… the rich and smoky scent filling her nostrils causing an involuntary shiver to run down her spine and causing her tail to flick around her rump. “Mmm…”
That smell…
These were his smokes.
He must have dropped them during our fuck. Delta figured… they were pretty rough, rougher than what she was usually going for, but by Luna’s icy tits did she love it.
A hoof drifted to her neck… the bite mark he left still lingering on her mind and making her involuntarily lick her lips as she began staring into the pack, her eyes drifting across the three tubes inside.
No wonder he smelled so…
Hesitant feather tips reached into the pack to slowly pull out one of them, almost as if she was afraid she’d break it. Once it was out, she took a look over the small cylinder; it was thin with the Hoofports name printed above the dark brown filter. Right above the name was a gold strip, probably for looks more than anything.
She found her box of matches after a moment and held it up…
Did she really wanna smoke one? She was craving a smoke right now and in her hoof she had a pack with three Hoofports in it. They’d go to waste otherwise…
A few moments of thought ended when an image flashed across her mind’s eye…
Bright amber eyes, like whiskey.
She suddenly felt parched.
“These would go great with a drink…” But she didn’t have any… she did have a few bits left over from her recent—and shitty—transaction, enough to blow on a six-pack of booze…
Or a decent bottle of whiskey.
It was settled.
The mare slipped on her tank top and searched for her bits, after finding the pouch she ended up spotting the jacket.
His jacket.
Once again she found herself hesitating as she looked it over, the almost uncomfortable silence focused her hearing on her heartbeat… which was weirdly moving faster for some reason. She thought about him, how she ripped his jacket off… threw it onto the floor before he worked his magic.
She picked it up off of the bed and glanced over it… the faint scent of him still lingering on the fabric, buried deep within the threads. Delta slipped it on over her tank top with ease, the slightly oversized jacket sitting over her withers comfortably. She wiggled and adjusted it until it fit better and grabbed her things, shoving the pack, matches, and bits into the jacket’s front pocket before setting out.
Delta had a date with a liquor salespony.
000 - - o/ . \o - - 000
A quick flight into the town nearby brought her to the local liquor store, one she swiftly entered with practiced movements. The smell of tobacco wafted about as a bluesy song played on a nearby radio, presenting the atmosphere befitting a southwestern liquor establishment sitting out in the desert.
She gave the counter worker a grunt of acknowledgement as she began her search… she had a few bits to work with, not as much as she would have liked, but enough to get something to go with her Hoofports.
Delta ventured into one of the aisles, several cases of imported booze and locally brewed crap she’d spent money on to try. Some decent choices, but not what she was looking for. She needed something that tasted good, went down smooth, something… amber…
She shook her head. Guh… why can I stop thinking about this guy? He was just a stallion! Just like every other she’s met, nothing special.
He just lingered on her mind and her body, not something that she could easily bring herself to forget.
The jacket, the smokes…
Those eyes.
Just a stallion was what she told herself, he was just another fuck for her… something to relieve the stress and maybe have a little fun while she was at it during a bad week. What was so special that he stuck to her like a bad hangover?
Except when it came to most hangovers, she didn’t want them to stay.
The glint of whiskey bottles broke her out of her thoughts and she wandered over to them on the shelves nearby.
Something was better than thinking about him… regardless of how it made her feel.
A wide variety of whiskey was for sale, dark brown and amber colored bottles holding the precious liquid within. Big bottles, small bottles, thin and wide, some with fancy labels and others simple.
She had only ever bought it on the rare occasion, usually opting to spend her hard earned bits on something cheap but that tasted good and got the job done. Sometimes she felt like she needed a smooth burn and she bought a nice whiskey.
And here she was again doing just that, but this was to go with her smokes, with… his smokes.
There was nothing as good as a nice paired cigarette and alcohol.
A shimmer of amber reached her eyes and she found herself looking over to a a few bottles. A quirk of her lips and the mare walked over to them, cerise eyes soon locked onto what she found.
There was a single bottle left, nothing really special looking either… but the color, a distinct amber hue that made her pull the bottle down to gaze upon the black label and the name written upon it.
Celestial Royal.
It was a decent sized bottle, maybe enough for a dozen shots or so if she was being generous with how much she poured. This was also assuming she didn’t just pop the cap off and drank straight from the bottle.
Her mind didn’t seem to register much of the bottle except for the color, the light that shone down from the one dusty light bulb flickered above caused the amber to shine.
Haven’t had this before.
She tucked it under a wing and trotted up to the counter before placing it on the aged wood.
“Anything else, Delta?” He asked her after bagging it up and ringing up the total cost.
Should she be proud or disappointed that she’s in here enough that the merchant knows her by name?
“No.”
Was her reply as she dug through her pouch for the amount of bits needed. She just wanted the bottle so she could go back home.
After paying for it she tucked the bottle in her jacket and exited the store without another word, flying back home through the cloudless sky. Guess it was going to be another dry week in the desert.
The day was just getting started for many ponies from what she could tell, businesses were opening up, ponies moving out into the town… meanwhile she had a bottle of booze she planned on enjoying back in the comfort of her caravan.
First his jacket… now his cigarettes, Delta thought about the bottle she had tucked under her jacket. Damn it, what is wrong with me?
She asked herself this the entire flight back.
Why was he on her mind so much? Ever since that night he drifted back into her mind on seemingly every occasion: during work, shower, even when she got with another stallion. She had managed to forget him a couple of times, but anytime she wore the jacket or even looked at it he came to mind.
What was so special about him?
A few minutes of pondering and she landed outside her caravan, some dust was kicked up and she walked over to the door and headed inside without a second thought.
He was a mind blowing fuck. Delta thought as she set the bottle on the table and sought out a glass- preferably a clean one. A… a really good one. She couldn’t deny it no matter how much she tried, even if she wanted to deny it in the first place.
That stallion…
Sitting down in the booth now she began opening the bottle, the cap popped off and she inhaled the scent… it smelled divine, delicious even as she poured it into the glass about half full. Setting the bottle aside she pulled out the cigarettes and slid one out.
Now or never…
Gently placing the tube between her lips, she pulled out the matches and struck one, a flash of fire and the brief pungent smell she was so used to filled her nostrils. She brought it closer and lit up the end of the cigarette, the fire burned away at the paper…
She inhaled deeply, bright embers lit up at the end.
And Delta could smell his scent again, that powerful smoky scent and taste filling her mouth with such a rich sensation. She breathed deep, holding it…
She exhaled, hoof resting on the table and laying next to the glass. She looked down at it and picked it up to take a sip and it wasn’t long before the sweet amber liquid hit her tongue and rushed down her gullet.
Damn smooth.
The combination of the Hoofports and the Celestial Royal was… rich and satisfying, it was a sensation that ran through her body from head to hoof and filled her with a warm feeling that grew in her belly. The corner of her lip was tugged upwards and she sighed, slowly setting the glass down, the only other noise that filled the caravan being the dull thunk against the wood.
Cerise eyes glanced into the glass at the whiskey.
And suddenly her world changed with the mixture of smoke and alcohol, and she was staring into those bright amber eyes once again that sat across from her.
Delta was sipping the booze she had bought for the two of them. The mare was quiet as she trotted up, putting down both glasses and sliding into the booth in front of him. The exact dialogue they had shared alluded her, but the memory of that night was clear to her… well, clear enough that she could make out more of his face.
He was handsome, at least by her standards; a rugged chiseled face, bright amber eyes staring through his messy mane and capturing her own cerise ones, his soft lips were tugged back into a small smile and moved as he spoke to her.
The memory of how comfortable she felt came to mind, usually she was just there to try and win them over, gauge how they acted and maybe see if they were interested in a fun time.
At some point he pulled out a cigarette, the same one she was currently smoking as she thought back to that night. She saw the box but it didn’t register to her until just now; Hoofports. The smoke filled the air around her with a rich smoky scent, one she found herself drawn to.
That night was different for her in so many ways; he spoke to her in a soft baritone that sent shivers down her spine and stared into her eyes the entire time… that was another thing she remembered. He never avoided direct eye contact, his were always on hers the entire conversation.
She vaguely remembered the topic of booze coming to mind, he chuckled something and ordered them a drink. It was strong from what she could remember, something good. She couldn’t pay for it of course, but who was she to pass up free booze when he offered?
A few drinks and some friendly smoking, she found herself liking how he handled his liquor… also helped he had good taste.
Her heart rate began to spike when she realized she was sitting next to him now, she was working her moves and so was he, she grinned at him and he returned it…
And then they kissed.
Her eyes snapped open and she remembered her offering to take him back to her place after a few more stiff drinks.
The memory ended… but the night they had spent together came flooding back in greater detail, his movements were more fluid and his voice like butter…
The cigarette was clenched between her lips again as her eyes stared into the bottom of her glass.
What the fuck is wrong with me. She wondered as her heart skipped a few beats, what the hell was this feeling in her chest, tight and familiar, a fleeting feeling that didn’t leave and she couldn’t quite place it.
What was so familiar about it?
Another inhale of her-no, his cigarette and she tasted him, smelled him. Most stallions smelled like sweat and sex, but he smelled like smoke, the very same that she was suckling down like a foal to a teat.
This is so stupid, just some dumb stallion and he’s been on my mind like a fucking cru-… She stopped, eyes growing. No… that’s fucking stupid, no way! She clenched the cigarette a bit tighter in her lips.
The pieces fell together inside her mind like a puzzle, hidden and long buried gears deep inside began to turn and squeak after so long of being unused.
Delta Vee…
“I have a fucking crush on him…” She groaned out, slamming her head against the table, “Celestia damn it.”
As she let her head lay on the table, unmoving for a few moments, one thing became clear to her.
There was a bright side to this whole thing. After all the confusion and restlessness, she had finally solved the mystery.
The downside of it all? No way in hell was Delta even remotely ready for something like this.
How would she even begin to deal with this?!
She groaned again.
“I need another drink…”
