I was being dragged through the bushes by the end of my hoof, almost too quick to follow. I stumbled and stubbed my toe against a stone. Leaves whacked me across the side of my cheeks, and the searing stinging caused my eyes to water as I was dragged further away from the open air into the undergrowth beside the street. “Wh-Wait—” I croaked, “Dinky, where are you taking us?”

“Shhh...” She spun around to press a hoof to my lips, shushing me as she did so, and then giggling like a school-filly as she turned back around. Her tail flagged high, giving me a brief glimpse of her marehood, and then down with a sultry, teasing sway of her hips. “You’ll see,” she whispered, “Just a little bit further...”

I gulped.

My cheeks were beginning to burn red—now not only from the bruises I’d obtained, but from something else—I could feel my little colt starting to get excited underneath me, poking its head out to kiss the cool air in the shade of the trees. Dinky had been like this ever since we’d ditched class together and I just couldn’t figure out what it was she was planning.

Never-the-less, against the better of my judgement, I swallowed and tucked my tail down. I held her hoof tight, grasping the picnic basket under my wing, and was tugged off the beaten trail and between the trees, into their encompassing embrace.

~ ~ ~

We came to a tiny clearing away from the open and Dinky let go of my hoof. It was only then that I realised she was blushing as well, and that she could only go a few steps each time without giving me a glance over her shoulder. Her step had a slow, sultry sway to her hips as she did a little trot, inspecting the perimeter before settling into a stance in front of me, her eyes narrowed, and a half smirk on her lips.

I swallowed again. I licked my lips, tasting the dry air in my mouth to clear my head, all whilst trying my best to keep my mind away from the second head poking between my legs.

Dinky looked over me. She seemed to be inspecting me, quietly, in the seconds that followed. My eyes followed hers as they flicked to the ground, and then back up to my face, a shallow blush joining her cheeks. Did—Did she just look at—My blush flourished as my colthood did a little nod, as if to confirm my answer.

My ears, and my wings twitched, feeling erect as the air started to thicken. It was getting difficult to hold the basket and I attempted to cover my pride, but Dinky didn’t make any response, instead turning sideways and lighting her horn as she whispered to me: “I found this place yesterday when I was helping my mom with the deliveries,” she said.

The basket moved, and I instinctively released it from under my wing—breathing a sigh of relief as its weight was relieved off my back muscles, though quickly stiffening my muscles as the feathers, now freed up, burst to full erection behind me.

Dinky continued. Ignoring my excitement, she pulled a checked red and white blanket from the bottom of the basket and proceeded to unfurl it, spreading it on the ground in front of me. “It’s out of the way,” she whispered over her shoulder as she worked, “It’s hidden, and not many ponies walk this way on account of the Everfree..”

She finished straightening the blanket and then levitated the basket to the ground on the side, pinning the corner where it was. She then lay herself down on top of it, rolling onto her flanks as her horn dimmed, and offering a glimpse of her lips, clear and puffed out, red.

She winked, and a string of clear fluid that leaked out of her dribbled to the blanket below, forming a darkened wet patch before I had the presence of mind to avert my eyes.

I felt a throb run up the length of my colthood and the heat of the moment was starting to rise to my head—It felt like I’d been running a marathon. My heart was racing, and my head was swimming as I trained my eyes to the ground below—pebbles and fine sand formed mounds around my hocks where my hooves sunk to the soft dirt—and yet I could still hear Dinky’s soft laughter.

“Oh come now, Rumble,” she cooed, coyly teasing me from beyond the edges of my vision. I could practically see her smirk as she said the words. “It’s not like this is something you haven’t seen before.”

My ears swivelled and I felt like I was about to turn into a tomato with a mushroom underneath. My stomach churned. “H-How-d-“

“I know what you’ve been doing with Kettle outside of art club, you know...”

“Bu-Wha—“ My wings flared and I bolted upright, ready to tell Dinky off, but the words caught in the back of my throat in an instant, choking me when I saw what it was she was doing.

Dinky had flattened herself out onto her back. Her legs were spread, with her tail laid flat and out of the way on the blanket. She had a sly, thin smile as she locked eyes with me, staring not at me, but at something much...lower as her magic worked to coax the edges of her hood open for me to see inside.

“... I want you to do the same to me,” she said, almost forcing the words out with a choke. Her expression softened for a minute and she glanced aside, as if having second thoughts. But just as soon as I’d seen it, it was gone, and she was back to looking at me with a pleading gaze. “Please...”

My mouth opened slightly. My jaw worked like it was trying to figure out the right words to say. What could I say to this? When Dinky invited me out to play hockey I was expecting a roller rink, not—Not something like this!

I started a step back, trembling slightly as I did so. My balls were beginning to ache and I could feel the sweat leaking from my head. Yes!, my colthood wanted to say, but my head was telling me something different. Run.

“A-a—You’re in that th-that thing—H-heat?”

She nodded. A hint of shame flashed on her features, and her magic paused, retracting from her ministrations. “...Maybe,” she said, almost too quiet for me to hear, “I-It’s my first time...”

“I-I don’t know”—another step back—“if this is a good idea,” I said, “What if I—inside you—and...?”

Her eyes widened. I saw a bud of pink flesh emerge from between her folds—her wink flicked for a moment, pressing a fresh layer of sweat to the blanket below. She fidgeted uncomfortably and put a hoof down, then lifted herself up closer to a sitting position, though still with her teats and mound on clear display. “W-Will you... pull out?”

I nodded half-heartedly, though my hooves remained planted to the spot—neither willing to leave, nor get any closer. It was indecision incarnate. My heart was still racing and my voice still cracked. “Well...”

Dinky sighed. I saw her roll her eyes, but she persisted. “L-Listen,” she said, speaking slowly, carefully, “I... Um, brought my mom’s ‘oops’ pills, j-just i-in case.” She glanced behind me, unable to point as she said: “The-They’re... in m-my saddlebags.”

“Oh.”

A beat of silence.

I looked at the bushes around us, and then at her. I turned slowly, prepping myself to go back out there to get her bags, but then Dinky called out over my shoulder. “Wait,” she flinched, and I stopped.

Dinky lowered herself back to the ground—another wink escaped her, and another trail of fluid further ruined the picnic blanket. A shiver ran up Dinky’s spin as she squeaked out, “A-After—Get it after,” she begged, “Please...”

~ ~ ~

I pushed my way through the bushes and came to a small clearing inside. The space was cramped and claustrophobic, so much so that the sticks and twigs were sticking to my back, poking through the thin fabric of my shirt to scrape the sensitive skin beneath. My hair was getting pulled out of line, and I had to hold my satchel in close to keep it from being dragged away from me as I plunged deeper into mother-nature’s snatch.

The mare’s sounds were getting closer, a little clearer with each step I took—slowly coalescing into the more distinct, feminine, moan of a young voice in the throes of her own pleasure. I had to crouch, slowing my breathing, as I drew into the enclosed space, and began to circle in on the source of the enticing sounds.

We were almost completely hidden from the path, though I could still sense it in the back of my mind—my imagination filled in the gaps. Every gust of breeze was like the rustling of a pegasus’s feathers; every crunch of stones, the crunching of hooves behind my back. My nerves were beyond on-edge and my ears were straining with every muscle taught, coiled and ready to fly at the sight of danger.

A beating of drums had me frozen in my tracks, like a staccato rhythm mixing together with the uneven breathing, and moans of my prey.

DA-DUM

“Ah...”

I was close.

DA-DUM

“Oh...”

Very close. Tentatively, I took another step, wincing at the comparatively loud crunch of the grainy sand under my feet. The air was far from still—a rustling breeze blew by me, shaking up the leaves all around us and momentarily hiding the beating of drums from my ears.

DA-DUM—DA-DUM—

I took a deep breath. I held it. I let it out again.

DA-DUM—DADUM—DADUM—

My heart was like a sledgehammer against the inside of my chest. With every racing beat, I felt the coursing adrenaline running through my veins, and the inevitable shaky, jittery motions that would accompany it.

As I took another step, the clearing opened up around me, pinpricks of sunlight dancing through the darkness as the green veil was pulled away bit by tiny bit.

Something red—no, white—Patches of red and white were shining in the sunlight, flicking into view through the gaps in the trees.

I slowed my pace, holding my breath and forcing my heart to stay its rhythm. It was starting to look like some sort of picnic arrangement, with a crumpled and scuffed blanket spread out in the dirt—its red and white checkers muddied and soiled with the brown splotches of the wild.

There was also a basket—or what I guessed was a basket. The shape of a handle and the hatching of braided reeds flashed by my vision as the leaves jostled across my view, sandwiches and napkins strewn across the ground where it had been obviously kicked over.

I slowed to a halt, thinking better of approaching any further, then, after considering for a moment, I took a step back and crouched in the dirt on my haunches.

It was clear there had been somepony here—though where they had gone I could hardly tell? Had there been a struggle? “Was this what that colt was doing here earlier?” I wondered to myself out loud.

Maybe.

But why?

The wind dropped and the rustling of the leaves slowed to a stuttering halt, obscuring what little view I had of the site. With the din gone, the voice came back loud and clear, like a siren in the darkness...

“Oo-oh..” she cooed, loud enough that it made the hairs on my back stand on end.

My breath hitched in the back of my throat as I sucked in a lungful of the air. It was thick and pungent with a scent I couldn’t quite place. It was sweet and intoxicating, a welcome embrace that wanted to pull me in further, like a magic spell magnetising me towards its source, all the while my senses were inundated by the cacophony of the soft, whimpering, feminine moans.

My ears felt like they were on fire, my gut clenching, and my legs yearning for me to get a little bit closer. To just take one more step.

DA-DUM

I swallowed the lump in my throat, holding myself back the best way I could., by planting my feet into the dirt and willing my mind to think of other things—unsexy things—until I could feel the tightness in my pants subside just a little, enough that I could think clearly.

I had to take this slow, I told myself. I couldn’t afford another mix up, not like the one from two days ago. I had to make sure I wasn’t going to be spotted, which meant I had to control myself.

DA-DUM

Again, I steadied my breathing, allowing my heart to return to normal, and the flushing of my cheeks to feel less hot.

The air was just as thick as ever, maybe even more so with every second that passed since the wind had stopped. I likely only had a few more minutes to do this—so I acted quickly.

Moving as deliberately, and carefully as I could, I inched my way forward and aligned my eyes up with a gap in the leaves, a space just enough for me to get a glimpse of the blanket from before, and the basked, and the sandwiches—I shifted my stance, focusing my gaze a little further, beyond the initial edge, but I still couldn’t make out what was there.

I had to move the leaves, gently, slowly, with the back of my hand, but once I did, there she was.

“Ah.”

She moaned quietly into the back of her hoof. Not quite biting down on it, but pressing it firmly against her tiny snout enough that she wouldn’t be vocal. I’m sure she thought she was being quiet, and by any measure she probably was—but she certainly wasn’t inaudible.

Anypony else who stood at the right time, and stopped to properly listen, would have surely found her.

She was a small filly, younger than Scootaloo, I thought, though it couldn’t have been by any more than a few years. Her mane was a mess, dotted with dust and the ends of some sticks, obscuring what looked to be a stubby horn in the middle of the bushel of hair.

“A unicorn?” I whispered, surprised.

Sure enough, as I watched her move, wide-eyed, the rounded tip of a horn poked through between the tufts of mane, letting off a short little spark and a faint glow with her latest mewl.

She was a unicorn foal, and a cute one at that.

She was leaning against the opposite side of the clearing, her back to the trunk of a bush whilst her legs spread out in front of me. She looked like she had just kicked the blanket out of her way as she rubbed her right hoof down between her—

The leaves obscured the rest of the so I had to move over, careful to not make a noise—I couldn’t stop my satchel from catching on the branches. I inched my way left and a little further to line my eyes up with a slightly bigger opening.

She had changed her position. No longer breathing into her hoof; the filly used her left hock to hook under her thigh and pull it up higher, closer to her head as she continued to play with herself.

The new position only served to give me a more complete view of her behind. With her laying down on the dust like that, I could clearly see her tiny, pert little anus trembling as she chased her release. Her teats were small and flat, but clearly reddened by her own arousal—it almost looked like they’d been neglected, and were begging for someone to come in and give them a gentle rub, a massage to help her release that tension.

Meanwhile her lips, flexing, velvety and slick, winked invitingly my way as they were spread under the force of her ministrations.

“Aaa...” she moaned again, cutting her cry short with a gentle bite of her lip.

Between the sight in front of me, the smells, and the excitement of being so close to the street, I couldn’t help but bite my own lip with her. A shiver ran up my spine at the sound of her latest moan—a desperate call of a foal in the throes of her first orgasm.

Her whole body tensed as she finally mounted that edge.

I was feeling hot. My motions were shaky as my hand reached for that satchel.

The filly’s breathing was fast and short. No sooner as she had begun to moan, she stayed her hooves, tensing her entire body, staying herself before she went too far.

She winked.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

I saw a trickle of white fluid, a sticky mass that leaked from between her folds. The glimpse of more teased at me through the gap as her clit shot out to kiss at the open air from underneath her hoof.

I raised the camera under my chin, waited a moment—I swallowed as I watched her return to her work, rubbing slow circles over her mound, spreading the white excretions into the matted fur that surrounds—coaxing little driblets from her folds with every pass she made.

I lifted the Polaroid to my eyes, letting the cold steel of its trimming weigh heavy in my hands, a vice to steady my nerves and the viewfinder—I took a deep breath. I found the shutter, and I took the first snap.

KER-CLACK

Then one more.

CLICK

And a third.

CLICK

The soft, satisfying click of the camera was like music to my ears. The mechanism rolled on, not a care in the world, silent and obedient as I took shot after shot, and then I heard her speak...

“Mm.... Rumble...” she said.

I watched her a moment longer through the visor, enjoying the view. The perfect framing of this perfect filly so perfectly spread out and presented to me. Not in a million universes could a sight line up like this for me, and I was lucky enough to be in one of them.

I lowered the camera, checking the lens for scratches and then returned it to its place in the satchel at my side. I adjusted the strap’s position one more time, taking a final look at the foal—a foal I regret not knowing her name, that remained in her moment of bliss.

When I finally started to move again, my legs were already starting to ache from sitting in the same position for so long. I wince as I started to turn around, pulling myself away from the bushes I’d found myself entangled in.

There was no doubt that I’d lost a lot of time by doing this—not that I’d have done it any other way—but that did mean I was short of an explanation to bring back to Mrs. Cake.

I smirked, and had to suppress a giggle, then whispered beneath my breath as I started trudging my way back out. “I wonder if she’d believe me if I told her I was on a nature hike?” I certainly looked, and smelled, the part, that was cert—

CRACK

A twig snapped, with an almost resounding, echoing, blood-curdling crunch, and my face blanched as a familiar foal’s voice piped up behind my back. “R...R-Rumble?” she said, “I-Is that you?”

Author's Note

I certainly hope that was worth the wait. I certainly spent way too long working on this one.

This is essentially double the length of a normal chapter. I could have broken it in two, but I didn't!