Author's Note

Day 4: Comfy

Aquamarine pulled a fuzzy blanket up to her chin and squirmed her hooves to a more comfortable position. She reached for the warm cup of peppermint tea on the nightstand nearby and held it with both forehooves, cradling it in her lap and revelling in the pleasant radiating warmth.

The air outside was unpleasant. Little gusts that held a semblance of the bitter cold that would plague the land a few short months from now. It was mostly scarf weather, maybe boots on the odd chilly day. Autumn was a time of weather that often changed its course in the middle of the day. This particular day had been one of biting cold.

Aqua had trudged home from school without boots and nary but a thin scarf to protect from the uninviting gusts that billowed from the north. It was cold enough that she found herself huddled under blankets even still.

She’d taken a bath, then, as soon as she’d gotten home. For what was better than a hot, steamy bath on a cold day? She’d even treated herself with some bubble mixture for the added reinforced pleasantness. She had floated listlessly for a half-hour absentmindedly ruminating about school before the lack of warmth in the bathwater snapped her nearly dreamlike state quickly back to reality. She stumbled out of the tub in a hurry and wrapped herself in towels.

Back at her room, Aqua had slipped into her favourite autumn sweater--a fuzzy one made from sheep fleece--and crawled under her blankets, with an extra one she’d pilfered from the hallway closet, and held the sweet-smelling tea close to her nose.

She took a sip of hot peppermint tea and breathed a sigh of contentment. Even though the wind had begun to rattle the branches of the old tree in the yard against her windowsill, and battered the shutters, she felt safe and happy and so pleasantly warm inside, curled up under the covers and happily sipping her favourite tea.

It was still early, and her mother wouldn’t be back from work for a while yet. Normally on a day like today, she’d be out with her friends or maybe doing homework on the kitchen table, but today she didn’t feel like any of that. No, under the covers was more comfortable by far, and the idea of leaving her warm cocoon wasn’t something she wanted to consider. Her mind wandered to school again; the day’s lesson hadn’t been particularly interesting, but they’d gotten to do another group project, and she’d been set up with Chip Cutter again. Chip was cute, smart, and talkative. She liked listening to him talk about himself.

She’d taken notice of Chip more than ever before in these recent months. He wasn’t at all like the other colts in class, who were more interested in playing in dirt or being icky and rude while Chip was polite, kind and took notice of her, too. He smiled at her in class and sometimes talked to her at recess or when they walked the same way home. In her dreamy, romantically-inclined mind she imagined he had gone out of his way to walk that way just for the opportunity to talk to her, even if that wasn’t necessarily true.

Aquamarine took another big swig of her tea and found that it had started to get cold. She carefully reached over to place it on her nightstand, finished with it for now, at least. It wasn’t nearly as nice to drink if it wasn’t piping hot. Returning to her cocoon of warmth she wiggled all four hooves under the covers and thought back again to Chip. Handsome and sweet Chip who’d sometimes let her have one of the treats from his lunchbox.

She started to feel a bubbly and tingly sensation that started in her nether regions and filled her whole body with even more warmth, though it wasn’t stifling or too over sensitizing. She knew this feeling well, and even though it caused her cheeks to turn a brilliant hue of red, she revelled in the sensation. Her hoof drifted down between her legs and she instinctively parted them just enough to allow it access. She grazed the frog of her hoof right over her fuzzy fillyhood, parting the lips a bit and groping around in the dark for whatever felt good.

A moan slipped past her lips as images of Chip filled her mind’s eyes. Cute, friendly, stomach butterfly-causing, heartbeat-skipping Chip Cutter. She bit her lip and turned on her side, clenching her wandering, curious hoof between her legs, squeezing it there as she moved it back and forth across her already-slick cunny, wet with the slight amount of juices her body was providing in an effort to bring her closer to that inevitable conclusion.

Cute Chip. Fuckable Chip. She moaned again, imagining what his colthood must look like, what it must taste and feel like in her mouth, deep in the back of her throat. She’d seen a video like that once, at her Uncle’s when she was supposed to be asleep and crept downstairs to find him watching it. She’d been confused and shocked at the time, unsure of how to process the revelation or why on earth a mare would ever do those things, but more than ever she understood now.

She imagined what it would be like to press Chip onto his back, on a bed, and climb into his lap. To straddle him, feeling that tiny prick of his throbbing as she deftly swished her tail hairs back and forth across the tip. She wanted to know whether he’d lay back in blissful agony, confused as she was about the course of events, or if he’d cling to her, desperately wanting more and covering her neck and muzzle with kisses while whispering sweet, adorable things to her.

Her hoof was grinding hard and fast, her pile of blankets muffling the slick, wet sounds of a filly hoofing herself off. More warmth filled her belly than ever before and she felt her largely untouched inner crevice quiver and throb. Her clit winked and she bit her pillow to keep from squealing so loud her neighbours might hear, even as her hoof rubbed against it.

She thought about what Chip’s member must feel like, pressed against her hot filly folds, slowly working its way in. Spearing up and inside of her, spreading her insides like nothing ever had before. How it would feel for him to thrust up and in her, even as she pushed herself down, reaching depths she’d never felt and had no frame of reference to compare.

Her fillyhood clenched and winked again and she doubled down her efforts, imagining Chip was right beside her, experiencing the same sensations, and shooting that white milky stuff they’d learned about in school inside of her, squirting it deep inside and all over her rump. Her legs clenched around her hoof as she rubbed herself until her hoof might fall off. She squirted with a shuddering squeak and a hump of her hips, little rivulets of juices expelling from her onto her hoof and making the fur around her thighs and crotch damp.

“O-oh! Chiiiiip!”

Exhausted and spent she relaxed into the cushions of her bed and cradled her blankets tighter. She’d worry about bathing later, for now simply grabbing her mug of semi-warm tea and taking huge gulps of it.

Tomorrow, she decided, she wasn’t going to let this be a fantasy any longer. She’d get Chip Cutter for real.