A Game of Flats

Running the brush through the unicorn’s mane was relaxing. It gave her mind a chance to focus on a simple task, to follow a couple simple rules—be careful around her ears and her horn, don’t pull on snags but work them out slowly. Since Aloha regularly brushed her mane and used conditioner, there weren’t many snags.

Aloha’s hair was coarser and wavier than her own; the brush would pull it straight and then it would pull itself back once she got to the end.

The two talked about the games they’d played, the strategies they’d used, a nice, innocent conversation. Neither of them had kept a total points tally, and Lola wondered if that was something ponies did, or if they weren’t generally concerned with statistics. It didn’t feel like the right question to ask.

When she was finally satisfied with the state of Aloha’s mane, she put down the hairbrush and leaned over to get the curry comb, being careful to not impale herself on the unicorn’s horn.

“It feels weird to have your udd—your boobs on my head.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, they’re nice. Don’t take this wrong, but I liked them better when they were free.”

“Trying to get me out of my clothes already?”

“Maybe. Doesn’t it feel better when they can move around how they want, not be all squished up under fabric?”

“That really depends on circumstance—my boobs have to be held back during a game, but I don’t normally wear a bra when I’m sleeping, or if—”

Lola grabbed the curry comb and leaned back and started wiggling around; Aloha turned her head in time to see the bunny pull her bra out from the sleeve of her shirt. “Could hang this on your doorknob . . . you ponies probably wouldn’t even know what it meant.”

“Sure we would, we’ve all seen you in the locker room.”

“Fair point.” Lola tossed it on the bed instead. She grabbed onto the brush—the loop on the back was sized for a hoof, not her paw, and it wasn’t an adjustable strap like the one she had.

She could go back to her room, get her own grooming supplies, but no, it was better to stay here and let things unfold.

•••

By the time she got done with the unicorn’s barrel, she’d gotten good at holding the curry comb. “Do you want me to brush your stomach?”

“If you want to, or you can brush my tail, or I can take my turn.”

“I’m happy to continue.”

Aloha nodded and then rolled onto her back, wiggling around until she’d regained a comfortable spot on Lola’s lap.

After their conversation about boobs versus udders in the locker room, Lola had started to notice them on the mares. They’d always been there, of course, but since they were normally standing on three or four legs, they weren’t obvious.

The pegasi were the exception, inadvertently showing off every time they flew overhead.

With Aloha stretched out on her back, Lola had a very clear view, two bare mounds of flesh just in front of her hind legs, thicker nipples than her own, but no areola to mark them.

She had a sudden mad urge to touch them, to see if they were bouncy or not. That will wait.

Wouldn’t it?

She picked up the brush and eyed the grain of Aloha’s fur. It came together along her belly in a ruff, almost the opposite of a natural part. That was easy enough to work with, but she started instead with the unicorn’s forelegs, brushing all the way down to her hooves—technically, up, since the unicorn was supine.

She’d have to move to get the unicorn’s hind legs—she could get her tail, too, although that was going to be . . . intimate. Doubt started rising, so she focused her attention on the unicorn’s belly, running the curry brush along the grain of her fur, getting every closer to the mare’s compact udders and perky nipples. Were they always perky or was she just enjoying the brushing?

Lola had never turned another girl on, as far as she knew. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Should she be proud?

The brush was almost there, the unicorn was relaxed, she was relaxed and if she thought too much about what she was about to do, she might wimp out. Lola let the brush drop off her hand and reached out, her paw on the border of fur and flesh, and then she did it, sliding her paw lightly along Aloha’s tit—they were small enough that she could have nearly covered both with one paw, if she wanted to. She could definitely tweak both nipples with one hand.

They were not as tight as they looked; there was some give and some squishiness, but not much.

She’d only intended for a quick exploratory feel, then her fingers bumped up against a rock-hard nipple, and she traced around its border, then gave it a gentle pinch, heat racing to her cheeks and her loins as she did.

With Aloha lying on her lap, she felt the unicorn twist in pleasure, so she did it again, and then she slid her hand down further. She wasn’t entirely familiar with a mare’s anatomy, especially not from this perspective, although she had seen her genitals plenty of times.

Stop, this isn’t right, she’s a girl. Lola tried to will her hand to move, to make that last short journey, but she wasn't mentally ready yet. She could feel the tension building again, her psyche insisting that she was about to do something that was Wrong.

Aloha noticed, too. Lola’s paw was still resting on her teats, and then she pulled it back to the safer territory of belly-fur.

“It’s okay.”

“I’m just not ready yet.”

“That’s fine.”

“I could brush your—” Having her hand right up against the unicorn’s butt, against her vulva, it would be a good excuse to touch ‘accidentally’ and go from there, but she wasn’t sure she could. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

“Or I can brush you, let you relax some, you’ve been doing all the work.” Aloha leaned up, looking the rabbit in her eyes.

I’m not sure I can do this. She didn’t say it, but they both knew she was thinking it.

She wanted to, but a louder voice in her mind wanted her not to.

“If you don’t mind, it’ll be easiest for me to do your hair if you’re sitting on the ground.” The unicorn rolled off Lola’s legs. Already she missed the contact. “I don’t have good balance standing on the bed, but if that’s uncomfortable. . . .”

“It’s fine.” Lola slid off the bed and crossed her legs, sitting on her heels. The floor was cold, but it was something to focus on. She could feel the mattress moving as Aloha got in position, and then she felt the brush in her hair.

Hairdressers brushed her hair, and when she was a little kit her mom had, but otherwise nobody else had brushed it but her. It felt entirely different to when she did it, or when a hairdresser did it, a whole host of pleasant sensations. She could feel Aloha’s breath on her head—the unicorn was holding the brush in her mouth. If she hadn’t seen it, she wouldn’t have expected it; the finesse was on par with hands.

She focused on that, but in the back of her mind she was already wondering what else those lips could do.

•••

Compared to Aloha’s mane, Lola didn’t really have a lot of hair, so it wasn’t long before it was time for the curry brush.

“I can come down there with you,” Aloha said, “or you can get back on the bed and lie down.”

She could have done Lola’s hair that way, but having a break from the closeness had actually been good, had given the dissenting voice in Lola’s head time to calm down.

“Yeah, on the bed’s better.” Lola stood and stretched, while Aloha strapped the curry brush onto her forehoof. “Maybe groom my back first?”

She’d already laid on the bed when she realized what a difficult task she’d set for the pony. How could Aloha groom her if she was wearing clothes? “You can—”

Aloha could reach under her shirt and get almost everything but that was stupid; she’d seen the bunny naked before, this was no different than the locker room. Lola sat up and pulled her shirt off, then laid back down and let the unicorn go to work.

It was kind of like a massage table. Aloha sat down on her rump and braced herself with one foreleg while the other used the curry brush. Intentionally or not, she’d positioned her hind legs in a way that gave Lola an unobstructed view of her teats.

At first she just watched, but as the unicorn worked her way down her back, Lola reached out, not quite touching them, resting her hand against the mare’s thigh, sliding ever closer until her nipples just slid against the back of Lola’s paw whenever Aloha leaned across her.

If there’d been a dick there, she’d have already had her paw wrapped around it, and she hated that she was thinking that way. She tried to shut her mind up, tried to focus instead on the feel of brush on fur and was mostly successful.

•••

As Aloha worked her way down Lola’s body, she wanted the unicorn to just yank off her shorts and do what needed to be done. It might be easier if Aloha initiated, and she could just follow along; she could already imagine it in her mind, especially as the brush started touching the waistband of her shorts, the curve of her ass, as she started to reach around her tail and then ran out of exposed fur to groom.

Lola wasn’t expecting for her to go back to the mane brush nor for her to brush her tail; she tensed and then relaxed, waiting for the unicorn to switch back to the curry comb, to slide her hoof under the elastic—

She didn’t; she shifted on the bed and scooted down, working on Lola’s legs, as much of them as she could reach around shorts anyway.

It was time for Lola to make another decision, so she reached down, pushed her shorts down as far as she could, they were going to come off sooner or later and it might as well be now.

Her panties still gave her some modesty, and even though she wished she wouldn’t, the unicorn respected that, only brushing up to the edge of the fabric, not even trying to go beyond.

Once she’d gotten the backs and outsides of Lola’s legs, she returned to her ass, the brush and her hoof gently pushing against the back of her thigh, needing access. Lola hesitated, then spread her legs, closing her eyes as she felt the side of a hoof brush against her crotch and then the comb was in her fur, working away, down towards her knee, and she wanted it back, she needed it back.

A moment later, it was back, pressing once again on her panties, on her sex, and then it was gone again and she focused on the sensations of the brush and the anticipation of the next time.