I Get Off With a Little Help From My Friends.

"Okyay! So thyat's a cosmo fuor Druops, a syex on the bitch for moi, and for Beaux. . ." The barmaid paused for dramatic effect for a joke that everyone present knew the punchline.

"A virgin daiquiri." Said every one of Vinyl's entourage in perfect unison over the thumping bass that rattled the glasses on the bar.

"Just as funny as the first dozen times you told it." Hymn Beaux said as he pointedly ignored the alcohol free beverage.

"Aww, what's wrong virgin boy? Is your fleshlight not texting you back?" Brandy said in a voice that made all who knew her wonder how she had survived to adulthood.

"I'm not a virgin!" Beaux shouted, completely forgetting all pretenses to composure or maturity. "I'm one of Vinyl's dicks on call for fucks sa!. . ." His sense of self awareness, called so because he had not a single shred of pride, returned a half sentence too late. His face drained of blood as he let his head fall into the bar.

The barmaid laughed the kind of ear grating, graceless laugh that only those with more sex appeal than brain cells can get away with. "Wooooow!" Brandi said, holding out the syllable needlessly long as to be as obnoxious as possible. She leaned over the bar far enough to let one of her large breasts rest against his head. "You're such a simp that you'll say that outloud? Besides, fucking PON-3 doesn't even count. Who hasn't fucked her?" No one raised their hand.

Hymn snapped his head off the bar with a rebuttal that died on the tip of his lips, coming out in a broken sibilant hiss. Of his many faults one of his most painful was his near inability to lie. "I'm not even a simp. It's far worse." His head fell heavily into his hands. "I'm a beta orbiter! I can't get pussy anywhere else so I tolerate things like this!"

He displayed his phone and the text, "Yo six inch, you on call tonight, stay close.

"And that's not even the worst part!" He said, his bloodshot eyes locking with the vapid barmaid's. "I don't even finish when we fuck! She cums two or three times, but I'm just humping away at nothing! Even in high-school! Unicorn, pegasus, earth pony, nothing. I'm starving for a meal that doesn't satisfy!"

The barmaid's face drained of mirth as the implication sank into her dim mind. "Woooooow!" Both Beaux and Brandi said simultaneously. "That's so sad I almost wanna give you a pity fuck." Beaux laid his head on the bar and didn't care whether any of the tears leaked out or not. For the very first time in her life Brandi felt actual empathy for another sapient being. She fidgeted momentarily in place, wondering what one was supposed to do in this unfamiliar situation. She eventually landed on sticking a bendy straw into the drink, that now felt cruel for her to have made, and stuck the other end into his mouth. Beaux, wallowing in his self loathing, sipped on the delicious non alcoholic drink.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen make some fuckin noise for the baddest bitch in Canterlot! DJ MOTHAFUCKIN PON-3!!!" Came over the speakers loud enough to rattle the drinks on the bar. Hymn Beaux groaned as he dragged his head off of the table. There she was, DJ PON-3, the "Baddest Bitch in Canterlot." What ever that meant. Vinyl started her set and the crowd immediately stampeded to the dance floor, leaving Hymn alone at the bar.

He stared miserably at the DJ who was the only source of sexual contact he had, and attempted to drown himself in his self pity. There she stood, bouncing slightly to the beat, her perky C cup breasts jiggling hypnotically, though they held no joy for him at that moment. There stood someone who could get all the sex they wanted at the drop of a beat, while he hadn't had a girlfriend since he'd been in high-school. He knew he wasn't ugly, he'd rate himself at about a six, maybe a seven on a good day, but if anything that made it worse. He had no one giant excuse to point to in order to salve his ego.

His ego suddenly became immaterial when he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen standing beside PON-3. Despite her color scheme being rather dull and muted, she radiated beauty like a tangible force. Whereas the woman standing next to her all but literally dripped sexual energy, she possessed the kind of beauty that even the lewdest couldn't bring themselves to lust after. Which is why Beaux was very confused to see her standing there wearing nothing but five strips of tape. She had two Xs over her nipples on her perfectly lifted breasts and what Hymn found on further inspection was the miniest of microskirts.

Whereas he should have been in awe of this goddess, descended into his little purgatory of self pity to grace him with her presence, all he felt was confusion. He could have hardly been more confused if Celestia herself had been standing there, which is ironic as Celestia was actually in the audience that night. The former princess intended to enjoy her retirement as hard as physically possible and ended the night in a Discord's three way in the bathroom.

Why was she here? What possible business could she have there? Even Brandi, with her staggering lack of care for etiquette and compassion, could see a mile away that she didn't belong here. Even all the way across the bar he could see tears standing in her eyes. For the first time in his life Hymn found himself in the same boat as the inconsiderate barmaid. He felt compassion for another person, rather than just for himself.

"Now get your fine ass out there and get some!" Vinyl shouted over the music. She shooed Octavia out of the sound booth with a firm spank to the ass that elicited a loud pleasure moan from the bashful cellist. Her face went pale at the thought of strangers hearing her make such a lewd sound, never once realizing that not a soul could've possibly heard it at the volume the music was playing. She cast her eyes about the crowded dance hall like a sailor lost in a tumultuous sea, searching desperately for some refuge. Finally her eyes spotted a single dim ray of hope in the terrifying reality she'd found herself in. Praise Celestia! They had a bar!

Since her oldest friend was bound and determined to force her to make bad decisions, then she could at least get drunk to help make those bad decisions easier to make. She attempted to make her way through the throng of thrashing party goers without touching anyone. Octavia held an arm over her breasts and a hand in front of her barely concealed nether regions, and was bounced about in the crowd like a ball in a pachinko machine. Fortunately for her, anyone who would've pursued her sexually was also bounced about in the crowd and quickly lost sight of the beautiful woman.

Octavia finally emerged on the far side of the dancefloor huffing and puffing like she'd ran a marathon in Vinyl's three inch stiletto heels. She spied the bar and staggered towards it like a thirsty soul fresh from a shipwreck to a fountain. She was so intent on drinking herself into oblivion that she didn't even conceal herself as she staggered, so Beaux got a full view of Octavia's lovely lady lips and neatly trimmed pubic hair. She flopped onto the bar close enough for the loveless man to smell her, and gasped, "May I please have a glass of Brandy!"

The barmaid smiled her most vapid smile and called out, "Right here bitch! What can I get you?"

There was a long moment of ear splitting loudness between the two as Octavia stood in confusion. "Uhm, Could I get some Brandy please?"

"That's me! What'cha wanna drink?" Brandi said again.

The cellist was nothing if not polite, so even at this moment, when she was at the highest stress of her life and about to break into tears, the rudest thing she could manage to say was, "No ma'am, I mean the drink!"

The barmaid's eyes lit up with joy, "There's a drink named after me?! That's so cool! How do you make it? Hey Drops! Listen! There's a drink named after me!" She shouted as she walked away from the desperately sober woman.

Octavia held out a limp hand after the retreating woman pathetically crying, "No wait! Please!. . ." She slumped into the barstool and fought the tears that were welling up in her violet eyes. Hymn Beaux watched this whole scene in rapt attention. He stared at the shell-shocked woman sitting next to him at the bar in a manner that would've been creepy under normal circumstances. He couldn't quite wrap his head around his situation. He knew he would never have this chance again, the single most beautiful woman in Equestria, sitting alone at the bar, right beside him, with no one else vying for her attention, yet even he couldn't bring himself to be forward in her clearly emotional state.

Octavia sat in increasingly uncomfortable silence, her breath coming in faster and faster gasps. She couldn't get drunk. Her one refuge in this hell her best friend had plunged her into. "How is this my life?" She didn't realize she said out loud. "I did the best I could! I was proficient in my profession and made it to the very highest occupation in the land for my instrument! I keep myself properly tidy! I'm loyal to my friends! SO WHY?!" She gasped when she saw a man sitting next to her holding a green tube towards her.

Hymn typed a text addressed to no one quickly into his phone that read, "These will help."

Octavia drew herself away from the stranger with rising dread. She called out loud enough for Hymn's trained ears to understand, "Uhm, no. No thank you! I don't use non-prescription medications. Uhmm, thank you for the offer though?"

Beaux's eyebrow rose high on his head for a long moment before he realized the misunderstanding. His eyes went wide and he typed furiously into his phone. "NO! NOT DRUGS!!! SOUR CANDY! TO HELP WITH YOUR PANIC ATTACK!!! NOT TRYING ANYTHING CREEPY! I SWEAR!!!"

Octavia read the text and was honestly taken aback for a moment. She delicately took one of the small squares of candy, removed its wax paper wrapping and looked at it for a long moment. "Well." She thought to herself. "If it is a trap he's certainly gone to great lengths to disguise it, and even if it is I can't get any good Brandy so. . ." She popped the treat into her mouth and instantly her face lit up with surprise and discomfort. The candy had been much more sour than she had anticipated and her face scrunched up with the intensity.

Beaux couldn't help but chuckle as he slid his slightly melted virgin daiquiri over to the flailing woman. Octavia, without even thinking that this might be the second stage of a trap, gratefully seized the drink and downed half of it in a breath. Even with her mouth puckered up by the intensely sour candy the drink was still disgustingly sweet and the cellist grimaced. The phone reappeared and she read the text, "Better?" She took a moment to take stock of herself and found that her misery had in fact been momentarily diverted by the distraction. "Yes! Much! Thank you!" She shouted over the loud music. The two sat awkwardly together at the bar for several long moments, the bass so loud that Octavia couldn't even hear herself think. Her eyes fell on the still exposed tube of sour candy and she pointed to it with her long slender finger. "Why do you even have those?" She asked in a normal speaking tone.

The phone was slid across the bar to the cellist and she rolled her eyes. Octavia had always hated cell phones. She felt the new fangled technology that the princess had recently introduced was all well and good for faster and further communications, but she was disgusted how people used them when they were painfully needless. She may have sent four texts in her life, so the cellist carefully pecked out the words, "Why do you have candy?" She was surprised to see a sad, nostalgic look come into the young man's face. Now that she was really looking at him Octavia found the young man to actually be rather attractive.

Hymn took his phone back and quickly typed, "My little sister used to get real bad panic attacks fairly frequently, so I'd keep these on me. Sour candy, for some reason, helps with panic attacks."

Octavia once again started in wonder at the man's slightly goateed face. She rested a long slender hand on his arm and said in a low voice, "That's very sweet of you." She raised an eyebrow when the moderately handsome young man with the rather firm forearm she didn't realize she was silently groping smirked and rolled his eyes.

He texted, "Do you wanna go somewhere where we can actually hear each other?" He flinched as the light grip on his forearm that before had been as delicate as a butterfly's wing suddenly clamped down with the force of a vice.

"YES PLEASE!!!" Octavia screamed in a guttural tone that none living had ever heard her use before. Hymn couldn't help but smile in surprise as she led the unsteady woman towards the door and out into the cool Canterlot night. As the cold spring night air hit her all but naked body Octavia got goosebumps all over her body, her nipples standing out rock hard under the electrical tape. She hesitated for a moment and considered retreating back into the den of degeneracy where her costume, while still inappropriate in and of itself, was at least more acceptable.

Hymn Beaux noticed the hesitation and once again felt a sensation that seemed out of place with the noble matron. He felt pity on her. Him, Hymn, the loveless loser who couldn't get laid to save his life, felt pity on this princess that, for no readily explicable reason, had gone naked into a dance hall. Octavia gave a small gasp of surprise when she felt his long trench coat, which may have been one of the many reasons that he couldn't find love, wrap around her shoulders. She didn't even notice the wonderful warmth of the garment in her relief at no longer being mostly naked. "Better?" He asked in his low, and Octavia noticed for the first time, being able to actually hear it, melodious voice.

"Yes, quite! Thank you." She said as She slipped her long slender arms through the sleeves and fastened the belt around her stomach. Beaux watched this latter action with some confusion as he never wore the coat closed. Octavia failed to repress a genuine sigh as for the first time that evening she was, at least legally speaking, properly dressed. "Lovely now where. OH!"

"Careful!" Beaux called out as the beautiful woman seized his arm for support. One of the ridiculously high heels had zigged rather than zagged and Octavia almost got a mouthful of pavement. The cellist clung to the arm for support and she carefully straightened up until her weight rested squarely over the high heels.

"Oh, uhmm. Thank.!!!" The unsteady woman cut herself off when she noticed just how firm the tone muscles of the arm she was unintentionally feeling up were. She felt terribly rude for doing so, but she just couldn't stop herself from squeezing the hard bicep and forearm. Her eyes traced the tone pegasus body up and down and her face grew redder and redder.

"Yeah, these sidewalks suck. No matter how many times you have to go blocks around to get where you're trying to go because of sidewalk repairs, they still go out of their way to trip you. Come on, the bar's just up the block and around the corner. You just keep holding onto me. I'll keep you from falling, and you. OOF!" He stopped when a crag in the pavement caught his knee high boot, yet another reason he might be single, and tried to trip him. Octavia arrested his fall and he straightened up awkwardly. "See, just like that!"

The two walked carefully in companionable silence arm in arm. As they walked Octavia's face felt like it was going to burst into flame. She stared straight ahead as they walled and she just couldn't stop rubbing her large breast against his tantalizingly hard tricep. Hymn Beaux for his part walked with the slow careful step of one handling merchandise that had been stolen that he was trying to return.

He didn't know who this princess was or where she belonged, but if she wanted to press her perfect tits against his arm for support, then that was her prerogative. His all encompassing self loathing didn't even allow the thought into his head that there they were, walking arm in arm together, in the dark, alone, with her fantastic breasts rubbing against his arm. In his head she was so far out of his league that he didn't even register her as a potential mate.

They arrived at the much smaller bar and Octavia couldn't help but be pleased at what she saw. The whole place seemed like one giant pleasant foyer of some aristocrat. The walls were lined with what seemed like upholstery, the bar was stocked with more than just different flavors of vodka, the air was filled with classical music and pleasant smelling pipe tobacco smoke. The cellist all but gawked at the complete opposite of the place where she'd been dragged against her will. "Yeah, this is where people go when they want to feel classy." He said with a cartoonish Canterlot accent. "Or just have a quiet drink."

They shuffled still arm in arm to the bar and the very dapper older man behind the counter said, "Good evening Lady and Gentleman. May I get you anything?"

"Yeah, do y'all still have that one beer with the pop top from Neighvaria?" Beaux said with casual ease.

"That would be the amber lager brewed by the brothers of our Lady of the Sun monastery. Yes, we still have a few bottles. Excellent choice sir. And for you madam?"

Octavia was taken aback for a moment, she wasn't used to being called madam anywhere outside the palace. She looked up at the large selection of rather excellent Brandies and Cognacs and felt at a loss. Before the barmaid didn't even know what Brandy was, now she had entirely too many choices. "Pardon me, but what would the gentleman recommend?" She asked in a slightly more bashful version of her bone deep courteous voice.

"I'm rather fond of the '23 Germane- Robin." The host said politely.

A light of excitement came into the cellist's violet eyes. "Oh! I suppose it would be rude of me to ask you've got any '53 Rémy Maretin wouldn't it."

A light of delight at meeting a fellow connoisseur came into the dapper man's eyes. "Ah! Not at all my dear! I do believe we have just one bottle left for just such a lovely young lady. Though I must say." He leaned slightly forward and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. "We are rather averse to public displays of affection in this establishment." He flicked his eyes down to where Octavia was still quite obviously feeling the young man up right in front of everyone. The cellist blushed and stepped away like a teenager being caught making out in a movie theater.

"Oh don't worry about that." Hymn said casually. "She was just using me as a crutch. You know how these sidewalks are."

The barman nodded as he fetched the drinks. "Oh don't I know it. There you are sir." He produced a chilled stone bottle. "And for you madam." Hymn shrank back in horror as the man behind the bar held a small culinary blow torch to the small glass. "Your '53." He poured the Brandy into the glass about halfway.

He was about to replace the dusty bottle back in its concealed cubby when the young man unexpectedly quipped, "Leave the bottle." Both Octavia and the man behind the bar stared in shock at Beaux for his impudence.

"I'm quite sorry Sir, but don't do things that way h." He was cut off by Hymn leaning far forward over the bar to whisper into the barman's ear.

"This young lady just barely managed to escape Mad Mares dance hall alive. If anyone needs a drink it's her." He said, flicking his eyes towards the blushing woman.

The dapper gentleman put a hand to his heart and said gravely, "Bless you for rescuing her sir." He slid the bottle forward towards Hymn.

"Much obliged." Beaux said, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat. He attempted to walk away, but he felt the beer in his hand not yield.

"This." The barman said, raising the beer. "Is on the house." Now it was the young man's turn to gawk at the dapper man's audacity. He extended a hand and the barman firmly shook his wrist. Octavia carefully took her Brandy and Hymn marched with the two large bottles over to a secluded booth. They sat and Hymn opened the top off of his bottle with a deafening POP that made Octavia jump in surprise.

He held the large stone bottle up and quipped, "Prost!"

Octavia held up her small glass of Brandy and smiled bashfully as she whispered, "Cheers, yes." She carefully touched her delicate glass to the stone bottle and took a long grateful sip.

Hymn Beaux took several long swigs from his beer and exhaled in satisfaction. "Ah the Allemaneians, ya just can't stay mad at them."

"Yes, it is a terrible nuisance trying to find good Brandy outside of the palace." Octavia said, swirling her drink. Hymn gave a single chuckle at the fact that a comment that should've made him spit up his beer in shock merely bounced off his head. Of course she was familiar with the palace. This paragon of proper breeding and sophistication had to be royalty. She lacked his wings or Vinyl's horn, but she still had to be a duchess or a countess, or some such other thing. "A lovely little spot this. How did you come by it?"

"Oh you know how it goes on a pub crawl, you never know where you're going to end up. I just happened to come here once upon a time, though this isn't my usual haunt." He took a swig of his beer. "Apropos, how does a lady of quality like yourself wind up in a place like Mad Mares? If you don't mind me asking." Hymn noticed Octavia's face grow red in a manner that he'd never seen in real life. In his experience having a sense of shame was a novelty, much less being genuinely embarrassed by something.

"Oh uhm, well, the thing about that is ahem." The cellist mumbled, hiding behind her drink. She rubbed the rim of the warmed glass with the very tip of a perfectly manicured index finger. "My friend feels that I should get out more and uhmm. . ." She couldn't bring herself to continue.

Beaux decided to come to the poor girl's aid. "Good friend to have. I'd just rot in my apartment if I didn't have people to bully me out into public."

Octavia felt infinitely relieved at finding a kindred spirit in her pilgrimage in an unhallowed land. "And what brought you to that dance hall might I ask." She began to regret her question as the increasingly attractive young man stopped mid swallow of his drink and began staring coldly at the wall just beside her head.

The words, "Yo six inch." Seemed to be burned with letters of fire into the wall of the booth. Hymn saw the concerned expression on the face of his guest and he cleared the air. "A . . . friend. . . asked me to stay close in case she needed me tonight."

The cellist smiled warmly and gently laid a hand on the young man's. "That's very good of you to be there for your friends."

Hymn smirked, "Well with friends like these, who needs enemies?" He couldn't help but chuckle as the young lady proceeded to crack right up at his microscopic flash of wit.

"That!" Octavia said, failing to repress her giggles. "That was rather good." She carefully refilled her glass and raised it. "To friendship." They clinked their drinks again and Beaux watched in cringing horror as the classy woman smoothly sipped half of it.

"Ugh, warm liquor. You are a braver woman than I." He said, gently sipping his delicious, prohibitively expensive beer.

Again the beautiful woman wearing his trench coat, whose tightened belt accentuated her busty breasts giggled as she was utterly starved for wit. "But. . . But you're not a woman."

Hymn Beaux adopted a deep Austrian accent and spoke in monotone. "Zats de Choke." Octavia had to rest her head on the table and chuckle like a drunken woman for scraggly long moments. The young man wondered just how light of a weight this noble was. She was already acting goofy drunk and she'd only had a glass and a half. The night flew by in a golden had of gently sipping excellent Brandy and laughing entirely too hard at weak jests until suddenly the cellist made a pained face at the music in the background.

"Ugh! Not Pachelbel! Please!" She pantomimed the eight notes that had haunted her early music days.

Hymn smirked, "A bit overplayed isn't it?"

"Yes!" The pained cellist called out. "Every wedding, every ceremony, every, where are you going?" She asked as he rose casually from his seat.

Beaux shrugged his shoulders. "Eh, I'm gonna see if this DJ takes requests." He siddled up the car and again spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. "Hey boss, Canon in D's just a wee bit played out don't ya think?"

The barman gave the audacious young pegasus a warning, but oddly grateful look. "You know, I was just thinking that myself." Instantly the bar was filled with the bright jaunty notes of Wolfgang Amadeus Oatzart's "Ein Kleine Nachtmusik."

"My man!" The young man cheered as he strutted back towards his booth. He extended a hand to his lady and cooed, "Do you waltz?"

Octavia instantly grew indignant. "Do I!? Do I wal!? DO I. . ." She stopped when she realized with some embarrassment that she never had actually waltzed. She'd played thousands of waltzes, but had never once gotten to actually dance during any of them as she was always in the orchestra. She blushed as she realized for the very first time in her life a rather handsome young man was asking her to dance. "Yes, I know how to waltz." She rose, and even in her three inch stiletto heels the two began to swirl about the room.

An older unicorn with a grave countenance noticed the frivolity of the two and his sense of propriety was offended. He slammed the book he was reading down with a thunderous boom and his resonant voice filled the bar as he bellowed. "YOUNG MAN! That is NOT the way we do things around heyah!" The two young people stopped their waltzing and Hymn prepared for either flight or combat. They noticed that every eye in the bar was on them with the same scowl. "If there's going to be a waltz, then it is an INSULT to not have any other Waltzers to support them! Gentleman! Minuet and trio. Show them how it's done."

Several horns lit and suddenly the entire lounge was converted into an impromptu dance hall. Instantly every man jack in the bar coupled up and began twirling about the baffled couple. The two couldn't help but laugh as they whirled about in file with the dozen other couples, trading partners, going through the sequence, meeting again and going through the motion all over again. Hymn had not expected to dance with a dozen husky bearded men when he left his tiny apartment that evening, but to see the terrified princess that he had first seen on the verge of tears now whirling about, her face almost split in two by her grin made holding hands with a dozen dudes tolerable.

By the time the piece ended and all bowed and curtsied to their partner respectively, Octavia was laughing non stop through her labored breath. She all but collapsed into the booth, a wide smile on her face. "I think that's the most fun I've ever had in my life!" She said, her laughter slowly slipping into a sustained snicker.

"Really? Then you need to have more fun. Your friend needs to bully you out of the house more often then." He said, sipping his beer. He realized as he felt the drink slide down his gullet all the way to his kidneys that he had worked up quite a sweat.

"How is it you know how to waltz?" Octavia asked, once again immediately regretting the question.

Hymn was silent for a long moment, his face distant. He thought hard about how to answer the question. "Private school education. We learned all the old standbys. How to dance, box, sing, etc. You know, just the useful things that help one find a career in their cutie mark once they're an adult." He finished his beer and glowered into the empty stone bottle.

"You sing?" The cellist asked in surprise.

The young man stopped his sulking and poured back through his memory, trying to recall the most esoteric of ballads that had been drilled into his head by his various schoolmasters. He cleared his throat and sat up straight. "I gave my love to Karen. She promised to be true. I went to war only to come back."

Suddenly the whole bar rang out in rich harmony to support the young man's tenor, "To find five Royal guards had had their way with her. It was consensual." Octavia sat hypnotized as the narrative of the impromptu men's choir wove its way around ending with a sustained, "And all their fathers were hanged, and the children all got pink eye, while their Neighrry Trotter books were burned." The bar rang with a long moment of sustained silence in the wake of the deep and storied history the men had related.

As one the bar silently rose and began shuffling towards the door. The dapper bar man called out, "Well my young lady and gentlemen, while we have enjoyed your company this evening, it is in fact time to rejoin society."

Both young people looked about in confusion. "What? Closing time? But it's only." Hymn gawked as he noticed the time. "Holy fuck it's three in the. . ." He stopped when he noticed a slew of messages from Vinyl. The texts grew in use of caps lock and anger in a linear proportion. Perhaps it was the influence of the excellent Neighvarian beer, or the beautiful violet eyes looking longingly at him for what to do next, but for the first time in his young life Hymn Beaux decided not to obey the demanding DJ. "Fuck you're probably starving. Wanna go get something to eat?"

Octavia's face brightened at the best night of her life not having to end just yet. "Oh, no I'm perfectly. Ah." She gasped in pain when she tried to rise and found the entire bottoms of her feet were each one giant blister. She chuckled in embarrassment. "Heh, heh, not my shoes you know." Hymn, without a single thought, scooped the young lady into his arms and carried her out of the bar like a new bride. Octavia blushed to the ears at the display. "Oh, no, really, that's not necessaREEEE!!!" She squealed as the young man unexpectedly took off until the air on his pegasus wings.

"Just hang on tight and I'll get you where you're goin." He hovered in air for an awkward moment. "Uhmm. Where ARE we going?" Octavia gave directions and tried not to rub her face against the young man's chest too firmly. In a surprisingly short time they arrived at the door of the apartment that Vinyl and her shared. "Well ma'am, I certainly hope you feel better." He said turning like he was about to dash off into the air again.

"Wait!" Octavia called out desperately, causing the young man to flinch. She had tears in the corners of her eyes. Tonight had been the very best night of her life and she groped for some excuse, ANY excuse to delay their parting. "Oh, uhm, I'm still wearing your coat sir!" She said, infinitely relieved to have a valid excuse.

Hymn Beaux turned back to look at the beautiful woman in surprise. "Huh? Oh yeah! Right." Normally he felt naked if he wasn't wearing it when he went out, so to realize he'd been without it all evening came as quite a shock.

The blushing young woman unlocked her door and stepped inside. "Uhm. . ." Octavia had to summon up every scrap of courage that she had to be able to ask, "Won't you. . . Come in?" She squeaked through a bashful grin.

The young man was about to ask why, when he remembered what the young lady was, and much more importantly WASN'T, wearing underneath his trench coat. "Oh right, sorry. Of course." He jogged inside and Octavia shut the door behind them. Her breath became labored as her fingers, normally so skilled and dexterous, fumbled with the buttons and belt of the coat. Hymn, his situational awareness so utterly warped by his complete lack of self esteem, simply held out his hand. He waited for the respectable young lady with whom he'd spent a completely platonic evening of drinking and dancing, to place his coat in his hand.

Octavia breathed heavily through Her nose as she finally got the last button loose. Her skin broke out in goosebumps as she felt the cool air of her apartment hit her bare chest. She slowly slipped off the coat, fully revealing her unbelievably perky D cup breasts, the rock hard nipples still covered by the Xs of electrical tape. The micro skirt that perched on her wide hips failed to disguise anything as the coat finally came all the way off. Hymn reached for the coat, but his eyebrow rose when the mostly naked woman let it slip out of her hands to the floor. His other eyebrow rose to meet it when the micro miniskirt fell to meet the coat.