Pinkie Pie’s room was unusually silent. Not the usual kind of—

“Oh! Ohhh... yes! Yes!”

Or rather, it was loud and lively.

“No, don’t stop! K-keep going. Just... just keep—”

*SMACK!*

“Ah~!”

“Good ponies,” Anon half growled, half panted; pistoning back and forth. “Stay silent.” He slapped her bouncy flank again, and again Pinkie squealed in turn. “Are you...” he panted. “A good pony?”

Her forehead pressed against the mattress, Pinkie nodded as best she could.

“Anooonnn,” she whined pitifully, only to receive another hard slap that jiggled her flank, leaving it a vibrant red, and sending spikes of burning ecstasy throughout her body.

Pinkie bit her lip. She bit so hard it near drew blood. The mere effort to stay silent—to not voice and scream the sinful, carnal delights Anon and his rock-hard dick (and hands) granted with such seemingly little effort—proved a monumental task in itself. Even watching paint dry had been easier than this!

Regardless, Pinkie persevered. Screams and squeals and moans of delight were ruthlessly stamped down, as were shrills and shrieks and yelps so abrupt whenever he slapped her tender flanks. She promptly shoved a hoof in her mouth and bit down, so dire was her need.

Totally worth it.

Anon pounded her plot with such need, such ferocity she’d never experienced from a stallion. She’d even saved up her bits on a few special occasions to afford the services of high-class studs. None of them compared to Anon and this new, fierce hunger that for all this time, simmered beneath the surface.

Again and again he slammed his rock-hard dick against her jiggling plot. Pinkie’s mind felt like mush. She realized at some point her body went limp, entirely held aloft by Anon; one hand gripping near the dock of her tail, the other supporting her underbelly, just above her teats as he pistoned back and forth. His musk, overpowering, filled her senses. Sweat dripped from his forehead, a trace of strain on his features as he held her aloft, rutted her senseless, and maintained his balance at the same time.

He was close. Pinkie could feel it. She was too. She reined in her climax, waiting for the right moment. Already she could tell, it would be a doozy—no, a doozy of a doozy. Anon’s pace increased, growing faster, desperate. More urgent. At last the moment arrived. She could practically taste it.

As if to validate her, Anon paused his relentless pounding. His hands wrapped around her hips with a vise-like grip. He thrust into her once, sending ripples across her flanks. He thrust again, pulling her against him; her hooves left the mattress. Pinkie’s marehood winked, drooling with arousal. She held her breath as Anon nearly pulled out, leaving but the tip inside her tight, needy tunnel and at long last, with one final, culminating, titanic thrust, buried himself anew.

A rumbling, guttural growl rumbled from his throat as he climaxed. His cock twitched once before firing. Load after load of white-hot cum pumped forth, filling up Pinkie to the brim with potent seed.

She let loose her own climax. Her mouth, muffled by the mattress beneath it, unleashed a piercing squeal, turned scream. Her marehood winked in desperation, trying in vain to seize a nonexistent dick even as it released a small torrent of marely nectar.

If Pinkie’s first orgasm had been shattering, this one was nothing less than ruinous. The orgasmic release, so intense, filled her vision with white. The outside world grew dim, blurry, barely perceptible beyond the hazy veil of carnal release.

She didn’t see so much as feel Anon’s body fall limp beside her. Even forming a coherent thought was a task unto itself. She twitched sporadically, riding out the waves of her orgasm; progressively growing gentler, more mellow. Despite all this, even counting Anon’s less than gentle treatment of her, Pinkie felt like a million bits.

Not in a thousand years did she imagine being in this position, thoroughly rutted to completion not once, but twice in quick succession. It’s the kind of unattainable dream scenario many a mare would reserve for only her wildest fantasies, yet here she was. Living the dream. It truly didn’t get better than this.

She felt Anon’s hand snake around her side. Lethargically, he turned her to that she lay face-up. How nice of him. She’d have done it herself, had her body not felt like a big lead weight. She breathed long and deep, as did Anon, content to bask in the afterglow and enjoy the other’s company.

“Anon?”

“Hm?”

“You rut pretty good.”

He laughed. “You’re not too bad yourself, Pinks.”

He wrapped one arm around her, pulling her in close. Pinkie leaned in, snuggling into the half embrace.

“Hey Anon?”

“Yeah?”

“That was the best lay of my life.”

He laughed again and held her closer still.

“Best lay of your life so far.”

Pinkie giggled, closing her eyes as he languidly traced his nails back and forth from her temple.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said. “Just don’t forget me once you’ve had fun with other mares.”

The heavenly sensations of his nails stopped. He glanced down at her.

“What?” he said cautiously.

“Well,” Pinkie hesitated. “You liked it, didn’t you? Being with me?”

“Yeah?”

“And... would you like to do it again sometime?”

“Obviously.”

“So there,” she said simply. “You’ll probably want to try other mares, so just come on over when you feel like having fun.” A sly smile. “So who is it, huh? I mean, you probably want to go back and try your luck with Rarity. You know, once there’s no foals to walk in on ya,” she chortled. “I’m sure she’d like you to.”

Pinkie’s smile faded as something shifted in Anon’s face.

“What is it?”

“Are you...” he looked away, clearing his throat. “S-sorry. It’s just... I knew things were different here but... I mean, wow.” He looked somewhat uneased, rubbing the back of his head. “You don’t see this type of thing back home—a girl trying to set you up with her friend after the two of have finished... well.” He gestured broadly with his hand.

“That different, huh?”

“You have no idea.” Anon muttered. “And... you really don’t mind? At all?” At Pinkie’s questioning look, he continued. “Setting me up with Rarity, I mean?”

“Well, no. Why would I? She’s a great friend. She’s nice and generous and she’ll treat you good if you give her a chance, and... and...” Her eyes widened in realization. “Ohh. Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know.”

“Know what?”

“Well,” Pinkie said, adopting an unusually thoughtful look. “You know how there’s not that many stallions around?” Anon nodded. “Usually, once a mare and a stallion have had their fun, she’ll try to introduce him to a friend. You know, so they can all get a turn.”

“You mean like a herd?”

Pinkie shook her head. “Well, no. Herds are serious business. This is more like, uh... fun. Casual fun. The mares try to show the stallion a good time. That way, you know, hopefully he’ll want to go back and do it with them again, even if he goes and tries other mares in the meantime.”

“Jesus,” Anon muttered, a dazed, faraway look in his eye. “I’m really not in Kansas anymore...” He kept staring off into the distance. Pinkie had the presence of mind to let him have it. The information took him aback for some reason.

“So,” she said eventually. “Don’t the humans do it like that? Like us ponies?”

He shrugged. “Some probably do. There’s, uh, something for almost everyone, last I knew, but monogamy is the norm. One and only one partner only. This kind of... sharing and stuff is kind of on the fringes. Most would look at you weird for doing it. It’s not considered, uh, normal, I guess.”

Pinkie had a hard time wrapping her head around it. How were humans supposed to find a good, reliable sexual partner by limiting themselves like that? How odd.

“And you?” she said. “Do you... think you’ll try it like us? Like ponies? Or is that too weird?”

Anon looked uncomfortable. “It’s... strange... ah, no offense. But, if that’s normal for you guys,” he said slowly. “And if you’re really okay with it, I... guess I could give it a try. When in Rome, you know,” he trailed off lamely.

Pinkie hummed. “I wouldn’t worry.”

“Oh? You know something I don’t?”

Pinkie smiled. “Just a feeling, Anon. But I think you’ll do great.”

They lapsed into another comfortable silence. Pinkie didn’t mind. It meant they could snuggle for a bit longer.

“By the way,” Anon said. “Rarity said something. About stallions?”

Pinkie hummed. “Yeah? What of it?”

“That they can go twice a day at most. Is that actually true?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“And mares? How many rounds can you guys—er, ladies, go for? Before you’re done for good.”

With a wistful sigh, Pinkie said, “When I find out, Anon, I’ll let you know.”

‘When’. Fat chance. Still, a mare could dream.

Anon pulled her a bit closer to him. Pinkie closed her eyes, resting her cheek against his shoulder. His hand made a steady course down her belly, to her teats, cupping the soft, ample mounds. He took one of her perky pink nubs, lightly pulling and pressing it between his fingers.

Pinkie groaned softly, nuzzling her cheek onto the smooth skin of his shoulder. Part of her knew she should probably stop him. Were this to continue, he’d just get her hot and ready to go again. It should... probably be okay. She could just use one of her toys once he left. But stop he didn’t. In fact, he moved on from her teats, fingers trailing lower, lower, until they grazed the outer lips of her glistening marehood.

Pinkie gulped. Opening her eyes, she looked to Anon.

“Anon?” she said, a bit uncertain.

“Want to find out?”

“H-huh?”

“What we were talking about, just now. Want to find out?”

She blinked rapidly and upon connecting the dots, Pinkie’s jaw went slack.

“I mean,” Anon continued. “I’ll need some more time to get ready, but until then...” Pinkie’s breath hitched as he slipped two fingers inside. “I can probably squeeze one out of you. If you want to keep going.”

Pinkie gulped.

“O-okay.”

Pinkie’s legs bucked in reflex, nearly taking Anon’s head off.

“O-oh! Ohmygosh, I... N-nnnngh!” Her back arched, head pressed hard against the mattress, legs kicking to the air, it was all Pinkie could do to keep her words straight.

“Anon,” she half-panted, half-whined. “I... I don’t know what you’re doing but... oh, yesss~... jus-just keep doing it!”

He pumped his fingers in and out of her tight, dripping marehood. He did things with them Pinkie didn’t think were possible, touched her in ways she hadn’t even fathomed before today, and when they rubbed a certain spot inside her, Pinkie swore her mind melted from the sensation alone, sending jagged, searing bolts of near painful pleasure that seized and spasmed her body.

When her climax came, it came hard, leaving Pinkie little more than a twitching, quivering lump atop the sheets, her heart hammering against her ribcage, chest heaving as she greedily inhaled great gulps of air. So out of it was she, she barely even registered Anon grabbing onto her hind legs, lifting them high in the air. Shakily, she lifted her head, watching awestruck as he lined his raging hard-on with her marehood. With one smooth thrust, Anon buried himself within her depths.

The following minutes were a blur to Pinkie. Thoughts became difficult, her mind swimming in a thick, muggy soup of lust and pleasure. Her marehood eagerly took to the attention, soaking the sheets beneath it, climaxing once, twice, and once Anon finished, clenched itself around him, greedily taking load after load of his hot seed.

Pinkie might have passed out. Who knows. Things kind of went blank for a bit, but next she knew and after some time, Anon shakily sat up.

“You still there, Pinkie?”

She mumbled something.

Anon chuckled. “God, we made a mess, didn’t we? Sorry about that. And, uh, your bedsheets.”

She’d have to take his word for it. Indeed, things kind of felt... damp beneath her.

“We’re all sticky, too,” Anon muttered, looking down. “I think we could both use a shower.”

“That,” she breathed. “Sounds great.” With more than a little effort, she slipped off the bed, plopping unceremoniously to the wooden floor.

“Um, Anon?”

“Yeah?”

Gingerly, she tried to stand on all fours, holding the position for a moment. That is, until her back half sort of wobbled and fell limp behind her.

“I may need some help.”

Chuckling, Anon reached down to her.

“Way ahead of you, Pinks.”

The water in the bathtub lapped gently along with the movements of its occupants. No other sounds echoed in the modest room, save for the breathing of human and pony.

“Anon.”

“Hm?”

“We’re supposed to be getting clean.”

He shrugged. “Well. It’s not my fault you’re irresistible.”

Pinkie smiled despite herself, leaning against him; her hooves draped atop his shoulders for support.

Anon’s hands cupped her flanks. He eased her down, plunging his dick within the warm confines of her marehood.

“What if we make a mess?”

“We won’t make one,” he said. “Not if we’re careful.”

Pinkie sighed as he lifted and eased her down again. His motions were deliberate. Steady. The water lapped gently around them.

He’d been a bit surprised at the unusually large bathtub that dominated the room. Pinkie had been too, the first time she saw it. She suspected the Cakes built it this way for when they wanted to get more... intimate. Still, it was big enough that the two of them fit comfortably inside it, even considering Anon’s larger, taller build.

Again he lifted her and eased her down his dick. Unlike their recent, rough, spirited ruts, this one proved slow, methodical. Not without its appeal. No screams or squeals from Pinkie; no heavy pants or lustful growls from Anon. Soft groans and moaning echoed in the otherwise silent room. The water splished and splashed with a tad more vigor, not quite spilling out the rim of the tub.

A warm blush crept up Pinkie’s cheeks. She noted their position was curiously intimate; their bodies, both her and Anon’s, pressed against each other. Another advantage of his unique body type, she thought idly. Doing this with a stallion would be trickier. Still, it was new and exciting in its own way.

Her climax, as with their lovemaking, came mellow. Gentle. She pressed her head further into his chest, her grip on his shoulders tightened; but other than a prolonged, satisfied sigh from her—as well as a slight tremor that shook her body, Pinkie made no other indication of her small orgasm.

Likewise, Anon tensed. He hugged her snugly to his chest and she vaguely felt him finish inside her.

The water in the bathtub gradually calmed, not quite stilling, as both occupants caught their breath.

“Okie dokie, then,” Pinkie said. “Now we really should clean up.” She looked down, noting that Anon slipped out of her. Likewise, some of his spunk leaked out her marehood. “And, um, maybe change the water too.”

“So,” Anon said once they were back in Pinkie’s room. “Did you have any plans for today?”

Pinkie barely heard him. The two sat on the plush carpet at the foot of her bed. He’d taken it upon himself to towel off her mane, essentially giving her an impromptu scalp massage. Even with the towel to act as a barrier between her and his fingers, he still somehow managed to fill her with a warm case of the fuzzies.

“Huh?” she mumbled, her eyes closed, and lips stretched to a small, blissful smile.

“Plans,” he said more clearly. “Did you have any?”

“Hmm, not really.” With her smile morphing into a sly smirk, Pinkie half turned to regard him from the corner of her eye. “Why?”

“We’re still not done here, remember? Unless... you’ve hit your limit for today.”

Pinkie nearly laughed. She’d never seen this aggressive, horny side to him before today. She rather liked it.

“I dunno.” She slid a hoof past the folds of his own towel, lightly fondling his man meat. “Your little friend’s kinda pooped, don’tcha think?”

Anon muttered something about not being able to help it.

“Buuuut,” Pinkie said thoughtfully. “If you’re really super-duper serious about this—”

“Yep.”

“—and if you really, really want to keep this going...”

She pulled the towel off her still damp mane and reached into the wild mass of pink curls. She retrieved a crystal-clear potion vial, small enough to hold maybe two ounces of liquid, tightly sealed with a cork. Contained within it was a curious concoction, colored a vivid, nigh unnaturally bright orange hue.

“What is it?” Anon asked once she handed it over.

“That,” Pinkie said. “Is a booster shot.”

“Huh.” Anon held it up to the light. “Looks like SunnyD,” came the muttered verdict. Looking back to Pinkie, he said, “Is it safe to drink?”

Pinkie shrugged. “Probably. I mean, it’s not gonna make your dick fall off, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Anon snorted. Now there’d be a sight.

“So how are these things regulated? Is there a pony version of the FDA or...” he shook his head. “No, nevermind that. Uh, so how do you ponies get your hooves on these? Do you just pick them up at the store?”

“Nah, you gotta special order them from an alchemist. There’s none here in Ponyville and the nearest one’s waaay up in Canterlot, so... I guess that’s where everypony gets them.”

Anon hummed. “And do you need a prescription to order them?”

Pinkie cocked her head, frowning. “Huh? No. Why would we? It’s not medicine. All you gotta do is mail them an order.”

“And are there limits on how many you can order?”

“Well, no. I mean, most everypony only gets a few. You know, just in case. Although...” She tapped a hoof to her chin. “Well, word around town is Flitter and Cloud Chaser pool their bits together to order a whooole buncha them. That they keep a closet full of the stuff! And that they buy them in bulk again when they run out. But other than that... nope.”

This seemed to amuse Anon for some reason.

“You don’t say.”

“I do,” Pinkie said happily. “So? Whatcha think? You gonna try it?”

He glanced again at the potion, regarding it thoughtfully.

“Why not,” he shrugged and uncorked the vial. It came off with a loud pop. “Let’s see what happens.”

He promptly brought it to his lips and threw his head back, downing the contents in one gulp.

“Ah-ah-ah...” Pinkie panted. “Ah-nnn-nonnn.”

He seemed not to even register his spoken name, choosing instead to pound her even further into the mattress.

“My... bed,” Pinkie moaned.

“Huh?” Anon growled, barely slowing down.

Words did not come easily to Pinkie. She buried her head into the damp sheets. Anon’s relentless, pistoning motions had all but turned her insides to mush.

“You’re gonna... ah-ahhh~... you’re gonna b-break my bed.”

“I’ll buy you... a new one,” he panted through gritted teeth.

Pinkie gave up, realizing all sense of reason had all but left him.

Not a minute after he’d downed the potion, Anon rose back up to his full glory. What followed was a thrilling rollercoaster of nonstop pleasure, relentless pounding and orgasms innumerable; progressing yet not quite culminating to Pinkie’s current state. Her body felt as a limp noodle, one that could do little but loosely flop about as Anon thundered back and forth.

The small part of her brain still capable of intelligent thought wondered how it came to this. Booster shots did as their namesake suggested. It coaxed stallions out of their sheaths, inciting in them a modest surge of want to get them ready and raring for a second (or even third) round in the sheets. Safe to say, Anon completely blew her expectations.

He brought her to climax time and again, as to himself, and just... kept... going; drawing from a seemingly inexhaustible source of energy. Indeed, Pinkie considered herself far from a neophyte between the sheets. Her previous times with stallions, though fun, usually left her wanting. Rare was the partner who successfully brought her to complete and utter satisfaction, with most unable to keep up with the seemingly boundless, eager energy she brought to the table.

Not so much this time around.

Whatever the potion had done to him enabled Anon to not only keep up, but outpace her completely. She gave as good as she got at first, squeezing more than her fair share of orgasms out of him. It didn’t matter. He rutted her like a stall—er, man—possessed, pausing only for a brief rest in between sessions and taking her anew.

It almost became too much. Her marehood... no, her body was tired and sore all over. Some parts of her (mostly her legs and hindquarters) felt as limp and loose as buttered noodles. Other parts felt as dull and unresponsive as stone. Her last climax felt like a lifetime ago, her marehood driven to exhaustion, long since given its last. She could do little then but to merely brace herself and wait for Anon to rut himself to completion.

His thrusts, while losing none of their potency, gradually slowed. His breathing grew heavier, harsher still. And still he held her by her hips, hands all but leaving a red imprint as he held them up to better plunge his cock in and out of her. And then, at long last, after what felt like the better part of the day had gone by, Anon came inside her for the last time, chest heaving, his breaths ragged. Lastly, as if to signal the end to their marathon session of lust, Pinkie’s poor, abused bed groaned, then snapped and shifted, buckling beneath them.

A deep sigh of relief left Pinkie as Anon fell limp, just shy of crushing her. Slowly, laboriously, with far more effort than should have been needed, she slowly turned herself around. A small, dim part of her felt somewhat put off. Her bed—her mattress and the sheets—were damp and sticky with various fluids. More than some came from Anon, yes, but one way or another they all leaked out of her. She’d taken his load in her mouth more than once, even after he filled her holes full of seed and still the whole of her bed felt damp, just shy of being well and proper wet.

She groaned. Laundry day would come early this week, it seemed, to say nothing of her poor bed. She’d gotten it for free from Flitter some years back when she first moved to Ponyville. Even then the thing was in dire need of more than a few repairs, but growing up on a farm, Pinkie was a practiced hoof at such fixer-upper type of work.

Well, all of that could wait. Anon did not move, save for the rising of his back as he breathed. Pinkie contented herself to wait as she recuperated. The day had come and gone, and now only the light of the full moon illuminated the room. How nice of Luna, she thought. She made the moon big and bright tonight to the point she wouldn’t have to wait in a darkened room.

Beside her, Anon shifted, fully turning to lay face up. Surprisingly and to Pinkie’s slight relief, he didn’t reach for her in an attempt for one more rut.

“Well,” he said tiredly. “That was something.”

Pinkie chuckled, equally as tired. She straddled him on shaky legs, looking down with a cocky smile.

“So,” she panted. “Got another one in the tank?”

Anon blanched. He waved a hand dismissively and turned his head, letting out a raspberry.

“Oh, thank buck,” Pinie groaned, falling limp atop him. Gravity rolled her off his body and to the side.

“Sorry,” Anon said. “About your bed.”

“Yeah. It’s kinda broken.”

Anon coughed. “I meant it, you know. Getting you a new one. Just, uh, send me the bill.”

Pinkie pouted. “What? You’re not gonna help me pick one out?” Pinkie giggled as Anon stammered out a response. “Don’t worry about it, Nonon. Just as long as you help me break it in,” she finished with a wink.

Anon chuckled. “Pinkie, it would be my pleasure.”

The two contented themselves to enjoy the other’s company while recovering. Pinkie smacked her lips. Her mouth felt dry. Anon had squeezed every ounce of fluids left in her, and judging by the way he mirrored her actions, he too felt the same. But before that, a more pressing issue.

When the two of them recovered to the point they could sit up again, they found themselves in a bit of a sticky situation. Literally.

Anon grimaced as he parted his legs. The smooth skin stuck to the other at both ends, a loud, sticky sound accompanying his legs as they separated. Pinkie was much the same.

“Shower?” he said.

Pinkie nodded. “Shower.”

They went separate this time. Not because they worried about the other trying anything, but for the simple pleasure of a hot, thorough cleaning. Anon went first, to Pinkie’s insistence. Once he was done, she went in and took her sweet time. This she did on purpose, mindful to give Anon plenty of time to leave. Instead, he surprised her yet again.

Wonderful smells tickled her nose once she stepped out the bathroom. Food. Her stomach rumbled in protest. Only now did Pinkie realize she hadn’t eaten since brunch; combined with her hours-long session with Anon and she was well and truly famished.

“There you are,” Anon said from the entrance to her bedroom. “Come get it while it’s hot.”

Pinkie stared awestruck at the small spread before her. Two large plates, each stacked high with luscious, buttery scrambled eggs; a small mountain of crisp hash browns and a not inconsiderable pile of hay bacon; as well as a three-stack of fluffy pancakes, generously drizzled with syrup and a knob of rich butter on top, melting. Set aside was a bowl of diced fruit and a carton of orange juice; next to it, a tall glass bottle of iced milk, shimmering with condensation.

“Figured I’d cook for you,” Anon said. “It’s the least I could do. You know, after your bed and... well, everything else. Dunno about you but I’m starving.”

Something in her throat hitched. Pinkie stared on, dumbfounded at the delicious meal he’d splayed out along the floor.

Anon fidgeted. “Too much? I, uh, I guess I should have checked with you if it was okay. Before using the kitchen and all.”

“H-huh?” she shook her head, snapping out of the trance. “Oh, no. No. It’s, um, it looks super-duper good. Really.” Her front hoof scuffed back and forth along the floor. “It’s nice. You... you didn’t have to.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well. I figured out of all ponies, you’d appreciate a nice big meal.”

Pinkie’s eyebrows shot up. “Anon?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you just call me fat?”

“Of course not,” he scoffed. “You look great. Besides,” He nodded to the food. “It fills you up in all the right places.”

Pinkie blushed, giggling.

The food smelled great and tasted as such. For her part, Pinkie could have cleared her plate in a few seconds flat. She didn’t though. She couldn’t put it into words. Anon tackled his portion at an eager, yet more sedate pace. Pinkie found herself matching it and caught herself stealing more than a few glances at him as he ate.

Today’s events took more than a few turns she hadn’t anticipated. Chewing her food, Pinkie couldn’t even properly enjoy it. She found her thoughts drifting to the man beside her. Anon wasn’t a stallion. Today certainly proved it, in more than the obvious ways. Even after all this time he... well, it seemed that more than a few aspects of Equestrian culture went over his head.

Mare and stallion encounters, especially if the two weren’t an official item, were brief and to the point. Oh sure, there’d be foreplay and maybe cuddles, and the two would for the most part try to satisfy the other partner at play. But that’s as far as it went. To go further on the stallion’s part would hint at more than casual interest in the mare. It meant he thought her a prospective partner, one he’d be keen to lock down on a genuine, honest-to-goodness relationship.

Anon went further than that and more. Even with the unexpected surge in lust and energy the booster shot afforded him, he’d gone above and beyond what should have been acceptable for a casual encounter. Despite the sudden, insatiable hunger, he made sure Pinkie enjoyed herself. Maybe not as much at the very end, but even so. He’d been just as eager to bring her to release. He shampooed her mane in the bath and likewise, slow, intimate sex such as in that instance was far from the norm.

Fun, fast and fleeting—that was the name of the game. All Equestrian ponies knew that. Pinkie too. She hadn’t begrudged it, not given it a second thought before today, figuring she’d find an exclusive partner later down the line. Anon though, he got her thinking. Hay, how couldn’t she? He’d even gone as far as making her a fully stacked meal. No stallion had ever done that for her, for pony’ sake! Not even close. They were buddies, her and Anon. Buck buddies now, she figured. Yet throughout the day he’d acted less like that and more like a... coltfriend.

The thought did not displease her.

“Whew,” Anon sighed, leaning back to the bed’s buckled frame. “That hit the spot.” He patted his stomach for good measure.

Pinkie too looked down at her plate and realized it was empty, along with the rest of the spread.

Anon yawned. He made as if to stand up, yet now that he was fed and watered and somewhat rested, the day’s events seemed to catch up with him. Pinkie too. Her eyelids felt heavy. Her body warm, full and satisfied in more ways than one. Sore, too.

“Are you going home now?”

Anon nodded. “I probably should,” he said thickly, stifling another yawn. “Dunno about you, but I’m ready to crash.”

As he slowly, laboriously, stood on shaky legs, Pinkie said,

“Why don’t you stay the night?”

Her eyes went wide, hooves nearly slamming to her mouth in shock. Did she really just say that? Inviting a single, unattached stall—whatever, to spend the night with her? She could already see the looks in her friends’ faces if they found out.

Anon looked down, not at all displeased. “Really? You don’t mind?” Pinkie shook her head. Anon then chuckled. “You’re a lifesaver, Pinks. I don’t think I could have made the walk home like... well like this.”

This left them with the little problem of where to sleep. They couldn’t use the bed. It was, well, not an option. Luckily, Pinkie kept a collection of blankets for all occasions. Thick, heavy comforters for those colder winter months and thinner, breathable sheets for the summer days—all colored pink, naturally, and all bundled to a mostly comfortable mass. Not nearly as comfortable as a bed, but it would do the job.

Anon certainly had no complaints. He fell asleep within seconds of hitting the pillow. Pinkie’s entire body clamored for rest, yet her mind felt uneasy, thoughts coming and going by in a rush. He hadn’t balked at all at the idea of spending the night with her. She thought for sure he’d at least try and sleep in a separate room from her, yet here he was, a forehoof’s reach away. Her eyes darted up and down, all across his face. She felt a curious, tight sensation in her chest.

She closed her own eyes, hoping sleep would come. Her mind paid no such importance to these matters, restless still. Time crawled on by, and Pinkie tensed as Anon’s arm wrapped around her, pulling her in close. Still asleep, she noted, unconsciously snuggling her.

This was wrong. The sensation in her chest intensified. She was wrong. She should have stopped him long before this, explained how improper it had been to allow things to go this far. Anon didn’t know any better. It wasn’t fair to him—to her—to have let it reach this point. And still...

Pinkie gulped. Her heart hammered in her chest. Slowly, amidst shaky breaths, she leaned in and brushed her lips to his. She inhaled as he breathed out his nose, then breathed out when he in turn took in air. Pinkie’s eyes closed, her face aflame from a deep blush. Anon likely didn’t know it, but this—this sharing of air, was one of the most intimate things a pony could do with another, reserved only for the most special of someponies.

She held the position for as long as she dared, heart racing. Stupid Anon. Why? Why did he have to go and make her feel so... special? Loved, almost. It wasn’t fair. Pinkie could not say how long she held the position, but when she at last pulled away, her eyes were dazed, near unfocused; cheeks still alight in a healthy blush.

She shook her head. Whatever tomorrow might bring, she knew she couldn’t allow what happened today to be repeated. Not unless Anon knew full well what his actions, knowingly or otherwise, might send to a mare. No, for the moment, Pinkie would simply act as if nothing were amiss and if Anon came back for another round of fun with her, she’d explain thoroughly what would be proper for them both.

But at least, for tonight, Pinkie could allow herself to be selfish—to pretend she lay in the embrace of somepony who loved her.

Author's Note

Whew. Done. This whole Pinkie sequence really got away from me, ended up being twice as long than I intended. I even omitted the last part, being the aftermath and the events of the following day. Thought maybe I'd break the whole thing into five chapters instead of four but... no. I'll just work it into the following chapter.

Still, this entire four-parter was super fun to write. Hope you had just as much fun reading it.

Till next time.