“Anon! Anon! AnonAnonAnon!”

Anon nearly fell back in surprise as he spun to see the pink blur zip up to him, a cloud of dust trailing in her wake.

“Hey, Pinkie,” he said warily.

He eyed the hyperactive ball of energy in pony form. Pinkie’s cute little muzzle was scrunched up. Her body positively vibrated with nervous energy, and a strange gleam—part anticipation, part something else he couldn’t name—shone in her baby blue eyes.

“Anon, I need your help! We have an emergency!” she said urgently, hopping up and down.

“Rrrright,” he drawled. “What sort of emergency?”

Pinkie shook her head. “There’s no time! Come on, we need to go now.” She promptly circled around him and used her head to push from behind.

Somehow, impossibly, the little pink mare succeeded—nevermind the fact he was taller and heavier than her; nevermind the fact he stood firmly planted on the ground—somehow, the heels of his shoes made parallel trails across the ground as he was pushed forward by the much smaller pony. By all means an impossible, nonsensical feat, but par for the course for Pinkie Pie.

“Here’s the thing, Pinkie,” he said. “I’m actually on my way over to Applejack’s.”

She shook her head bullishly, still pushing him along. “That can wait. This is, uh, a super-duper, double decker, mega-size emergency.”

Anon hesitated. While he and the pink pony were far from strangers, he still couldn’t fully tell when she was being serious or just... Pinkie about things. He stepped to the side and Pinkie nearly fell forward but, hoping to avoid an accident and maybe keep her still for a bit (seriously, just watching her sometimes wore him out) deftly picked her up, holding her at arm’s length by gripping either side of her body. It still amazed him how light these ponies were. Especially her. He’d seen firsthand how much food she could put away.

“Now when you say emergency...”

She huffed. “I mean emergency! What else could it mean? Does that word have another meaning back on Dirt?”

“Earth, Pinkie,” he said patiently. “Now why don’t you tell me what this is about?”

“But... emergency.”

“I’m sure it can wait a moment.”

Pinkie huffed again, but didn’t argue further. She cast a look around them. Some ponies briefly stopped to see the commotion, but moved on once they caught sight of Pinkie’s unmistakable coat. Pinkie business, as the local saying went, nothing to see here.

“Pinkie?”

He was briefly struck as her baby blue eyes met his. He’d always thought they were gorgeous.

Pinkie opened her mouth, then hesitated. She (impossibly) hopped off his grip and shifted her posture. Anonymous—either by pure reflex or a helping of Pinkie logic—caught her again, carrying her bridal style.

Pinkie paid it no mind and leaned in to whisper, “It’s, uh, kiiiiind of private. Can we go somewhere else?”

“I dunno. This all sounds kind of shady.”

Pinkie pouted. “Pleeeease?”

Anon rolled his eyes, though his heart wasn’t in it. “Oh, very well.” He lowered his arms, expecting Pinkie to hop off, but she made no signs of doing so. “You getting off, or...”

She pouted again. “Why? Are you tired of me already?”

“Pinkie...”

She giggled. “Just playing, you big lug.” She wrapped her arms around him and drew close to nuzzle his neck, then hopped off. Anon smiled in spite of himself.

“Is there even an emergency?”

Pinkie nodded feverishly. “Uh-huh.”

“Alright, then. Let’s go... wherever. Lead the way.”

She did so, pronking in typical Pinkie fashion, making a beeline for...

“Sugarcube Corner?”

“Yeppers!”

“So you need help in the kitchen, or...”

Pinkie giggled. “Of course not, silly. We close early on the weekends. We’re here for something else.”

“Just as long as it’s low-key. I’m already on thin ice with the Cakes as is.”

“Oh, they’re taking the twins to Whinnyland for the week. We got the whooole place to ourselves,” she said, glancing back with a smile and a wink before entering.

Anon followed. Something in her tone... could he be imagining things? That wink, the way she leaned in to nuzzle him...

Pinkie could be quite the tactile pony. She took the boundaries of personal space as suggestions more than anything. Combine it with her overly friendly, approachable personality and one could easily mistake her friendly overtures for something more.

He shook his head. Nah, just imagining things. Pinkie being Pinkie.

“So,” he said once he entered. “What’s this all about?”

Pinkie stood at the door as she fastened the locks, her back to him, granting a perfect view of her plot. His eyes were drawn to it. Round and bubbly, but not fat. He thought it a conundrum. All that sugar, it had to go somewhere. Where, though? Whatever pudge the pink pony packed on seemed to go directly to her flanks but again, these were not fat nor flabby in any way. They looked springy—bouncy, if anything. Oof, how he’d love to get his hands on...

Anon rapidly shook his head. Where did that come from? He straightened up, willing his thoughts to not stray where they shouldn’t. Pinkie went about the dining area and closed each of the curtains. What vestigial rays did manage to penetrate cast the shop’s interior in a dim light; plenty enough for Anon to clearly see.

Satisfied nopony could take a cursory peek inside, Pinkie nodded to herself and returned to his side.

“So...?”

Pinkie grinned toothily. “Sooooo?” she repeated in a singsong voice. Something in her grin made him oddly wary.

“Why are we here?”

She giggled. “Straight to the big questions, huh? Why are we here? What is life? Is it nothing more than the endless search for a Cutie Mark? And what of this poor human, flank forever blank as he...”

“Pinkie,” he said warningly.

“Not one for deep thoughts, huh?”

“I’ll ask again, why are we here?” She opened her mouth, but Anon cut her off. “I mean for what specific reason did you bring me here?”

“I need help.”

“What with?”

“Sit down and I’ll tell you.”

Anon gave her a flat stare, unmoving.

“Pleeease?”

Still nothing.

“Please with sugar and chocolate and caramel and whipped cream and sprinkles and a cherry on top?”

He sighed. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered and reluctantly sat cross-legged on the wooden floor.

“Now close your eyes.”

“Wha... why?”

“It’s part of the surprise.”

“I thought it was an emergency.”

“That too. They’re not mutually exclusive, Nonon.”

“I’m starting to think this is all a sham.”

“No, silly! It’s an emergency. And a surprise. An emerprise!”

“That’s a terrible name. Now give me one good reason I should keep playing along with this... whatever it is.”

Pinkie hummed, tapping a hoof to her chin. Her muzzle scrunched up, lined with an uncharacteristically ponderous look.

She then smiled and brightly said, “Sunk cost fallacy.”

Anon sighed. “Fair enough.” And closed his eyes. He really should learn to put his foot down with her.

A few moments passed before he heard the soft shuffling of hooves, drawing closer and yet... yet something felt out of place. Pinkie was special. Not in a bad way, but she did have a certain air about her; a vibrant, barely restrained sort of energy that followed her everywhere she went. Hers were smiles, joy, laughter, and her mere presence alone could liven up the mood of just about every room or gathering she entered (or rather, bounded into).

But now? Now that presence felt dulled. Muted. A silence swelled over the empty establishment. Her hooves tapped the hardwood floor, softly—no, almost... hesitant? It slightly unnerved him. Pinkie drew nearer, closer, to the point Anon felt her presence. He’d wager she stood scant inches from him.

I swear, if she throws a pie at my face, I’m gonna...

“Mmph?”

He opened his eyes. Pinkie’s lips were pressed to his. They were... soft. Incredibly so. Like velvety pillows filled with the fluffiest of clouds. The kiss was chaste. Gentle. It stretched for a moment before Pinkie puckered her lips and applied the slightest bit of pressure. She then broke the kiss and backed away.

Anon sat dumbstruck as the heat rushed to his face.

“Pinkie?”

“Mmm-hm?”

“What was that?”

“A kiss.”

Anon bit back a sigh. “I figured that much. Why did you kiss me?”

“Didn’t you like it?”

“Of cour... uh, that’s beside the point,” he added hastily. “I’m just trying to understand. What, uh, what brought this on?”

Pinkie fidgeted. She tapped her hooves together. The dim light that did manage to pierce through the closed curtains cast the shop’s interior in muted colors. It made it tricky to pick out and Anon would have missed it, were his eyes not searching Pinkie’s admittedly cute face. A blush. It was slight, nigh imperceptible; the natural colors of her vibrant coat masking most of it.

“It seemed a good idea at the moment.”

Anon shook his head. It was such a Pinkie thing for her to say. His eyes traced the soft outlines of her face. Cute as a button, yes, complimented by traces of that sweet smell that clung to her like perfume—like a mix of butterscotch, nougat and the slightest bite of peppermint. You are what you eat, he mused wryly, and a thought suddenly occurred to him. Would she taste as good as she smelled?

“Did you?”

“Huh?”

Anon smirked. “That kiss. Did you like it?”

The question caught Pinkie off-guard. She blinked rapidly and broke eye contact, ducking her head. Anon watched in astonishment as her lips curved tentatively into a bashful smile. Bashful. It’s not a word he’d ever associate with her.

“Maaaaaybe.”

“This have something to do with that Pinkie Sense of yours?”

Pinkie hummed, her smile growing. “Partly that.” She locked eyes with him again. “Partly you.”

“I don’t get it.”

A glint of mischief sparkled in her eyes. “Oh, I think you do.” Before he could respond, Pinkie said, “Where were you earlier today?”

“McDerpy’s.”

“Before that.”

“Uhh, the library?”

“After that.”

“I, um, R-Rarity. I helped with her shopping.”

“Is that it?” Pinkie said. Her smile gained an impish quality to it and she approached Anonymous, her hooves echoing in the quiet eatery. “You didn’t, hmm, help her with anything else?” She drew closer. So close to the point Anon thought Pinkie aimed for another kiss. Instead, she nuzzled the right side of his face, inhaling quick little bursts of air.

“You smell like Rarity.” Before he could retort, Pinkie touched the tip of her tongue to him, trailing it along his cheek. She giggled. “You taste like her too.”

Anon flushed at the blatant implication. “You,” he croaked. “You and Rarity?”

Pinkie hummed. “Once or twice.” She didn’t feel like elaborating further, choosing instead to capture his lips with hers. Unlike the previous kiss though, this one wasn’t gentle.

Pinkie’s nostrils flared, sighing in contentment. She shoved her tongue into his mouth, running it along the ridges of his teeth, poking at the points of his canines. For his part, Pinkie’s sudden assault left Anon dumbstruck. Eventually his brain caught up to the fact a cute mare literally threw herself at him and thus responded in kind.

She tasted sweet. Like candy. He couldn’t hold a candle against her larger pony tongue, but that did not mean he didn’t respond to her assault in kind. Pinkie hummed as his hand snaked to the back of her head, grabbing a fistful of her impossibly bouncy mane.

Unknown to Anon, all mares were sensitive in this spot. It’s where a stallion would bite and pull when mounting them from behind. Pinkie broke the kiss, groaning when he tugged those curly locks. She giggled and squealed in delight as he peppered kisses down along her neck, and shivered when he tugged again, harder this time, at her poofy mane.

“You.” He kissed her.

“Smell.” And again.

“Good.” And once more for good measure.

Pinkie nuzzled the crook of his neck. “That’s my line, silly billy.”

Again their lips found each other, their kiss more restrained, but no less enthusiastic. His teeth were so... different. They had edges, ridges and points that pony teeth simply didn’t. Pinkie traced them with her tongue, oddly fascinated by them, over to the point it left the tip of her tongue red and raw.

When they broke again, the two were flushed and lightly panting. Pinkie noticed an odd look come over his face and asked,

“What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he said quickly. “It’s not, um...” he cleared his throat. “Today took a few turns I didn’t expect, is all.”

It’s not like Pinkie hadn’t offered him a good time before, inviting him to a ‘private party for two’ to help him loosen up or some nonsense. Probably more for her benefit than anything else. And the last time it came up had been over a year ago, and Pinkie gave no indication she even still entertained the idea. Anon merely figured she’d written him off as a potential partner altogether.

“Oh, that?” she said. “Rarity said we shouldn’t push it. She said you’d want to have fun when and if you were good and ready.”

Anon chuckled. “Yeah, that Rarity. She’s such a considerate... wait, wait. What?” He stared shrewdly at Pinkie. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

“Huh?”

“We.”

“Us?”

“No. ‘We’.”

“Yeah, you and me. What of it?”

“No, I... what you said before.”

“Us?”

“That... that’s not... you said...”

Anon’s face rapidly grew redder, though unlike some times when dealing with Pinkie, this did not stem from frustration alone. Their little make out session resulted in the two of them coming into contact. Very close contact. Even now she more or less sat on his lap, resting her springy flanks atop his legs. He held her in his arms and only now began to appreciate how soft she was. How warm. He could hold on to her forever and so came a thought, overtaking and bulldozing any trivial questions he might have had. How amazing would it be to snuggle her in bed?

He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

“Oh, damn it all to hell.”

He opened his eyes to see Pinkie. Her playful little smile was absent, replaced instead by a worried frown. She hesitated and started to say something when Anonymous grabbed her by her mane and mashed his lips to hers.

He’d had but a taste of a mare with Rarity, and found he liked it. He liked it very much. And now, with another willing mare at his hands, Anonymous indulged himself.

Pinkie’s squeak of surprise was muffled by their joining lips. She groaned, her eyelids fluttering as he roughly grabbed another fistful of her mane and pulled. His larger frame swiftly overpowered her small body, and she found her back pressed to the wooden floor.

The world grew faint for Pinkie. A muggy haze settled over her mind and an utterly foreign thrill shot up her spine as the normally composed Anonymous was now as a beast, panting—near growling—as he attacked her lips with his own, looming large atop her and completely and utterly dominating her.

When he at last pulled away, his face flushed, his chest heaving as he drew large breaths and the lustful haze receding from his own head, Anonymous regarded the little mare pinned beneath him with clearer eyes.

Propped on his hands and knees, Pinkie appeared curiously small. A deep blush graced the soft features of her face and her baby blue eyes, previously glazed over, now regained their focus. Her hooves were folded over her chest, rising and contracting as she pulled slow, deep breaths from her half-open mouth.

Anonymous gulped. She looked so helpless. So ready to allow whatever he might have wanted and damn him if she didn’t look as decadent and scrumptious as the plethora of baked goodies she so loved to make.

For a moment he worried he’d gone too far, been too forceful with the little mare, but relaxed somewhat as her lips pulled into a small, dopey smile.

“Wow,” she breathed, her voice so small he struggled to hear it amidst the pounding blood in his ears. “That was... wow.”

Anonymous let a brief harsh laugh.

“You know,” he said, panting. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you planned for something like this to happen.”

Pinkie’s smile grew, but she remained silent. The playful gleam in her eyes all but confirmed it.

“Hmm-mm. Hoped, maybe,” she said coyly.

“I see.”

Pinkie giggled as his fingernails ran over her belly.

“And what else—”

A soft squeak as his fingers lightly pinched one of her teats.

“—were you hoping for?”

Words did not come easily. Not as he pulled and teased at it, rolling it between his fingers. Pinkie squirmed beneath him. Her blush threatened to return in full force, so wonderful were the sensations those squiggly fingers of his granted, and when he used his other hand joined in and took her other teat as its plaything, Pinkie could not hold back the moans and squeals of delight they evoked from her.

Another haze settled over her, not at all like the previous one, so heavy and overpowering it rendered her nearly helpless, no; this one was lighter, softer, and it filled her with a giddy sort of joy that left her lightheaded.

So eager to lose herself in the moment, Pinkie barely registered one of his hands leave her teat, trailing lower and lower. She stiffened, and a sharp intake of breath as his fingers brushed the outer lips of her marehood.

Pinkie opened her mouth and merely forcing the words out was a task unto itself.

“Stop. Wait.”

His fingers pulled away and though Pinkie regretted they took those incredible sensations with them, it allowed her to gather her thoughts.

“Not here,” she panted.

“Oh... did you want to stop?”

“Stop? Stop?” Pinkie said incredulously. She cupped her hooves onto his face and pulled him in for a deep kiss. “No, silly billy,” she giggled. “We’re just getting started.”

“Oh. So why did you...”

Pinkie gave a good-natured roll of her eyes. “Well we can’t do it here, dummy! Look around you.” She waved her leg over the empty restaurant. “Do you know how many health codes we’d be violating doing the Pony Pokey in here?”

“Uh, no?”

“I don’t either! But we’d probably get in trouble.” Grimly, she continued. “Trust me, you do not want to mess with Big Health.” She promptly pronked over to the base of the stairs. “So if you wanna see where this goes and...” Blushing, she glanced back to Anon and hitched her tail, granting him a full, uncensored view of her puffy ponut and winking marehood. “And stuff mama Pinkie with your rich cream filling,” she giggled at the crass joke. “Get that juicy monkey butt up in here!”

Anonymous needed no further prompting and chased after her, racing up the stairs amidst her joyous laughter.

Author's Note

Been kinda sorta toying with the idea of breaking up the story into smaller chapters. The thinking is it'll help cut down on those unacceptable months-long gaps between updates. Let's see how it goes.