It had still been morning when you left Cloudsdale, where you first captured the high of rekindled hope. Now it was nearly noon on a Canterlot-bound express, and your little pegasus body was having increasing trouble sitting so still as your mind reeled with excitement. This could change everything! It WILL change everything! You had half a mind at the moment to barrel out from this train and finish the trip on your wings alone!

Well… Maybe not something so drastic, but you couldn’t help the way you felt. This was the same mania you’d so often feel for Anon, coaxed into it before you even could process why. But— it differed in that this wasn’t mere instinct, or fantasy taking over rationale. No, you were thinking clearly now.

A scholar, no— a student, poring over the teachings of your elders and all that they would offer to share. The impatient tapping of your hooves and scribbling in your journal could only appease your desire for more so long. More insight, more wisdom, more truths that’d cut through your internalized failures and show you the path toward what you longed for.

You notice some ponies in your cabin cautiously, though politely, inch away from your seat. They must think you’re some crazy-pony, frantically writing away in her journal about sharing interests with her Anon like it was a manifesto.

Maybe they’re right.

... Good!

Let them be right!

You’ve a destiny to fulfill, and happiness that you deserve!

This train may not reach station for another thirty minutes, and that alone felt like a lifetime atop the lifetimes you’d spent aboard already, but that was alright. The Whinnyapolis Wayfarers would be starting their playoff game against The Canterlot Guardsmen soon, so said a stallion who boarded alongside you. All you had to do was get to that stadium and find Rarity’s parents.

For all your past gusto, you certainly had a knack for clamming up when the heat was on.

Well, the heat was on now.

That fire in you muffled quick when you first heard the roar of the Canterlot Gridiron, and you weren’t even inside yet. Things didn’t get any better once you were either, scanning it’s gargantuan length for two familiar faces in the sea of ponies. You weren’t one for crowds. That much didn’t really need saying, but oftentimes you’d find yourself among them, and that fact would again return to the forefront of your mind.

Like now.

”Oooh yeah honeybuns, yer squeezin’ my hog like a Prench-press against a premium dark roast!”

Only this was so much worse.

”H-hee… I-I’m glad you think so, Hondie~”

Oh, you’d found Rarity’s parents alright.

”You betta strap that fuckin’ helmet, Hondo, cause the game’s just barely past half-time.”

But they hadn’t yet spotted you.

This still had to be fate though, because- well; if Cookie Crumbles was just going to sit in Hondo Flank’s lap for the game anyway, why’d they buy two seats side by side?

”Well fuck me, filly, I don’t think I’m gonna— F-Fluttashy!?”

There it is.

Cookie whips her head back toward her husband, about ready to strike.”Calling out otha fillies names!? Hondo you no-good damn— Fluttashy!?”

You sat beside them, in the one empty seat that, you now hope, was Cookie’s original spot. It’d feel just awful if you had swiped some poor pony’s seat. Still, seeing and hearing what you’ve seen and heard now, maybe an excuse to leave wouldn’t be so bad.

You wave meekly.

“H-hi.”

Turns out, the tail hole in Cookie’s pants was multi-functional.

”W-wha in the world are you doin’ here? I didn’t know you liked Hoofball!”

You don’t.

“I-I was actually out looking for you two.”

Cookie cocks her head, never once ceasing her gentle rocking in between Hondo’s legs. ”Oh, but whadd’ya need lil’ ol’ us for deary? Is it about Rarity? Is Sweetie okay!? You know how she’s gotten a taste for those crayons, Hondo…” Apparently, Cookie Crumbles' nervousness translates directly to her vaginal contractions, if Hondo’s increasingly sweaty face is any indicator.

”N-no no, Rarity’s fine… Um, Sweetie too. I think…”

”Then whateva’s the issue, ‘Shy? I don’t mean ta’ come off as rude, Celestia no, but I mean; you comin’ out to see us all on your lonesome just reads strange—” Cookie catches herself, bobbing up in place.

Hondo looks about ready to blow.

”I mean— I just… Ya see where I’m comin’ from, donchya?”

You feel your head nod with forced robotic jank, unable to withstand looking Rarity’s mother in the face as she takes fat stallion cock in a public stadium any longer. Watching hoofball had some use to you after all.

“D-don’t worry Mrs. Crumbles, I understand. I actually came with, well, some questions. Regarding how the two of you…”

Rarity’s parents were much like Rainbow’s, in a way: Eager to share.

”Well do tell, filly! We’re all ears!”

You swallow your spit and nod. Forget your nerves, Fluttershy; you had a mission.

“I, um, well- I’ve been having relationship issues, and I just wanted to ask if you had any advice.”

Cookie gasps, her eyes bulging wide.To your horror, it makes Hondo do the same.

”Y-you!? Aww, Fluttashy! I didn’t know you of all ponies woulda found themselves pining for a colt! That’s wondahful!”

Judging from Hondo’s haggard breathing and lulled-back head, you’d think he got a much different pleasure from watching his home team score against the Canterlot Guardsmen. ”G-gah… S-so what, Shy dear? This colt don’t like you back? He a virgin or sumthin’? Hoo, fuck…”

You kept your eyes glued to the hoofball soaring through the air far below, scooting in your seat ever so slightly away from the conjoined pair. “Um… A-actually, can I just ask how you two first got together?”

Cookie coos, snuggling her head up under Hondo’s chin. ”Oh, I was a cheerleader for the Whinnyapolis Wayfarer’s back in my day; Hondo played on the O-Line!”

Hondo leans down to kiss his wife’s head. ”So cute that’chya remembah my position…”

”Oh, how COULDN’T I? I was always watchin’ you out on the field. I remember tellin’ myself: ‘Right there. That’s the colt who’s gonna be my husband.’” Cookie peers up, as if Hondo could see her eager face. ”Tell ‘er Hondie! What’d I do!?”

The bushy brows on Hondo’s eyes lay low as he closes his eyes, picturing the memory. His hooves come to wrap around Cookie’s size-too-small satin pants again and you internally scream as you see his pumps resume out of your peripherals. ”It was Homecomin’ Game, and the whole team hadn’t come back out after Halftime because Cookie ‘ere had cornered me in the lockers. Coach was furious. He goes in, face all red, ready to knock some skulls around; and wham!”

Hondo delivers a mean slap to Cookie’s exceedingly plump rump, sending all the more shockwaves through her flesh as the bouncing picks up pace yet again.”Coach finds me still in full-gear, pinned down by a cheerleader! Worse yet, all my buddies are in there cheering her on!”

”Next thing I know, we’re gettin’ carried back out onto the field by the boys, and Cookie still ain’t stopping!”

This sounds… similar to some of the attempts you’ve tried on Anon.

”Everypony’s goin’ crazy: Mares start grabbing stallions in the stands, the other team abandons the field, it’s a full blown Homecoming orgy out there ontha’ field!”

Or not.

“O-okay, um.”

Hondo doesn’t hear your passive attempt at wrangling back control of the conversation, snuffed out in the roar of the crowd. ”I proposed to this lil’ lady right there on the field that day. It’s tradition that the Whinnyapolis Wayfarer’s Homecoming game never actually finishes now ‘cause of us, heh…”

You watch as the stallions down there on the field reform into their positions, readying for the next play. A mental image of that Homecoming game rapidly forms in your mind. It’s horrifyingly vivid. You’re sweating bullets, trying to just focus on the number painted on the back of 41’s jersey.

Hondo continues, now pulled from his reminiscing as Cookie’s tongue lulls out from her mouth, sucking in ragged breaths. ”It was exhibitionism that brought us together, and heh, well, it keeps our love strong.”

Cookie archs back her head, frantically kissing at the underside of Hondo’s jawline. ”Betch’yer flank it does, Hondie! Y-you know Fluttas, ah, you might not believe this, but Hondo and I are actually makin’ love right now! H-hope you don’t mind us, oof, tellin’ you that.”

”I-I had no idea.”

With all of this clamor, it’s awfully hard to even collect your thoughts— let alone ask another question. Things aren’t helped with your newest set of ‘elders’... Enjoying one another’s bodies while regaling you with the story of their proposal, either. You’d had similar fantasies in the past, sure: Like pinning down Anon in the middle of Ponyville and making all those mares in town who must think you’re a no-hope pervert see that… Well, at least you weren’t the ‘no-hope’ part. That’s a really fun power fantasy, but not helpful to ruminate upon at the moment. Although…

“B-but, um, Mrs. Crumbles? How exactly did you ‘approach’ Mr. Flanks? Surely you didn’t just, well, take him?” You crack open your diary and ready yourself to jot down the juicy bits.

Still panting, the mare opens her mouth to respond, but is beat to the punch by Hondo. ”Oh she definitely did! She was like ah cheetah, yaknow? A jaguar! Er, which onnadose is more ferocious, cheetah or jaguar? I know you know all the differences between ‘em an such.”

“Well, I personally find both to be big softies if you just give them a chance, but—”

No, bad Fluttershy! Now’s not the time for cute, cuddly kitties!

“A-ahem. C-can you explain a bit more?”

A sweat-ridden hoof finds it’s way to Hondo’s chin, with Cookie looking up at him inquisitively. ”I didn’t know you thought I was so animalistic, Hondie.” Smug confidence oozes from her cool smile and half-lidded eyes. ”Ooh! That’s not a bad idea for next time we’re in the bedroom, dearie~”

Horror alights across Cookie’s face, and her eyes quickly glue to yours. ”Good Heavens! So sorry Fluttashy! I don’t mean to talk so rash in front uh’ve you!”

You gently wave a hoof, spitting out your pencil. “I-it’s, um, actually a bit of a relief from earlier.”

Cookie hides her eyes with her hooves. ”Sweet Celestia, ya heard our sugartalk too!?”

Before you can breathe out an apology for something that is definitely not your fault, a unicorn in the row above yours leans over. ”Everypony this side, ngh, of the stadium heard it! The only reason I didn’t call for the guards is because, well, they’re on the field right now!”

Another chimes in “I mean, it’s, unf, pretty hot too!”

The unicorn concedes with a grumbly “yeah, that too.”

”A simply, m-my word, excellent way to watch Hoofball, I say.”

...

The conversation with Rarity’s parents dies out as the three of you turn away from each other to scan the stadium. It’s broken out into frenzied orgy.

You hadn’t even noticed the shift from cheers to moans.

It was all still so loud.

The Hoofball players on the field were slowly realizing the chaos around them, their galloping slowing to a crawl as the confusion set in. Funnily enough, the two who were the cause of this had now all but stopped. Seeing the game down below stop -or perhaps from catching sight of the score- Hondo is knocked from his awe.

”OH C’MON WAYFARERS!! THEIR DEFENSE IS OPEN!! YOU’RE THREE POINTS DOWN AND AT THE FIVE-YARD LINE, MAKE-A-FUCKING-PLAY!!”

Immediately, the crowd was whipped up again in some horrible cacophony of lewd moans and enraged cheers, a positive feedback loop in which one terrible noise fuels the other as the Whinnyapolis Wayfarer’s capitalize on the situation. The Guardsmen are trucked, flung painfully into the air as they’re caught staring at the stands. You cover your eyes, not wanting to see any of… ANYTHING that’s happening either on the field or directly around you.

Cookie rests a supportive hoof on your back. ”Um… I-if it helps any, dear: I think there’s a good tip to learn here.”

"P-please don’t say tip.”

”I caught Hondo when his guard was down, it made things all the easier to, well, like he said: Be likeah animal.”

... Yeah that’s enough of a lesson.

“Y-you’re right Mrs. Crumbles okaythankyoutwogoodbyestaysafeI’lltellRarityyousaidhi!”

Taking flight faster than maybe you ever had before, you’re on your way out of the stadium before Cookie could even respond. The two watch you go, both letting out a sigh.

”Oh, you don’t think we scarred the poor thing, do ya Hondie?”

Hondo Flanks pulls his straw hat overtop his eyes. ”Gosh, I don’t think we helped ‘er any at-”

But not low enough to obscure the game.

”YES! YES! THERE WE GO WAYFARER’S, THERE WE GO!”

Author's Note

Next chapter should be out in a day or so!