It was the second day of the con, and there she was - the same svelte, petite RD cosplayer who'd so raptly captured your attention from the day before. You can still clearly envision the first time you laid eyes upon her limber frame - those pert, perky little breasts showing so clearly through the appropriately tight blue fabric of her t-shirt, complete with Dash's cutie mark in the centre. A set of custom-made, light blue felt wings sat on each shoulder blade, bobbing this way and that with every step.
The ensemble was completed with an expertly-dyed, short head of rainbow hair; an aspect of the whole presentation that really brought it all together for you.
Understandably, you were nervous - but now was hardly the time for awkwardness. You knew you had to talk to her.
Gathering up your courage, you nervously balled your fists at your sides, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself. You weren't exactly what you might call a 'ladies' man,' but you knew that you'd chastise yourself for passing up on the opportunity to at least have a friendly chat with what was clearly a very cool - and, moreover, insanely attractive - girl.
You cleared your throat.
"Um, hey."
Smooth.
She turned at the sound of your throat clearing, her eyes meeting yours for the very first time. With a bit of a start, you notice that her eyes are coloured magenta - just like Rainbow Dash's!
"Y-your eyes-" you stammer, "-how?"
She cocks a crooked smirk at your verbal faux-pas.
"Oh, these things?" She makes a gesture. "Coloured contacts. Pretty cool, huh?"
"Damn straight," you blurt out with unabashed enthusiasm, momentarily forgetting to keep your cool.
She chuckles. "Yeah, been getting a lot of compliments on them. Kind of a last-minute idea, but hey - it kinda ties the costume together, dontchya think?"
The two of you really seem to hit it off after your initial bit of awkwardness, much to your pleasant surprise. After chatting for a while, she was joined by a few of her friends, also cosplayers - one appropriately nerdy-looking Twilight Sparkle, a really rather hideous Fluttershy, and - oddly enough - a somewhat portly Mayor Mare. She introduced the three as her friends, and the four of you exchanged pleasantries before your Rainbow Dash said that she had to part - but not before exchanging cell phone numbers with you, to your ever growing elation.
The rest of the day was filled with your typical con fare - you attended a few panels, queued in line to get autographs from various in-community celebrities and show staff, even bought yourself a well-crafted RD plushie: sure, it set you back a good forty dollars or so, but it was totally worth it.
As the second day of the con wound to a close, you found yourself absentmindedly milling about, secretly hoping you'd run into the Rainbow Dash cosplayer from earlier. Well, as luck would so have it, you eyed her and her group of friends conversing amongst themselves as they approached the exit.
This presented a bit of a dilemma, as you have a tendency to overthink things somewhat, especially in any given social situation - and especially when members of the opposite sex are involved. Do you approach them and risk seeming annoying or somewhat creepy? If you do decide to initiate contact, what should be your approach? Casual? Confident? Comedic?
A familiar voice, though, interrupts your internal monologue.
"Hey, Anon!" You look up to see your Rainbow Dash waving you over with a grin on her face, which you return in kind. You strike up another conversation with the group, where you quickly learn that the four of them plan on getting a few rounds in at a local bar - incidentally, the bar in the hotel in which you all happen to be staying. Praising your seemingly supernatural good fortune, you politely ask if you might be able to join them. Hearing no objections from her fellow females, your Rainbow Dash says that that sounds like a great idea.
Fast forward a few hours and a half-dozen rounds, and the five of you are feeling pretty good. The frankly freakish Fluttershy is the first of them to retire, citing a headache - you mentally breathe a sigh of relief, as you more than once found yourself staring rather rudely at her rather obvious snaggletooth. The borderline-obese Mayor Mare was the next, followed by extra-nerdy Twilight Sparkle, leaving just yourself and her.
"And then there were two," you solemnly intone, causing her to snicker.
"Indeed," she says in response.
Not exactly sure where to lead the conversation from that moment, you reach into your pocket to grasp your cell phone to see if you've any new text messages. You manage to fumble the phone, however, causing the damned contraption to clatter noisily to the floor. Leaning forward without really thinking, you find yourself suddenly in the face of your Rainbow Dash: your eyes meet, and the two of you dart forward simultaneously.
It was unexpected - perhaps a bit insane, even - but the moment your lips pressed firmly against hers for the very first time, you could have sworn your felt electricity pass between the two of you. Your hand moving on its own accord, you reach up and grasp the side of her slender, toned neck, brushing your fingertips across her jawline as she leans into the kiss.
Your lips wrestle against hers for dominance, the two of you testing each others' boundaries, seeing what lines can - and will - be crossed. Your tongue darts outward, somewhat tentatively at first, but gaining confidence as your press yourself into her mouth, and you feel her tongue reach out and greet the tip of your own. You feel her moan wordlessly into your breath as her tongue darts into your mouth in turn, tracing along the insides of your upper teeth.
You feel a great disturbance in your pants; you are somewhat certain, though, that the feeling is mutual. The two of you break off the kiss before things get too heated - you are still in public, after all. Your eyes go slack for the briefest of moments as you see the thin, almost intangible strand of saliva connecting your upper lip to her lower.
As a mutual, unspoken agreement is formed between the two of you, you quickly settle up your tab and take her hand in yours, practically dashing (ha-ha) towards the nearest elevator. You curse under your breath as you mash the "door close" button repeatedly, causing her to giggle - a sweet, simple sound that dances across the air and into your ears.
"Take me," she practically moans as she locks her arms around the back of your neck, a smoldering gaze set upon her face as she locks eyes with yours. You don't have to be told twice.
As the elevator is in mid-ascent, you press the "emergency" button without a second thought, causing an alarm to go off as the cab screeches to a halt. The sudden stop of motion makes her little breasts jiggle under her tight t-shirt, and you notice her nipples have begun to stick out from beneath the fabric.
"I figure we've got about ten minutes before they call the fire department," she says, the added danger of the situation - the fear of getting into trouble, of possible repercussions - only adding to her excitement and arousal.
Nodding in determination, you dive forward, and the two of your share yet another impassioned, fiery kiss. You fumble with your own t-shirt, practically tearing it off your chest as she does the same. Pinkie Pie pops her head in through the square-shaped cutout in the ceiling, watching the ongoing developments, clopping furiously, her juices flowing freely from her pink pony pussy. Applejack is now the carpet underneath your feet, and makes outwardly racist remarks, disparaging zebra and mule alike. Twilight Sparkle and Rarity now form each side of the elevator door, split right down the middle. Rarity looks positively incensed, while Twilight lectures the now distinctly equine Rainbow Dash on the potential dangers of inter-species copulation. Fluttershy, too embarrassed to be in this scene, smokes pot with the ghost of Ray Charles on the hotel's rooftop.
You thrust your throbbing, six-headed cock into Rainbow Dash's cavernous shit chute with little warning and littler lubrication, causing her to moan with ecstasy. Pinkie Pie is taking pictures with her iPhone 6 and posting them directly to tumblr as fast as equinely possible. Twilight Sparkle has gone silent, a blush adorning her metal elevator cheeks, while elevator door Rarity is now attempting to suck one of your dicks. You tell her to fuck right off, because sticking even one of your dicks in an elevator door is just asking for trouble.
Applejack begins to complain loudly as the juices from your vicious anal reaming drip onto her floor-face, but you pay her little attention, as everyone knows that Southerners aren't really people. You find the act of being watched insanely arousing, and as you reach your climax, you shout forbidden curses in ancient Hindi as you come live bees. The bees buzz around in Rainbow's rectum, unsure of and understandably perturbed by their new environment. Rainbow Dash, vexed and perplexed by her recent rectally requisitioned anal apids, sees fit to communicate with you in morse code, of all things:
"-.-- --- ..- / .- -.-. - ..- .- .-.. .-.. -.-- / --. --- --- --. .-.. . -.. / .- / -- --- .-. ... . / -.-. --- -.. . / - .-. .- -. ... .-.. .- - --- .-. / - --- / .-. . .- -.. / - .... .. ... --..-- / -.. .. -.. -. .----. - / -.-- --- ..- ..--.."
Her constant beeping wears on your nerves, understandably. When the beeping ceases to end, though, you feel the walls of reality collapsing in on themselves.
The alarm continues to go off. You hit the snooze button.
"What a weird fucking dream."
