Welcome to Friendship Country
Welcome to Friendship Country
An erotic fanfiction by your Friendly Uncle
Loosely based on characters, places, and concepts from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
The following short story is sexually explicit and will probably send you and everyone within a ten foot radius of you while you’re reading it straight to Pony Hell. By continuing to scroll downwards you hereby assert that you are of legal age to view sexually explicit materials in the area where you live and consequently give up any and all rights to take legal action against the author for any emotional damages you may incur as a result of reading this fanfic. Friendly Uncle does not in any way shape or form claim ownership of any of the characters used for this story and makes no money from the writing or distribution of this fanfic. All hail the God-Empress Celestia, long may she rein!
-
Ponyville.
The word conjured up a lot of images in your mind before you moved here, most of them involving small horses, but you find that you prefer the reality. There are, in actuality, relatively few ponies within Ponyville itself; the town's name coming from the numerous horse farms existing nearby. This far out in the country there are horses on the roads, and you've seen plenty in the outlying fields, but the town itself is much like any quaint little country burg in Equestria, and not populated by multicolored ponies as you fancifully imagined.
The people here are a little rustic, but friendly, and you find yourself smiling and waving at just about everyone you pass on the street and getting a warm response in return each time. Your apartment is one of several rooms in a large old house close to the edge of town, so you've been doing a lot of walking while you stock up on essentials for your new dwelling, but you're fit enough to find the exercise enjoyable rather than taxing. Still, you find yourself thinking it's about time to take a break when you spot her.
Unusual hair color seems to be an Equestrian trademark, but even so you've never seen a head as pink as the one heading down the road towards you right now. The bouncy mass of curls is situated above a pair of large round blue eyes and the biggest, happiest smile you've ever seen. The young woman seems to exude energy even as she walks, her too-big blue tee shirt and ruffly pink skirt accentuating her movements as she almost bounces along. Her entire body is full of motion and rhythm, as if she's dancing to a tune only she can hear.
Then she spots you, and stops dead in her tracks.
That's a new one. Since moving into town you've been smiled at, waved to, greeted with an enthusiastic "howdy!", and once someone offered to buy you a drink, but nobody has just stopped and stared at you yet. Yet there the girl stands, eyes wide as she looks you up and down, mouth drawn up in a cute frown. You can practically see the calculations going on in her head, as if you're something she's never encountered before and she's trying to work out the ramifications of your presence.
You're about to raise a hand and wave when her train of thought apparently comes into station and her face lights up in realization. She gasps loudly, leaping up in the air, and immediately turns and flees as fast as her feet can carry her. You're left standing awkwardly on the dirt road, completely flummoxed. After a few moments of careful consideration, you decide you probably don't want to know, and return home by the shortest route possible.
-
A few hours later the incident has been put more or less out of your mind and you're undertaking the daunting task of unpacking your belongings and figuring out how to situate them in your new space. So absorbed are you in the process of deciding where the T.V. should go that when you realize someone is knocking on the door you have no idea how long they've been there. If you were less distracted you might wonder who it could possibly be, you don't really know anyone in town yet, but as it is you rush over to the door as quickly as you're able.
It's her. You blink in surprise as a huge grin spreads across her face and she holds out her hand to you, offering what appears to be a small pink envelope. You open your mouth to thank her as you take it, but she's beaten you to that and starts talking as soon as the envelope leaves her hand.
"Hi there! Sorry to just barge in unannounced like this I hope I'm not being too forward my friends are always saying I'm too forward. 'Pinkie, you're too forward', they say, but we actually met just a little while ago! Do you remember? I'm the one that saw you and went *Gasp!* and ran away! And I'm sorry I ran away I realized after I ran away that you probably thought I was running away from you but that's not what I was doing at all! See I know everybody in town but when I saw you I realized I didn't know you so that means you haven't been in town before so that means you're new! And if you're new that means you don't have an invitation so here's your invitation! I hope you like it, I made it myself!"
Any response you could make dies in your throat in the face of that, and you find yourself dumbly opening the envelope and looking inside. Sure enough, you're holding a homemade invitation, a piece of card upon which someone has carefully handwritten:
YOU'RE INVITED TO A PARTY!
EIGHT O'CLOCK TONIGHT AT SUGARCUBE CORNER
Dress is casual, refreshments are provided, and be ready to dance!
DON'T MISS IT
She smiles giddily while you read it, her eyes dancing with barely withheld laughter. She's constantly in motion, wriggling her hips and bouncing on the balls of her feet as you watch. You've never met someone with so much... enthusiasm. You feel tired just watching her.
"Can you make it?" she asks when you've clearly had enough time to read the note, bunching up her hands into fists and holding them under her chin. "Oh I hope you can make it! I know it's awfully short notice but I'd really be awfully super excited if you could come! Please say you'll come!"
It's infectious, and you find yourself smiling wider than you have in a while when you tell her you'll be there. Her eyes light up and she jumps into the air in glee, cheering at the news. Your eyes widen a bit, both at her overreaction and at the interesting way the front of her shirt moves with her. You hadn't really noticed how well endowed she was before, but now you find yourself chuckling at the thought that such a bouncy girl would naturally have so much to bounce with. If she notices that your smile has become slightly embarrassed she doesn't show it, and beams at you just as happily as before, seizing your hand in hers and shaking it rapidly.
"Oh, and before I forget, my name's Pinkamena! But everybody just calls me Pinkie Pie. Welcome to Ponyville!"
-
You don't have much more time for unpacking after that, don't want to go to a party unshowered and unkempt after all, so your apartment's not in much better shape when you head out. As you're locking your door it occurs to you that the invitation doesn't actually provide you with an address, and you briefly wonder how on Earth you're expected to find the place. As soon as you think this, however, a man in a brown suit walks up to you with a helpful smile on his face.
"Hello there old chap," he says, "couldn't help noticing you looked a bit lost. Anything I could help with?"
"There is, actually. I don't suppose you could direct me to Sugarcube Corner?"
The man's smile grows wider, and he simply gestures towards the town proper.
"Just head for the town square," he says, "you can't miss it."
Not long after, you find yourself staring up at a truly remarkable edifice. A storefront has been constructed so as to almost perfectly mimic the appearance of an enormous gingerbread house. Recalling the words of the man who sent you here, you find yourself somewhat awed and filled with the ambition to one day master understatement to the degree that he clearly has. Noting on your watch that the time is in fact eight o'clock sharp, you walk up and open the door.
"Theeeeeere he is!" Pinkie sing songs as she almost tackles you from the side, seizing your arm in a vice-like grip. "He's here everybody! Let the games begin!"
You're about to comment when you catch sight of the banner, and then your mouth falls open in shock. A large cloth banner has been stretched from one side of the shop to the other, serving as a backdrop to the balloons, streamers, and various other multicolored decorations that are currently making the place as festive as humanly possible. And on that banner, in huge pink letters, are the words "Welcome to Ponyville!" followed by your name.
"Wait... this... this is for me?"
You're completely incredulous, but Pinkie just laughs and hugs you briefly around the shoulders.
"Well of course it's for you, silly billy! Why else would I be throwing a party after running into you? Because it's your welcome to Ponyville party of course!"
You're staring at her now, waiting for something to make sense, but she's just grinning up at you as genuinely as before. You can hear other people talking and laughing in the background, but you've tuned them out for the moment. Pinkie Pie is clutching your hand in hers and she's smiling and oh god that smile and none of this makes any sense at all.
"You're saying you just... do this? When someone's new in town you just throw them a party?"
"Yeah!" she chirps, "I mean, how else are you gonna meet everybody if we don't throw a welcome to Ponyville party and invite everyone so you can meet them? Duh! Now come on, let me introduce you to my friends!"
Still not entirely sure this is happening, you allow yourself to be dragged across the floor to a group of five women who are standing by the punch table, watching you arrive with obvious amusement. You find yourself shaking hands with a bespectacled girl in a purple sweater vest while Pinkie grabs her around the shoulders encouragingly.
"This is Twilight Sparkle! She's the librarian!"
"My parents were hippies," Twilight explains, "and don't say anything about the damn books, I've heard everything."
Pinkie rolls her eyes and ushers you over to two women who are just now looking up from a heated discussion. The ponytailed blond in the stetson is red in the face and flustered as she briefly takes your hand, but her smile is warm and genuine. Her friend, an athletic girl in cyan sweats with hair dyed all the colors of the rainbow, grins confidently at you and shakes your hand firmly, with just a bit of a squeeze.
"This is Applejack," says Pinkie, referring to the woman in the cowboy hat, "her family runs the apple farm just outside of town. And we call her Rainbow Dash," she pauses and gives the second woman a hug, "she's in the Air Force, but she's also the best prankster in Ponyville!"
The next woman introduces herself. She's a bit overdressed for the occasion, but from the way she carries herself you can guess she's not used to casual dress. Her perfectly coiffured hair plays over her shoulders and a wry smirk twists her lips as you take her pale hand and, with as much dignity as you can muster, kiss the back of it.
"I'm Rarity," she says simply, "I run the boutique across the street. Come on over if you ever need some new clothes, I do all types of work."
"Aaaaaaand this," says Pinkie, leading you further down the line, "is... is... hey, where's Fluttershy?"
Something behind Rarity squeaks, and Pinkie grabs another girl and drags her out from behind her friend. Fluttershy is all yellow sweater and pink hair, the latter hanging in front of her face like a slightly parted curtain that she peeks through nervously. You smile as gently as you can, but all you get in return is a quiet "Hi" before she ducks back to safety behind her other friends.
"Don't worry," says Pinkie Pie, giggling, "she's always like that. Now let's get you some punch!"
The party is underway in earnest now, and after making sure you know where to find the drinks and snacks Pinkie Pie cuts you loose to mingle. Despite the obnoxiously festive atmosphere the party is really very well-suited to casual conversation, with lively but quiet music and plenty of tables to sit at. You make the rounds, and find yourself meeting a variety of new people. You get the impression that nicknames are extremely common here, and nobody really knows or cares what everyone's real names are. The town also seems to be roughly 80% female, not that you're complaining.
One thing everyone has in common is sympathy for your confusion with Pinkie Pie.
"Oh yeah, she's definitely a handful," chuckles Mr. Cake, Sugarcube Corner's ginger-haired proprietor, "but you mark my words young man, you've never met a happier girl with a bigger heart. Now we tend to be pretty friendly around these parts, but throwing parties for every new arrival? Her idea. And it works, too. She's a little different, Pinkie is, but she's got a good head on her shoulders, and I wish I had more helpers like her."
"Is that her natural hair color?"
"No idea."
-
It's past midnight when the party finally winds down and the last of the stragglers, a slightly inebriated Applejack helping to support a somewhat more inebriated Rainbow Dash, make their way out the door. You chuckle to yourself as you start cleaning up, collecting cups and plates and bottles and tossing them into the garbage. You're pondering whether or not the vinyl tablecloths can be used again when you hear a soft gasp behind you and turn to see a wide-eyed Pinkie Pie, once again looking at you in genuine surprise and wonder. You briefly ponder if perhaps she hasn't forgotten who you were and if another party isn't in the offering.
"Oh gosh," she says, walking over to you, "I didn't realize anyone was still here. What are you doing?"
She's still bubbly, but it's more subdued now than earlier. Her hair has lost a bit of its bounce and her smile is a little softer, her voice just a bit quieter. You raise an eyebrow at her and gesture to the napkin you're using to wipe down one of the tables, explaining that you're just cleaning up a little. She cocks her head to one side as if that's a foreign concept to her.
"But you're a guest," she says, "you don't need to worry about cleaning up."
"Well, it was my party," you reply with a smile, "and I appreciate you going to the trouble. Just trying to say thanks, eh?"
She grins delightedly, and gives you a quick hug before settling in to help. It's mostly a matter of throwing away what needs to be thrown and putting the rest in the sink or the fridge, and between the two of you it's done quickly. As you look around, trying to see if there's anything else that needs doing, she comes up and gives you another, bigger hug, wrapping her arms around you and pulling your bodies close. You stiffen a little, in more ways than one, as you feel her chest gently smoosh against you, but you manage to return the hug just as firmly.
"Thanks," she says softly, leaning her head on your shoulder, "nobody usually stays behind to help clean up afterwards. It's kind of depressing sometimes, when I'm all alone after a party, and there's nobody there with me... and... I guess I kind of burn out a little... but you helped. Thanks."
You don't know what to say. It's hard to imagine that the vulnerable girl clinging to you now is the same as the bouncing ball of energy that dragged you in here earlier, but your heart swells to think that she'd confide in you this way. You hug her more firmly, resting your chin on her shoulder, and tell her it was the least you could do. You feel her breath on your ear and then shiver at the soft touch of her lips as she plants a gentle kiss on your cheek.
Then she goes very still, and you're confused for a second before you feel her shifting her hips subtly forward, and her stomach presses against the front of your pants.
"Guess you've got a little party left in you," she says slyly, and some of the blood rushing downwards has to stop and make a detour to your face so you can blush.
"Uh, sorry..."
"Oh, no!" She chuckles and gives you another squeeze before pulling back enough to look you in the eye, and she's grinning at you again, possibly at the mere idea that she'd be embarrassed about anything. "It's fine. I take it as a compliment. Really."
"Well, I mean, it is," you stammer, trying to stop talking but apparently determined to make as big of an ass of yourself as possible, "I mean, you're... you're really cute, Pinkie. It's kind of overwhelming."
She giggles at that, and now there is the ghost of a blush on her round cheeks, but when she focuses on you again her eyes are half-lidded, and her grin has gone slightly devious. This does nothing to your erection but encourage it, of course.
"You know, I meant it when I said I was too forward, earlier," her voice is quiet now, not laughing but still full of mirth. "My friends are always telling me I should take things slow... but you know, I always thought... if you want something, as long as nobody's getting hurt, why wait for it? If it makes you happy..."
"... it can't be that bad," you murmur, and she's pressing herself against you again, very deliberately this time, and you suck in a breath as you feel yourself settle warmly against the gentle swell of her lower belly. Pinkie giggles huskily in your ear and pecks you on the cheek again. She leaves a trail of short, sharp kisses along your jaw before coming to a stop, hovering over your lips, her hot, sweet breath filling your nostrils and you feel like you're slowly going crazy.
"Tell me if I'm being too forward," she whispers, and then you close the gap yourself and that wonderful mouth is pressed against yours and you can feel her laughter, sweet as sugar, bubbling out around your kiss.
You don't know who opens their mouth first but it isn't a moment too soon when her tongue is dancing against yours, stroking and tickling the inside of your teeth. Her hands stroke up and down your back, scratching you gently and kneading your muscles, and then one slips downward to grab your ass. She lets out a quiet "Mm!" of appreciation as she gropes you, and then a tiny squeal of approval when you return the favor, palming the fleshy globe of her bottom and loving the sensation of it squeezing between your fingers.
She's bouncing again now, pressing herself against you in little spurts, never content to stay still for more than a second at a time. Her pelvis rubs insistently against yours and you have just enough presence of mind, despite the delightful friction and that intoxicating kiss, to run your hand down under the curve of her ass to hook her thigh over yours. You tilt your leg upwards just so and she moans, loudly now, and rubs herself slowly but firmly up and down your thigh, quivering in delight. Her skirt is hiked up to her hips now and you can feel the heat of her through her panties and through your pants, pressing against you, ready and eager.
She pulls away from your mouth at last with a gasp and a sigh, giving you the smokiest look you've ever seen as she reaches down and pulls her shirt up over her head. You can see why she wears it a little loose now; some people, stupid people, might say that Pinkie Pie was a little on the chubby side. You think she's absolutely beautiful, the sensual curve of her little pot belly just serving to accentuate the rise of her truly spectacular breasts. She deftly unhooks her hot pink bra, and you can feel yourself go hard as steel as her big round tits spill out, sagging gently under their own weight. Pinkie lets out a disappointed groan as you pull your leg away from her, and then coos excitedly as you bend to trail kisses down her neck and all over those amazing breasts.
You pleasure her gently at first, stroking her soft flesh and teasing her with quick, hard kisses, but then you slip one nipple into your mouth and feel it harden, and when she asks you to bite it you see no reason to go halfway. Her fingernails rake up and down your back as you gnaw at her, taking her squeals and moans for approval. Alternating between the two boobs, you pinch the tip of one while you apply your teeth to the other, stopping only when she laughs and pulls your shirt over your head.
By the time you've untangled yourself she's kneeling in front of you, her skirt already having disappeared mysteriously into the aether and her only remaining garment a pair of light blue panties with a balloon pattern on the backside. She immediately gets to work on your zipper, and you have a few precious seconds to drink in the sight of her. Then your cock is out and time seems to slow to a crawl as her hand slowly strokes up one side of it, pressing the other against her cheek as she smiles up at you. She wants you to watch as she slowly, deliberately strokes you with the flat of her hand while she brings her mouth up to suckle oh so gently on the head.
You're balancing on the balls of your feet in anticipation as she sinks lower, pulling you into her hot wet mouth, and you don't know how you're not coming right then and there. Your fingers twist, gently, into her pink curls and you can feel her smiling around you as she bobs up and down, her tongue flicking against your length. It's torture, and it's absolutely incredible. She has you, quite literally, by the balls, and there's nothing you can do but stand there and let her work her magic.
You think she'd finish you here if you let her, and gladly, but you're determined to show her a good time too. You manage to get enough control to tug, still gently, but insistently upwards on her hair until she lets you pop out of her mouth and trails a series of quick sloppy kisses up your body. Then she's pressed against your mouth again and giggling again, her fingers dancing up your sides and her nipples poking your chest. You join in the laughter, grinning at her as you kick your pants the rest of the way off your legs, and then gesture behind her. She's confused for a split second, until she notices the heavy table she's standing in front of, and then the grin and the look she flashes you are pure sex.
She hops up onto the table and lays back languidly, shooting you another sultry look, but you're already there, fingers walking up her thighs. Pinkie giggles as you take that fabulous ass of hers in your hand again, your fingers practically sinking into her soft flesh. Then she gasps, eyes going wide and then sinking closed, as your other hand works its way into her panties. She's already sloppy wet, and your finger slides in easily, followed shortly by another one. She cries out softly, biting her finger, and you grin as you begin to work your digits in and out of her, letting your palm press down on the top of her mound, rubbing harder and harder until her legs stiffen and she lets out a squeal.
You want to finish her off, hopefully the first of many, but as you press your thumb onto her clit and her exclamations start becoming more inarticulate she grabs your wrist and reluctantly pulls your hand out of her. Getting the hint, you grab her panties and pull them down her legs, tossing them blindly over your shoulder once they're off her. She grins widely at you and spreads her legs, using one hand to frame her dripping sex and the other to beckon you closer.
"Come on," she moans, "put it in my party hole."
You almost lose it. Pinkie probably wouldn't mind you pausing to laugh your ass off, but you're pretty sure it would kill the mood at least a little, so you endeavor to stifle the giggles as you move in between her thighs and press yourself against her. The heat against your cock is intense, and you're already struggling to retain some kind of control as you position yourself and finally... oh god.
"Yeeesssss..." she hisses through her teeth as you sink to the hilt inside her.
There's something indescribable and primal about feeling yourself imbedded inside another person. Even without any conscious thought on your part your hips are jerking back and forth, pressing deeply inside of her and then pulling back out, just far enough so you can thrust back in. She moans and wriggles around you delightedly, hooking her legs over your hips and pulling you into her harder, her eyes rolling back in her head as you find a rhythm. You want to go slowly at first, to savor this, but it's been so long and she's so good that you can't think about doing anything but pounding into her as fast and hard as you can.
Her breasts jiggle with the motion of your bodies and you sink down on top of her, desperate to feel her skin pressed against yours. One hand slips under her bottom to grip it tight while the other goes under her shoulders, pulling her up just enough for you to run your lips over her face and neck, peppering her with kisses. She laughs and moans, panting for breath, caressing her own breast as your mouth finds her shoulder and bites down just enough to make her say "Oh!" Everything is her soft, sweaty skin and her hot, delicious womanhood enveloping you over and over again.
You can feel her body shaking against you now, and she's biting off short, sharp moans with each movement of your hips. Her back arches, pressing her fat breasts against your chest and you realize she's close, she's so close that you can taste it. Your hand finds her clitoris, just above your connection, and when your fingers rub against it she's suddenly hollering in your ear and her pussy grips you like a vice. Your own orgasm, long neglected in the face of her pleasure, comes back with a vengeance, and you realize almost too late that you're about to blow your load inside her.
"-on me!" she's gasping, hands suddenly pressing you backwards, "come on me!"
The last thing your body wants to do now is pull out of that incredible wet heat, but you just barely manage, slipping out of her and rubbing the length of your dick up and down her slit once before you explode. Pinkie's legs are wrapped tight around your waist and she's moaning in approval as you send wet spurts of yourself up and over her body, streaking across her breasts and belly. Exhausted now that the adrenalin has all run out, you take a half a step back and it's all you can do to sink down into a sitting position without falling over, panting for breath but smiling broadly with the pride of a job well done.
She lies there for a moment, legs dangling over the edge of the table. Then she sits up and grins down at you while she slowly strokes a finger over her own breast, collecting your sperm, and then popping the finger into her mouth. You laugh as she makes an exaggerated moaning sound, savoring the taste. You also note, from your vantage point on the floor, that Pinkie Pie's hair color is all natural.
"I didn't think women like that," you comment as you haul yourself back to your feet.
"I don't think most do," Pinkie replies, pausing in the act of licking your flavor off her fingers, "but everybody's different."
She sweeps the last of you off her stomach and swallows it with a smile, and giggles a bit at herself.
"Maybe I'm a lot different."
You get dressed in comfortable silence, Pinkie not even bothering to look for her panties. Once you've got your shoes back on she gives you another hug, nuzzling against your neck.
"That was nice," she murmurs, "You're nice. We can do that again, if you like."
"...well... I'm a little tired..."
She laughs and gives you a squeeze before hopping back out of your arms and beaming up at you.
"No silly, I meant like, next week! Or the week after. You know, whenever."
"Whenever sounds good," you say, kissing her on the forehead. She smiles at you, like a child with a new toy.
A few minutes later there's a doggy bag full of cake in your hand and she's gently shooing you out the door, blowing you more kisses as you stumble down the road. Your legs are like jelly and your head is spinning a little as the cold night air contrasts with the warm sweet atmosphere inside Sugarcube Corner, but you absolutely do not care. You're practically humming a tune as you head home, mind so preoccupied with memories of what you've just been through that you barely notice the dark shadow that briefly interrupts the light of the moon in front of you. It's probably just a bird, you think. A really large bird. Large like Pinkie's...
And then you can't think about anything but tits and ass until you stumble home and into your bed, happily dreaming.
-
You're awakened by knocking on the door. You glare blearily at the clock, realize you really should be up by now, and yell that you'll be just a minute. The knocking stops as you grumpily pull on some fresh clothes, hoping you don't smell too terrible without the benefit of a shower, and make your way to the door. You can hear someone talking behind it as you approach, multiple someones, talking and laughing about something you can't quite make out. Brow furrowed in confusion, you unlatch the security chain and pull open the door.
It's Pinkie Pie. And Twilight, and all the rest of her five friends. You can even see Fluttershy hovering somewhere in the back and smiling at you from behind her pink bangs. They beam at you happily as you open the door, and there's more than a few giggles as you blink slowly at them in surprise.
"Uh... good morning... what can I..."
"One side there dear, this will just take a moment... oh goodness Pinkie you're right, he hasn't had time to get anything done. Well we'll just see about that!"
You gape as Rarity starts walking around your living area, planning how best to arrange your sparse furniture. Applejack hands you a large covered basket as she heads inside, and a quick peek reveals a large, warm apple pie and a few other sundries and food products. Pinkie bounces on in without a word, offering you a lascivious wink as she goes, followed shortly by Fluttershy carrying a mop and a broom and a bucket of cleaning supplies. Rainbow Dash glares are you, clearly nursing a hangover, but doesn't object when she and Applejack are directed to start moving your bookcase.
"...what," you manage.
"Pinkie said you haven't gotten unpacked yet," says Twilight, smiling sympathetically at you. "So we figured we'd come over to help. Let us know if we're being too obtrusive, the girls just get really... uh, enthusiastic about this kind of thing. They mean well, though."
"I... can't really complain," you say, scratching the back of your head. "Do you do this for everybody new in town or is it just me?"
"Everybody gets a welcome party," says Twilight, "and if they really like you it keeps going the next day. It was the same way when I moved here. Don't worry, they'll calm down after a while."
You shake your head in exasperation, but you can't hold back a wide grin as you watch the girls going over your apartment, cleaning and unpacking and generally being more neighborly than you've ever seen someone be.
"This is kind of overwhelming."
"Relax," says Twilight, patting you on the shoulder before heading over to unpack your books, "you're in Ponyville now. This is how we roll."
-End