Dude, I Am So HiE Right Now (a parody)

Chapter 6: One in the Pink

Biff was dreaming about one of the Apollo missions. The count-down finished, the Saturn V rocket achieved lift-off, and he woke to his love bazooka firing into a welcome mouth. Rarity swallowed everything he had to offer, licked her lips, and flopped her head onto the pillow beside him. “Mmmm, that's taken care of me for breakfast. Limiting myself now and then to just a protein shake helps me keep my fillyish figure.”

Biff certainly wasn't complaining. “I'm certainly not complaining. In fact, ever since I got here, everyone has been so... accommodating. It's a little tiring, but completely worth it.”

“Oh, really? Do tell! The next best thing to a dirty bedtime story is a dirty story before getting out of bed. So when did you get here? How did you get here? Where are you from?”

Biff told her the complete story of being a human in Equestria with the four-part harmony, including the twenty-seven 8-by-10 color glossy photographs with the circles and the arrows and the paragraph on the back of each one. Rarity touched herself frequently during his tale-telling, but tried to keep her moaning quiet so she wouldn't drown him out.

“It sounds like you've had quite an adventure, dear! You've done so much exploring, and yet you've barely seen any of Ponyville at all. Perhaps a tour is in order.”

“If all ponies are as friendly as you and your friends, I would love that!” He smiled, and asked her a playful question. “Is there anywhere in Ponyville I should stay away from?”

“Well, you probably should stay away from Sugarcube Corner, and if you absolutely must go, DO NOT order Pinkie Pie's cupcakes.”

Biff chuckled. “Why not? Does she chop up other ponies for ingredients?”

“What? No! Celestia, no! You should stay away from them because they're very fattening. Pardon my Griffin, darling, but what the fuck is wrong with you? Only a sick piece of shit would come up with an idea like that.”

“Um, it was a joke I heard once.”

“Well it wasn't funny.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right. Whoever came up with it – it certainly wasn't me! Whoever came up with it needs to be stabbed in the brain. Can you ever forgive me?”

Rarity had a calculating look. “Well, a good hoofing usually helps me relax.”

“I don't have hooves, but I do have fists.” And he showed her.

Later, Biff cleaned himself up and dressed in some of his new clothes. A very relaxed Rarity decided she would remain in bed a while longer, but gave him a simple set of directions to get to the library. One of the landmarks for his short journey was the aforementioned Sugarcube Corner, and once he was close enough to smell the baking going on inside, he decided that something fattening sounded pretty damn good right then.

He stepped inside and saw a rather tidy place of business. Behind the counter was a hyperactive pink blur; he thought it might be a pony if someone could combine all of the waveforms so that the peaks and valleys would cancel each other out. He was proven right after a few moments when the blur resolved itself into a pony except for the mane and tail – he couldn't shake the feeling that those were still blurred.

“Howdy, stranger!” she cheefully bellowed. “And you're stranger than most, at least around here you are, but that doesn't make you any less welcome here in Sugarcube Corner! We've got all sorts of tasty treats, so what would you like to buy?”

“Everything looks and smells delicious, but I'm sorry to say I don't have any of the local money. All I have is this.” He slapped down a portrait of President Andrew Jackson, wondering what she would make of a twenty dollar bill.

“Wowee! It's been a while since I saw anything like that! Let me get today's exchange rates.” She reached to her right and suddenly had a piece of paper somehow clinging to her hoof. (Biff thought static electricity might be involved.) She looked through the densely-printed rows and columns of a chart. “Let's see... qwatloos, ningis, melange, Imperial credits, gil, galleons... Here we are – dollars! American dollars to Equestrian bits... you can actually buy a lot!”

Biff was dumbfounded. “Where did you get that?”

She waved in a vague arc off to her right, and half of her foreleg vanished from view for several degrees of the journey. “Over there.”

“Where?”

“Same place I keep my party cannon, silly!” There was suddenly a respectably-sized piece of artillery next to her behind the counter.

“What?”

“It's hard to explain, but I'll try. Look, start with a straight line. If you add a parallel line and two perpendicular lines, you've got a square, right?”

“Right.”

“If you add a parallel square and four perpendicular squares, you have a cube.”

“Okay.”

“If you add a parallel cube and six perpendicular cubes, you have a hypercube.”

“What?”

“If you add a parallel hypercube and eight perpendicular hypercubes--”

“My head hurts.”

“Maybe it's just easier if I show you. Follow me.”

He followed her upstairs to her bedroom. At her urging, he got into her bed. She climbed on top, and with a surprising show of strength, she grabbed him and rolled the two of them together. She was on her back, he was above her, and his clothes were neatly folded and stacked on her dresser. They rolled again; he was on his back, his cock was hard inside her, and they were hanging in mid-air just beyond the edge of the bed. She rolled underneath him again and then back on top; they somehow moved up and away from the bed as if they had gone up a 45-degree angle. She wrapped all four legs around him and they started to rotate on the second axis, then the third. Had anyone been peeking in the window, they would have seen Pinkie and Biff floating a moment more, but then shrinking and disappearing. Oddly, it looked like they were getting farther away while staying in the same place.

Despite all of the spectacular sex Biff had been having in Equestria, this was still nothing like he had ever experienced. He could hear the pinkness of her mane, smell the soft texture of her coat, and taste her lustful moans. Her velvet vise was wrapped around his Highland Games regulation caber, and everywhere he looked was like Dave Bowman's journey into the Monolith. At one point they transformed into pure math; he was an imaginary number fucking an irrational constant (that still smelled pink). They flew through orbit around an unknown planet, leaving a whale and a bowl of petunias in their wake. An angry and angsty teenager in a bright blue outfit and a red cape stopped punching the walls of reality to watch them obscenely zoom past. One of the Great Old Ones took pictures of them with his smartphone. Without knowing why he was doing it, he reached under her tail to grab a loop that hadn't been there earlier and pulled gently; a string of Dyson spheres emerged from her butthole.

She writhed against him, shuddering in orgasm. She threw her head back, screaming in ecstasy with her eyes tightly shut. She was oblivious to the blue phone booth over his shoulder, or the fist that popped out the door to shake at them angrily. Biff knew he wasn't far behind Pinkie, and she could sense his closeness. She opened her eyes, locked on his, and begged, “On my face. On my face!” He pulled out and Vesuvius erupted all over the city of Pompeii. Suddenly, they were back in her bed, he was kneeling above her, and her smiling face was decorated with an intricate fractal set in semen.

She giggled. “Got it now?”

“No. Can you show me again?”