/flaremare/ My Little Futa: Mr. Non's Magic Hands


                                            >"Oh... oh no! It's coming again! Again!"

                                            >One hand is tugging away at the purple mare's teat

                                            >The other is squeezing and combating the ferocious winking of her clit

                                            >"BY CELESTIA, IT'S COMING!"

                                            >With the speed of sheer reflex, you jerk your hand free while giving her nipple one last rough pull and focus on the towering marecock that is threatening to explode

                                            >You wring the length out, just below the flare that has expanded to at least twice as wide as your palm

                                            >These ponies sure are something else

                                            >The futanari mare lets out a choked scream as her body erupts

                                            >You hold the near magma-hot length at just the right angle that her scream is strangled out by her first blast of cum

                                            >You manage a smirk at how, in the span of a second, she went from shock, to some form of disdain, to some shameless zen of satisfaction

                                            >Most of them tend to enjoy that

                                            >You stiffen the hand against her female sex and violently twitch it against her, both simulating a mate ejaculating into her, and to further torture her grape-sized clit

                                            >The overstimulation leads to a gargling yelp that becomes quieter with every new volley that she sprays onto herself

                                            >You only relax your hands when the mare goes completely limp

                                            >While it isn't an official marketing point, you do like to sell the experience that they're satisfied completely

                                            >Sometimes that includes some overstimulation that leads to what you call "dead pony syndrome"

                                            >It's a good thing that you work in a basement environment

                                            >Without much concern, you let go of the mare and let her stew in her aftermath

                                            >Though it started as a masseuse table, you slapped on a thin mattress for extra comfort

                                            >It is, thankfully, waterproof so it'll just need to be wiped down

                                            >Given the puddle you step in as soon as you step away, you'll have to do some extra cleaning to make sure everything is picked up

                                            >But that can wait

                                            >You wash your hands in a basin and look in the full-width mirror

                                            >You look so completely

                                            >Absolutely

                                            >Painfully

                                            >Bored out of your skull

                                            >How did you end up as Ponyville's number one mare pacifier?

                                            >It started as you joking around when you were new about how your only real marketable skill was petting

                                            >That led to you offering services as a massage therapist

                                            >What were you a therapist for?

                                            >Who knew, ponies live the happiest of lives

                                            >But the petting worked

                                            >And you liked it

                                            >You liked it a lot

                                            >But now...

                                            >Your relatively new office almost always smells like sex

                                            >Sex and cider from upstairs

                                            >You begin cleaning the mare while she's still out like a light

                                            >Despite the semen clinging to her fur and orange mane, you can get it out

                                            >Despite her tongue lolling out from the side of her face and her eyes having rolled up in the back of her head so far she could be clinically dead... she looks cute

                                            >A lot of them do

                                            >But...


                                            "Alright. How're we feeling?"

                                            >Despite the twitching her body has from your grooming and cleaning, by the end of it everything from hoof to hair is spotless

                                            >Except for the marecum in her mouth

                                            >You don't go that far

                                            >"Sweet baby carrots and potatoes..."

                                            >The pony's ears randomly flap while her eyes struggle to focus

                                            >After too long of even roll over to sit up, she just lets her body go slack

                                            >"T-the girls weren't kidding about you."

                                            "Trust me, it makes me smile to know that I'm helping out so much. You seemed so backed up, it's a wonder you didn't explode at the door."

                                            >You keep a calm, smooth, professional voice

                                            >Even if it's a mask, you keep a nice smile and tone from the second they pop up at the door to the time it takes for them to leave

                                            >You sometimes do appointments but given the emergencies some mares have, your policy is more open-door

                                            >"I feel so light, I bet I could out-fly a Wonderbolt!"

                                            "Given you lack wings, that would be a beautiful sight. Just keep an eye on where you point that rudder, right?"

                                            >The mare giggles with a hint of hysteria

                                            >After another few attempts, she manages to sit up

                                            >"Whew... I'm beat. What was I even in here for?"

                                            "Something to do with a wagon?"

                                            >Rather than change mood, the mare's tongue goes over her mouth and swallows

                                            >"Oh yeah... my pa's wagon broke down... well, I said it would take a few days to come and go. He'll be fine."

                                            >The mare jumps down from the table

                                            >Just to botch the landing

                                            >She lands on her side

                                            >Between her swollen teats and testicles, you hear a pair of ᵖˡᵃᵖˢ

                                            >You try your best to maintain a smile as she gets up, legs visibly trembling

                                            >You open the door for her and step to the side

                                            >You really are hungry, now that you think about it

                                            >You could go for a pizza

                                            >Or a burger

                                            >Or anything that has weight to it

                                            >"I-I'll be back, don't you worry none!"

                                            "I'll look forward to it. My door will always be open to you."

                                            >You remain still as a statue while she walks out

                                            >You can hear how uneven her steps are, especially when she tries to ascend the flight of well-settled wood stairs

                                            >Only after a minute do you close the door

                                            >You've learned to only drop the façade when you know for a fact that they won't get a second wind and rush back in for another round

                                            >It happens

                                            "Ah... crap."

                                            >Able to decompress, you sigh and let your shoulders sink down

                                            "She was so cute too..."

                                            >You open up all of the vents you have, which are usually hidden by tasteful art of greenery and trees

                                            >For some reason sights like the ocean or mountains don't seem to do so well to most

                                            >Flicking on the ceiling fan already makes you feel better

                                            >It means that within a few hours, things will smell less dire

                                            >Only now do you grab the collection bowl near the door to check

                                            >That mare...

                                            >She paid at least four times your asking donation price

                                            >Was she supposed to?

                                            "Well, I certainly do appreciate the patronage..."

                                            >You pocket it

                                            >On purpose, by accident, as hush money or immense gratitude you can spend it all the same


                                            "Alright, rev up that oven. I could use an early dinner. And while you're at it, please tell me we have something on tap that's drinkable?"

                                            >The request comes out as a whine

                                            >Above your parlor is a...

                                            >Well

                                            >It isn't failing

                                            >But it certainly isn't successful

                                            >Every time you stop by, you're one of maybe a whopping half dozen customers

                                            >The reputation around the place as being the obvious front to your services certainly don't help

                                            >At least the place is a hit with old couples that just want a date night

                                            >The barmaid, a light blue mare with a short and fluffy pink mane grins

                                            >"She gonna be alive in the morning? I think you drained her by three sizes."

                                            "Oh shove off and get me something good to eat. I'm a paying customer."

                                            >With a teasing wink, she gets to work

                                            >Frozen Peetzer-brand pizza is on the menu and you're hungry enough where you consider it high cuisine

                                            >Made with REAL cheese

                                            >The face of a gleeful winking mare makes you wonder about that cheese

                                            >You set up a small stack of bits

                                            >Only half of what were paid

                                            >But she knows it's more than your usual

                                            >The first two visits a month tend to pay your "rent"

                                            >Even if she's often the first two visitors

                                            >"So what's on tap for this month is ma-woah!? Did you rob her too?"

                                            >Barmaid's face is one of absolute shock

                                            >You will admit, you enjoy how animated she is

                                            >It can really be hit or miss for customers

                                            >You get the odd feeling that it is more of a miss, given the atmosphere of the bar is supposed to be quiet and homey

                                            "I'd appreciate you hinting at that... and no. So, can that cover next month's rent and get me a bigger mug?"

                                            >Eyes sparkling with just enough salivating to make you question her mental state, she swipes up the stack faster than you can see

                                            >"Yeah... yeah this'll cover it."

                                            >Her face melts into the most sleazy grin

                                            >"But I'll still need my visits."

                                            "Low Breeze, look at me."

                                            >So that's her name

                                            >You usually call her something vaguely insulting, like Low Sleaze

                                            >But you remember the most unusual things when you're in your professional mode

                                            >Her front hooves rest on the bar

                                            >You lean forward, just enough that your voice can only be heard by her

                                            "Next visit, you'll need to close for a week to recover."

                                            >ᵀᴴᵁᴺᴷ

                                            >The muffled whap of something causes her face to turn bright red

                                            >As slimy a mare as she is at times, she just can't seem to handle it when she's on the receiving end of lewd words

                                            >"...y-yeah?"

                                            "Yeah. But only if a pony whinnies."

                                            >Your professional face morphs into something less professional

                                            "Does it?"

                                            >The mare stares at you like you revealed the galaxy's darkest secret to her and her alone

                                            >She attempts to make a variety of confused noises

                                            >Some of them could generously be considered a whinny

                                            >With a sniff, you drop your professional face and descend once more back into an apathetic Anon

                                            >Albeit with a victory smirk

                                            "Good landlady. Now, gimme drink. And not that "blueberry-tea-leaf-lemonade" batch you tried brewing. Gave me freaking nightmares last time."


                                            >"Oh yeah... YEAH! B-buck it! O-o-o-o-oooh... y-yeah, twist it there!"

                                            >You wanted to have the day off

                                            >Alas, you are a professional

                                            >You've noticed that pegasi tend to be different from normal earth ponies and unicorns

                                            >Due to them being so aerodynamic and focused on flight, certain parts are smaller on average

                                            >It isn't empirical and objective, but you've seen it enough to believe it

                                            >While you silently contemplate this, you repeatedly open your current client's vagina with your thumb, index finger and middle finger

                                            >The squelching mixed with the forceful winking nearly echoes in the room

                                            >Your other hand is on the mare's spongy flare

                                            >With your palm against the front of her flare, you twist your hand back and forth with some strength in your fingers

                                            >It's like trying to open a flat, slimy door

                                            >"Almost there... u-uhnn... gonna... take it?! Yeah, t-take it!"

                                            >This customer is rather odd

                                            >On top of having a rainbow mane, she insisted on keeping some sort of handkerchief over her eyes

                                            >It has an apple embroidered on it

                                            >You get the feeling that she doesn't want it to be messy so you fight her thin flight stick and angle it to the side

                                            >Despite being maybe half the size of the mare from yesterday, it's surprisingly stiff

                                            >Your hand slides over the flare and grabs her from right under

                                            >Treating it like a weed in your garden-if you had a garden-you give a sharp tug

                                            >The sharp tug is enough for the blue pegasus scream

                                            >Something something with the word "sonic" in it?

                                            >You give the mare an odd look and watch her spray her first volley

                                            >She shoots it hard enough that it flies onto the floor

                                            >The second, third, fourth shots manage to hit the far corner

                                            >The sixth, seventh, and tenth spurts land on the table and her own belly, quickly soiling her coat with her shameless satisfaction

                                            >You only stop when it wilts

                                            >You'll admit, maybe you were just curious to see how much it would go

                                            >Given the pony's open jaw with tongue lolled out, you're guessing that she came herself into a coma

                                            >Even if you want to mutter that she made a mess, you know that pony hearing can be pretty good

                                            >Even in comas

                                            >Especially while in comas

                                            >Instead, you set yourself to work and begin to clean things up

                                            >A while back, you installed a few drains in the floor for this exact thing

                                            >Once you cleaned the customer, your rubber broom pushes most of the pegasus syrup down the drain

                                            >The rest that's on the wall will have to be cleaned by hand

                                            >Not only does it cost a fortune to commission rubber gloves, it just didn't make sense to be all hung up about that part of the job

                                            >It takes maybe a full hour to clean up

                                            >Yet the pegasus still seems to be sleeping

                                            >While not unusual, you want to at least go outside for a few hours

                                            "How do we feel? Relaxed and ready for the world?"

                                            >"Man... that felt... AWESOME!"

                                            >The pony goes from laying on her back to standing up

                                            >You finally see her face

                                            >She looks proud of herself


                                            >"I can't wait to go see the look on her face when I told her I was able cum so hard I was seeing stars! Let's see how she likes THEM apples!"

                                            >You have no clue what she means by any of this

                                            >But you are a man of commitment and poise

                                            "I think you were seeing more than just stars. Speaking of apples, yours seem much healthier now. Have you been trying to hold back for something?"

                                            >Said "apples" were not big at all, even by pony standards

                                            >But they still were at least three times as big when she first trotted in

                                            >Compared to now, she seemed almost pathetically desperate

                                            >Some of them are just like that

                                            >Or too proud to take care of themselves

                                            >"Uhhh, yeah dude? Ever heard of tryouts? You gotta be on edge and FULL of aggression, or else you just won't make it!"

                                            >Is that how that is?

                                            >You haven't had any true aggressive bone in your body for years now and you think you've done well for yourself

                                            >Relatively speaking

                                            "Ah, I see. That makes sense. Did it help?"

                                            >Her pride is immediately bruised

                                            >She avoids your eyes and scrunches her face up

                                            >"...I mean, maybe I was too backed up to focus..."

                                            >Suddenly going to the handkerchief and tucking it into one of her wings, she hops down onto the floor

                                            >"Anyway, I sure appreciate it! When I make it big, wanna be my personal masseuse? You'll get rich that way!"

                                            >And end up having to live in the clouds?

                                            >Screw that

                                            "I'm sorry but it's my calling to help all ponies. If I helped only you, can you imagine how many would be left unhappy?"

                                            >You speak as you go to the door

                                            >As always, you open it and stand aside

                                            >"Pah, who cares about them? They gotta be the best to get the best! Anyway, gotta make like an egg and beat it!"

                                            >With a grin and wink, she zooms off so hard she leaves a multi-colored trail behind

                                            >Can't quite say you've ever seen a pegasus take off indoors like that before

                                            >You smirk while checking the donation plate

                                            >Either these ponies can't count well or they're leaving bigger tips

                                            >Maybe this is proof that your reputation is building

                                            >You fondle the bits and...

                                            >Wait

                                            >If your reputation is building...

                                            >Does this mean that more ponies know that you're that sort of guy?

                                            >Despite the chunky sum now in your pocket, you can't help but feel bittersweet at the revelation

                                            >Do you really want that sort of permanent reputation?

                                            "Ah... oh well."

                                            >You can deal with that unhappy train of thought later

                                            >Despite the sun having set, you opt for a bath

                                            >Even if it is late, you want to take a walk

                                            >You first thought it would be important to keep regular "business hours", but after so long you've realized just how much time you've spent underground

                                            >How much time you've spent in that parlor, either reading or playing card games against yourself

                                            >Or by doing what you do

                                            >The entire situation is unappealing

                                            >Worse yet, as you're below ground there is only so much you can do to expand or remodel

                                            >At least the basement bathroom works for you


                                            >Clean, refreshed and dressed like you have someone to impress, you make your way up the stairs to the main bar

                                            >"Hey, there he is! We got a surge of visitors thanks to you, why not sit down? We got a few fa-"

                                            "Sorry, I gotta step out for a bit. Please let them know that I'll be back either late tonight or will be available in the morning. I'll make it up to them for waiting, I promise."

                                            >You don't stop for Low Breeze but you do keep your professional face and tone

                                            >You don't pay attention to who the visitors are

                                            >Some of them look familiar

                                            >With a gentleman's rush, you break for the only entry and exit point

                                            >Even when you're outside, you don't stop for at least a minute

                                            "Finally..."

                                            >You sigh once you slow down

                                            >That place feels comfortable

                                            >But gravely stifling

                                            "Maybe it's just me."

                                            >You kick at a pebble with your nice shoes

                                            >First of their kind and made so well you'd think they would fit a king

                                            "Let's be honest with yourself, Anon, you like being popular. Hell, that feels better than the pay."

                                            >Due to the wide open starscape and deep purple night sky, you can navigate the streets just fine

                                            >You aren't alone, of course

                                            >Drunk ponies and those out on dates are doing their own thing

                                            >Sometimes you see them doing their own thing and can't help but think that it should at least be done indoors

                                            >Pony society eludes you, so you just do your best to blend in

                                            "And if you wanna be completely honest, you and Sleaze..."

                                            >You're pretty sure that if you told Low Breeze that you were going to claim her, she would be happy and the marriage would be in a matter of weeks

                                            >But would you really care for that?

                                            >The bar's been your home since you came to Ponyville

                                            >Her cider recipes suck but some of them have stuck to you

                                            >Who would have thought that banana-cinnamon-maple would haunt your dreams for years?

                                            >She's not a bad cook either

                                            >The few times she actually cooks for you and doesn't just use store-brand frozen goods

                                            "That... nah... maybe not."

                                            >You wish you could just stumble into some mare and immediately hit things off and next thing you know, relationship

                                            >You blame having grown up with those corny comedic romances

                                            >Realistically, if you let yourself get too sappy you'll weird out a customer

                                            >Or what once would have been a customer

                                            >Given you're the only human with hands around, even if conversations about your parlor are hushed behind polite society they certainly are talking about you

                                            >You stop and sit on a nearby bench

                                            >You're in town but away from the most popular blocks

                                            >The night life doesn't really exist in Ponyville

                                            >Outside of the bar, which is open nearly at all hours, you can count maybe two or three places that you know of

                                            >One of those is the theater

                                            >Another is some late night snack hut

                                            >You kick out your legs and stair up at the stars

                                            "You're doing well for yourself, Anon."

                                            >A reminder you apparently need

                                            "...but what's next? Do you just keep doing this and stop thinking?"

                                            >"I know what you should do!"


                                            "Yeah? What's that?"

                                            >A cheerful mare's voice comes up

                                            >Your eyes travel from the sky down

                                            >A pink pony in a long trenchcoat is standing in front of you

                                            >She even has one of those old derby hats

                                            >"You should... SCREAM!"

                                            >She jumps up on her hind hooves and opens the trenchcoat, revealing an erect cock long enough that she could swallow a good portion of herself

                                            >Between the swinging pair she has and the flare pulsating, she would put that pegasus to absolute shame

                                            >Between your exposure to the more lewd pony behavior and your natural poker face, your eyes go from the throbbing staff to the mare's crazy grin

                                            >She looks like she's having the rush of a lifetime

                                            >Would it be ethical to rain on her parade?

                                            "...I should be scared but I can't help but think you're happy to see me."

                                            >The mare giggles and wags her hips back and forth

                                            >The weighted staff almost dances from the gyrations

                                            >"Super happy! So happy I just can't hide it!"

                                            >Could anything hide that?

                                            >"And my special party cannon will DEFINITELY make you happy too!"

                                            >If you didn't live in such a sexual world, you'd probably be more excited

                                            >You lean forward with one hand on your knee and the other on your chin

                                            >Close enough that you're an inch from the blooming end

                                            >Your eyes remain glued to hers

                                            "Hm..."

                                            >Do you remain professional?

                                            >Is this because she knows you're the magical mare massager?

                                            >You pull away and go back to your previous stance

                                            "We could both be happy. Have a seat nearby. You a fan?"

                                            >While you're taking the steam out of her flashing, you're remaining friendly enough

                                            >The mare in question stands there for a moment

                                            >She isn't frozen in place because you can see her sack rise and fall from the flexing tension

                                            >She eventually drops down to all fours and sits on the bench

                                            >But due to how she's sitting, on her butt like you, her staff ends up pointing straight up and obscuring the front of her view

                                            "Much better."

                                            >As much as your instinct is to pet her, you can't just do that

                                            >You can't help that most ponies are just soft to the touch

                                            >"...I thought you would kinda freak out. Or scream more. H-heh."

                                            >She sounds awkward but you don't mind

                                            >It'll make for an entertaining story at least

                                            "Yeah... if you've probably heard of me, you know that I see beautiful mares nearly every day. Even your gorgeous form can only keep me speechless for so long."

                                            >You don't mean to be so suave but outside of Low Sleaze, it has become your default

                                            >The flared and prepared mare giggles

                                            >She begins to box against her staff

                                            >It wobbles with each gentle hit

                                            >Most likely a tactic to stop her from shrinking

                                            >"Heehee, I bet you say that to all the mares!"

                                            "Only the best ones."

                                            >If you were anyone else, you probably wouldn't feel so natural and comfortable around the pervert

                                            "You look pent up. You been frustrated with something?"


                                            >"Naaaaaaaaaaaaaah, Rainbow Dash and me were trying to have a race and she said that getting pent up makes you run faster so I thought "hey Pinkie, you can win easy!" and so I started to avoid doing things but I found out the longer I waited the more it itched and the more it itched the bigger it grew and now it's been this big for an entire day straight and I can't show any of my friends because they'll be like "Oh dear Celestia, you've been cursed! Let's read about it in my big book of silly stuff!" and I'll be all "girls, it's fine! I just haven't popped my balloon in enough time to make me go crazy" and wouldn't you know, I feel like I am going crazy! Isn't that funny?!"

                                            >The tones and voices she slips in and out of is impressive

                                            >What's even more impressive is that the more she talks, the faster she boxes her cock

                                            >It gets to the point that it sounds like she's going at a speed bag, with it retaliating with a hard slap to the front of her snoot after the last punch

                                            "...yeah. I guess so. But it can be dangerous too, you know. Some depraved stallion could lure you in with promise of all the balloons you could pop. Next thing you know, you're tied to a chair and that rudder there is used as his springboard to dive into a pool of Pinkie water."

                                            >You presume that her name is Pinkie from her rant

                                            >She gasps at the comment

                                            >"Omigosh, you're RIGHT!"

                                            >In her gasp, she ends up swallowing her own flare

                                            >And then some

                                            >Like a wood pecker, her head darts down on itself fast enough to be a blur

                                            >To be honest, you aren't even surprised at this

                                            >You kinda wish you could just go back to stargazing

                                            >But this is ok too

                                            >It's the sort of company you ask for

                                            >Apparently

                                            >She pulls her head back and resumes her gasp, which sounds a fair bit more ragged

                                            >"That COULD happen! Good thing you wouldn't do anything like that, right?"

                                            "Probably."

                                            >You wish you could be just a bit more animated about this situation

                                            >"Your name is Anon, right? I heard one of my medium-best friends talk about you a few days ago!"

                                            >What's a medium-best friend?

                                            "Yeah, that's me."

                                            >"I knew it! I really hoped I could have surprised you, but she was right. You're a super pro!"

                                            "I appreciate it."

                                            >"She also said that while you gave her a super big happy ending, you looked a little sad."

                                            "Sad?"

                                            >You?

                                            >What do you possibly have to feel sad for?

                                            >"Yeah! She said that you looked like you were just going through the motions. She had been to you like... a million times, and that you still don't remember her!"

                                            "I... really?"

                                            >Crap

                                            >You really can't dispute that

                                            >How could you?

                                            >You don't keep a log or anything

                                            >You mentally go on auto-pilot for a lot of customers

                                            "Ah... i-if that's the case, I apologize. I suppose I..."

                                            >You can't stop this plane from crashing but you can put it into a controlled landing

                                            "Should go on a vacation soon. All work and no play, right?"


                                            >"Exactly! And since I'm all backed up and you're all backed up from being happy, I thought we could be friends! And friends help each other out all the time, especially when they're backed up!"

                                            >She gasps again

                                            >"Wait, that's it!"

                                            "What's it?"

                                            >"We can all meet up and I can re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-reintroduce you to her! It'll be amazing!"

                                            >You aren't even going to count how many "re"s that is

                                            "With your friend?"

                                            >"Medium-best friend!"

                                            "I guess that wouldn't be bad. But where? I can't really have anyone over at my parlor. It's not the most... casual place."

                                            >"That's fine, we can meet you there too!"

                                            >But you really don't want to, because you know how it'll go

                                            "I'd rather not. How about we meet up here in say..."

                                            >"Tomorrow!"

                                            "Tomorrow?"

                                            >"Tomorrow!!!"

                                            >That's a little sudden, isn't it?

                                            >But you would like to know about this mare who apparently likes you

                                            "Well... alright."

                                            >What else do you have to do?

                                            >"Yaaaaaaaay! I'm so excited, I could just-"

                                            >Pinkie lunges forward and swallows half of her staff in an instant

                                            >She begins to violently convulse in various ways, her sack spilling over the edge of the bench

                                            >She has a nice set of teats but they seem to be outshined by everything else

                                            >You watch with morbid curiosity while she facefucks herself to the point her eyes start to roll back in her head

                                            >That could also be her just pounding the everloving crap out of her throat

                                            >With a few sudden whimpers, she curls up into herself and flinches

                                            >Her ears go flat and her rolled back eyes go wide

                                            >You can actually hear the torrent of Pinkie pie filler spraying into herself

                                            >After the third round, the fourth sends a sudden spray of seed out of her nostrils

                                            >You must be going crazy because it sounds like a pair of party horns going off

                                            >Cum violently shoots out of her nose with each pump, staining not just the innocent bench but the grass below

                                            >Each pump, her face warps to a more and more obscene expression

                                            >Until it stops

                                            >Her entire body goes slack and leans forward

                                            >It leans forward enough that she rolls onto her head, falls, and lands on the saturated grass with a splat

                                            >Apparently the landing caused one last throat stroke because she uncurls with one last audible spray

                                            >It's like the sound of a bottle filling up with water and being right at max capacity

                                            >Satisfied by her own mouth, she simply lays there

                                            >At least her staff has gone soft

                                            >Not smaller

                                            >But more just some flopping, oozing water balloon that lost most of it's pressure

                                            "...I..."

                                            >Well that was certainly a sight

                                            "...alright then. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

                                            >You calmly stand up and distance yourself from the scene

                                            >These freaking ponies, man

                                            >You'll never understand them


                                            >Today you have a...

                                            >Is it a date?

                                            >You aren't so sure

                                            >You dress well regardless

                                            >For the first time since you've started, you're finally taking a full day to yourself

                                            >Sleaze was just as surprised to see you waltzing out

                                            >"And he... well there he is... hey. Hey! HEY! ANON! You got a trio over here that have heard'a you!"

                                            "Nope, sorry, I'll be back soon I promise but I gotta get out."

                                            >"THEY SAID THEY'RE BIG FANS GET BACK HERE YOU TUGGING SNUGGLE JUGGLER!"

                                            "Nope my legs are moving, bye!"

                                            >The trio in question look surprised that you're walking away

                                            >White unicorn

                                            >Orange pegasus

                                            >Yellow earth pony

                                            >...

                                            >They couldn't possibly want to be taken care of at the same time

                                            >Good thing you're already out the door

                                            >A few blocks' worth of distance away makes you feel like a new man

                                            >When was the last time you've gone out in public with the sun up?

                                            >Many ponies watch you as you go by

                                            >Of course, you're popular with the flare mares

                                            >Not many of them live in Ponyville

                                            >Many normal mares know you well

                                            >And at least two stallions that managed to trick you

                                            >As your grand pappy once told you, "They call them traps for a reason, kid. And like a dumb but tough rat, I fell for many traps but still lived."

                                            >You have no clue why he said that to you

                                            >You were just trying to get him to teach you how to play that old card game that was played on motorcycles

                                            >"Oh hey Anon! Glad to see you taking a day off!"

                                            >A passing mare greets you with a warm smile

                                            "Oh yeah, sure. Thanks."

                                            >That was nice of her

                                            >Not ten paces later, you get another mare

                                            >This one wearing an apron

                                            >Your tainted, expert eyes spot why the strings are tied around so tightly

                                            >She's excited to see you

                                            >"Woah, you read my thoughts!"

                                            "That I get a day off to see you smile? Darn right!"

                                            >"Y-yeah! That's what I meant!"

                                            "I gotta go do something important but I'll see you later?"

                                            >The stain at the top of the apron darkens

                                            >"You better believe it! I got grapefruit danishes you can't even hold with both of those big hands!"

                                            >Given the excitement on her face and in her voice, you can't help but wonder if she means something other than pastries

                                            >Outside of the unspoken fact that the local town mare molester is going out for a casual stroll, you feel welcomed

                                            >To be honest, it feels like how it does when you first started with your petting therapy gig

                                            >Maybe you just really need to not be such a workaholic

                                            >Though you're a little hesitant to go back to the scene of the crime where that nutty pink pony went at it her own nuts bruised her face, you feel confident that no one saw you

                                            >"Look, there he is!"

                                            >Aw crap

                                            >A pair of trendy looking mares with one too many accessories on their ears trot up to you

                                            >"Are you the one that caused that mess?"

                                            >"Like, is it true?"

                                            "I... huh? Is what true?"


                                            >"That you made a pony burst until she turned into a skeleton!"

                                            >They speak in unison, giggling

                                            >"Like, I heard that you can turn a pony into a mummy!"

                                            >"Yeah well I heard that you can make any pony sing like a choir filly!"

                                            >Judging by how many jollies they're getting out of this, it isn't in bad faith

                                            >You shrug

                                            "I mean, not everything you hear is true..."

                                            >You play coy with a dubious expression

                                            "But... I mean there has to be some truth in there. Right?"

                                            >While they made their excited noises and bicker between themselves you create distance

                                            >Sure enough, the mess that was mostly dried on the grass-and on part of the bench-was plain for all to see

                                            >"Wowee, look at that! What happened, do you think?"

                                            "Personally? I think you had some--g-gah!?"

                                            >You turn to the pony asking the question only to see that it's the flasher!

                                            >Or at least the head of the flasher

                                            >And the legs

                                            >Her body had turned to a banana

                                            "...is that a banana suit?"

                                            >"Eeeeeeeeeeyup!"

                                            "Can I ask you why?"

                                            >"I'm advertising!"

                                            "Advertising perverted pony banana bonanzas?"

                                            >"No! But oohhhhhhh, can I use that later?"

                                            "I."

                                            >This is absurd

                                            "Sure. Listen, did you say that you had someone that wanted to meet me?"

                                            >"I sure did!"

                                            >You don't exactly see anyone nearby that you recognize

                                            "Can I ask where?"

                                            >"Oh. Oh! Yeah, ta-da!"

                                            >She sidesteps to reveal an entire pony that was standing behind her

                                            >How in the world did that happen

                                            >You're at least three times taller

                                            "Oh. Hey there... uh..."

                                            >Wait a tick

                                            >Orange mane

                                            >Purple fur

                                            "Dairy girl!"

                                            >You point at her with your eyebrows raised

                                            "Wait, no, not farm. Wagon girl!"

                                            >She sheepishly smiles and trots up to you

                                            >The bounce in her step is undeniable

                                            >"Hi! Hi hi, um. Hi."

                                            >"Aw, it's love at first sight!"

                                            >You frown at the banana-wielding banana mascot

                                            "At first sight? We've seen each other before."

                                            >You focus on the mystery mare

                                            "...right?"

                                            >"Aaaaaaaaaaat least seven times now."

                                            >Seven times?!

                                            "...I'm sorry?"

                                            >"Okyoutwohavefunmyjobisdoneherebyenowwheeeeeeeeeeeee!"

                                            >The pink perv makes like a banana and split

                                            >Literally, the banana suit splits open and she peels out in a full gallop

                                            >At least the suit follows her due to some fabric catching to her tail

                                            "...I'm gonna be honest; I have no clue what her deal is. Do you?"

                                            >"Me? No... not really. But she... has her good points?"

                                            >Outside of her awkward tone, she doesn't seem so sure of her words

                                            "Well... I guess that's good enough."

                                            >You kneel down and extend your hand

                                            "I'm sorry I didn't remember you sooner. Let's start over, I'm Anonymous."

                                            >The mare gives a nervous giggle and puts both of her front hooves on your palm

                                            >Of course, this gives you enough of a peek to see that even if it's faint, she's happy to see you

                                            >"I'm super excited to meet you, Anonymous! I'm Grape Dream. I-I'm sorry but I'm... uh... my dad doesn't own a wagon. And I'm not a baker. Or a guardsmare. Or a faraway Manehattan nomad."

                                            >She's doing her best to smile but you can see how actively she's cringing


                                            >"In fact, I'm a bit of a nopony. I work at one of those soda bottling places-plants-things. And I thought "wow, I've heard about this guy, maybe he could help me out" and then you did and next thing I knew, I was kinda sorta... stopping by often and noticed that you always treated me like I was new so I started to act like I was a different pony each time to try to see if you would notice me more?"

                                            >The more she speaks, the faster she goes

                                            >This probably answers your question as to why she and pink are friends

                                            >"And now Pinkie said you'd love to meet me and can we go get lunch? Pretty please?"

                                            >She's sounding higher and higher pitched the more she's speaking

                                            "If I say "yes", will you feel better?"

                                            >Your answer is a frantic nod

                                            >Well you can't say "no"

                                            "Well alright then, let's find a place."

                                            >She catches you off-guard with a mighty exhale

                                            >"Great! That's really great!"

                                            >She practically bounces off of your hand, trotting in place

                                            >She's

                                            >...

                                            >Oh...

                                            >...

                                            >It's not just a trot

                                            >She's doing

                                            >Uh...

                                            >She's doing a full little dance to herself

                                            >This is happening

                                            >Don't say anything, Anon

                                            >Don't do it

                                            >Grape stops in mid-bounce, like she just now noticed that she did something weird

                                            "You're excited, I take it."

                                            >Rather than speak, she tries her best to smile

                                            >"I'm sorry. Am I being weird?"

                                            >God yes

                                            "Not at all."

                                            >Dammit

                                            "I guess I'm just surprised, is all. I suppose I never thought I attracted that much attention. The job's the job but I don't think anyone would think highly of me. Walk and talk?"

                                            >You point to the road and Grape nods with enthusiasm

                                            >"Oh-sure. And yeah! I mean, I was one of your first customers! Remember when you would read from a book and pet? I was the one who would kinda ask you for the belly rubs as well as the back of the ears."

                                            >To be honest, a lot of ponies asked for that sort of thing

                                            "Oh yeah... was it the adventure book or that, uh..."

                                            >"The magazines!"

                                            "Oh... right. Man, you enjoyed listening to that? It was all lame tabloids!"

                                            >"Super lame! But coming from you, it worked wonders on me!"

                                            >She's not lying

                                            >You were quick to run out of reading material, so to keep from being monotonous you'd buy whatever you could from news stalls and racks

                                            >Soon you were reading cooking recipes and snarky reviews by dainty stallions that had never even touched a knife before, much less knew how to boil water

                                            "That's... that's legit. I never knew."

                                            >Even if she had her little dancing moment, you feel like you're the one at the disadvantage

                                            "Why... don't I remember you better? I'd certainly remember your name."

                                            >"Iiiiiiiiiiii never gave you my name, maybe?"

                                            >Another awkward laugh

                                            >"I mean I always wanted to tell you but I kept thinking that it would be seen as creepy so I didn't but then I kept visiting and you kept treating me like a princess and why spoil the first timer's bliss?"

                                            >Pretending to be a new mare every time isn't creepy?

                                            >That's more a failing on your behalf than hers


                                            >You glance down at the mare on the road

                                            >She's leading you to the proposed lunch destination, so you'll trust her aim

                                            >Besides

                                            >It gives you a chance to see that not only is her pair bouncing with every other step, but she's already winking

                                            >A lot

                                            >Just how easy could you get her to stain the street, even with witnesses around?

                                            >...

                                            >Bad Anon

                                            >You mustn't use your powers for evil

                                            >"Not to mention the feeling that I got that you actually knew it was me because every visit, you'd do more and more to me at once... oh gosh... did you know I had to skip work for two days after that one time you kissed me at the end?"

                                            >You...

                                            >You don't do that with your customers

                                            >That's one of the few rules you do enforce

                                            "I... don't think that happened. If we're sharing the same memory, I think you sprayed so much I thought you died and I might have checked if you were still breathing."

                                            >Was that her?

                                            >She looked like she had absolutely died

                                            >At least, you think it was her

                                            >"Oh... oh yeah, I guess that was closer to reality huh."

                                            "Hey, Grape?"

                                            >She comes to a sudden stop but doesn't look behind

                                            >"W-what's up?"

                                            >You kneel down and put your hand on her shoulder

                                            >You wanted to put it on her flank but judging by her rising flag pole, it might seem a little too obvious

                                            "There's no reason to be worried. We're gonna have a nice lunch, right?"

                                            >"AndserioussessionafterwhereImakeyoupainttheceiling."

                                            "What was that?"

                                            >"N-nothing! Come on, let's go! Where I know, they have fresh pizza! And I could seriously use a bit of a fancy drink!"

                                            >If this keeps going, you're going to need a drink too

                                            >But you can't just turn her down either

                                            >Maybe she knows a good place, that would give your day off some extra flair


                                            >"Well, hello there! Grape, it's great to see you again! Lemme guess, orange sherbet-grape soda slurry and one of my world famous pizzas?"

                                            >"Yeah, two please! One for me, and my date!"

                                            >"Your date?! Well color my coat, that's awesome! And who's the lucky guy?"

                                            >Something's wrong with this picture

                                            >You want to be nice about it

                                            >But you just can't ignore this

                                            "Sleaze, cut it out."

                                            >"Who's that, sir? My name is Low Breeze an-"

                                            "And I know the secret behind your pizzas."

                                            >Your 2% irritated tone leads to the barmare backing away with an awkward smile

                                            >"R-right... I'll be back with those drinks."

                                            >Breeze turns to trot away

                                            >But turns her head back to Grape

                                            >"By the way, love. Be careful with him."

                                            >She leans in and whispers loud enough for it to be room volume

                                            >"I heard he pets on the first date."

                                            >Remain composed, Anon

                                            >Sleaze is testing you

                                            >And it...

                                            >Is

                                            >NOT

                                            >Going to prevail

                                            >Not right now, anyway

                                            >Your annoyance fades the second Grape Dream squees at you

                                            >"H-heh, how great a date would it be if it led to after-eating petting?"

                                            >You slip into your charm like a comfortable glove and lean forward

                                            "Even better, I can pet with one hand and hold with the other."

                                            >THUNK

                                            >That

                                            >Came from under the table

                                            >The excited look on Grape's face is admittedly pretty cute

                                            "I gotta ask, am I doing something special for you?"

                                            >"Without a doubt!"

                                            "Yeah? How's that?"

                                            >"Well you don't look at me funny because I'm a little different! And I've really never felt better than after spending time with you."

                                            >Sounds more like lust than anything else

                                            "Well when you get to relax a whole lot when you get to let loose and lose a few pounds."

                                            >THUNK

                                            >You get the feeling she just isn't going to calm down unless something is done

                                            >"W-well, I mean... of course. But being read to helped a lot too. To be honest, I remember those times far more vividly."

                                            >Easy to say when being read to doesn't involve getting wrung bone dry

                                            >But despite your pragmatic view, you miss just reading to ponies

                                            "Yeah... to be honest, I kinda forgot about those days. It felt like it has been forever ago since I'd just read. Are you a big bookworm?"

                                            >"Not one bit!"

                                            >The bright smile she gives when answering is infectious

                                            >"I was never all that book smart, I guess. And if I had to read for an entire hour without breaks, I'd go cross-eyed. But when I can listen to you and be able to relax..."

                                            >She audibly swoons

                                            >"Nopony has ever done that. My parents were always busy with stuff so I had to try to read myself to sleep and it didn't work so well."

                                            >Before you can react, her smile turns apologetic

                                            >"S-sorry. Too much information?"

                                            >It seems like she's asking to share information about herself

                                            "No, not at all. To be honest, if you like and we think we should have more dates, we could always do a sort of... book date?"


                                            >"Woah... can we?! Name the time and place and I'll be there!"

                                            >Grape clops her front hooves on the table almost too fast for eyes

                                            >Then she stops

                                            >"E-except for when I have to go to work. But outside of that, I'll totally be there!"

                                            "Well I don't want to be presumptuous but just in case? I'll go look for some new favorites for us."

                                            >You are being genuine but you can't seem to turn off your work charm

                                            >She may seem enraptured but you can't help but feel like your words are empty

                                            >"Alright lovebirds, I got a pair of Grapange bombs! Pizzas are in the oven and on the way!"

                                            >Sleaze carefully bucks her hip-mounted trays toward the table

                                            >Two tall glasses of... something are delivered

                                            "Grapange bomb?"

                                            >Grape nods and licks her lips

                                            >"You see, my cutie mark is soda pop fizz--if you've ever looked at my flank--and that's how I ended up at a bottling plant! I have three places that let me try out different things, this is one of them! I love grapes and oranges so I thought to combine them and it's like a root beer float!"

                                            >Grapes and oranges

                                            >Orange mane and purple fur

                                            >Somehow you aren't surprised

                                            >Ponies seem to just operate on an entirely separate level of logic

                                            "Well, I do like sherbet. Cheers."

                                            >You hold up your glass and clink it against Grape's

                                            >Ignoring the straw given the chunks of frozen orange treat, you take a generous sip

                                            >...

                                            >Another sip

                                            >...

                                            >A third sip for good measure

                                            "...dang."

                                            >"Dang?"

                                            >Grape is unsure of how to react

                                            >On one hand, your eyebrow is raised and you're trying to analyze the flavor

                                            >On the other hand, you just gulped down half your drink

                                            >You lock eyes with her

                                            "That's a serious talent. I don't just drink anything, you know."

                                            >"Aw yeah, that's awesome! I knew that this one would catch on!"

                                            >Grape chomps onto the straw in her glass and gulps down two full mouthfuls of sugar concoction

                                            "Now you have my full attention. You give yourself too little credit for being an innovator. What other flavors have you tried mixing?"

                                            >The purple mare nods and covers her mouth with her hoof for a second before replying

                                            >"Well! I tried cherry and mint. That..."

                                            >She narrows her eyes

                                            >"Actually? I liked that one. But... other ponies, not so much."

                                            >She shrugs away the memory

                                            >"Another was lemon and lime! But it turns out that a few bigger companies already made that so... it was a wash."

                                            >She keeps her eyes on you, idly chewing on the tip of her straw

                                            >"I think... the weirdest one I made was a blueberry and cactus soda."

                                            "Blueberry I get but... cactus?"

                                            >Grape nods

                                            >"Yea-up! But... I kinda found out that cactus needles are really hard to get out by hoof. So I tried aloe-vera instead. And it came out kinda... slimy."

                                            >From her grimace and inflection on "slimy", it was probably a mess

                                            >"I never got around to adding the fizzy to it, so it was never a real soda. But it kinda... turned into a nice jelly? I think?"

                                            "Nice, so you have a hoof both in the beverage and food markets. Remember me when you make it big, alright?"


                                            >Your compliment sends Grape into a nervous giggle fit

                                            >"Oh, I could never forget! You already helped me make it big more times than I can count!"

                                            >She giggles more until she sees your creeping smile

                                            >Only now does she understand what she said

                                            >...

                                            >...

                                            >...

                                            >THUNK

                                            >THUNK

                                            >"...I-uh. I didn't mean to say it that way..."

                                            "You are one distracted mare."

                                            >Don't say it

                                            "After we eat, how about we find something to read and get that taken care of?"

                                            >Dammit Anon

                                            >You're on a date, you can't just offer that

                                            >"Yes! Absolutely! Full belly, empty b..."

                                            >As much as you are trying to ignore it, her volume and antics have been attracting some stares

                                            >It's either that, or the fact that you're on a date right above your work place

                                            >Ponyville really isn't so weird but either because of you or Sleaze, a lot of flaring mares tend to stick around

                                            >Understandable, if not every mare or stallion is comfortable with the dual-teamers

                                            >"Uh... y-yeah. Yes please."

                                            >"And the sparks are flying! Thankfully things haven't gotten too hot, because the pizza certainly is!"

                                            >Low Breeze hip checks two sliced up pizzas on the table

                                            >They are very plainly obvious freezer pizzas

                                            >Which aren't bad

                                            >But it's criminal how she's so proud of herself

                                            >"Only the best ingredients, perfect for a date... uh."

                                            >Breeze twists her head back to a clock

                                            >And back

                                            >"Lunch! Yeah. Date lunches."

                                            >She gives you a coy glance

                                            >"Perfectly normal time for a date, I'm sure... either way, you two let me know if anything is missing!"

                                            >Barmare trots off, pleased with herself

                                            >You can't be the only one who knows her secret

                                            >She doesn't even try to hide it

                                            >"Alright, pizza time! You know, if I were good at baking? I bet I could make a pizza too! But it'll never be as good as what's made here."

                                            "Oh, I wouldn't think that. Home made is unbeatable."

                                            >"And that's what she made us! Home made pizza, custom drinks, she's the best!"

                                            >Hardly

                                            >If Sleaze is even attempting to take credit for Grape's drink idea, you're going to have to geld her

                                            "Well.... true, I guess."

                                            >Egos aside, you're still plenty hungry