[copied from https://pastebin.com/hAB2xFx5 ] "Octavia's Symphony" (Complete) by anonymous. >----------- >Be Octavia >The moon hangs overhead and crickets chirp in nearby bushes >Your love for Anon has driven you to spend yet another night watching over him through the window >He's sitting inside now, eating some ChintzyPop brand popcorn as he reads a copy of "The Neighbor Girl" >It's just some torrid romance novel, or so you would've thought before Anon showed you just how good it was >You've already read it a dozen times now, just so you can be closer to him >How you long to talk with him about the subtle sexual nuances of the relationship between Bubble Burst and her hairdresser, and the book's overarching themes of dedicated lovers and the triumph of love over all >You know he'd love to hear about it, while he runs his hand through your mane and calls you a good pony >Just the thought makes you shiver all over >But no, not yet, the time isn't right >You know he knows you're here, and you know he loves you, but he is busy now, with his life in Ponyville >You can relate, you know just how much time and effort can go into one's career >Working for the orchestra took everything you had, nearly every waking moment as you scraped by on your meager salary >And you know too how lonely it can be, getting up early every day, working until dark, and being so tired that all you can do is crawl into bed when you get home >Years can pass you by doing that >Years, without anyone to hold you or tell you you're beautiful, which you know Anon would do for you, if you were sitting inside with him right now >That's why you can relate to him so much, as if you were made for each other >His drive, his passion for his job, he's just like you in every way >The way he lifts heavy objects and moves them around for other ponies - it's as if his burdens are like the ones you shoulder every night, when you watch over him from outside >One day you will be together >But not yet, not quite yet >You reach into your bag of ChintzyPop and stealthily pull out some popcorn, careful not to rustle the cheap cellophane >It's all you eat anymore, just like Anon >Sure, he eats other things, but this is his favorite snack, his comfort food, providing him comfort just like you do >The diet doesn't exactly agree with your digestion, but it doesn't matter, even if you had to suffer for the rest of your life, you would do it for him >He can't smell your popcorn farts from inside, but you know he'd like them >Your old self would've have been appalled, but your old self was also a fool >A bitter, lonely fool who would've scoffed at your love and said that you'd "let yourself go" >Your mane and fur are matted and sticky, your once-manicured hooves are rough and peeling, and you stink of sweat and urine >But none of that matters, because Anon loves you, and you love him >Right now he's chewing on a big wad of ChintzyPop >Probably has a bunch of mashed-up kernels grinding between his teeth, getting saturated with his saliva, getting all wet and gooey >You feel yourself getting hot >A shudder of pleasure washes over you as Anon keeps on giving you a show, reaching down to scratch his crotch >Oh Celestia, he's such a tease >You relish the sight, your heart pounding in your chest, wondering what he'll do next >Last night it had been so hot that he'd taken off his shirt, and you'd nearly given yourself away with your moans of pleasure as you masturbated to orgasm again and again >He came out to look for you, pretending that he was just looking for a cat, but you know he heard you >You'd curled up to sleep that night feeling warm and fluttery inside, knowing that Anon knew how much pleasure he gave you >You hope one day you can give him as much pleasure as he's given you >You fantasize about it all the time, coming up with all kinds of wild scenarios >Sometimes you save him from all the bastards and whores who use him, and you treat his wounds, his strong hands, running your hoof through his hair as you wash his face >He opens his eyes and sees you, and he smiles, knowing that he is finally safe with the one he loves the most >You kiss him hard, sucking on his tongue and biting his lips, making him groan with pleasure >You nose down his perfect chest and stomach, worshiping his body, until you're nosing his beautiful penis >You think about it constantly, the shape and color of the head, the way it would pulse in your hooves, your mouth, the way the precum would dribble out ever so slightly at your touch >The smell of his balls, the way you sometimes sniff vinegar and vanilla extract to emulate it, that wonderful musk that instantly makes you wet >The soft little hairs of his scrotum against your tongue, the way his testicles would retract as he got close to cumming, the pulse of his shaft as his hot sperm spurted from his cock hole >You return to reality to find yourself drooling, your thighs slick, your breath steaming the glass of the window >Instantly you recoil into the bushes, panicking >You know that he knows you're there, but he shouldn't see you; he should never see you >You hold your breath, watching him, but he's still reading his book >In fact, it looks like he's dozing a little in his seat >With a sigh of relief you exhale, knowing that everything's all right >Tonight's not the night, but one day, you will be together >One day >Circumstances change the next night >You can feel it coming on, the need pulsing in your crotch >You're going into estrus >Every rational part of your brain tells you to stay home, that you won't be able to control yourself if you're that close to Anon >But your heart reminds you that you have to watch over him >You have to be the one to protect him; he NEEDS you there >So once again you find yourself outside Anon's window, as your pussy spasms between your legs >Every so often, thick urine comes out in uncontrollable spurts, the heady scent making you even hornier >It's so strong that you worry that Anon will smell it through the window and come looking for you again >You're a little embarrassed, but you feel warm inside again, knowing that Anon understands >He knows you're in estrus, and he still loves you >You know he'd give you such satisfaction if you were together >A little moan escapes you and you bite your lip >Your eyelids flutter as consciously you flex your asshole, fantasizing about his penis sliding inside >You know he would love anal with you, your tight ass massaging his cock better than any other mare could >The sensation of his thick penis pushing and pulling on your asshole like his own personal fucksock makes your hind legs tremble >Your hoof is rubbing hard against your stiff clit before you're even aware of what you're doing >Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you try to calm yourself >You have to hold out until Anon falls asleep and you know he's safe >He knows how horny you are, how aroused you'll get watching him >Part of you feels fluttery, knowing that he's going to tease you, but part of you hopes that he won't make you suffer too much, knowing that you can't be together right now >Why, if he were to pull out his penis and start to stroke it right in front of you, you might just scream >But right now he's just reading his book again >He's getting close to the end, where Bubble Burst finally confesses her love to her neighbor, and the two have sex >It's your favorite part >Sure, the book is cliche and prosaic on the surface, but when you look deeper into the narrative, it unfolds with a richness that only you and Anon can possibly comprehend >It's like a tapestry of your love, illustrating all that's in store for you and your relationship >Just thinking about your love for Anon is enough to fill your heart with songs again >One day he will hear you play your cello, and he will kiss you all over and tell you just how much he loves your music >He'll run his fingers through your fur, your mane, and he'll pick you up and hold you so you can hear his heartbeat and smell his body >You'll be together, and you both will finally be with the one you love more than anything >For now though this window separates you, and you can only watch >Your breath catches in your throat as Anon puts his book down and stretches, extending his arms over his head, accentuating his shoulders and chest >Your little gasps turn to soft, needy moans as he gets up, cracks his neck, then gets on the floor and starts doing pushups >You'd seen him do this before, and every time it drove you wild, even under normal conditions >Now, with hot juices flowing freely from your winking slit, it's almost as if each push-up is Anon thrusting his manhood deep inside you >Unblinking, you watch him, your eyes wide, taking in every moment, every bead of sweat on his forehead >You groan and shiver as you faintly hear the sounds of his exertion, his grunting and labored breathing >Your brows knit together as a shiver runs down your spine and into your limbs, your asshole tightening and your pussy gaping in one long spasm >You can feel yourself about to cum, and you aren't even touching yourself >When Anon flips over and starts doing crunches, you know he's just doing this to torture you >You have a full view of his crotch and the bulge in his shorts as he does each sit-up >He knows how much this is turning you on >He knows that you're gasping with arousal, flushed and shaking, yearning to rub your clit >He's testing you, you realize >He's seeing if he can trust you not to relieve yourself, because you haven't controlled yourself so well in the past >When he needed you to be watchful and on guard, instead you had masturbated most shamefully, surrendering to the pleasure Anon was giving you, when he needed you to watch over him >Now he wants to see if you can resist the urge, even when you are at your most compromised >It takes all of your willpower, but you manage to resist >You bite your lip until it bleeds, tears streaming out the corners of your eyes, but you resist the urge to rub your poor, aching pussy >You know Anon will reward you for doing this for him >He has to >He just has to >He loves you too much not to >"Please," you whisper, watching him through the window. "Please, please..." >Like the horrible, wonderful tease he is, he ignores you >He pulls off his shirt, revealing his sweaty body >Instantly you imagine the smell of him, imagine sticking your nose right in his armpit, licking his body all over and tasting every drop of his sweat >Your gasps and moans are getting louder and louder, but you don't care, you're trying so hard not to touch yourself, you're being such a good pony >"Please..." you beg, nearly sobbing, your limbs trembling as you sink onto your haunches, grinding your cunt against the ground, trying to ignore the intense pulsing need in your belly >The soil is turning to mud beneath you >A twig snaps as you lean into the bush >Anon's head whips around to look through the window >Your heart pounds as his eyes alight upon your position, although you know he can't see you, you're too deep in the bush >Your whole body freezes, your muscles tense, as you wait for him to make a move >The moment he stands and makes for the door, you bolt >At least, you try >The ground, muddy from your piss and juices, makes you slip and fall >You land with a splat on the ground >You struggle to stand, but your hooves have difficulty finding purchase in the mud >You hear the door slam and footsteps running up behind you >Just as you finally manage to stand, you look up just in time to make eye contact with Anon >Your heart leaps into your throat and you stand there, frozen >He looks at you in shock >"Who...," he starts, before breaking off. "Are you okay?" >Tears flow freely down your cheeks as you stare at him >It wasn't supposed to be like this >It's too soon, too soon >The words choke and die in your throat. >"I... I..." >He takes a step toward you, but you immediately back away >You're just a filthy, stupid pony, you realize >A failure of a musician, a little rube who never should have dreamed of dallying with high class ponies >Let alone this beautiful man before you >How could you ever think you could be worthy of him >He deserves someone better, someone beautiful, who's not afraid to talk to him >Someone who doesn't sit outside his window stinking of piss >Someone who isn't you >You can't hold back the tears anymore >Sobbing, you turn and run into the woods, galloping off into the darkness >You hear Anon calling after you, but you press on, fighting that weak part of you telling you to go back >It's better this way, you tell yourself >Anon will be better off without you >You run until your legs can carry you no further, and when you fall, you sob until you fall asleep. >Two weeks have passed since that debacle >Your ears still burn with shame whenever you think about it >You in your boundless stupidity had disturbed your relationship with Anon >He had been so kind about it, so gentle and caring, reaching out to you that night >You would never have thought it possible, but after that night you felt more sure of the strength of his love for you than you ever had before >But you... you were just a stupid, filthy mare, unworthy of that love >You had proven it that very night, when you'd allowed him to see you >That wasn't how it was supposed to be >You were supposed to watch over him, protecting him, until that moment that he felt safe enough to approach you >For so long you've been his comfort, his safe place, but you'd put it all in jeopardy thanks to your incompetence >The events of that night were the worst thing you could've possibly imagined >How hurt Anon had looked, under his expression of kindness and worry... hurt that you, Octavia, had caused >The first week you'd been inconsolable >You'd locked yourself in your room, tearing up your stained pillows and ragged bedspread in your anguish >You'd eaten nothing; you weren't even worthy of ChintzyPop >Curled up in a ball on the floor, you'd cried for hours, sobbing Anon's name, begging for his forgiveness >If you still had your whore roommate, the bitch might actually have been concerned about you >But she'd left long ago, after a falling out about your grooming habits >She'd had the gall to call you "disgusting," and been gauche enough to comment on the smell of your vagina >As if that cunt didn't have semen leaking out of her 24/7 >Good riddance >Regardless, that first week you didn't even masturbate; even in your estrus, you were too distraught to relieve yourself >You survived only on tap water and saltines, until your hunger finally drove you from the house >You still remember the look the convenience store clerk had on his face when you'd showed up in the middle of the night to buy some ramen and bananas >After that you'd gone home, taken a shower, and gone to sleep >You dreamt of Anon that night, holding you in his arms, before blackness engulfed you both >You'd woken up with a gasp, and knew that you had to see him again >He needed you to see him >At first, you didn't know what to do >Just going back to his window wasn't an option; he might catch you again >After a few hours of dithering you'd plucked up the courage to go spy on him while he was working during the day >You'd done it before once or twice, always shaking with nervousness, but you'd never been caught >Anon had even seen you once, but he didn't even let on, he'd looked right through you as if you were any other pony >He really is quite devious about keeping your love a secret >He's just too good >You had stood in the foyer of your house for an hour, trembling as you periodically touched the door, trying to muster the strength to go outside >It took a long, soothing masturbation session with two bananas to finally calm your nerves >You did it on your belly, resting against the bed, imagining Anon's strong arms holding you down ever so gently >In your fantasy, he was fucking you in both holes at once, thrusting into your pussy and asshole as he whispered soft words of forgiveness in your ear >It had felt so good that you started crying in the middle >But once that was done, you'd cleaned yourself off and stumbled out into the bright sunlight >You went to the market street where you knew Anon worked as a porter for the merchants there >It was easy to find him; he towers over the ponies, and is constantly moving from one shop to the other >He has such a gift with words and making friends >But you know that despite his gregariousness, he's vulnerable inside, something he only shows to you >You want to hold him so badly, to tell him that it's all right, that he can open up to you >But that day, you had to control yourself >No more mistakes >So you'd sidled up to the local cafe, gotten some straight black coffee, and sat beneath a pin-striped umbrella >You watched him for hours, pretending to be busy with the newspaper >He pretended not to notice, but you knew that he knew you were there >You were both pretending, playing this little game, so that none of the other ponies would know of your love >Almost immediately you'd felt that wonderful fluttery feeling return, knowing that Anon still loved you, even though you had been such a fool that night >And when, after three hours, he happened to glance in your direction while wiping his brow, you knew in your heart that all was forgiven >When his eyes had casually passed over you, you'd felt the heat rush into your cheeks, and tingling spread all down your body >You'd looked down, smiling from ear to ear as you blushed, trembling, to the point that the waiter asked if you were alright >You'd excused yourself to the powder room and then climbed out the window without paying >(Rent is expensive for a single tenant, and you have hardly any bits to your name) >That night you'd pulled out your cello for the first time in weeks, and when you played your Symphony d'Anon, you knew he could hear you >Indeed, now that Anon had told you that he'd forgiven you, you began to see him everywhere >Out of the corner of your eye you'd see him, watching you, and warmth would rush over you as you instantly knew you were safe >Perhaps you weren't such a bumbling fool after all >Even though you'd bungled everything by letting him see you, it seemed that Anon - gentle, kind, loving Anon - had finally seen the strength of your love for him >And now he was watching over you, just as you watched over him >For all of that second week, you'd lingered in your room as much as possible >You'd cleaned your sheets, groomed your mane to an immaculate sheen, and dressed in the sexiest clothes you could find >Every night you gave Anon a show, knowing that he was watching you, and finally you could give him the pleasure he deserved >You didn't know if he was stroking himself to you - he was such a gentleman, after all - but you would not have minded if he was >You took your time, teasing him just like he teased you, drawing out his ecstasy as you tantalizingly removed one piece of clothing after the other >Once you even played your cello in the nude, your window completely open, a risque maneuver that had you dripping all over your chair once you were done >Doing this every night filled you with such a hot thrill, and only intensified your burning desire for Anon >You'd visualized him sitting out there, hiding in the bushes, watching your every move >Last night you'd gone the farthest you ever had with him, as you peeled off your panties and spread your legs in front of the window, giving him full view of your winking slit >You'd rubbed yourself, slow at first, but growing more and more frantic in your movements until you couldn't hold it anymore >"Anon," you'd moaned, mouthing his name so that he could see it, as you stared with your best sultry look into the darkness. "Anon... I love you." >Your clit had pulsed against your hoof, straining in its hood, as with every wink hot soup had spurted onto the floor >Your hind legs buckled as you drew close to orgasm, and fell against the window, holding yourself up as you finally succumbed to the pleasure >Marecum spurted everywhere, and as tears had flowed down your face, you had thrown open the window and crawled out, calling out to Anon, begging for him to hold you after making you cum >But he was too fast, and was long gone by the time you got to the bushes he'd been hiding in >You'd laid there in the dirt, smelling the spot where he'd just been, panting and shaking with your need for him >It was only when your neighbors came out with a flashlight that you snuck back inside >Now it is morning again >You awaken feeling refreshed, and thinking only of Anon >You realize that you were a fool again, that you'd let your emotions get the better of you >But somehow you don't think that Anon minded >In fact, you think he quite likes your little shows, and your passion >Why wouldn't he? >He comes every night, after all >You eat some ChintzyPop for breakfast, and start thinking of new ways to show your appreciation >You start with "Lady Clopperley's Lover" >Anon had assuredly finished "The Neighbor Girl" by now, and he needed some new reading material >Something in a similar vein, but perhaps a little more... highbrow >You smile as you secretly slide the romance novel into his mailbox while he's out working >What better way to show your appreciation than with a gift? >Just think, Anon is going to touch something that you've touched with your own hooves >The idea makes you tremble with fear and arousal >You feel both incredibly nervous and incredibly excited >Of all the things you've done for Anon up to now, this hasn't been one of them >What if he doesn't like it? What if he thinks it's stupid? >No, you tell yourself. He'll love it, just like he loves you >He'll love everything you give him, because he is a kind and generous lover >And you want to do your absolute best to give him the most special and thoughtful gifts you can >He deserves it, oh does he deserve it >You feel like your relationship is at a tipping point >You two are so close now, so close to finally realizing your love for one another >You're so excited that you gallop all the way home >Slamming shut the front door, you collapse against it, panting with glee >Eagerly you stare at the clock, watching the hours tick by, rocking from side to side >Soon it is 6:15 PM, and you know Anon is walking up to his house right now >You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking violently with pleasure, as you fantasize him opening his mailbox and pulling out the book >His hands run all over the cover of "Lady Clopperley's Lover" >His fingers trace where your hooves held it, brushing over the book as if he were caressing your skin >The image is almost enough to make you squeal with delight, if you weren't a refined lady >Instead you climb into the tub and press your nose into the shower rack where you keep open bottles of vanilla extract and vinegar >A rotting banana is taped to the shower tile >Sensually you lick the tip, letting its musk fill your nostrils along with the scents of vanilla and vinegar >You imagine Anon sitting on his couch, settling in to read the book you gave him >Generously he slides off his work pants and lets his sweaty, erect penis sway free >Like a good, obedient little pony, you take his cock into your mouth >You imagine his soft groans of pleasure, his hand running encouragingly through your mane >The banana peel begins to split in your mouth >Mushy, strong-smelling pulp spills out onto your tongue >You suck it down greedily, as if you were sucking down Anon's sperm, letting it squirt down your throat >His hips are thrusting against you now, and he's pulling your hair and moaning your name >You moan around the mess of mush and disintegrating peel in your moth, your hindquarters presented high in the air, hoof buried between your legs >Anon tells you he loves your gift as you cum >You collapse, shivering, in the tub, and float in a haze of pleasure as Anon reads the book you gave him >He flips through the pages, enraptured, until he falls asleep >Knowing that he is satisfied, you smile and drift off into dreamless slumber >You are incredibly tense the next morning, your eyes glued on the clock as you wait for Anon to leave his house >As soon as 10 AM rolls around, you rush over and throw open his mailbox >You gasp as a wave of pleasure washes over you >The book isn't in there >He must've taken it >He must've touched it, with his hands >Oh Celestia, it feels so good >You're trembling all over, your entire body quivering, your heart racing, as you stumble back home >You crawl under the dining room table to masturbate, crying a little from happiness >You imagine yourself knocking on Anon's door, and he lets you in >He lets you rest your head in his lap, and he strokes your mane while reading about Lady Clopperley and her strong, capable lover >He lets you masturbate, and he doesn't mind at all when you sniff deeply into his armpits, or when you cum, hard, on his leg >But as the afterglow fades, worry begin to set in, as you realize that you have to give him another gift >You have to, Anon is counting on it >Luckily it's not too difficult to come up with the next one >It takes a good chunk of your remaining bits, but you buy a case of ChintzyPop from the convenience store >The clerk gives you a strange look, and for a moment you feel afraid, wondering if he's somehow figured out your love for Anon >If this bastard tries to stop you, you don't know what you'll do to him >But he wordlessly rings up the purchase and lets you go on your way without incident >You'll have to avoid that place from now on; that clerk cannot be trusted >Back home, the rational part of you knows that it would be rather extravagant to give someone an entire case of popcorn >Even though Anon loves the stuff, and you love him more than anything, you recognize the need for a little moderation >You staple three bags together >After stuffing them in Anon's mailbox, you look around for someplace to hide >It was wonderful to visualize him taking your gift last night, but this time you want to see it with your own eyes >You settle for a nearby gazebo in a public park, far enough away that no one will suspect anything, but close enough that you can see Anon when he gets home >You sit and doze for hours, waiting for the day to go by >Around 2 in the afternoon, some mares out for a stroll give you weird looks, but you stopped caring about the opinions of cunts long ago >At 4, you see the mailpony arrive >Anger flashes through you when you see him pull your precious gift from Anon's mailbox >You're plotting ways to exact vengeance for the impending theft, when the stallion simply shrugs and puts it back >You breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that the power of your love has repulsed the bastard >He drops off his foul payload and goes off to finish the rest of his route >You'll have to be careful of that one; he knows where you live >The next two hours crawl by at a snail's pace >You feel as if time itself is conspiring against you, trying it's best to stop the union between you and Anon >You smile a little at this foolishness, knowing that thought is silly >There is NOTHING that can stop your love. >Finally 6:15 arrives. You're already dripping with anticipation >You poke your head up over the railing of the gazebo >Your heart leaps in your chest as Anon makes an appearance >He struts down the road, so masculine, so strong >Everything seems to slow down as he reaches his mailbox >He opens it, pulling out his letters, his bills, the other garbage >And then >The ChintzyPop is in his hands >You're trembling hard, your hooves nearly white from the pressure of being pressed up against the wall of the gazebo >Your whole body tenses as Anon scratches his head and looks around, feigning confusion >He knows it's from you >He knows how much thought and care you put into giving it to him >He knows how much you love him >And with a shrug, he places the popcorn under his arm, and goes inside >You nearly orgasm then and there >Your vulva is winking wildly, scraping against the rough wood of your seat, your hot pussy juices dripping down onto the ground >That shrug... that shrug told you everything you needed to know >It was as if he had tucked YOU under his arm and carried you in, instead of the popcorn >Shaking, gasping, you stagger out of the gazebo, leaving a trail of vaginal fluid behind you >A mare suddenly turns around a hedge in front of you, nearly colliding with you >You brush past her without a word >"Um, hi," she says, her voice suddenly breaking off. "What the f-" >You go into a full gallop, putting that bitch behind you >You hardly care, you're so happy >So very happy >Anon loves you >And you're going to see him very, very soon >You can hardly sleep that night >Not even masturbation can calm your nerves >Every time you near climax, you imagine Anon holding you in his arms >And every time you spasm, clear fluid dripping around your hoof, knowing that this fantasy will soon be your reality >Anon had known all about your little gifts >He knew you were watching him there, from the gazebo >After all those nights of him watching you through your window, of making love to you with his presence, it seemed as if he was finally ready to make it all real >Him taking the ChintzyPop was practically an invitation, wasn't it? >Wasn't it? >Of course it was >Anon is a tease, but he wouldn't just jerk you around >He's not that kind of man >He's gentle, and kind, and ready to take your relationship to the next level >Still, you can't help but feel nervous >You try to reassure yourself, telling yourself that Anon must be just as nervous as you are, but that only makes it worse >You want to be able to comfort him, to help him relax, but you don't know how you'll be able to do that if you're panicking around him >You'll just have to be as calm as you possibly can, and hope that'll be good enough >The next morning, you begin making your preparations >You take a nice long shower, and start the long process of taming your thick, tangled mane >Part way through you drop the brush, your hooves are shaking so badly >You take a few deep breaths, then turn off the bathroom lights and crawl into the shower to masturbate >You close your eyes, letting the warm water wash over you in the darkness, as you soothe yourself >It's around 2 by the time you finally finish grooming yourself >You eat something small, not wanting to ruin your appetite for the fine dinner Anon surely has planned this evening >Humming to yourself, you wrap up your next gift for Anon, tying a bright gauzy bow around it >You're sure he'll be thrilled to open it >5 o' clock rolls around, and you stand again in the vestibule of your house >You twitch nervously, sweat dripping down your neck >The front door is the only barrier between you and Anon now >Try as you might, you've been unable to quell your nerves >You feel like you're going to explode with anxiety >But you have to do this >For Anon >Shakily you turn the doorknob and head outside >Tension floods your body as you walk to his house >You feel as if you cannot relax your face >Your eyes squint against the bright sun, and your jaw aches >It takes you almost a minute to realize that you've reached his street >Hyperventilating a little, you turn in place, looking for somewhere to stand >You eventually choose the little wooden fence bordering the sidewalk out front of Anon's house >By now it's about 5:30 >And so you wait, holding Anon's gift in your hooves >Time passes with impressive slowness, and again you curse it >Fuck time >And fuck the cunty mares that keep glaring at you from their yards, too >Why can't they just mind their own business? >It's not your fault that they resigned themselves to loveless marriages in this soulless neighborhood >This place would be colorless and dead, were it not for one person >Anon >Your heart is pounding hard in your chest >You shuffle from side to side, looking constantly between the ground, fence, and sky, but never at the street >He'll be arriving any minute now >You have to look casual, to keep up appearances >If you don't do it right then Anon might not feel safe enough to let you in >You have to calm down, you tell yourself >But as you struggle to do so, you catch movement in the corner of your eye >You glance in his direction, then quickly look away, at a tree >Anon is coming home >Blood is pulsing in your ears as he gets closer and closer >You have to do something, something to signal to him that you're ready if he is >You crane your neck in his direction, your head turning while your eyes remain fixed on the tree >You have to look at him >Your force yourself to look at him >Oh Celestia >He's looking at you >Not through you, but at you >You feel a wave of numbness wash over you >You're not even sure if your heart is beating anymore >You urge yourself: do something, Octavia! >Forcing it, your mouth twitching, you put on your brightest smile >Your teeth press together painfully >Anon, graceful Anon, smiles back and gives you a little nod >Numbness turns to warmth >You melt in the light of that smile >Your hind leg twitches, and you feel a little droplet of marecum dribble down your thigh >Anon keeps walking >For a moment you stand there frozen, unblinking, staring at the road >You hear the sound of his door opening, then closing >By the time you turn to look, he's already gone inside >Your mind races >He left you out here >Why? >Why did he not pick you up and take you inside? >You start shaking, and you feel your eyes getting wet >Were you wrong? Did you misread the signs? >No, no, that's impossible. Anon's feelings are clear as day >Why, then, are you not in there now, nuzzling his neck as he rubs your flanks and whispers sweet nothings in your ear? >Something must be wrong, you realize >Something's happened to Anon, and he's trying to tell you what it is >You look around, trying to see what he wants you to see >None of the mares are in their yards anymore >All is quiet in the neighborhood >Or so it would seem >A hoof taps you on the shoulder >You whirl around, your mane in your face >That mare from yesterday is standing there >She looks like a stupid bitch >"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but this is a private neighborhood," you hear her say, in her annoying voice. "You've been standing there for almost an hour, do you -" >You interrupt >"Leave." >The mare blinks, looking stunned >You stare her down, not moving an inch >Slowly she backs away, then gallops off >A wise decision >With her gone, you're able to focus on your mission >You have to figure out what's wrong with Anon >You go around behind his house and settle into the bushes >Here you were getting messy again, after all that work cleaning up and fixing your hair >Sacrifices had to be made, for the good of Anon >You'd give up anything, to make sure he was safe >It's still too light out to watch him from this close, so you'll have to wait until nightfall >You dig in with his gift, the box proving a poor pillow, and wait as the sun slowly sets >Endless possibilities whirl like a carousel of terror in your mind >You don't know what's wrong with Anon, and you can't help as your imagination conjures up the worst possibilities >Maybe someone found out about your love, and is blackmailing him >You feel anger boiling within you at the thought >You would never allow someone to do that to him >If you ever found out who it was, that pony would wish he'd never been born >Or maybe Anon was just nervous, like you'd thought >Your own anxiety is making you feel ill >Imagine how Anon must feel >Sympathy fills you and tears come to your eyes >Poor, poor Anon >You wrap your hooves around yourself, imagining that Anon is in your embrace, trembling >You coo sweet words to him and tell him that everything is going to be all right >He's safe now >It's all you want for him, for him to be safe >Darkness finally comes, and you're able to peer out through the bushes >Instantly you know that something is definitely wrong with Anon >He's not even reading "Lady Clopperley's Lover" >It's just sitting there on his coffee table, buried under a stack of bills >Anon himself is lying on his couch, wearing just some shorts, socks, and a t-shirt >He's thrown his arm over his eyes to make it look like he's taking a nap, but you know the truth >He's suffering inside >It takes all your willpower not to just jump through his window and go to him >If he wanted you right now, he'd come out and get you >You have to respect his desire for solitude >And so you wait, watching him, biting your hooves in your worry for him >Seeing him like this is one of the worst things you've ever felt >You don't know what you'd do if harm ever came to him >Horrible scenes flash through your mind - Anon getting hurt, Anon dying, Anon being separated from you >It makes you feel so sick that you gag >Wiping your mouth, you tell yourself to be strong >You have to be strong for Anon, especially now, when he needs you most >You remain vigilant, protecting him with your watchful gaze >You're not sure how much time has passed, but the moon is high in the sky and all the stars are out >Suddenly you hear a knock at the door >Anon gets up, looking groggy >You wait for him to go down the hallway, before creeping around the side of his house to see who his visitor is >You feel a sinking sensation in your guts when you see who's at the door >Two tough-looking guard ponies, a mare and a stallion, are waiting to ambush Anon >This must be what's been troubling him - he's had a run-in with the law >It's not his fault, of course not >Anon would never do anything illicit, unless he had to, to save someone he loved >No, this must be the fault of one of those bastards he works for, trying to pin some crime on him >Well think again, scumbag >You're not about to let Anon take the fall for some deadbeat criminal >You'll save him, no matter what it takes >Anon opens the door, and you see the guard ponies ask him a question >He shakes his head and speaks in his calm way, obviously trying to defuse the situation >He's clearly innocent, but you can't trust these idiot guards to do their jobs >You have to step in before things get out of hoof >You stumble out of the shadows and head directly toward them >The stallion notices you first, glancing at you and doing a double take >"Uh, is that the one?" he asks his partner, pointing at you >"Matches the description," she says. She nods to Anon. "Stay inside, sir. Let us handle this." >You smirk, knowing that you've diverted their attention >As soon as they start moving toward you, you immediately turn and run >You hear them shouting as they chase after you >Images of Anon flash through your mind as you dash into the night >Him holding you, kissing you, carrying you to bed >They fill you with strength and speed >But before you can even react, you feel hooves on your back, and a moment later you're on the ground >Somehow they caught up to you >You thrash, kicking, as the stallion hefts you up >"Calm down, lady," he grunts. "Fucking hell, stop struggling!" >"What are you doing out here?" the mare asks >You look away, refusing to even acknowledge her presence >You'll never give up Anon, no matter what they do to you >She just shrugs and sighs >"Well, let's get you down to the station. You look like you could use a meal, at least. Are you homeless?" >As they drag you off, those images of Anon begin to fracture in your mind >You realize, suddenly, that you might not ever see him again >This sacrifice might've just cost you your soulmate >You burst into tears and begin to sob loudly >Your breath wracks your body, doubling you over as the stallion struggles to hold you still >Through your watery eyes you see Anon still standing in his doorway, watching >His eyes are wide with concern >Anon... >You're so, so sorry >You know how much it must hurt him to see you like this >It hurts, so much, but you manage to swallow it >You swallow all your anguish, choking back the tears, so he doesn't have to see you suffer >You will bear it quietly, and proudly, for him >He's safe now, because of you >And that's all that matters >The guards are leading you away, when you hear a voice calling after you >The mare stops and looks back >You hear her talk as you stare blindly at the ground >When you finally look back to see who she's talking to, you nearly faint >Anon is coming up to you >Brave, brave Anon >You want to call out to him, to tell him no, to save himself, but you know that this is his way >You tremble all over, watching him come toward you like an avenging angel >"Yeah, uh, we're friends," he says. "Hadn't seen her in awhile, guess she's having some trouble." >The mare sounds dubious when she replies. "You sure you want to take her? We can house her just as easily at the station." >"It's fine," Anon says, his voice like the golden water of heaven. "I'll make sure she gets back on her feet. Uh, hooves. Back on her hooves." >"Suit yourself," the mare says. "Make sure that that you do. We'll be back if we get another report about her skulking around." >The exchange a few more words, but you're barely listening anymore >Your eyes are glistening, and wide with wonder >You stare at Anon, your hero, your lover >Standing there in his t-shirt and shorts >His socks are all muddy >For you >You marvel at his prowess, his incredible silver tongue, fooling them with his made-up story >The guards walk away, grumbling to themselves, and you are left alone with him, all alone >His door is standing open >He scratches his head and sort of gestures toward it >"So uh, come on in I guess," he says. >These are the most beautiful words you've ever heard in your life >You can hardly believe this is really happening >Moving as if in a dream, you brush by him, smiling up at him >Everything is a blur as you walk through the threshold, into his house >At long last, you will finally be together >Anon's home is like paradise to you >The cheap linoleum of the kitchen, the peeling laminate of the countertops, the stained cupboards >>All of it glows with a golden sheen >You stand by his bare refrigerator, losing yourself in its celestial hum, when you hear Anon speak up >"You want something to eat?" >You shiver with excitement, knowing that Anon has prepared a fine dinner just for you >A beautiful prelude to a night of ecstasy >You struggle to get the words out, choking on your "yes," so you just nod emphatically >You watch as he takes out some spaghetti and heats it up in the microwave >He sits across from you at the kitchen table as you eat >The noodles taste divine, as if they were seasoned with Anon's own sweat >"So... what's your name?" he asks >You snort at this joke, nearly coughing up the spaghetti >For a long time you giggle, covering your mouth with your hoof >When finally you stop laughing, Anon is staring at you in mock confusion >Deadpan as always >You love his humor >It relaxes you a little >"Octavia," you manage to say, the final syllable turning high-pitched and strangled >He nods. "Well. Nice to meet you, Octavia. I'm Anon." >You giggle again, spaghetti falling out of your mouth this time >He can be such a riot when he wants to be >You know he's trying to make you feel better, and it's working >But you notice him looking strangely nervous >Emboldened a little, you reach out with your hoof to touch his hand >"Thanks for... h-helping me, out there." >Gently you caress his fingers, rubbing the backs with your hoof. Anon stares down at this, blinking. >"Um," he says. "What can I say? You, uh, you looked down on your luck. I know how that can feel. Sometimes you just need a friend to help you on your way." >You feel the heat rising in your face when he says this. He's so very, very kind. It makes you feel nervous again >You try to thank him, and tell him that you love him so very much, but the words don't come out >Shakily you pull back your hoof >Anon exhales and puts his hands under the table >Silently you stare down into you food and go back to eating >You can cut the sexual tension with a knife >You can feel his eyes all over you, and it feels incredible >As you chew, you focus on the soft sound of his breathing >You inch closer and closer without touching him, trying to feel his body heat >By the time you finish eating, a warm flush is in your cheeks, and you're winking with arousal >Surely Anon must know >The smell of it is filling his kitchen >But you see him staring out the window, pretending not to notice >A perfect gentleman >"S-So, ah," you whisper, after a few more minutes of silence. "Where are we s-sleeping tonight?" >As if snapping out of a reverie, he looks back at you and smiles >"You can have my bed, I suppose," he says. Then he jokes: "I can sleep on the couch." >You're too nervous to laugh >You go rigid, your heart thudding >It's finally happening >You pant a little, feeling a tingling heat sink into your limbs >You feel it from your forehead down to your hooves, a paralyzing excitement >You tremble, every muscle alive >Your juices coat your inner thighs, making it even more difficult to hide for modesty's sake >Anon is finally going to make you feel like a mare >Saliva fills your mouth, and you swallow quickly >He's already heading for the kitchen door >You follow after him, barely feeling your footfalls >It's as if you're gliding on air >When you step into his bedroom, you feel as if you're about to explode with anticipation >His floor is littered with clothes and his bedspread is a mess, but it's Anon's bed >And you're about to be on it >With him >A shiver runs through you and a spurt of hot marecum splashes on the floor >Anon flinches and looks back >"Did you drop something?" he asks >You shake your head, smiling at him before licking your lips >He gestures toward the bed >"Make yourself comfortable," he says. "We can talk more in the morning, Octavia. Get some good rest for now." >Like a spring releasing you leap onto the bed, burying your face in his sheets, thrusting your hindquarters high in the air >Tantalizingly you sway from side to side, showing off your arousal >You tremble hard, waiting for his touch, waiting for him to run his strong, gentle hands all over your ass >But it never comes >Slowly you sit up, his sheets falling away from your head >Anon isn't in the room >Of course he isn't >He's a tease, after all >Giggling to yourself, you climb down onto the floor and creep back out into the hallway >All is dark, save for the light of the living room at the end >You sneak down to the door and peer through >Anon is lying on the couch, a blanket thrown over his legs >He reaches over to dim the lamp, before throwing his arm back over his eyes and again pretending to nap >As quietly as a fox, you step into the room >You sneak over to where Anon is lying >You watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest >The blanket is only covering his shins; his crotch is fully exposed >Such a tease >Your mouth falls open, a little drool escaping >You lean in with your nose, and press it right up against his penis >Anon sits up in a flash, letting out a yelp >He fumbles for the lamp, but then sees you there, grinning up at him mischievously >"What - Octavia, what are you...?" >You tremble with nervousness, but you see that he's nervous too >And see too his rapidly stiffening erection, bulging in his shorts >"Shh," you whisper, shushing him, as you climb up onto the couch and into his lap >You bury your face against his chest. "Shh..." >He's so warm against you >You can feel his heart pounding >Deep, deep satisfaction spreads through you as you feel his cock pulsing up against your ass >His arousal fills you with courage >Trembling hard against him, more nervous than you've ever been before, you lift your mouth to his neck to caress it with your tongue >He smells better than you ever could have imagined, like sweat and ChintzyPop >The reality of him, the solidness of his form, defies comprehension >You feel dizzy knowing that this is happening, this is really happening >Anon grabs your forelimbs, firmly but gently >"This isn't right," he tries to say, his voice shaking from his nerves >Poor, poor Anon >He's just as nervous as you >He's just like you >Your perfect soulmate >You run a hoof through his hair >"We don't have to do anything you don't want to do," you whisper to him, leaning close to his ear. "But why fight it? We're meant to be together." >Anon says nothing at this >You feel him swallow, his body as tense as yours >But shortly he seems to relax a little, and his hands release your limbs >His arms fold around you, pulling you into his embrace >His fingers dig into your fur and rub gently at your back >His erection presses up against your vulva >Pleasure floods through you >Incredible, wonderful, indescribable pleasure >Pure euphoria, sapping the strength from your body, forcing you to submit completely >Tingling spreads throughout your body, a smile curls your lips, and your mind goes hazy >You shudder as you orgasm, coating his crotch with your hot fluids >You open your mouth to plant your teeth against his skin, and inhale deeply, pulling his scent into you >You moan softly, whimpering, shifting your weight from side to side, massaging his cock through his shorts with your winking cunt >You feel him trembling a little against you, his breath coming heavily >"This... hasn't really happened to me before," he says, sounding almost apologetic >"It's all right," you whisper, your eyes half-lidded as they make contact with his. "Everything's all right. We're together now." >You kiss him, mashing your mouth against his, thrusting your tongue into his mouth >The sensation of his strong, wet tongue twining with yours is enough to make you cum again, your thighs squeezing him tightly this time as you straddle him >His hands run down to your ass, and you press appreciatively into him, begging him for more with your movements >You yearn for him to reach down, to touch your pussy and asshole, to take you here and now >But he does not, instead choosing to tease you, caressing your sensitive skin with aching slowness >The pleasure of smelling him, of him touching you, of just being near him, makes you cum again >You moan needily, wrapping your legs around him >Slowly, gently, you reach down to touch his penis with your hoof >To your surprise, he quickly moves it away >"Not... not tonight," he says. "Let's just... take it slow." >You spasm at the though of waiting even longer, but you revel in the slow deliciousness that is Anon >"As you wish," you say. Then you blurt out: "I love you." >His eyes widen and he suddenly looks very nervous, so you calm him with another kiss on the mouth >You tease him with your pussy, grinding into his crotch >Soon he is hugging you again, stroking your mane and kissing you all over your face and neck >You sigh with absolute pleasure >This is going to be a long, wonderful night >Such a wonderful night >Anon holds you just as you knew he would >It's all so warm, so comfortable >You feel deliriously happy >Your body glistens with sweat >A grin is plastered on your face >You keep giggling, overwhelmed by joy >The tears come, and you bury your face against his chest, your whole body quaking >His hands glide across your body, leaving no inch of you untouched, save for your crotch >He knows just how to tease you >It's like he can read your mind >And he knows just how much you want him to dip his fingers into your slit >But he seems so vulnerable, so shy >You understand now why Anon waited so long for this >He must've been nervous about this, about physically touching you >Is this his first time? >Yes, you realize, yes, Anon is wonderful and pure >He must still be a virgin, just like you >All this time you'd fantasized about him taking you, teaching you the arts of lovemaking >When all along he was just as fresh and new as you are >Waiting for that special somepony with whom to take that special step, to explore that vast mysterious realm >Sex >How you long to explore his rivers and lakes, to climb his mountain, to lick his asshole >How you long for him to do the same to you >You shiver at the thought, drawing a gasp from him as you bite his neck >You will be wanderers together, on the plain of intimacy and romance >His virginity will be yours, just as yours will be his >You feel even closer to him now, knowing that he planned this all out >For years he's waited for you, saving himself, knowing that you'd come along one day to woo him >Such foresight; such genius >It makes you want him inside you all the more, grabbing your ass, pounding his hips up into you, moaning as his balls slam against your marepussy >You want him to explode into you and impregnate you with his ropes of seed >You want to feel his cock spurt inside you, the blood-engorged chambers of his shaft pulsing beneath the skin >Your breathing quickens and you push Anon hard into the sofa >Gingerly you climb on top of him until he has to incline his head up to kiss you >You grab him by the hair and pull his head back before kissing him savagely >You make sure to graze his lips with your teeth, your tongue aiming for his throat >His gag reflex kisses your tongue-tip >He pulls away, coughing >You press your nose into his ear, giggling >You see his beautiful eyes, wet in their sockets >Opening your lips wide, your tongue lolls from your mouth >You let some drool drip down >With your hooves you hold his face, peeling his eyelid open >Slowly, sensually, you lick his eyeball >You feel him shiver violently under you >His hands suddenly seize your hooves >You finally realize that he's trying to talk to you >"Octavia - Octavia!" he says, looking incredibly nervous. "Don't... don't do that. Holy fuck." >You suddenly feel very small >Is he not enjoying himself? Are you not good enough? >You're not good enough >You're scaring him, not calming him down >You're just awful, a horrible mare >You try to hold it back, to hide your shame, but you can't stop the tears >They leak out of your eyes as you struggle to maintain your composure >"D-Do you not like it?" you ask, your voice thick >You duck your head, unable to meet his gaze, his gentle, perfect gaze >How could you do such a terrible thing to this sweet man? >You suddenly feel like you want to die, for what you've done >But then Anon's hands are on your flanks, stroking you gently up and down >"No, it's just - let's just lie together, okay?" >Your breath catches as you look up at him >Through the mist of tears you see his face, framed by the soft glow of the lamp >He looks like an angel >His eyes are wide, but gentle >Filled with concern >And love >Relief rushes over you, soothing you, making you tremble >Each slow caress from his hands reassures you that you are safe >Anon loves you >Even if you make silly mistakes or frighten him, he won't mind >He understands that you're doing your best, and you don't mean to do anything bad to him >He knows you'll learn how to be the best lover you can be >And he'll never, ever leave you >Because the two of you are meant to be together, always >Relief washes into warm, fuzzy pleasure as he hugs you tightly >You gasp and bite your lip, closing your eyes as you fold into him >You imagine yourself soaking into him, becoming one with him >You imagine that slow, aching moment, when his beautiful penis will slide inside of you >Your vulva winking, inviting him in, sucking him in so warmly >So lovingly >It's inevitable at this point >You just need to wait for Anon >When he's ready, he'll take you >The ecstasy of your union will be indescribable >You shudder at the thought, drooling against him >You feel his heartbeat against your cheek >You smell his sweat, the musk of his precum >How you long to make him ejaculate for real, to see him succumb to pleasure, to see his face as he cums >But you must be patient >For Anon >You sigh blissfully, and wrap your forelimbs around him >He rocks you, ever so gently >The wind picks up outside, rustling the leaves >The crickets are chirping >You feel your eyelids growing heavy >Soon you are fast asleep, in the arms of your soulmate >Anon makes breakfast the next morning, oatmeal >It's the best thing you've ever tasted >As you eat it, you find your gaze wandering constantly back to Anon >You can hardly believe that this is really happening >He's right there >All yours >You watch as he pokes his oatmeal with his spoon >You're about to ask him why he's not eating, when he puts the utensil down >He clears his throat >"Octavia, about last night..." >You stare at him unblinking, smiling, enraptured by whatever he's about to say >"It was wrong of me to let you keep going. I should've carried you back to bed." >You blush bright red. "W-We can go there right now, if you want..." >"No Octavia. Listen to me." He fixes you with a surprisingly serious look. "You're in a bad place right now. And I took advantage. I'm sorry." >For a moment, you are confused >What could he possibly mean? >What happened last night was a mutual expression of love; both of your hearts had beat as one >And Anon's house is the best place you've ever been >You haven't felt this good in a long, long time >Then it dawns on you >He must still be nervous about being with you >He knows that you're ready for him to do whatever he wants with you, but he still wants to wait >He's trying to say this as kindly as possible, without hurting your feelings >Oh gentle, gentle anon >Your heart swells with love >You understand completely >Gently you reach out to take his hand in your hoof >"It's okay," you say, trying to keep your voice level. "You take as much time as you need. I'll wait for you." >Anon stares down at your hoof >You see him swallow hard >He squeezes your hoof >"We'll uh, we'll talk about this later." He stands up and starts pulling on his jacket. "I've gotta get to work. Stay inside and be a good pony while I'm gone, all right?" >The phrase "good pony" sends a shiver from the tips of your ears down your spine, all the way to your tail >You nod emphatically >As he goes toward the front door, you catch up to him and hug his leg >You kiss him in his kneepit >He stands there for a moment, then pets your mane >"I'll be back around 6 tonight. There's food for you in the kitchen. You can help yourself." >You feel him pulling his leg away, and eventually you let him go >"I love you," you say, smiling up at him. >He nods, looking nervous again. "S-See you later, Octavia." >And then he is gone, walking down the front path, down the street, and out of sight >You watch him leave, your nose pressed to the kitchen window >You have half a mind to follow him, to make sure he's okay at work, but he did tell you stay here >And you do want to be a good pony for Anon >You set about exploring his house from the inside >You sniff his toilet seat and roll around in his bed >A pillow serves as an expeditious masturbation aid >The case is soaked through by the time you're finished with it >You put it back on his bed, grinning mischievously, so he'll have it when he gets home >You pull one of his t-shirts over your head and go to sit by the front door >You're practically pulsating with giddiness, involuntary spasms running through your limbs >You can hardly wait for him to come home >But wait you must >The hours tick by >You are vaguely aware of hunger in your belly, and the need to urinate >But both those needs can wait >What if Anon came home early, and you were in the kitchen or the bathroom? >You wouldn't be able to greet him at the door >You wouldn't be a good pony >So you wait, as the day drags on, and the sunlight coming in through the windows turns orange, and the shadows turn long >Your whole body stiffens as you hear footsteps out on the path >When the door opens, you leap toward Anon, burying your face in his crotch as you hug him >He screams and staggers back >You instantly recoil >Panic, fluttering panic, fills you >Did you hurt him? >Oh Celestia you hurt him >You want to die >You're such an idiot mare >You look to him and see him standing there >He reaches out to you >"Sorry, you just - " >His eyes suddenly widen, and he looks down >"Octavia, are you...?" >You follow his gaze downward, just as you become aware of the warm trickle down your leg >You've pissed yourself, and all over Anon's floor >Tears fill your eyes >"I... I..." >You gasp as Anon suddenly picks you up with his strong arms >He cradles you against his chest >Swiftly he whisks you away to the bathroom, where he sets you down in the tub >With gentle slowness he strokes your mane >The panic begins to ebb from your body >You remember again that you are safe, and you close your eyes, focusing on Anon's fingers as they run through your hair >"Did you sit by the door all day?" Anon asks, his voice soft >You nod >Anon sighs quietly >"Octavia," he says. "You need help. Serious help. Help I'm not sure I can give you." >He must be talking about your need, your need for him, to be close to him >You have to understand his limits, you realize >He loves you, but you can't rush him >You kiss his hand >"Whatever you're comfortable with is good enough for me," you say. "I love you more than anything, Anon." >You try to look him in the eye, but you see that he's now holding his head in his hands >You decide to be quiet and let him think >After a few minutes he takes a long, shaky breath >His eyes are red when he looks at you, but he gives you a smile >"Lets go clean up the hall, then have some dinner," he says >After mopping up the mess you made, the two of you wash up and sit together at the dining table >Spaghetti again >As you eat, Anon asks you to tell him about your life, what you did for a living >You tell him all about your whore roommate, and your cello, and all your orchestra work >How you used to play for nobility and the wealthy, how you were nothing more than a walking musical billboard for other people to use to show off their status >How no one ever really cared about the hours you practiced, or the techniques or composers you studied, the sleepless nights spent poring over sheet music >No one cared about your comparative studies, your research, your compositions >No one cared about you at all >No one had even contacted you when you stopped showing up for rehearsals and shows >Your monthly paycheck simply disappeared, and that was the only notification you ever received that they knew you were gone >You tell him all about your observations of the bastards and whores of the world, how disgusting they are, how you never want to be like them >You tell him about your love for him, about how wonderful he is, how gentle and perfect >It feels so incredibly good to tell him that to his face, to see his blush and his smile >You tell him how when you were alone in your room, all alone with your cello with no one to play for, your love for music began to wither and die >And how it wasn't until you found him, and realized your love for one another, that the urge to play again surged through you like wildfire >How he was your muse, your angel of inspiration >"You... wrote a song about me?" he asks, after you tell him about the Symphony d'Anon >You nod. "It's my greatest achievement." >Both of you have finished eating. He wipes his mouth. >"C'mon then," he says, standing up. "Let's go to your place." >Your heartbeat quickens. "W-What for?" >"I wanna hear it, of course." >It's been a long time since you've played for someone else >The thought makes you incredibly nervous >But if it's what Anon wants, then you'll do it >Shakily you agree >Before you leave his house, Anon asks you one more question >"Do you happen to have a phonograph?" >Stepping through your front door is like returning to another world >Junk is strewn everywhere >Papers, empty bags of ChintzyPop, sexy clothes that you wore once then forgot to wash >Anon gracefully steps around the piles as you lead him into your den >Your bedroom is just as much a mess as the rest of the house >The carpet is covered with your loose hairs that you've never bothered to sweep up >The room is dim and smells musty >These walls have seen a lot of masturbation and a lot of ChintzyPop farts >You sit him down on the end of your bed, next to the tangled mound of sheets in which you would sleep after spending long nights watching him >A shiver runs through you, the thrill of it making your heart pound, knowing that Anon is sitting on YOUR bed >You sense a golden aura around him, his presence exuding life and vitality into this grey place >You know his skin flakes are shedding into the air >Perhaps even a hair will find its way onto your bedspread >Your back leg twitches as a sudden rush of pleasure makes your muscles seize >You gasp, releasing a little rivulet of marecum with a gaping wink >You glance over at Anon to see if he noticed, but he's staring down at the parcel in his hands >"You first," he says, smiling, when he finally looks up at you >Tension wracks your body as you pull out your cello case and open it up >The strings of the bow go taut as you tighten them >You try to calm yourself as you run rosin down the strings, imagining that the bow is his penis, the symphony his ejaculation >You work the tip, gently holding it in your teeth as you rub the yellow block of rosin up and down, up and down >Anon is staring at you wide-eyed when you set up to tune >You handle the pegs as gently as if they were his testicles, toying with them until they've been set just right >The sonorous notes of your cello fill the room, and then nothing, once you're satisfied with the sound >It's finally time to play >You close your eyes and take a deep, calming breath >"Just relax, Octavia," Anon says. "Have fun with it. It's just you and me here." >A warm blush washes down your face, and you smile >You feel your body relax, and your limbs become fluid >A strange new sensation is filling you, you realize >Peace >You set your bow to the strings, and begin to play >The first movement is sweeping and bold, a metropolis of sound, with vast notes of anguish evoking rainy nights and romance >You let the music carry you, to move you along with your bow and your cello >Your heart pounds as you imagine yourself walking the streets on a stormy midnight, catching glimpses of Anon under lamplight >You open your eyes briefly as you play, to gauge his reaction >Elation runs through you when you see his expression is not one of confusion or nervousness, but of awe >You close your eyes again as the sonata fades into the second movement >This one is slow and thoughtful, far more parochial in theme; meandering roads, wandering lovers >The long swinging notes of the opening sonata are echoed here, offering now yearning hope instead of anguish >With each draw of your bow you flush deeper, feeling hot tears pool in the corners of your eyes >You remember the first day you saw him, wiping his forehead of sweat as he walked up the road >Looking up at the clouds with a smile on his face >In that moment you had been transfixed by him, knowing then and there that you loved him >Your eyes are wet when you open them again, and you see that his are too >He's smiling at you >A surge of emotion floods into your forelimbs as you launch into the third movement >This one is a rousing dance, an up tempo festival song, partners spinning round and round beneath the stars >You stomp your hoof in time with the rhythm while your bow flies across the strings >Pure joy glows from Anon's face as he claps along with you, laughing >You're trembling when you reach the fourth movement, as the dance gives way once again to the sonata >The themes of the first two movements are combined here, the metropolitan and the parochial, the notes of anguish and the notes of hope >You sway with your instrument, feeling a lightness in your chest and heaviness in your crotch >You imagine yourself dancing with Anon, letting him lead you through the empty streets >You imagine him picking you up and holding you tightly in his arms, kissing you, making love to you >The rush of the romance washes over you, your heart pounding in your chest >You're crying as you finish the final measures, smiling uncontrollably, as sobs begin to wrack your body >The final note resonates in your musty room, and then all is silent >You drop your bow to your side and bow your head >You feel Anon gently take the cello and set it down >He wraps his arms around you, and you collapse against him >"Octavia... that was incredible," he says >He rubs the back of your head as he says this, and you let out a little moan, your thighs quaking >You knew he would love it >You always knew >Ever since the day you saw him, you knew >You knew he would love your music, and he would love you >This is all unfolding better than you could have possibly imagined >These wonderful feelings, the sensation of loving someone, of being loved... you never knew it was possible to feel this good >"You ok?" Anon asks, your tears having soaked his chest >You nod against him. "I'm... I'm wonderful. You're wonderful." >He says nothing, just holding you for a little while, before drawing back one of his hands to show you the parcel he brought >"I don't think I can top that," he says. "But I wanted to show you something." >You're surprised that the old phonograph is still in working condition >It had been a gift from your parents, when you were still a filly >Many a day had been spent enthralled by the sounds it made, the beautiful music >It had been your inspiration when you were young, driving you to pick up a bow and play >You wanted to make music just like what you heard on your parents' records >But as you began to realize that dream, you used the phonograph less and less, until you weren't using it at all >It had languished in a closet for years now, first in your apartment in Canterlot and now in your house in Ponyville >But now Anon had dragged it out and set the turntable spinning >It was still good to go, after all these years >Anon holds up his parcel, and from it takes out a record >"This is an old one," he says, as he puts it on the phonograph. "A little different from yours. But I think you'll like it." >When the needle hits the groove, the sound of an orchestra fills the room >You sit on your bed, resting against your oily, hair-covered sheets, listening >It's a symphony, opening with an orderly sonata, bright and highly refined >Beautiful stuff >But your focus is on Anon as the music progresses from movement to movement >He's standing angled away from you, his back exposed >You see the tension in him >The way his fists have curled up, as he stares at the slow-spinning record >Soon you see the tell-tale shaking in his shoulders, and the way his head moves to the side, to hide his tears >Instantly you are beside him, pressing your nose into his stomach reassuringly, curling around him >He places a hand on the top of your head, before sliding it down to rest on your neck >Looking up at him, seeing his set jaw and the squinting of his eyes, you suddenly feel very faint >You've never seen him this vulnerable before >You swallow hard as you realize that he's trusting you >He's showing you the part of him that he doesn't show anyone else >Trembling, you press into him, lifting a hoof to hold him around his waist, until the music stops >Anon switches off the phonograph >The two of you sit together on his bed >He lets you lay your head in his lap >You try, very hard, not to daydream about his penis, and the fact that it is inches from your mouth >Slowly, gently, he runs his fingers through your mane >He takes a shaky breath >"I never knew much about classical music, but my grandfather loved it," he says. "That's all I have left of him. Sorry you had to see that." >You kiss his thigh. "I love all the parts of you," you say. "You can show me any of them, and I will love them." >He laughs softly >"Octavia, how is that you can love me this much, when you hardly know me?" >You sit up in his lap, anger boiling in your blood >"I know a great deal about you," you say hotly. "I know that you are kind, and gentle, and loving toward even those who would use you." >"Octavia, I'm just a normal guy. I mean sure, I'm a human, but that just means I walk on two legs instead of four -" >You shove him against the wall, pinning your hooves to his shoulders. "Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I'm a fool, that I just picked the first male who happened to strike my fancy?" >You're shaking when you ask this >Anon is looking nervous again, but you have to keep going, for his own good >At the very least, you try to relax your face >"Anon," you say, your voice quavering, "before I met you, I wanted to die. There was nothing left for me in my life. But when I saw you - when I saw that you were full of color, full of life, I remembered just how much I still wanted to live for." >He is quiet now, his lips slightly parted, watching you now not with fear, but instead with... understanding >You feel very warm, all over >"Do you see now, why - why I love you?" you ask, pleading. "Why... why you should..." >You trail off, unable to finish >He speaks up before you burst into tears >"When I first came here, I didn't have anybody. I thought I was going to lose my mind. Everyone in town thought I was crazy. The only way I was able to get back on my feet, was when someone gave me a chance." >You quiver hard against him as his hands run up your back >He's looking up at you with his bright, beautiful eyes >"You're a good pony, Octavia," he says. "You deserve a chance." >You feel warm wetness on your cheeks, and your vision blurs >The words choke in your throat >There is nothing you can say to convey how you feel >There is only the tingling of your nerves, all over your body >The warmth of Anon, his breath on your face >And the deep, deep satisfaction of knowing that you've finally found Anon, and he's finally found you >You bury your face in his neck, and the two of you lie together on your bed, listening to the music of the wind and insects >Months pass >Anon has let you move in with him >You gave up the lease on your old place and took up residence in his living room >After a few days he'd introduced you to a local group, the Ponytones, who hired you on for some gigs >There are three whores and two bastards in it, but they're friends of Anon, so you tolerate them >You do odd gigs here and there for cash, playing for the cafe or for festivals and mayoral events >None of that matters to you much, though >The real pleasure comes from playing for Anon >He loves the music you write, and he loves the way you play >You spend your nights composing for him, and lately for yourself, too >There is little more satisfying than playing your cello outside in the evening, as the sun sets and the autumn leaves turn golden >Nothing beats being close to Anon, though >As the nights have grown chilly he's taken to letting you into his bed >You curl up against him and watch over him as he sleeps >Sometimes he catches you watching him, but he doesn't seem to mind >Over time you've come to realize the obsessive nature of your relationship with him, how one-sided it truly was at the start >But since then you've been able to show him who you really are >And you've seen aspects of Anon you were never even aware of >If theres anything that your time together has shown you, it's that you love him even more >You love the simple everyday things, waking up beside him, sitting quietly with him after he gets home from work, just being with him >You feel like you could do this always >But Anon... you're not so sure if he feels the same way >It took you a long time to accept that he doesn't love you in the same way that you love him >You still long to peel his clothes from his body, to nuzzle his balls and make him spurt his hot cum >You masturbate to the idea every day, often borrowing his underwear from the laundry while he's away at work >But as much as you want it to happen, that decision lies with both of you >So you wait, doing your best to provide as much pleasure for the one you love as you can, aching for the day that he lets you take him >One evening, after you've eaten and played a few songs for him, the two of you are sitting together on his couch >The same couch that he sat on when you watched him all those nights >You're both reading quietly, when suddenly he puts his arm around you and pulls you into his lap >Instantly you are wet, and you shiver as he runs his hand up your belly >"A-Anon...!" >He stops. "Should I… keep going?" >Your heart is hammering in your chest as you look up at him. You try to speak. "Y-Ye.. Ye.." >He lowers his face close to yours, breathing on your trembling mouth. "Is that a yes?" >Gulping, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his, shoving your tongue into his mouth >You haven't done this since that first night he let you inside >The two of you kiss, hard and wet, your tongues twining, saliva getting everywhere >His hands glide all over you, rubbing your neck, your shoulders, your flanks >A tendril of drool separates between you when you part >You want him, you NEED him more than anything you've ever needed, but you struggle to control yourself >"A-Are you sure you w-want this?" you stammer, barely able to get the words out >Anon looks into your eyes, his own gaze gentle and filled with kindness >"Octavia," he says. "I don't know if you realize this, but when we first met... I was lonely, too." >Your eyes are tearing up as you look up at him >You nod. "I - I know." >"We were both in a bad place. I didn't want that - I didn't want my mental state to affect my judgment. I wanted to see, for myself, if I could be with someone else." >You're scarcely breathing now, afraid to inhale, afraid to move, wanting it so, so badly >"Octavia... I want to be with you." >Tears blur your vision, and you let out some choked laughter >Pure, giddy elation drives you as you move up to kiss him, and he moves down to meet you >A moment later, he's seated and you're straddling his lap, as one hand squeezes your ass and the other ghosts up the small of your back >"I l-love y..ou.." you whisper, shivering from the tingle of pleasure up your spine >He puts his mouth right up to your ear. "I love you, too." >He kisses you deeply as his hand traces down the curve of your ass to rub up against your frantically winking slit >You gasp as his fingers briefly brush your clit, stroking at your vulva >You feel him kissing your neck, running his teeth over the skin, teasing you >Always a tease >Your hoof returns the favor, seeking the bulge in his pants, rubbing the swollen head >It throbs underhoof, pressing back, into the fabric >He unbuttons and allows you to pull the garments off >Anticipation fills you with incredible heat as your hoof slides under the waistband of his underwear >You're panting as you pull them off, your nose running but you hardly notice it >His cock jumps free of his clothes, erect and pulsing >It's more perfect than you imagined >You can hardly tear your eyes from it, until Anon is kissing you again, his hands lifting your hips >You lift your tail and wiggle into position, your eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking out the sides >You can hardly believe this is happening >"Please, p-pl..ease.." you whimper, your forelimbs wrapping around his neck >You can feel his warm breath on your ear, his nose in your mane >Slowly, he guides you down >You feel the head of his penis press right up against your clit, making you cry out >Then it's sinking into you, inch by inch, pressing into your virgin pussy >It feels hard, and hot, and incredibly wonderful >You feel the head rubbing against your swollen g-spot, each thrust sending pulses of deep, electrifying pleasure >You're drooling against him now, drunk on the smell of him, his moans, the feeling of his penis inside you >You feel one of his fingers brush against your asshole, before gently circling the rim >Loud, screaming moans escape you, your entire body shuddering, as the pleasure begins to overwhelm you >"Good girl," Anon says into your ear, before biting it >He's fucking you >So gently >He's lifting you up and down, your ass bouncing on his cock >One orgasm blurs into the next, a constant glow of love and bliss >You're murmuring incomprehensibly into Anon's neck when you suddenly feel it >The swelling of his cock, the sudden up-thrust of his hips >You gasp, looking up into his eyes, as he cums hard into you >You feel rope after rope of his hot sperm shoot into you, filling you with his seed >His thick cum coats your cervix, the walls of your pussy, and clings there, sticky and warm >Anon hugs you tightly, his face buried in your mane, his penis pulsing inside you >For a long time the two of you sit there on the couch, panting as you hold one another >He picks you up and takes you to the bedroom >His cock is already stiffening again >This time you put your hooves on his shoulders and push him down onto the sheets >The feeling of power is incredible >You make an about-face and stand over him, grinding your nethers into his face so that he can smell you >His cock is covered with his semen and your marecum >The smell of it is sweet, salty, and vaguely buttery >You kiss the head, wrapping your tongue around it before sucking it into your mouth >You feel Anon squirming beneath you, his hands on your belly, his tongue suckling your clit >His moans are the most beautiful song you've ever heard >You tease him for almost an hour, nuzzling his perfect cock, nosing down to his testicles to suck on his scrotum >Every time his balls tighten you pull back, drawing it out, eliciting long groans from Anon >When you finally decide that it's time, you move forward and sit, carefully, on his penis >Your asshole squeezes around his cock, milking it with its incredible tightness >You look over your shoulder to see Anon in the throes of pleasure, his hands shaking as they grab your ass >His hips jerk into you as he cums again, emptying himself into you >You relish the feeling of his semen dripping from your asshole after he pulls out >You crawl up beside him and kiss him, letting him taste the residue of marecum and sperm that you licked off his cock >He whispers to you how much he loves you, holding you tightly >You hum softly, watching as his eyelids flutter, and he slowly drifts off into slumber >The night will be long >You begin to hum the symphony's second movement, as you settle in to watch over Anon. >Your endless vigil, of love. --