> Sweet Little Visits > by Crimson Soldier > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Not Her First Rodeo > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ponies are so trusting. Under the guise of friendship, you can pretty much get away with anything. When Sweetie Belle started spending a lot of time at my place, nopony even batted an eye. Not even when she started asking for sleep-overs. Ponies are so damn trusting. At the moment, she's laying on my chest, lips pressed against mine in a sloppy but passionate kiss. She's learning fast, but I'm in no rush for her to become an expert. To be honest, I kind of like the inexperienced way she handles sexy time. I think it’s because it reminds me of how wrong this all is, and that, in turn, excites me. I let her explore the inside of my mouth, which she does with an energy and curiosity only a filly could possess. My hands grope at her warm, pillowy backside. As I squeeze and pinch, a stray finger might slide a little lower every now and then, prodding at one of her entrances, keeping her excited and reminding her of what's coming. My cock twitches as if for emphasis as it's grazed by a neatly trimmed fetlock. Finally, that hot little tongue pulls away from my mouth, though her lips linger for just a moment longer, as if they’re reluctant to break contact. When she finally does fall back, Sweetie's cheeks wear a rosy red blush, and her mouth is twisted into an adorably goofy expression. Sweetie tends to make that face when she’s ready for penetration, as if she’s mentally preparing herself for me. Little things like that are exactly what I love about her. “Um, Anon, Are we gonna..?” Sweetie’s voice brings me back to reality as I realize that I had just been staring at her for a while. Rather than answer, I give her a wicked grin, booping her nose with my own. Then, wrapping my arms around her in order to keep her steady, I bring myself to a seated position with Sweetie poised just above my eager cock. Our eyes lock and Sweetie makes that cute face again. Without further ado, I give her what she wants. I lower her down so I’m pressed against her entrance, and then, moving down further, I let my length slowly slide into her. Sweetie bites her bottom lip as she stretches to fit me inside. She doesn't hold back a melodic, satisfied hum when I bottom out. Interesting fact about ponies: stallions tend to have really big cocks. Okay, I know this probably seems like it came out of nowhere, especially while you're trying to think about tight filly pussy, but hear me out. The average pony cock is just a little over three times larger than that of a human's at adulthood, even though a fully grown mare only has about two-thirds the body mass of a human woman. So, why does this matter? It matters because this means that a mare's vagina is pretty fucking versatile. Even a little filly like Sweetie Belle, who stands just past my knee and is maybe half my size standing on her hind legs, is able to completely fit my slightly-larger-than-average (for a human) pecker inside of her with no pain at all, while still being tighter than hell. Blew my fucking mind the first time, and it never gets old. As is our tradition, Sweetie takes a few moments to get comfortable, and I wait for her to make the first move. She tends to need a bit of time to get used to my cock before she starts to really get into it, and I’m perfectly okay with that. Watching her squirm and adjust herself with a scrunched up face as though she’s testing out a new seat is actually kind of hot. I can feel the gentle pulsing of her heartbeat on my cock as she gets herself into place; my own heart starts to beat faster in response. Despite how often we’ve done this, there’s always something so special about fucking my little filly that makes it feel new and exciting every time despite going through all the same motions. Once she’s satisfied with her position, she smiles sweetly up at me. “How far in do you think you went, Anon?” This question is another cute little ritual of hers. First time I bottomed out in her, I made a big deal about how impossibly far in I'd managed to get. It must have made an impression on her young mind because now she asks me every single time. “Right about... here!” I say, poking her belly somewhere just above her bellybutton and causing her to giggle. The sensation of her moving body is phenomenal while I’m buried inside of her. She begins to rock into my pelvis then, and at long last, we’re fucking in earnest. I let her control the momentum of our thrusts, starting off slow. She slides about halfway up my length and back down, punctuating each new insertion with a soft little grunt. She likes to do most of the work, but I do help her along, lifting her butt a little each time she pulls out before thrusting back in. I can see both in her expression and the acceleration of her movements that her pleasure is starting to build. She always bites her lip when she starts getting serious, which is my cue to pull out a little farther and push back in a little harder. I can feel her heartbeat getting faster, and that only spurs me on. Soon, we’re in full swing. I pull out almost all the way now before each new thrust, and her eyes close tightly in anticipation of her climax. Her cute little grunts become sharper and more urgent, and her whole body begins to quiver. When the already snug walls of her little pussy begin to tighten, I leaned forward and lock lips with her as her orgasm begins to overtake her. She squeals into my mouth as pleasure shoots through her body. The feeling of her tightening walls and the rush of filly cum are what bring my own orgasm to fruition. For a while, we just ride out our ecstasy, clutched tightly in each other's arms, my cock still spurting deep inside her. Eventually, of course, the pleasure subsides, but we continue to hold each other like that just because we like each other; post-coitus cuddles are important, after all. As we lie there, I stroke her mane and think about how banal life in Equestria could have been if we hadn't started hooking up. Any reservations I might have once had about sleeping with a literal horse child have long ago disappeared; replaced instead with a deep feeling of general 'rightness' whenever we’re together. The rational part of my brain knows that these emotions exist mostly to justify my actions, but honestly, that part of my brain’s a buzzkill. Our relationship moved past lust some time ago. What I feel for Sweetie Belle is definitely Love, with a capital L and everything. I don't care that most ponies think it’s totally wrong for an adult to be in love with a foal, because for the first time in a really long time, I feel complete. Sweetie Belle and I are in love, and I’ll be damned if I let anypony get in the way of that. > Bathtime is Innocent > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- After sexytime always comes bathtime. Look, I know what you perverts are thinking, but you can put your dicks away for now. Take a break for a moment, maybe re-read the first chapter if you’ve really gotta rub one out right away. That’s what it’s there for, after all - to set the mood before the fluff dump. But don’t worry, there’s still gonna be some sweet sweet filly sex in your near future, so just hold tight. As I was saying, after sexytime comes bathtime. Bathtime is important for a number of reasons - the most obvious being that if Sweetie Belle was to come home reeking of mare cum and dripping with my dude juices, well, I’m pretty sure even the ever-trusting ponies of Ponyville would start to notice. Taking a quick bath is a good way to wash away the evidence, which we both agree is a good thing overall. There is a second, more subtle reason for bath time, however. One which is rarely spoken of, but just as important. I call it ‘Filly Time.’ Filly time is, quite simply, time dedicated to Sweetie Belle just acting like a filly. I’ve been laying here on my bed all alone for a few minutes now, letting my mind wander into rather frightening territory. Thoughts like “Is this okay?” and “Am I fucking her life up?” swirl in my conscious mind as the post-coitus glow and horny fog clear away, making way for more rational thought. Well, semi-rational. Guilt tends to settle in when libido takes a hike, and guilt has a funny way of being just as self destructive. I need a distraction, and it comes in the form of running water from my bathroom. I chase the guilt away as I set about a new task, pulling on a pair of sweats and a slightly worn wife-beater - clothes I don’t mind getting wet - and make my way into the bathroom. Sweetie is busy adjusting the water and adding her various products to the luke-warm stew. Knobs turn and bottles fly through the air, all wrapped up in that familiar lime-green aura that is Sweetie’s special brand of magic, almost as unique to her as the stamp on her butt. “You’re getting better at that,” I compliment as I take note of the number of objects being manipulated at a time. It wasn’t all that long ago that even basic telekinesis was a struggle for the young unicorn. “Thanks! Rarity’s been teaching me how to multitask.” She doesn't look back from what she’s doing, but I can hear the pride in her voice, and it makes me smile. Once Sweetie is satisfied with the bubbly concoction, she turns to beam at me. My bathtub is specially made for a human (which cost me a small fortune, by the way) which means it’s hard for a filly like Sweetie to climb inside on her own, but with a bit of struggling and only a tiny bit of help from me, she manages to plop herself into the water with a splash and an “oof!” “Heh, nice one,” I joke as a bubble-clad head emerges from the fragrant waters, but my brevity is not without consequence. When a mischievous grin crosses Sweetie Belle’s face, I realize that I’m in trouble. “Hah, take this!” Sweetie cries as a glowing green ball of bubbles comes flying at me from the tub. I throw my hands up to defend myself, but it’s no use; the amorphous blob squishes undeterred past my barrier and splats into my face! “Gack! Hey, no fair!” I sputter as I wipe soap from my eyes. “Magic is cheating!” Sweetie ignores me, as she’s too busy pointing a hoof and laughing. “Nice beard, Anon!” she manages to spout through her peals of childish laughter. “I’ll have you know,” I offer, once she’s calmed down a bit, “that in the Bubble Kingdom, we take our beards quite seriously.” I give my bubble beard a very gentlemanly stroke, which of course causes it to break apart in my hands, eliciting a chortle from the filly in the tub. “Here,” I say, flashing an evil grin, “Why don’t you try one on!” Before Sweetie can react, I scoop up two big handfuls of bubbles and mush them in Sweetie’s face! Heh, revenge is sweet. Sweetie wipes the bubbles from her eyes, leaving a nice bubbly strap upon her chin. “My god,” I declare, procuring the small hand mirror Sweetie brought with her and allowing her to see my handiwork. “It’s... magnificent!” Sweetie snorts again at her own reflection. “I must say, my good sir, I think you’re onto something!” For the next ten minutes or so, we play in the bubbles together, laughing and forming our bubble beards into various amusing shapes. Thanks to her magic, some of the beards we’re able to make are absolutely ludicrous, like long, twirly mustaches and magnificent braided dwarf beards (of course I’d told Sweetie all about the classic Earth tales of the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings, albeit a highly abridged and probably bastardized version). Eventually, of course, the bubbles start to fade, until all that remains is a sudsy residue on the water. It’s time to get cleaning! Don’t you dare tell anypony this, but I actually really enjoy helping Sweetie wash up. My eyes scan the myriad of bottles and lotions that have started lining the shelves in my bathroom ever since Sweetie started coming around, but I honestly still can’t make heads or tails of what’s what. My own simple brand of shampoo, amusingly called ‘head and haunches’, stands out from the colorful bottles almost as much as a... well, a human buying shampoo in a crowded pony market. I grab a bottle of pink-smelling liquid from the bunch which I think I remember using last time, and show it to Sweetie for verification. Sweetie just rolls her pretty green eyes at me and levitates another, nearly identical bottle from the shelf. I smile, snatching the new bottle out of the air and opening it, giving it a whiff. “You have to start with the de-tangler, Anon. Otherwise you’re gonna yank on my mane and tail again!” The first time I’d tried to help Sweetie Belle bathe had been... something of a disaster. I vaguely remembered her explaining how the de-tangler was used first to magically de-tangle manes and tails for ‘ouch-less’ cleaning, and a quick look at the label reminds me of as much. I squirt some into my hand, and the stuff immediately begins to glow and sparkle - a cheap spell to keep foals entertained in the bath, no doubt, but I must admit it works on displaced humans, too. I immediately begin to lather the substance into Sweetie’s mane, and true to it’s tagline, what few tangles there were seem to melt away. Once her mane is de-tangled and rinsed, I do the same for her tail, carefully but easily working out all the knots and tangles and rinsing it off in preparation for the next step. After the de-tangler (with twenty-four hour anti-tangle protection!) comes the shampoo, and after that, conditioner. Now, I know full well that Sweetie is capable of doing all of this herself, but she enjoys the feeling of my fingers lathering the soap in her mane, and like I said before, I enjoy it, too. There’s something uniquely wholesome about the entire experience, and it feels good to treat Sweetie Belle like the child she still is. Which leads me to the point of this entire bath-scene. I’m sorry if you were hoping for another quick clop and ended up with some sappy slice of life crap instead, but it’s important to me that you understand that there’s more to my relationship with Sweetie than sex. I mean, the sex is great, don’t get me wrong. But, in a lot of ways, it’s also the one part of our relationship that I kind of regret. Sweetie Belle is, after all, a foal. She’s a child, and it’s important to me that she get’s to actually be a child. Sex is a very adult activity, and in the beginning, I was worried that if our relationship focused exclusively on sex, it would force her to experience her childhood from a more adult perspective. I did not, and still do not, want her to grow up missing an important part of her childhood, all because of me. Foalhood, whatever, you know what I mean. In order to avoid ruining her adolescent years, I make sure that whenever we hang out together, we always balance the sex with more wholesome, normal activities. That’s why bathtime and sexytime never, ever mix. When I’m finished with her mane and tail, I let her take care of her coat on her own, letting her take care of her bodily hygiene with some humility and privacy. I won’t pretend that the idea never occurred to me that bath sex could be something great. How much fun would it be to rub one out of her while washing her naughty bits? Or to run my soapy hands over her damp coat, smoothly caressing her warm, wet little body as she shivers and moans in anticipation... Ahem. As I was saying, it’s not like I never think about it. I do. A lot. But I resist the temptation, because for me, the purity of bathtime is sacred, and an important part of the time we spend together. If I am to ever corrupt bathtime, I might start a precedent where sex becomes omnipresent in our lives, and if I ever allowed that to happen, I would have to make a very difficult choice between my relationship with Sweetie Belle, and Sweetie Belle’s childhood developing without me. That thought scares the shit out of me, even more than being caught and sent to the moon, or whatever happens to pedophiles in pony land. Now, Sweetie is all cleaned up and climbing out of the bath, and I’m helping her towel off. Unlike her older sister, Sweetie’s mane and tail actually require very little work, inflating into that natural, pretty poof with little more than a brush and a drier. With Sweetie Belle all cleaned up and with no sign left of our carnal activities, I change out of my soaked clothing and we make our way to my living room where I help her with her homework, play a few board games with her, and eventually walk her home to her parents house, all without ever once mentioning sex. As I make my way back home through the darkening streets of Ponyville, my mind begins to wander again, but this time, it’s a little more at peace. I still don’t know if what we’re doing is okay, or if I’m just being selfish by allowing this relationship to continue. But, at least, she seems happy, and for now, that’s good enough. > The All-knowing Sister > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Okay, real talk? Rarity scares the crap out of me. And not just because I like to put my dick inside her underage sister, although that’s certainly part of it. I think what scares me the most about Rarity is the way she looks at you, half grinning, one eyebrow raised, like she’s in on some great secret, and she could end up bringing your entire world crashing down on you with a single, well chosen word... but she doesn’t. Not today, but maybe tomorrow? Next week? Next year?!? Jesus fucking Christ, Rarity, just get it over with!  Or, maybe it is just because I like to stick my dick in her underage sister. Maybe I’m just paranoid. That’s got to be it, right? Because if she knew, I’d already be dead. Right? She wouldn't just... know about it, and not say anything, and keep shooting me that horrible, passive-aggressive, single-eyebrowed half-grin and oh fuck she’s doing it again, right now. Why am I even here? When Rarity invited me over to the Boutique for tea and biscuits, I should have declined. Being around her always makes me nervous, and being around her and Sweetie Belle at the same time makes me want to barf. But Sweetie asked me to come. Begged me, even when I’d said no the first ten times. And how can I say no to Sweetie Belle eleven times in a row? Have you seen her? That filly knows how to weaponize cuteness. I bet she learned that from Rarity. Besides. As stated previously, I like to put my penis in her. I kind of owe her. My little ‘Belle is actually being pretty cute right now, too. Look at her, sipping her tea, eating those little jam-filled cookies the Brits (and the ponies, it seems) like to call Jammie Dodgers, entirely oblivious to my pain. Talking about her day, and her latest crusade with her friends, and her fucking sister is giving me that look again. I’m trying to smile, trying to be present in the conversation, engaging in Sweetie’s story, trying not to think of the taste of her filly cum, or the way she squirms when I lick her little sex tag, and oh god why won’t Rarity just look somewhere, anywhere else! “Oh, darling, what a wonderful adventure!” Oh... Sweetie must have finished her story. “Although I daresay, I really can’t approve of you and your little friends rolling about in the mud. And how, if I might ask, did you avoid sloping that muck all over my Boutique afterwards?” I’m shaking my head, but but it doesn't look like Sweetie got the memo. “I stopped at Anon’s for a bath!” The look on Sweetie’s face almost makes it worth my impending doom. But hey, look, Rarity’s making a face, too. And it’s That face again. Super. “Well, Anon, I really can’t stress enough how happy I am that you and Sweetie Belle have become such fast friends! Why, if she had come back here, slopping all over my Carousel Boutique, I would have had to skin her pretty little hide!” Okay Anon, easy. Smile and laugh. Just like that. See? Even Sweetie’s laughing. Don’t acknowledge the threat, be cool. “Well, your sister’s a pretty cool kid! Foal. Filly. One of those.” Cough. Blush. So smooth. Drink your tea Anon. Pretend they aren’t both staring at you. Change the subject. “So... how’s business?” Yeah. Smooth as fuck. “Oh, it’s actually been a bit slow, darling. To be frank, as much as I love Ponyville and all my friends here, the general population does seem to be a bit... lacking, fashion wise. With only a few exceptions, of course, it’s hard to sell high-end clothing in a town where everypony prefers to be... how should I put it?” “Nude?” Technically, both of them are nude right now, by human standards, each of them wearing nothing more then their cute, matching sun hats with their feathery plumes. Pink for Rarity, purple for Sweetie. Matching eachother's manes; it's actually kind of sweet. It’s one thing to say that Sweetie Belle looks up to her big sister, another to see it in action. Just a reminder of how much it means to her that Rarity and I become friends. I just wish Rarity wouldn’t make it so hard.  “Well, not the word I was going to use, but accurate, nonetheless.” Sweetie is giving me a dirty look now. The kind of look that says not that you mind, with her tongue out and everything. It’s a good thing Rarity is too busy dramatically drinking her tea and fanning herself to notice. “Sometimes I wish I had done it all differently. Perhaps moved to Canterlot, or Manehattan, or even Prance, setting up my Boutique and sharing my art with ponies who actually have a shred or two of fashion sense!” More dramatics as Rarity falls back into her chair as if she’s completely exasperated. Sweetie Belle is giggling into her hoof, miming her older sisters antics, and for the first time since I came here I have a genuine smile on my face. Hmm... Rarity hasn’t moved in a while... but... is she watching me from under her eyelids? She totally is! Am I expected to say something? Sweetie is nodding yes. Alright then. “So uh... why don’t you? Open a shop somewhere a bit more fashion-forward? It’s not too late.” “Oh, I’ve thought about that, believe me!" She's up again as if nothing had even happened. "I’ve even been considering packing my bags and setting up shop in Manehattan, I can already picture that lovely little shop in my mind! But... But I would never dream about leaving Ponyville.” I thought that was exactly what she was doing, but I better keep my mouth shut. “No, no, my life, and my friends, are all here. And besides. Who would take care of my darling Sweetie Belle? What if somepony took advantage of her in my absence? I could never live with myself if I allowed somepony to hurt my dear, sweet, innocent little sister.” Gulp. There’s that look again. I fucking knew it! She does know something! She has to! And she’s just sitting there! Looking at me with that damned half grin and raised eyebrow. “But Rarity, I have plenty of ponies to take care of me! I have Mom and Dad, and the crusaders, and Anon! Anon’s big and strong, I’m sure he would take really good care of me!” Easy. Don’t spit out your coffee. Just smile at the filly. Wait, what’s with that look? She’s got the same passive aggressive grin as her sister! She knows exactly what she’s doing, doesn’t she? Now she’s winking at me. Is this funny to her? Quick, say something! “Yeah, what can I say? I guess I just really like fillies.” Fuck. “I mean, your little sister!” Fuck. “I mean, as a friend. Of course.” Fuck fuck fuck. I hope you get a good laugh out of this, you sexy little rascal. “Oh... I’m certain anypony would be in good hooves with you, Anon.” That god damned grin is gonna haunt my nightmares. And what’s with that tone of voice? Is she fucking with me? Does she know what her sister and I are doing behind closed doors, and now she’s choosing to torture me with it?  This is almost more than I can take. I need air. I need out. When did I stand up? It must have happened fast, because my knee hurts and the teapot has conspicuously crashed to the floor. Oh well. “Hey, wow, you know, I just remembered that I have something really important I need to take care of. Outside. Of here.” They’re both staring at me, shocked. Actually, Sweetie Belle looks kind of upset.  “But... but Anon, you just got here!” she’s saying, and there’s a touch of a whine to her voice. “Sweetie, Darling. If Anon doesn’t want to be here, then he doesn’t want to be here. We shan’t keep him from his... important business.” Great, now she looks upset, too. I want to shout at her. This is your fault! Instead I’m forcing a smile. “Thank you both for inviting me, the tea was... just great. Um... bye.” And now, somehow, I’m already out the door. I did get a good look at Sweetie’s face before I left, of course, and she looked hurt. Somehow, I doubt that I was fooling anyone about my really important... whatever. I’ll have to apologize to her first chance I get. I'm glad I live close by - all I want to do it flop down into my bet and lay there until the guards inevitably come for me. “Anon! Anon, wait!” I should have known Sweetie would chase after me. I can’t even look back, and it’s breaking my heart. But I don’t need to. She’s wedged herself between me and my front door, and she looks pissed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her mad before. Her face is all scrunched up and scowling, and there’s a bunch of tears in her eyes. She's super cute, even when she's angry, but I guess context matters. Seeing her like this really hurts, especially since I know it's my fault. “Anon... you ruined it!” She’s up on her hind legs, and that kick actually kind of hurt. “Sweetie, I -” “Don’t say you're sorry! I love you, Anon, and I just wanted you and my sister to be friends! Was that really so hard?” “Honestly... yeah!” I’m raising my voice. That’s not fair, but I can’t help it. “Sweetie... What were you doing, flirting with me? Right in front of Rarity?” “I wasn’t... I was just messing around! And I meant what I said! You would take good care of me! I know you would! That’s no reason to be a jerk!” “I’m the jerk? Sweetie, do you know what was even happening back there?” Is anyone watching? No? Good. looks confused, I better explain. “Sweetie Belle... Rarity knows. About us. About our... visits.” I said it as softly as I could, to soften the blow. “What? No she doesn’t.” Oh, poor, innocent, naive Sweetie Belle. How can I explain? I’ll start by crouching down, so I’m at her level. Which is hard to do, because she’s kinda short. I’m glad she’s standing on my front steps. “Sweetie... she might not know everything, but she knows something is going on between us. She practically said so! All that talk about protecting you from bad ponies taking advantage of you? She was talking about me, Sweetie. I’m the bad pony taking advantage of you!” “Anon... you’re not a pony.” It’s amazing how a child can say something so matter-of-fact that it makes you feel dumb. “Sweetie, that’s not the point. What I’m saying is that she said it to make me uncomfortable. Because she knows.” She’s quiet now. Thinking. Good. I hope she finally understands. “You’re a big, paranoid dummy, Anon.”  I’m at a loss for words.  “Sweetie... I... Look, she had to know! Did you see the way she was looking at me? And the things she was saying... she was trying to torture me!” What’s with that face? She’s looking at me like I’m the dumbest guy alive! “Anon... you might be the dumbest guy alive.” “Hey... what?” “Rarity wasn’t trying to torture you. She was flirting with you.” Okay, now I really am speechless. Flirting? I picturing that look she kept giving me. That all-knowing look. But, you know, the more I think about it... it was kind of on the seductive side. “Okay, but what about all that stuff she said, about you being innocent, and getting taken advantage of -” “She always talks like that, Anon. She was just being Dramatic. She does that.” “Okay, fair point, but then she said, ‘oh Anon, I bet you would take such good care of my little sister!’ What was that all about?” I like to think my Rarity impression was on-point. Sweetie seems less impressed. “Still flirting! Are all human guys this dense? She was saying that she trusts you with me. She was implying that, if you dated her, she trusted you to take good care of me! She told me so herself! She has a crush on you, Anon!” “Oh.” When did I sit down? It must have happened fast, because my butt hurts. And her forelegs are around me now, hugging me. What can I do, except hug her back? “I really am a big, paranoid dummy, huh? Rarity has a crush on me? Why?” Sweetie's mane is so soft, and always seems to smell like vanilla and strawberries. Just holding her and stroking her mane feels... really nice. Now her lips are pressed against mine. Kissing her feels even nicer - but we are technically out in public, and we did kind of just make a scene, so we should probably make it quick. God, at times like these, I really wish we could just... be together. “Probably because you’re sweet." Kiss. "And handsome." Kiss. "And good with foals.” Kiss. I'm a sucker for sweet talk. Another little peck on the cheek, for good measure, probably won’t hurt. “A little too good with foals, some might say.” Another peck, another cheek, and there’s that smile I was hoping for. “Did you really think that if Rara knew about us, she would invite you over for tea? Just to gloat?” Her laughter is so sweet - her parents named her well. “Well, maybe she would! That does sound like a Rarity thing to do!” Now we're both laughing. God, that feels good. I was so nervous... hell, I’m always nervous when it comes to Sweetie Belle. Sometimes I feel like I’m walking a tightrope, and any wrong step will send me tumbling to the ground... but with this sweet angel waiting on the other side, how could I fall? Oops, my tongue’s in her mouth. And my hands... well, my hands are going south for the winter. Easy now. you're still in public. Just one finger, to see if she’s wet... and, she is. Cool. Her rump is so soft, and I bet that she’s good and warm inside. It would be a shame not to check, just in case. “Ah! Anon!” That’s my girl, but don’t stop kissing me. Turn that pleasure into passion, you know how. And maybe I’ll give that magical little button a rub. Just a poke, the way she likes it. And she does like it, if that squeaky little hum is any indication. I should probably make sure we’re still alone. Yup, the coast is clear. I think this calls for another finger, and Sweetie agrees. In, and out, nice and slow. You have to take it slow with a pony like Sweetie Belle, or you’ll miss out on all her little gasps and wiggles, and that’s the best part. In again, all the way to my knuckle. She’s got plenty of room. See chapter one, I went over that already. And out again. And don’t forget about the clitoris. Just a little poke and a resulting squeak. I would really like to make love to her now, feel those silky, hot walls hugging my poor, neglected dick - but now really isn’t the time or place. That’s okay. I’ll content myself with my fingers for now. She certainly doesn’t mind. We’re not kissing anymore - she has trouble concentrating when she’s getting close, and judging by her face, she’s close, all right. Eyes closed, face all flush and scrunched up, mouth slightly ajar... and the sounds. Oh god, the sounds she makes. I wish you could hear it for yourself, I swear there’s nothing sweeter than the sounds my filly makes when she’s about to come. Well, other than the sounds she makes when she actually does come. Her eyes are open now, big, stunningly green cartoon eyes staring directly into mine. She always looks me in the eye when she comes, and says my name, right before it happens. “A-anon...” There it is. Tweak that magic little button one last time, and watch her shake and twitch and sing as I blow her little mind, like some kind of squishy instrument making the best music there is. And kiss her, quick, ‘cuz somepony’s gonna hear her, and I’m not keen on sharing. It’s over now, and she’s smiling at me. I don’t know when I put my fingers in my mouth, but It must have happened fast, because the sweet taste of salt and vanilla is already on my tongue. I wonder, do all fillies taste like candy down there? “Really, Anon? On the doorstep? In front of everypony?” I give her a kiss, as brazenly as I can. “I don’t see anypony. And you didn’t seem to mind.” Our foreheads are touching, our lips less than an inch apart. I can feel her breath on my face, and all I can see are those big, beautiful eyes. I’ve also got a massive erection and a bad case of blueballs, but them's the breaks. “Rarity’s going to wonder where I am, Anon. She might come looking.” Oh. Right. Rarity. The all-knowing sister, who apparently thinks I’m cute. “How do you think I should let her down?” I keep my tone coy. “Well, you could knock over her tea set and run from the Boutique like a crazy pony.” “Hmm... no, that won’t work. I’m not a pony.” She’s giggling. I know how my filly works. “Seriously though, you should apologize. She was almost as upset as I was.” Sweetie’s right, of course. I never meant to hurt anypony’s feelings, and the last thing I want is for Rarity to come between Sweetie Belle and I. I'm carrying her in my arms, taking her back to the Boutique. And look, she left a little stain on my doorstep. I kind of hope it never washes off. ~~~~~ I would tell you more about what happened next, about me apologizing for the misunderstanding, and having a good laugh, and very specifically not telling Rarity how I just finished finger-blasting her underage sister. But to be honest? It isn’t very interesting, so I’ll just give you the Tl:Dr version. I’m dating Rarity now, and it’s exactly as awkward as it sounds. Just kidding. I let her down easy. I told her I’m not looking for a relationship right now, yada yada, I hope we can still be friends. And that’s it. No more funny looks, and I’m not paranoid about what she does or doesn’t know any more. She’s actually quiet pleasant now that I don’t think she’s going to murder me. I mean, could you imagine? How would that even work? I'm not just fucking her underage sister... I'm in love with her. Yeah, like, lovey dovey, special somepony, hearts in our eyes love. The real shit. I would never risk all that by playing date night with Rarity. We're just gonna keep things simple. We're going to keep up her little visits, and our sexy time, followed by bath time, and maybe one day I can be With Sweetie Belle for real. You know, when that whole underage thing stops being a problem. I'm sure ponies will start asking questions when that happens, but I won't worry about that today. Today, I'm going to drink my tea, and eat my Jammie Dodgers, and explain to Rarity that I don't know the difference between a shirt and a blouse. Meanwhile, me and Sweetie Belle are still fucking like teenagers in a college fling. So that's nice.