”You realise what you did, when you placed your hand on my hoof?” Lemon enquired in a curious manner, emotions slipping through.
“Uh, didn't it feel good?” I responded, taken aback.
I had expected it to feel the way it would, as I had a hand on hers, to her as well. I had felt very differently myself, the curiously turning into excitement. Not just knowing how the hoof felt under the touch of my fingers, but the connection, it was stronger than I had dared hope, if it had been what I was hoping. Some confusion prevented me from realisation, right now. Maybe it is irrelevant. I still feel, what I feel.
Feeling the rubbery hoof tickled my senses, more than it teased my fingers. Yet, the reaction had been elicited initially, and it stuck to me, refused to let go. Not that I really refused it? It feels good, so my fingers lingered.
Just the perfect smoothness, the elasticity of it all. I felt a blush heating my cheeks, even if it probably wasn't visible just yet, or was it? I refused to consider. Does an equine actually blush visibly anyway?
“Maybe?” I just uttered in a slight and increasing slur at the very end.
There was something more, and I wanted it. I knew it, and now I was bound to ask, unless she did the next move? Would she, or would she feel differently? I did not want to think this through, not follow the thought to the conclusion that could be there?
Since she had no hands, just hooves, she couldn't make me feel how she felt. Even if I have my very own hind hooves, imagining they were the same, just larger, for the obvious reason.
Ofhorse I have a mane of my own, but what's the excitement about it? It's a part of me, no more, and no less. I like how it looks, and it doesn't feel wrong touching it. The point is, I like myself. I guess I have always liked myself. Just that I can love someone else, in this case, this would be Lemon, by the looks of it.
I moved slower and she responded in kind, rather than absently staying in the spot she was, or moving away. Even if she may have invited me in the first place? I guess I couldn't deny it. Just that the reaction only pulled me even closer. How was I to react on it? On the other rubbery hoof, from my current situation, as the equine I am now, there is but the one reaction, was this why she had moved closer? She had indicated that I'm not moving in the wrong direction.
Naturally, I could react, only in the one way. What's the point of denying it, or myself? To protect her against the truth? There is no point.
I lifted the free hand up towards her face, slowly placing it between her ears, on the top of her head, only to have her ears perk up. That's a positive yes. It is the only way I could see.
What I feel is the silken hair of her mane under my fingers, just what I had hoped for, but it still sent a slight shiver down my spine in anticipation.
This is about the time she slowly started to pull closer, in a kiss. I couldn't deny I was enjoying it. Slowly putting my hands on her cheeks, as I was returning the kiss, feeling warmth seeping, then she placed her free hoof on my chest, teasing the lower rim, just under the right jiglie. From there she moved her hoof up, upwards along my rubbery flesh, in an ever more teasing manner.
Ofhorse I knew where her hoof was about to end up, still waiting for it, just to see how it would feel. I never had had it touched. Not here, and not as pony.