Some sights never get old. Some ponies love looking at the sky, looking for constellations they know will be there. Others love the sunrise; still others the sunset. Some love the waves of the sea. Others love the green fields that grow every year.
Vinyl’s new favorite sight that would never get old to her was the sight of Octavia, in her recording booth, playing her cello, wearing only her practice pants and her favorite pink bow tie. It had gotten even better when Octavia had given Vinyl explicit permission (if not instructions) to touch herself if she needed to.
Vinyl sighed and wiped her hands off on a nearby towel. “Best birthday present ever,” she said with a grin as she reached over to turn off her recording equipment.
She paused as a red light appeared. Shouldn’t that red light have come on earli-?
Oh no.
She switched to her headphones and rewound the tape, and confirmed what she already knew. She chuckled nervously and pushed the microphone button again. “Hey, funny story. I… kindof forgot to press record,” she confessed.
Octavia blinked. She set her cello down and poked her head out of the door. “How do you forget that?” she asked.
“I was a little distracted, ok?” Vinyl said, a bit more defensively than she meant to. “Kindof hard not to be.” Her eyes drifted across Octavia’s body again, and a little smile crossed her face again.
Octavia looked down at her bare breasts, then back up at Vinyl, and made a noncommittal shrug. It was nice to have a partner who actually appreciated what she brought to the table.
“Besides, there are some other buttons I'd rather be pressing.”
Vinyl gasped as she realized she'd said her inside thing outside yet again. She cringed and hid her face, but she had to look up when something cloth hit her in the face. She moved it aside to see.
They were Octavia’s pants; she had dropped them and kicked them off. Now completely naked, she winked at Vinyl, then made a ‘come hither’ gesture with one finger as she daintily stepped back inside the sound booth.
Vinyl grinned and began undoing the zipper on her jacket as she hurriedly followed her and shut the door behind her.
* * *
Lyra carried her lyre into the recording room, and Bon Bon followed close behind.
“I'm still not sure I get all this,” Bon Bon admitted. “It looks like a spiderweb of wires in here.”
“It's fairly simple,” Lyra shrugged. “Put these headphones on, adjust this gain knob right here, and when it sounds good, hit record.”
“Which one's that?”
“That one. Just let me get a... hey...” Lyra suddenly noticed that the recording deck had a disc in it already. A devious grin flickered across her face. “Want to hear Vinyl's newest record, pre-release?”
Bon Bon shrugged and pulled on a pair of headphones. Her expression turned confused, and then bemused.
“What?”
In answer, Bon Bon held the headphones out. Lyra put them on, and...
She tore them off and tossed them on the table. “Holy cow, they made a sex tape,” Lyra breathed.
Bon Bon laughed.
“Yeah, that would be silly, wouldn't it?” Lyra said. “I mean, it's not like we would ever do such a thing.”
“Not at all.”
“It would be crude, and kindof silly.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean, it's not like we need one. I've got the real you and that's so much better.”
“You're better than any recording, Lyra,” Bon Bon agreed.
There was a pause.
“Maybe it's not so disgusting,” Lyra offered.
“Might be fun,” Bon Bon said grudgingly.
Lyra looked over and pulled her best puppy dog eyes.
Bon Bon sighed. “Fine... I'll go get the whipped cream.”
“Yay!” Lyra cheered.