Sensation (SFW Version)

by Vivid Syntax

Chapter 4 - Gettin' Some

"Oh… Oh, baby. Mmm… yeah…" My lip quivered. My spine tingled. I tilted my head back, closed my eyes, and felt dizzy. My knees shook, and a little drool slid out of the corner of my mouth. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so good. "Oh, dude. That's amazing."

Braeburn chuckled coyly. "Well," he cooed, smiling at me. "Glad I haven't lost my touch. Ready for more?"

I panted and tilted my head to look at this stallion – no, this master – who knew how to please me more than any pony I'd ever met before. My mouth curved in a devilish smile. "Braeburn, don't you even think of stopping. I could go like this for hours."

"Yes, sir!" Braeburn hooves moved up and down even faster, and honestly, I didn't think I could hold out much longer. "Don't think I've ever met a stallion as excitable as you."

I took deep breaths. "You kidding?" I wiped away the drool. "This is the best I've ever had!"

"Aw, if you think that's sweet, you ain't seen nothin' yet. I call this little number the Two-Apple Twirl."

I whimpered, and I thought I was going to burst right there.

Braeburn smiled. "It's made with Red and Golden Delicious!" He continued fanning the pie on the windowsill. The sweet, tart smell wafted over to my nose and made my head woozy. "Should be just about cool enough, I hope. Hoo, my fetlocks are tired."

I tapped my hoof on the hardwood table, ready for another slice. That first pie had been the tastiest thing I'd ever had, even though it had been a day old and Braeburn had insisted it was hardly any good anymore. Once I'd taken the first bite, I'd immediately devoured the rest, trying to get as much of that tart cinnamon apple flavor in my mouth as I could. Nothing like it.

I loudly sucked my teeth to get the last hints of it on my tongue as I looked around the homey kitchen. Yellows and faded reds made up most of the color scheme. Everything from an ancient looking wall clock to the curtains to the door was a lovely shade of apple, all of it warm and inviting. So much of it was made of wood, which took a while to get used to. Wood is such a luxury in pegasus cities, but they have plenty of it down on the ground. A coatrack stood by the door, holding up my safety goggles and Braeburn's worn hat. Pots and pans hung near an old black wood stove, ready to be grabbed, and lots of kitsch stared down at me from high shelves. An embroidered picture hung by the door to the outside, an apple tree with green lettering: "Bloom where you are planted." I scoffed at it. Yeah, it was a nice sentiment, but c'mon. No ambitions, just accept what you're given? No thanks.

Braeburn must have heard me. He turned his head and smiled warmly as he stretched out his fetlock, his silky mane bouncing against his forehead and shoulder. "Somethin' wrong?" The soft light fell on the side of his face, making his eyes shimmer like green gemstones on fire. He was so damn pretty, and he was definitely flirting with me. If I'd had any doubt that he'd swing my way, it evaporated in that moment.

I crossed my legs when I realized I was staring. "Oh, uh, nothing." I gestured around the kitchen with a hoof. "It's a nice place you've got here."

"Why, thank ya' kindly, but I'm just mindin' the place for my aunt while she's out travelin'. I'm actually from, uh…" Braeburn's voice lowered and became flat. "…out west." He grabbed a knife and quickly cut a piece of pie, setting it on a clean plate as the bounciness returned to his voice. "This should be done. Let me know whatcha think!"

Braeburn brought me the pie, but he hadn't even set it on the table before I was going to town. I'd thought the first one was superb, but this one took my breath away! The crust was flaky, the filling was gooey and sweet and comforting, like getting a hug from inside your belly, and I didn't even care that I'd just about burned my tongue off. My lips smacked as I gobbled it down, and I noticed Braeburn staring at me as I literally licked the plate clean.

"So, ya' liked it?" He crossed one foreleg over the other and tilted his head. Was he trying to be cute? It was working, but he had this air of hesitation around him that told me something wasn't quite what it seemed.

I've always been good at reading the signs. When you've been with as many ponies as I have, it comes naturally. There's the way they stand, like they're presenting something to you but trying to not be obvious about it. The shy ones always cock their head and speak a certain way, and I was totally getting that vibe from him. He was being especially coy, and I thought to myself, 'Heh, he's playing it close to the chest. Probably still in the closet. I'll have to give him a hoof with that.'

"I bucking loved it! Anything to wash it down with?" A small liquor cabinet sat on the floor near the stove, and naturally, I saw bottles of apple schnapps and apple whisky through the glass door. I pointed a hoof towards it. "How about one of those?"

Braeburn gave me a weird look, then turned his head and paused. He studied the cabinet like he'd never seen anything like it before. "Uh, I don't... think we should." I waited for him to continue. "It's my Aunt Honeycrisp's. Wouldn't want to intrude."

I blew some air out of my lips. "Pfft, she wouldn't mind. Family, right?" I stood up from the table and started towards the cabinet.

"I-I'd rather we didn't." There was something in the way he looked at me, something pleading and desperate that stopped me in my tracks. It... hurt. A little. "...Please."

Keep in mind, I've had a lot of fun with the 'Bolts. Alcohol is like water to me, and I don't usually let ponies tell me how to live my life. But I thought to myself, 'This guy's got some skeletons. Why are the cute ones always so sensitive? Probably shouldn't push it.' Still, he wasn't letting me have a drink, and I wasn't just gonna let that slide. I put on my best accent. "Aww, don't they teach yew tuh hold yrr liquor out west tharr?"

He snorted at me and started giggling. It made me tingle. "Aw, Nelly, you're terrible!"

"Whaaat?" I whined, pretending to be hurt. "I thought that was pretty good!"

"Naw, ya' sounded like some kinda hick. We may sound a bit different, but you ought not give us settler ponies any grief." His tone had a slightly sharper edge. "Don't forget who grows the food and makes the pies." He moved the dirty dishes to the sink, next to the half-melted ice pack he'd given me for my injury before we'd had the pie, and tension hung in the air like a thick mist. I knew what was coming, and my heart skipped a beat. "Can ya'… stay a while?"

I thought about how ticked off Spitfire would be once she found out I'd skipped practice. Didn't matter, though. She heard about everything eventually. She was probably already thinking of ways to make my training harder tomorrow. But I thought, buck it. I was having a good day, the first one in a long time. I was staying.

My wings unfurled, and I responded with a lot of enthusiasm. "Sure!" I don't usually get embarrassed, but I felt myself pull back and shrink a bit as I smiled at him. "I mean, I wouldn't wanna fly until we're sure I'm okay, right?"

"Great! I'll just take care of these dishes later." He turned back to me. "Sure ya' don't want another ice pack? It'd be no trouble, and ya' hit that tree pretty hard."

I shook my head around a few times. I had a weird headache, but nothing too extreme. "Nah, I'll be fine. Thanks, though."

"Well, okay, but let me know if ya' feel woozy." He walked through a doorway into another room, and I followed instinctively, catching another look at that sweet ass of his.

Then the words just fell out of my mouth. I must have been distracted. "Thanks for all this. I'm not used to this much love and care at work." My chest seized up. 'BUCK!' I'd just dropped the L-word on a closet case. I was sure he'd noticed, but when I looked up, he didn't seem to flinch.

Braeburn turned around in the other room – a study, complete with bookcases, a reading lamp, and plenty of seating, all in the same color scheme as the kitchen – and sat down on a large, old sofa. "That's... pretty tragic." He avoided looking at me. "You don't have anypony to take care of you? No family?" He turned his head toward me with sad eyes, and quickly added, "They didn't throw ya' out, did they?"

I felt a pang in my chest, and like clockwork, my head snapped up and I reared up and struck a pose. "I'm Soarin' Windsong! I don't need anypony." My default answer, completely wooden. "I'm having the time of my life, tons of fun, no problems at all!" My front hooves hit the floor before I looked around and gestured at nothing. The words burned my tongue. Every interview went like this. I told myself that, no, it's fine, Braeburn's cool, but the canned responses kept coming. "I just feel so lucky to have my career and all my fans." I was talking too fast and nearly sneered at myself. "What more could I want?"

Braeburn frowned. "Somepony you could count on would be nice."

"I…" My shoulders relaxed a little, but I snorted and spat out, "Yeah, it would." My mind started drifting to a powder blue pegasus, and I had to force myself not to think about her.

Braeburn's head quivered and pulled back, and he gave me this wide-eyed, frowning expression that made my stomach sink.

"Oh, hey, sorry!" I walked over to the sofa and sat down next to him. "Didn't mean you. You're a really sweet guy, you know that?"

He chuckled. "Aw, heck. That's what they all say." His voice had a hint of pain in it. "Frankly, I'm surprised you recovered so quickly."

My head still hurt. Badly. "Eh, injuries are pretty common in my line of work. You learn to walk it off."

"You keep mentionin' work, and I feel like I've seen you before." He raised an eyebrow at me. "Are you one of the Wonderbolts?"

I puffed up my chest and beat it twice with a hoof. "Captain of the stallion squad, in the flesh. Sounds like you've heard of us."

He flashed a wide smile. "Of course! I don't often get to the big cities, but I did catch a peek at the Santa Neigh show a while back."

I chuckled. "Yeah, that was a good show. Second one of that tour, actually. I love the early shows, when everypony's energy is still high. The crowd always seems to respond more, too." He was nodding along with everything I was saying. "You want an autograph or anything?"

"Oh, I don't need anythin' fancy like that. I'm perfectly content listenin' to your stories. It kinda reminds me of my old adventure books. You ever read the 'Free to Fly' series?"

A smile flashed across my face. "Dude! I love those!" I jumped onto the couch next to him. "It's my favorite series!"

Braeburn nodded at me. "Well, then you've got mighty fine tastes. I hope I'm not spoilin' anything if I talk about the ending of 'Broken Wings,' am I?"

I sat up tall. "Nah, I finished that one months ago." I raised two hooves in front of my face. "That part where Sky Hunter rushes at Von Hoofenstein?" I slammed my hooves together. "And bam!"

Braeburn smiled and nodded wildly. His voice picked up the pace. "And Whitewing comes outta nowhere to knock Hoofenstein's sword away? Hoo-ee! Thought I was gonna have a heart attack!"

I was talking faster, too. "And when Whitewing's at the edge of–"

"–the cliff with one wing broken? And Hoofenstein's goons–"

"–have him surrounded! Dude!"

"Yeah!"

"Dude!"

"Yeah!!!"

We talked like that for hours. We sat on that couch, in that dusty old room with the worn furniture and the dim light, gushing about books and the weather and Cloudsdale and anything that came to mind. I can't really tell you much about that conversation because, well, I don't remember much. I was just right there, in the moment, and everything felt natural and relaxed, like nothing I'd felt in months.

There was one thing in particular that I remember clearly, though, maybe two or three hours into it. We hadn't moved from the couch at all, but we'd each relaxed into our seats after a solid six minutes of laughing about that botched heist in book five, 'The Velvet Hoof.' Braeburn wiped a tear away and said, "Don't suppose you do much stuff like that in the Wonderbolts. Y'all seem so professional."

My mood dropped a little when I started thinking about work again, but I immediately saw the gentleness on Braeburn's face, and the heaviness evaporated. "Nah, we keep it pretty tight. Gotta give the audience what they pay for, right?"

Braeburn sat up, and his tone became a little mellower. "Is it like Sky Hunter says, though? About really being free of… of everything?" His eyes widened, and he quickly added, "I-I imagine it gets a little tedious, doin' the same thing all the time, right?"

My chest felt different around Braeburn. All the tightness and the weird pulling I'd felt every day was gone, and everything felt more open, more full. It all flowed, and the words just came to me. "Well… no, it doesn't. It's never gotten old." I looked down at the floor, and my voice got quieter. "And, actually… sometimes I think it's the only thing I have left."

Braeburn paused, scooted a little closer, and asked, "How do you mean?"

"Well…" I sighed and looked out the window. "It's like Sky Hunter says. When I'm up there, flying as hard as I can, I'm free. No matter what I'm worried about, I can always escape, and there's been a lot to worry about lately." My chest seized up a little when I realized I was spilling my guts to a stranger, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. "Life gets tough sometimes, and you just… you just feel like…"

Braeburn's voice was sad and low. "Like it's all just fallen apart."

I looked back at him. His eyes were cast downwards, partially covered by his mane. Something needled me deep inside my stomach. I didn't like seeing him like that. I had to cheer him up, so I put on a goofy voice and said, "Well, hey, at least you've still got your looks."

He chuckled and looked up a little. Our eyes met, and I felt a rush of blood to my head as he said, "Well, yeah, I suppose there's that."

We talked for another half-hour or so after that. I know Braeburn talked a little more about raising apples back home, and I threw in a few stories about partying in Cloudsdale, but almost everything else is a blur. While we sat there, nothing else in the world mattered. It made me feel the same way flying does, like I was floating, totally free of all the troubles that could try to weigh me down. It was peaceful. It was nice.

As comforting as it was, though, my desires eventually crept back into my mind. My blood felt hot. I wanted him. I wanted him so much more than I'd wanted anypony in recent memory. Looking back, I realize it was more than just his gorgeous body, but at the time, I was too stupid to see it. There was a lull in the conversation, and I took a moment to appreciate his face again. Everything about it was so perfect, so soft and strong and honest. It matched his voice.

He started to talk about his old house or something, but I cut him off. "I really like talking to you, Braeburn. You're special, you know that?"

Braeburn stared at me, dreamy-eyed and with a warm smile. He looked sweet and innocent, full of puppy love, and I wanted to bang him right then and there. I thought to myself, 'This. This is what I need. It'll be good for him, too. Just gotta close the deal. Here we go, back in the saddle. Ask him about himself, then get him on his back when the conversation opens up.' I felt a little dirty at those thoughts, and not in a good way. I pressed on anyway. "So, 'out west' is a big place. Where you from?"

His smile flat-lined. "Oh, uh..." He looked around the room before turning back to me. "I'm from Appleloosa. It's a small town of settler ponies. Just started up a couple years ago. You should, uh, come for a visit sometime." His tone was low and heavy.

'Small town boy. Alright.' I nodded, looking up and down his body. My voice turned to a purr. "Well, I like what I've seen so far. Is Appleloosa full of strong, sexy workhorses, or are you the only one?"

Braeburn blushed, and his eyes darted to the side. His breathing got heavier, and he shied away from my compliment. "Aw, I don't know anythin' about that."

I chuckled at him. "Heh, suuuuuure you don't." His breathing kept up its pace, but his smile faded. I figured he needed a little push. The closeted ponies usually do. "I bet all the stallions are after you back home." I scooted closer and leaned in, spreading my wings out. "You must be beating them off all day."

He scooted away. After a moment of silence, he groaned, "Ya' shouldn't tease." His posture sank, and he stared at the floorboards. "It's... it's not nice."

I suddenly felt very, very small. Part of me realized I was throwing away something perfectly wonderful just to get off, so I leaned back and turned away. "Sorry." There was quiet, and I looked back over to him. "I wasn't teasing, though. You really do have a–" My eyes fell onto a purple and yellow mark on his flank, right on his cutie mark. How had I missed it before? "You, uh, look like you bruised your apple there." I pointed a hoof at his injury.

His head perked up, and he looked where I pointed. After staring a moment, his eyes widened, and he shifted his weight with visible discomfort. "Aw, it's fine." I didn't believe him. "I've had worse."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Jeez, not too much worse, I hope." Something inside me pushed me forward, and I rested a hoof on his leg. A voice that didn't sound like my own came out of my mouth. "I… I don't want you to hurt."

Braeburn sighed and sat up straight, keeping his eyes on my hoof. There was silence. I was used to being the center of attention, but I was unnerved by the way he was staring. I felt his eyes drag across my body as he slowly looked up, pausing a moment to ogle my waist. If I'd been my usual self in that moment, I probably would have said something stupid. 'You like what you see, baby? Plenty to go around.' I wasn't myself, though. I felt... naked. Yeah, I know, I wasn't wearing anything, but it was different. My heart beat faster, and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Braeburn was examining me, and for the first time in a long while, I felt vulnerable, exposed.

It never got to me during shows, even when I was starting out. Sure, there are thousands of ponies looking at me with bated breath, just waiting for me to pull off an amazing stunt or fail spectacularly. It doesn't matter to them – it's a show, and they want action. Doesn't bother me. I'm out there, soaring above all of them, in the zone and barely aware they exist unless I want to feed off their energy. I feel invincible. But with Braeburn, it was the opposite. Everything in me tingled, like I was a display in a museum that everypony was staring at. I was scared, but after the conversation we'd been having, I didn't want to hide anything from him.

I felt every twitch of his velvety leg, took in every flick of the ears or of that gorgeous tail. His gaze traveled up my chest, making my heart skip a beat, and he took a long look at my wings. As his eyes met mine, I saw something. I saw everything – fear, desire, joy, lust, sadness, calm. It was all so... honest. We each took in a short breath, our eyes locked onto each other. My mind went blank, totally clear except for one thought, this idea that I'd had a thousand times with other ponies. But this time, it struck me completely paralyzed.

'He's going to kiss me.'

Was I right! Braeburn shut his eyes and practically leapt forward, tackling me onto the couch. His lips mashed against mine, and I heard a shivering moan escape his throat. His hooves wrapped around me, groping at my back as we sank into the plush seat. It had been a long time since anypony had jumped me so hard. As I was gathering my wits, he began sucking on my lower lip, nibbling on it just a little. He was sooooo into it.

Heck, I was, too. Here was this beautiful stallion, just the right mix of rugged and delicate, all over me. I started kissing back, running a hoof down his side. That got him to shudder a bit, but not as much as a moment later when I started kneading his flank. I forced my tongue into his mouth, wrestling with his as my free hoof ran through his soft, heavenly mane and pulled his head closer.

He started pressing his whole body into mine. His hips moved gracefully, tantalizingly, sending waves of pleasure up my spine. I held him close, squeezing him tightly and taking the lead. We almost rolled off the small couch a few times, but I was always there to catch us. Oh, dude, the way his legs rubbed against mine... They were so powerful. I consider myself the better athlete, but I couldn't compete with those legs – so strong, but his movements were so tender.

I broke away from our kiss, gripping him tightly around the chest. Braeburn melted in my forelegs. My face nuzzled against his, and his scent hit me hard, a mix of sweat, apples, and lust that made me dizzy. I licked him once on the face before kissing him across the cheek and down his neck. I caught a glimpse of his lips quivering as I worked his neck with my mouth, sucking on him and lightly biting him on the shoulder. He moaned loudly, and his muscles tensed as I lost myself in his toned body.

His breathing grew heavy, and his body grew rigid. I held him closer. His body heaved once. I thought, 'Maybe he wants it a little rougher?' and squeezed harder.

The way he yelped nearly broke my heart. I froze. I fought to keep my hips in check and my body in place, afraid I'd hurt him somehow. He loomed over me, and for the second time that day I felt something wet on my forehead. When had he started crying? I looked up into those beautiful green eyes, but all I saw was fear. He looked so fragile, and my heart sank at the thought that I'd done something to him.

We stared at each other for a few seconds before he finally sputtered out a few broken words. "Suh... sorry. I think I have to–" He sniffled and stopped looking at me directly. "Gotta. I didn't... You should go."

I blinked once or twice, stunned. He didn't move off of me, so I figured his heart wasn't really in sending me away. 'Okay,' I thought, 'So he's got some issues. No big deal. I've still got this.' Dozens of lewd images popped up in my mind, and I was too far gone to think straight. I couldn't see Braeburn anymore. All I could see was some temporary relief.

Instead of getting up from the couch, I wrapped one hoof behind my head and stroked my chest with another, giving him my best come-hither leer and speaking in a soft, low voice. "Aw, c'mon, babe. We were just getting to the good part." Bucking my hips up into his, I added, "Don't tell me you don't want more of this." I took the hoof from my chest and... ran it up his leg, and...

* * * * *

Soarin' pauses. His face and wings droop as he draws lazy circles on the foreleg rest next to him.

I speak first, gently. "Yes?" I feel a twang of guilt in my chest. I know the story I'm after isn't all sunshine and rainbows, but seeing Soarin' there, knowing I'm forcing him to relive something painful, makes me question my convictions.

He sighs. "You have to understand. I try so, so hard to not let my anger get the best of me, but I was stressed. It was a weird time." There's another pause, and I wonder how hard I should press him. "My dad wanted me to go into airball instead of high-speed flying, you know." He looks at me. "When I was young. I'd liked it at first, especially since I'd hit puberty so early. I absolutely dominated, and my coach used to tell me that I had a real killer's instinct. I like the ring of it, and a few seasons in, I started throwing my weight around more."

Part of me wants to get back to Braeburn, but I shouldn't interrupt him.

Soarin' looks past me, and his eyes glaze over. "There was this one game, Cloudsdale versus Stratus City, final period, all tied up. I got the ball and rushed the end zone when this wimpy little guy flew right in front of me. Kid was a shrimp, but he had guts. All I could think about was how much he'd regret getting in my way. He was expecting me to evade, where he could get me out of bounds, but I saw right through his game.

"I plowed into him. No checking my speed, just full-on, totally illegal ramming into him, hoof-first. Kid crumbled, and a well-placed punt got the ball into the goal. I felt amazing. Nopony was going to keep me from getting what I wanted.

"But, when I looked around, nopony was cheering. I looked down and saw the kid squirming on the ground, total submission and fear on his face whenever he looked up at me, and my blood ran cold. That was the first day I remember ever hating myself. I buried that 'killer instinct' after that, and I wasn't a star player anymore. I quit at the end of the season, and I promised myself I wouldn't let it happen again. I wouldn't ever get so angry, so obsessed with getting what I wanted that I would hurt another pony."

Soarin' looks up at me, eyes pleading and head hung low. I chew on my lower lip for a second and ask, "What happened with Braeburn?"

It's quiet.

* * * * *

I ran my hoof up his leg, but he slapped it away.

…and I lost it. "Ow! Buck! What was that for?" I hadn't been denied like that in a long time, and with everything else on my mind, well...

"You some kinda idiot!?" he shouted through the sobs. "I told you to leave!" He didn't seem to notice that he still had me pinned down.

I wanted to hit him. Sweet Luna, I wanted to hit him. Looking at Braeburn, all my fury came flooding back – anger at my squad mates for being so competitive, at Sapph for toying with me, at myself for being so messed up, and all of it was pointed straight at this golden pony that was looking down at me. My cheeks flushed and I growled at him. "Fine!" I shoved him off of me – hard – and made a show of standing up and slowly walking away. My wings unfurled as I entered the kitchen, and I shouted at him without looking back, "Have fun in the closet, you psycho!" I practically kicked the door down. "Say 'Hi' to your dresses for me."

"I..." He mumbled something as I stomped outside. I wish I'd known what it was. Maybe it would have stopped me. Maybe I would have turned around right there and gone back to him and made everything better. And maybe it would have stopped a lot of the pain.

I didn't go back, though. I just flew away.

Without thinking, I tore into the sky, rage fueling my flight as blood pumped rapidly through my veins, causing a loud pounding in my head. My muscles felt tight, and I ground my teeth, and I cursed at a bird that was singing nearby. Air filled my lungs before I snorted it out, and the warm evening sun felt really nice and the trees were really pretty and my wings started to relax a little and...

And I didn't stay angry for long. By the time I was a few hundred meters away from the farm, the guilt had taken over. I kept thinking, 'The buck is wrong with me? Braeburn's a great guy, and he's the only pony I've had a real conversation with since I-don't-know-when. And I flipped out after I was the one that pushed him too hard. How the buck is that fair?'

The sun was nearly setting. I knew I wanted to go back to Braeburn, even if he didn't want me there. I wanted to apologize. But my pride kept jabbing me from inside. But I'd hurt somepony that hadn't deserved it. And I was just leaving him. But I didn't want to dwell on it, didn't want to get messed up because of one guy I'd spent a few hours with. Yes, he'd shown me something special, but that had just made me all the angrier when it had been taken from me. I didn't know what to do, so I just flew away.

I just flew away.

Comments

[Starlight Nova]

Aside from the obvious, are there any differences between this story and the mature one?

[Vivid Syntax]

7190979
Nope! This is an alternative for those that would prefer to skip the adult content altogether, including the intimate scenes and some of the language.