Pink Theories

by Charles Wolfe

First published

Theory needs to find inspiration for his book and he decides Pinkie Pie can help.

Needing inspiration for his book, Theory sets out to get just that at a party hosted by Pinkie Pie. How will things play out for them?


Currently searching for an editor.
Also I did this for Theory Brony who's currently homeless. He's trying to get to Brony Con this year. While he has met his minimum goal, I still want you to go to his pages, channel, etc... below and help out any way you can.
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((Pic from unknown artist on Deviant Art))

The Beginning

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A yawn escaped the stallion's lips as he roused from his nap. His neck cracked loudly, bouncing off the slightly decorated walls. He spotted his favorite painting, the one he got when he did a book signing the year before, resting on the wall across the bed.

His eyes drifted to the purple one, the one he had always thought had been very pretty, but his gaze quickly shifted to the orange Earth mare. For some reason, he always spared her more feelings than most of her friends. Why, he didn't know. She was an honest farm worker he really had no interest it, but he remembered the chat they had and how they clicked.

Shaking his head, he rolled from the bed, smoothing the blankets with his hooves. As he was about to walk out, he passed the dresser, noticing the note. He groaned. “Oh, I should, but how am I going to if there's nothing to write about? No inspiration!”

He balled it up and threw it in the waste basket, making it perfectly. He gave himself a pat on the back for doing so without the aid of magic. The little celebration ended once he caught a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror.

He sighed and made his way back to his room. The soft carpet once again greets him and he smirks, remembering the stallion's that put it in. They invited him to a party, but he was smack dab in the middle of writing and he didn't want to lose his flow.

Now he wanted to take up the offer. It took him a minute to bring up the name of the mare they said hosted them bi-monthly. “Pinkie!” His eyes flew to the painting, glaring at the pink Earth pony hugging him and her friends tightly.

He named off all five of her friends, walking over and touching the art gently. For the first time, he looked more closely at her. She had a nice form. Strong legs and a firm-looking body. Her curly pink mane, he remembered, smelled like candy. Cotton candy in specific.

He giggled foolishly. “Maybe it is cotton candy.” He rolled in his lameness for a moment more before he forced himself to get cleaned up. He left the painting, still smiling. “Maybe this party will be the inspiration to start my next book!”

He almost skipped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. True, the house was empty, but his college days had turned it into a habit. You never knew when a frat brother was going to show up and prank you hard. Worse even were the beautiful mares he had to refrain from touching.

A close friend of his, whose name he, unfortunately couldn't remember, had touched one of them and ran into her boyfriend later that day. Not wanting the same fate, Theory kept his gray hooves away from any pony of another sex.

He turned the shower on, waiting for it to heat up to the right temperature. Normally he set the shower up five minutes prior, but the nightmare decided it would mess him up fierce. Rolling around, and off, the bed could do that to a pony.

He made silly faces in the mirror, imagining what the party would be like. It had been quite some time since he'd partied for real. In fact, the last hard party he had participated in was his going away party. When he told everyone he was moving out to pursue his dream, they wanted him to never forget where he came from.

And he still didn't. He always would remember the ponies that raised and cared about him.

He shook his head again, not wanting to end up going too far into the past. Instead, he breathed in the steam that was rising from the shower. The thick air helped him relax as he quickly pulled a towel from the cabinet across the room.

He noticed his special shampoo was empty and nearly had a panic attack. Spotting the replacement, he calmed and hung up the towel, stepping into the stream happily. As the water his hit body, he felt all tension instantly leave.

He moaned pleasurably, hanging his head and letting the water pour over his body for a few seconds, adjusting to the feel. As he grew accustomed to the warmth, he stood straight, wrapping his golden scrubby in an aura.

“Oh, hello my pretty...” He chuckled at his silliness and poured a generous amount of soap onto his back, lathering it around. He felt the pain and trouble fall away as he stopped worrying about the book he needed to get on ASAP.

He imagined the party, instead, and its hostess, Pinkie. He could see her bouncing around, like she usually did, little balloons scattered about, cake and punches littering tables with other snacks. He envisioned her friends conversing with randomly generated ponies.

Then he saw himself, standing right in the middle of it all, mind taking mental notes on how it could all turn into a wonderful romance, something he had yet to write. His gaze shifted to the party pony and new instantly she would be the star.

Her party animal style would be met by a more docile, but still outgoing stallion. Maybe Unicorn, like himself, just to throw everypony for a loop. It was rare, seeing a Unicorn and Earth together. Opposite ends of the social spectrum in some places.

When he nearly fell he snapped back to reality, quickly scrubbing himself. Rinsing away the suds, he washed his tail and mane, wanting to hurry up before he was too late to enjoy himself. Ten years was a long time to go without treating one's self.

Feeling clean, the stallion quickly jumped out of the water, shutting it off with magic, simultaneously drying himself off and stepping to the mirror once again. He saw how his mane hung back, slightly off from normal. A few quick passes with a brush got the brown hair to settle right, handing about his head gently.

It was as short, but not very. It went no lower than his neck, spiking out every here and there. His tail was nearly the same, just slightly shorter, but basically the same. He admired how he looked, trimmed fur, a nice slate gray. A bright slate gray, he often said.

Running a hoof through his mane, he felt ready to go out and enjoy himself. He trotted out, tossing the towel with other dirty linens. He continually looked about his home, paying close attention to the paintings and pictures, making sure they were straight.

With a smile, he left, looking down the empty street. Spotting the moon rising from the horizon, he guessed it was sometime after eight and that the party had no begun yet. But, to make sure he didn't miss anything, he put a little pep in his step, arriving just minutes before the party was scheduled to officially begin.

Despite the time constraints, he saw that the house was empty. Confusion crossed his face and he walked to the door, spotting the note telling him where the party was located. He looked around to make sure he was correct and set off in the direction listed on the paper.

It was almost as if the ground was vibrating as he walked, small pebbles bouncing as his distance from the small town of Ponyville grew. In the distance, he could see flashing lights of several colors. He was confident he knew that the party had escalated and was now what they called a “rave”.

From what he had heard, drugs and alcohol were consumed in bulk at such places. Being a fan of neither, he started to have second thoughts when he noticed a few other ponies walking on the same path as him.

None were significant in his mind, mostly just random ponies that did normal things and were being adventurous for once. But he could see from their expressions this was something they did often. And if he hadn't seen their expressions, the glow sticks they carried were another give away.

On the edges of his hearing, he could hear a low thrumming. Wub wub wub wub wub... It sank deep into his bones and ignited something inside him he had to fight to contain. What in the world is going on?

His question was directed at the movements his body wanted to make that he refused to allow. He wanted to go everywhere, letting his body flow with the throbbing bass of the music as it slowly filled his ears, drowning out the conversations he paid so little attention to.

It wasn't long before he met the door, as well as a burly Earth stallion with a security badge on a chain around his neck. Had it not been for the strobe lights, he would have blended right into the darkening night around them.

He was regularly checking ID's and Theory realized he didn't have his. All he could do was hope to be recognized. With a smile bigger than he was, he walked up, trying to pass by the stallion unnoticed. Unfortunately, it didn't work.

“ID or go home,” he grunted.

“I-I-I-I left it,” was the Unicorn's stammered reply. “Don't you recognize me?”

After a moment of studying, the recognition registered. “Oh, dear Luna, of course!” He stepped aside, allowing him entrance. “So sorry, Theory. I should have known it was you.”

With a chuckle, the writer went inside, looking at the collected mass of bodies that bounced to the booming music that had seemed so much gentler from outside. Deep inside his body was moving and flowing, but outside he kept as still as possible.

He stuck to the fringe, looking for Pinkie, since she was the supposed host. He spotted her on the stage next to an alabaster Unicorn with shades forged from amethyst covering her eyes. The electricity colored blue caught his attention, registering her as the famous DJ Pon-3. He, as well as about every pony in Equestria, admired her. The first clean DJ in who knows how long, despite the events that transpired at her raves.

Many looked up to her and he was one of them. He saw Pinkie whisper in hear ear and walk off stage. Suddenly, he felt a body fall on top of his, nearly making him collapse. “Gahh!” he exclaimed, whipping his head, coming face to face with the pink mare.

“Wait, how did....I just saw you walk off the stage! How did you..you're not...” He continued to sputter, trying to express his confusion, which he did. His inability to even form a complete sentence made Pinkie smile, since she often combined several hundred into the space of one minute.

“Hi! It's been, like, a year since I saw you! Betcha been busy writing a new story! Is it going to be another action one? Oh, maybe another sad one. Oh, I really want one with lots of parties! Maybe another adventure one!”

“No, Pinkie, I'm thinking about doing a romance this time. But I have no inspiration. I was going to the party at your house, but I saw the note it was moved...” He looked about the cavernous room. “Quite more than I had expect when I left.”

“Oh, yeah, well, it was her birthday so I decided to tell everypony to come here and we could all celebrate so we all came and here we are and here you are and so are all my friend and their friends and their friend's friends and their friend's friend's friends and-”

Theory's chuckle silenced her. “You talk a lot, don't you? Do you think I could get on stage and wish her a happy birthday?” A quick nod from Pinkie and he was on his way, the mare talking his ear off the whole time.

He nodded every so often or agreed to something she said, enjoying every tidbit of information she told him, whether it was about her life or how to bake cookies in two seconds. They exchanged a few jokes and feel silent at the stairs.

“Well, I'll see you later, Theory!” The Earth pony squeed and hopped off, mane bobbing up and down. He could help but let his eyes drift to her rear, enjoy a little too much how it shook. He forced himself to look away, feeling dirty for such a gaze.

He trotted silently to the DJ, ears nearly bleeding from the intensity of the music this close to the speakers. How she could deal with this all the time, he had no idea. By the time he reached her, he was ready to collapse.

“Hey, man, you need these!” she yelled. Two plastic devices shoved themselves into his ears, lowering the volume of the music drastically. “Always remember deflectors. Keep those ones, I've got hundreds of pairs.”

“Thanks,” he stated. “I was about to pass out. How do these work? Sound resistant material? Enchantment? I've never seen anything like them.” He studied the pair in her ears, white, like her fur, almost blending in.

“It's a mix of tech and magic, dude. Blocks some sound, like loud music. But they've got mics in 'em too, so you can talk to ponies. Surprised you hear Pinkie over this, but then again she's got a big one on her.”

They both chuckled, knowing how true it was. “Well, I wanted to say happy birthday. Can I ask what year? No matter how many interviews I read, I've never found it out. That's the one question everypony needs answered, DJ.”

She let out a guffaw. “You've got balls, Theory. If I wasn't a fan of your books, I'd kick your ass. But I'll consider telling you, alright? No guarantees. Secrets are what keep my safe, bro.” She tilted her head momentarily. “Tell you what, I'll give you three chances to guess. Get it wrong all three times, I get to buck you right off the stage.”

A shudder went down his spine. High stakes. Just the way he liked it. Right on the spot. Nothing better than everypony knowing him and having their eyes on him, although he never said it, nor did he think he had truly earned the fame they said he had achieved.

“First guess is...hm...” He took a moment for consideration and guessed. “Twenty-four.”

“Nope! But you're damn close!” the mare blasted.

“Oh, I know exactly how old you are, DJ! Twenty-three!” he squawked.

“Damn it!” she hissed playfully. She stamped a hoof on the ground and reached out for a high hoof. “How'd you know?”

After slapping hooves, he pointed at her face. “The glasses. You said you started wearing them as a teen. They came out about ten years ago. I know because I'm twenty-three, too. Birthday was last week.”

“Aw, sweet! I can give you a belated birthday present. Be a good way to kill two birds with one stone, you know. You need a birthday present from me and I need you to keep your mouth shut about my age. Even you aren't supposed to know,” she purred.

“Hey, only do it if you want to. I'm not asking for anything. I've already got plenty,” he insists.

“Oh, I'm sure you do,” she counters, “But I still think you'll like mine the most.” She turned slightly, lifting her tail up and pushing it to the side. “Don't worry about pulling out; I'm taking stuff for it. Have been for years.”

“Whoa, whoa, DJ, what are you doing?” He turned his head, blushing brightly. “I thought you were giving me a gift.”

“Dude, I am! You think anypony gets to sleep with me? I've very picky about the stallions I have sex with. Mostly Unicorns my age that are pretty respectable. The ones that give me respect and are completely honest are the ones I like.”

She turned her head back. “I bet you want to, don't you? You want to mount me in front of all of these ponies and let them watch. You want to bend me over there table and spank my ass and rut me like there's no tomorrow!”

“Yes, I do!” He hated being so honest, but he couldn't control it. Honesty was one thing he always promised to use. Lies were one of his least favorite things, aside from chocolate and beans. The former didn't digest well and the second...well, it's a common thing.

“Then come on, big boy!” She waggled her ass, awaiting the penetration. She kept her eyes trained on him for a minute and finally came to the conclusion that he wasn't going to sleep with her. Straightening up, she looked at him in confusion. “How come you didn't do it? Do you know how many stallions would kill to be in that position?”

“Yeah, but I just...look, DJ, you're a beautiful and talented mare, I just...I'm not really looking for sex. I never really was interested. Plus I'm working on my next work and I need a clear mind. Too much dopamine and I might not be able to think straight enough to work,” he admitted.

“Oh, sweet! I'm a fan! What genre are you going to toss out now? You haven't done horror, comedy or romance yet. Which one? Please be romance, dude! Come on, make this one a romance for me!” she begged.

“Yeah, it is a romance.” As the mare jumped for joy, he kept talking. “I was going to have Pinkie as the main character. You know, party animal mare sleeping around eventually finds love. Not too gushy, but I want it to be cute.”

A glitter came across Pon-3's face. “Dude, put yourself in it! Make it between you and her! It would throw everypony for a loop and they would freak out! But I think Pinkie's pretty reserved about sex. I've never seen her banging any stallions around here. Hey, Theory.”

He perked his ears up, listening closer. “Yeah, DJ?”

“How many mares have you been with? I'm sure you've taken a few fans back to your place to show them a good time. Hell, I know I have. Few got lucky enough to get more invites.” She chuckled, tilting her head in remembrance.

“Oh, man, there's this one stallion who's just...oh, he's good. Looks a lot like me, except his mane is shorter and he's got muscles. That and the fact he's gray. But he's good. Me and him get together at least once a month.”

“Wow, you're quite a master. If you weren't so picky I might have used a different word. But I...well, I've never been in bed in my life. Never touched a mare once. I've wanted to a good deal of times, but a friend of mine got into a little trouble. Changed my mind instantly,” he grunted bluntly.

“A virgin? Wow, I'm surprised. Nice, though. Maybe you should give it to Pinkie. She's a good mare. Hell, if she's a whore like you want her to be for your story, fucking her will help you write. Especially if you want to take it up a notch,” she suggested.

“While that would help, I'm not going to sleep with her. Not just because I'm being cautious about who I give my virginity to, but because I don't even think she'd want me like that. She might think I'm telling a mean joke or that I'm flat out lying. I don't want that,” he countered.

“Dude, any mare would want you. You're awesome. Not as awesome as me, but still awesome. You write books, I scratch records. Come on dude, just do it.” He started to reject it, but she smiled. “I'll make a deal. Sleep with her tonight and you can use me in your romance novel. But I get to pick the stallion I fall in love with, got it?”

He considered it for a minute. He could say no, but he'd have trouble getting inspiration from anywhere else for a romance novel. But if he said yes, he'd lose his virginity, but that was sounding better from the way the DJ spoke about sex.

There was also the fact of Pinkie getting pregnant, but he was sure there would be condoms somewhere, judging from the numbers of ponies humping in the back corner. “Well, looks like you've got a deal. Maybe I'll take you up on your sex offer one day. Since I'm going to lose my virginity, I'll have a little more freedom.”

She smiled. “Cool, man. She's in the back. It's my lounge. She said the sound was getting to her and she needed a reprieve.” She pointed him to the room and he thanked her, trotting off with a little bounce in his step. A few ponies bumped him, but no fans mobbed him, much to his disappointment.

He knocked gently on the lounge door with a soft yawn. He wasn't tired, simply a little bored. Nothing interesting had happened and, if he had no luck with Pinkie, he was going home. The door swung open, revealing a red-eyed Pinkie.

“Oh, hey!” she squeaked.

“Hello. May I come in?” She nodded, stepping aside to let him in. When the door shut, she hopped over. “So, Pinkie, I have a question to ask.”

“Yeah?”

“Would you like to have sex with me?”

The bluntness of his question left her a little stunned. “I...wow, nopony ever asked me like that before.” She held her chin for a second. “I'm not sure. I'm not going to give my virginity to anypony, not even you. Yeah, you're famous, but, still...”

“I'm a virgin, Pinkie. I'm working on my book and, since it's a romance novel, I need a little sexual experience if I am to describe it in the book. I had actually thought you were experienced, with the parties and all.” He smiled kindly.

“Oh, no. Everypony seems to think that. I'm not a whore, I just love parties. I still don't think you've convinced me yet. Keep going!” she squealed, posing with her hoof on her chin in anticipation, eyes wide with mock eagerness.

“Well, let's see. I could try flattery and butter you into bed. So, I'll start with that.” He took a deep breath, clearing his mind to ready himself. After a quick set up of a mental notepad, he was ready to begin.

“Pinkie, you are a beautiful mare that many stallions would die to have. But many of them do not deserve you and never will. You have a beautiful character. You like to make ponies happy, doing everything you can to make them smile.”

Her pinks cheeks had become red sometime during his complimenting. She wanted to play hard to get, but she wasn't sure if she'd be able to. She gulped, taking a moment to calm herself so she wouldn't stutter.

“P-p-pretty good, but no dice. Keep trying!” she responded with a giggle.

“Hm. I could be dramatic.” Wiping his face clean, he steeled himself to act as desperate as he could. He got down, hooves slammed together. “Oh, Pinkie, please! I'm begging you! I'll do anything, just please let me sleep with you!”

She laughed at his act. “Oh, you're so close! Try again!” Her mouth was wide with a smile and she was just about ready to give in. The crush she had was threatening to make her crumble right there. But she held fast, awaiting the line that would make her melt.

“Well, I'll try one last time. This time, I'm just going to be completely honest, okay? If that doesn't work, then I'll leave and try to get inspiration somewhere else.” He nodded, showing his statement to be serious.

“Pinkie. I don't know you, nor do I really have any feelings toward you. But I have had a hard life. My life was the inspiration for the first book I wrote. I never knew my mother. Why? She died giving birth to me. I didn't understand that until I was ten.

“At that point, I felt so horrible. Thanks to me, my father had to raise me. His love was gone. The mare he had given his heart to was dead. And it was my fault. That was when I started trying to kill myself. Just in my sixth grade year I attempted suicide thirteen times.”

The tears welled up in Pinkie's eyes. She covered her mouth in horror at hearing the story of a stallion that seemed to have had a wonderful life. She had expected something sweeter and had no idea she would be pushed to the verge of tears. Her lip quivered and her body shook as he continued.

“I kept trying over and over to kill myself so my dad wouldn't have to see me anymore. He would have been so happy if I had never been born. He would have been able to live with the mare he married, but I took that from him and I hated myself for it.

“Eventually, he brought me in to see a counselor. I told the truth. I told him how much I hated my life and how desperately I wanted to die. How badly I wanted my dad to be rid of my presence. I was sixteen, my dad was thirty-seven. My mother would have been thirty-five.

“Somehow, Dad got the information. I didn't want him to know. It was supposed to be a surprise. He was going to be so happy. But he came into my room that night, crying his heart. He asked me why I thought he hated me.

“I said that I didn't think he did, that I knew he did. I took away his wife, leaving him with a useless son that hadn't even gotten his Cutie Mark.” He absentmindedly turned his head back, staring at the slate gray spot where a Cutie Mark normally appeared.

“I remember exactly what I said to him. 'Dad. You hate me because I stole Mom from you. If I had never been born, you would be able to hold her. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't cry every night. You wouldn't go to her grave and ask Celestia why she had to be taken.'

“That was the day I did it. I made him cry. He ran from the room, sobbing. I grabbed a rope I had put under my bed and tied a noose. I slipped it around my neck and tied it as tight as I could to make sure it didn't slip off.”

The tears were building up in his eyes and Pinkie's were flowing freely. She wanted to hold him, but her heart was falling to pieces. Her mind was becoming a pool of sludge. Her smile quavered and faltered worse than it ever had.

“I climbed into the attic. There was a strong beam right in the middle. I covered the windows. There was a chair, one Dad said was Mom's favorite. I used it to tie the other end of the rope around the beam. I was getting ready to jump and I wanted him to see his dead son. The last thing I could ever do that would make him happy.

“I called out to him. 'Good-bye Dad! I'm so sorry for taking Mom away! I love you!' Then I kicked the chair out and fell. I fell and fell and fell. It seemed like hours, but it probably wasn't even a second. The rope tanked taught and I felt my airway crushed.

“I smiled. I smiled so widely. I was going to die. Dad was going to be happy. His life would go on and mine would end. No longer did he have to think about the pony that killed his mare. No more did he have to think how his own flesh and blood could do that to him.”

He wasn't sobbing, but he was going to if he stopped speaking. Pinkie, on the other hoof, was there already. Her legs were wobbling, barely able to support her weight. She couldn't look at him, only the floor as he continued his story.

“My eyes...the darkness was taking over...the light was fading...my heart...I could feel it slowing in my chest. But, at the same time, it was racing, trying to get oxygen to my body, frantic to let me live while I wanted to die.

“My legs went limp and all I could do was peek as I saw my father's form at the top of the staircase. I knew he was smiling. Everything was finished. He was finally going to be rid of me. I would have cried if my body had let me. I was so happy for him...”

He fell silent. There was more, but his voice was refusing to let him go on. He sat down abruptly, barely able to keep himself from bawling like a foal. His whole body shook and his eyes were redder than Pinkie's had been when she opened the door.

“Th...Theory...” She lifted her hoof up, stroking his cheek lovingly. “I...I had no idea...I...it's like...I...Theory, I've had a crush on you since you wrote your first book. It was amazing and...it was like time slowed down. Like I slowed down.”

She lowered her face, glaring love deeply into his eyes. “I never felt like that before. And when I met you for the first time...the same thing happened. I wanted you, but I wasn't going to have you. I thought you had a girlfriend already.”

When her face got closer, she could hear how ragged his breathing was. He was doing his best to hold composure, but the battle was being slowly lost, something he very much didn't want.

“When you came here tonight, all alone, I knew my chance had come. I was going to swoop you up. You were going to make me happy. But...but then...then you just...” She was lost for words. She had nothing to say, but her point was understood.

“Why didn't you tell anypony? Why keep this bottled up? Couldn't you have written your autobiography and told us all? Why did you keep it secret?” She, normally high speed and spitting words faster than most could hear them, was barely saying a word a minute.

Her words weren't exaggerate. She slowed down every time she was around him. Her voice was more gentle and soothing and her motions we're lighter and more loving. She cared more than he could know, no matter how long they lived.

“Because...I hate myself. Every day, I try to forget about it all, but it'll haunt me forever. And I deserve it. I...I didn't die...he didn't let me. I woke up and I was in the hospital. My eyes had barely opened and I felt him hug me.

“'Don't ever do that to me again, son!' he cried. I couldn't understand it. He had saved me? I thought he wanted me gone. 'Son. I don't hate you. I miss your mother, but you killing yourself won't bring her back. And, if you kill yourself, I'll be all alone.' It made me cry.

“I was going to leave him alone. I thought I was doing good and all I did was making things so hard for him. I made his life more hell than it already was. It made me feel even worse, but he comforted me and held me.

“But...that night...he...he said he was sorry. He came in drunk. He smelled like liquor. He was dirty and disheveled. He said he was so sorry. I didn't know what he meant until the next day. He committed suicide. They said he left a note. I remember what it said, too.”

He cleared his throat. “My dear son. I'm so sorry I did this to you. I just can't live. I made you think that it was your fault she died. It was my fault. It was my fault. We hadn't slept together since we learned she was pregnant and I was desperate. I begged her for just one more time. She said yes.

“But I wanted it to last, so I gave her some pills I got from a friend. He said they would help prevent you from being born while we were having sex. But he gave me the wrong pills. He gave me testosterone supplements.

“I didn't know until they did the autopsy. I didn't tell you because you'd hate me, but I would have taken that over you hating yourself. I should have come clean sooner, but it's too late. I can't live with myself anymore.

“Your mother's death was my fault. If I had only waited a little longer, she'd still be with us. If I hadn't been so selfish, you'd still have a mother. Maybe even a brother or sister. But you don't and it's all because of me.

“I just want to say that I love you, son. I'm sorry and I love you more than you could ever imagine. Don't ever blame yourself for what happened to your mother and don't dare blame yourself for what happened to me. I love you, son.”

He fell silent. His story wasn't over, but he could no longer speak.

“Oh, Theory,” Pinkie cooed. “I'm here. I really want to say something If you'll let me.” His silence was her answer. “Theory. I love you. It's like I said before; nopony has ever made me slow down before. Not by just being around me.”

He gradually stared into her eyes in disbelief. “L...love me? But...Pinkie, I...I just-”

“Shh.” She put a hoof to his mouth. “You listen to me. You love me, too. You love me because I'm the first pony you'll sleep with. You love me because you told me your deepest, darkest secret and I didn't laugh. You love me because I love you. You love me because I love your books.”

Even though he hadn't felt that way, he slowly realized that everything she said was true. She would be the first pony he ever had sex with. She heard his life story, something nopony else had ever heard, and she had only cried with him.

And the fact she loved him made him want her. The part about her loving his book, however, was like icing on the cake. He smiled and, with a sudden burst of energy and happiness, he tackled her to the ground, lips clamped on hers.

She was surprised, but only for a brief moment. Once she overcame the initial shock, she was melting in his grasp, enjoying the warmth his body gave to her. She could help but smile through the kiss as she let her hoof rub his belly.

“Come on,” she muttered. “I want it. I want you.” She arched her back, rubbing her slightly wet crotch against him. A jolt of electricity shot through them both as the Unicorn groaned, shoving her back on the floor, biting her neck lovingly.

“Oh, yes, harder,” she begged. He bit down more, earning a squeak. She writhed in pleasure, desperate for more. “Please, bite me. Harder, Theory, harder.” he bit down even more forcefully, drawing a trickle of blood from her.

Her body tensed and she flipped him under her, ready to give him what he deserved. “Get ready, Theory. I'm going to make you happier than you ever imagined you could be.” She brought her lips down on his neck, slowly kissing down his body.

Ever so often she stuck her tongue out, licking his fur, maybe taking a small nibble of his flesh, making him squirm and squeal and beg for more. She felt his rock hard tool brushing her underside and smirked. “Teasing time.”

She pulled away, looking at the black beauty before her. She'd never seen one, but often heard stallions talking about them and anything over nineteen inches was considered large. She was pretty sure he was over nineteen.

Placing a hoof on his gut, she wrapped the other around his shaft ever to lightly, just enough that he felt it there. As her hoof slid up and down, he nearly cried. It was such a light touch and he wanted more. It was the worst kind of torture he could imagine and he may have to use in a novel.

Watching his wiggling, she let go, bringing her face to it. She breathed in deeply the thick musk, noticing how it sent a shiver down her spine. Her tongue lashed out, barely touching his cock, but rocking him more than an earthquake.

She did it, again and again, the salty taste running through her body. Spotting is tip, she saw fluid. Intrigued, she gave it a suck. She was smacked with the tangy flavor of his pre-cum. Hungry for more, she stuck the tip deeper into her throat.

“Oooooh,” the writer groaned, running his hoof through her mane. “Oh, dear Luna...”

The words barely registered to the mare as she drifted into her own state of bliss. Despite her inexperience, she was turning out to be a natural. She spun her tongue around his shaft, grinding her taste buds on the sensitive skin as she took more of the dick into her.

It stretched her throat a little painfully, but she accepted it and kept going, only becoming aware of how far she had gotten when she felt the bulge of his medial ring pass her lips. She stopped, opening her eyes wide, seeing his body ten inches away.

He noticed her stop and shoved her head forward, making her cough slightly. She fought against the pressure, but he had a strong hoof. She smacked his leg and he quickly pulled his hoof away, apologizing. “Sorry...it feels so...oh, good...”

She rubbed his back lovingly, telling him he was forgiven. She steeled herself, going further, controlling her gag reflex and realizing she could no longer breathe. She pulled back for a quick second, taking the deepest breath she could and went back forward.

His whole penis fit down her throat and she grinned in accomplishment. But, she soon realized, she couldn't just sit there. Bobbing her head, she let it flow in and out of the hole she had opened up, sweat growing on her brow.

“Oh, dear Luna, Pinkie, don't stop.” It was all he could do not to grab her head and make her go even faster. The heat of her throat was burning his shaft and he could feel a pressure building between his legs. He closed his eyes, relaxing his body to get the most out of the orgasm he was about to have.

The rapid twitching of his rod was telling her she had one of two choices: keep going and let him finish in her throat or take it out and jack him off. Her love and determination to please him won over and she clamped down on his toy with her throat, slamming her head down, driving him over the edge.

He howled loudly, shoving her head down as far as it would go, sending the burning fluid down her gullet, warming her insides, making her smile wider than she ever had. Not even the Sonic Rainboom that helped her get her Cutie Mark had made her this happy.

She did her best not to move, letting him give her his full load, pouring more and more of the thick white substance into her stomach. Nothing but pleasure coursed through the Unicorn's veins as her was slowly drained for everything he had.

He fell flat, spent from his first orgasm. Little did he know he had much more to offer the mare. She sucked hard as she let it slip from her mouth, relishing the flavor of his cum, noting it had an almost chocolaty taste.

“Did you like that?” she asked once his head left her mouth with an audible pop.

He nodded weakly. “Oh, very much, Pinkie. Oh, thank you. Thank you so much.” He propped himself up, looking into her eyes. “I...I can't thank you enough. I...I think I love you. It wasn't, you know, the blow-job, but that helped a great deal. You told me you loved me and...the way you explained it...it feels so right...”

“Theory...will you be my boyfriend? I...please?” She grabbed him around the waist and pulled him into a hug. “I promise I'll be calmer and I won't ever cheat on you or...anything. You just...you grip me and make me slow down and you don't even try.”

He chuckled. “I'm nothing special. I may be a famous writer, but who said I was any good? How my books topped the charts is just...it's inexplicable. There are many better authors than me. But the fact you love my books...that makes me happy. It makes me very happy.”

She released him. “So, will you?” He nodded gently. She squealed. “Come on, let's go back to my place!” She sent him a bedroom look and whipped her tail around, dragging it across his chin.

“Oh, Pinkie, aren't you getting a little slutty...” Her blush made him stand up shakily. “Do you think I could rest tonight? Please? That was...just amazing. I mean, I've never felt like that before. I've never had a blow-job or jacked off before. Dear Luna, that was fantastic.”

She turned even redder. “I had hoped you would have liked it. I can wait until...whenever.” She brought him close, letting the stallion use her body as a crutch. “Hey, Theory? Could I...could we go to your home instead?”

“Well, it's a little further than your place. Are you sure Pinkie? It's a little lonely in there. Just me and paintings. No family or friends or anypony to keep me company...definitely.” The thought of a warm body next to his was perhaps the best idea he had ever been given in a long time.

She squealed again. “Thank you!” She kissed his cheek. “Oh, this is so exciting!” She blushed, realizing how hyper she was getting. “Sorry about that,” she said, slowing her speech down. “I know I can be a little annoying sometimes. I'll get it under control. You'll make it easy.”

She pecked his cheek again. They were nearly the same size, save for the once inch Theory had. They looked like any other couple as they left the room, bodies pressed together. The DJ caught sighed and sighed. “Well, there goes a good time. Least he's got a mare.”

The bass thrummed, but neither of the couple were phased thanks to the plugs. “You know, if I was a Pegasus, I could wrap my wing around you. Sucks that I can't. But I still think you want me the way I am.”

She nodded, her head resting against him. “Of course, Theory. I want you and nopony else. And the book you're going to write? You're going to make it about me and you, aren't you? Maybe you could tell this story, how we met and what happens between us.”

He leaned down and nuzzled her, pecking her nose. “Sounds like a good place. I love you Pinkie.”

“I love you, too, Theory.”