> Fish Tiddies > by ShiveredTimbers > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Where they at? > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fish Tiddies by Shivered Timbers On that particular morning, Pinkie Pie awoke, sitting bolt upright in her bed, two words hushed against her lips. "Fish tiddies." Though quiet enough not to wake the three sisters with whom Pinkie shared a cramped farmhouse room, the pronouncement yet brimmed with excitement barely restrained. Pinkie Pie wanted to see some fish tiddies, and by golly, she was gonna. As luck had it, Pinkie was an authority on tiddies. A maven of mammaries. A bon vivant of breasts, a devotee of ta-tas, a quintessential judge of jugs. She'd seen a lot of boobs in her life, is the point. She had, for instance, seen each of her closest friends in their underwear if not also in flagrante delicto, which was a fancy way of saying "naked". Rarity won the contest for largest, by the way, at well more than a handful each, and her choices in lingerie always made her worth looking at. Fluttershy was second, also possessed of a pair of large, ripe melons, which she usually carried in the plainest undies she could find. Pinkie herself tied for bronze, her jiggly funbags a hair shy of Shy's in size, and another hair above Sunset's. Applejack, funnily enough, was about apple-sized, though anyone who told her as much got a serious glare if not a solid whoopin'. That left Rainbow Dash and the athletic A-cups she was so strangely proud of, followed lastly by Twilight. The poor dear was flat as a board and really hated when the others started talking about breast sizes. So they tried not to. But sleepovers were sleepovers. Pinkie had, in the past, made out with Rainbow Dash (which was hot), kissed Fluttershy right above the navel (which was cute), and held hands with Applejack (which had been very awkward for both them; they might be related after all!) A small hangup wasn't going to keep Pinkie from mentally recording how well everyone was hung. If nothing else, it gave her extra options for present shopping, at least for those among her friends who weren't quite so shy. Then there were her sisters. You couldn't live in a house with four girls all near the same age and not catch sight of a tiddy or two in your time. Maud, for instance, had very sensible boulders for her over-the-shoulder holder. They suited not only her frame, but her entire personality. Pinkie and Marble beat her out, but while the bounciness fit Pinkie perfectly, her younger twin's twiggy frame benefitted considerably less so. No matter what she did, poor Marble Pie ever looked like two water balloons stapled to a tree. Limestone, on the other hand, was a total mystery. She was either really stacked or really flat, Pinkie was sure. In all their years of sororal cohabitation, she had never once caught the second-oldest Pie Sister after a shower. The baggy sweaters Limestone liked wearing didn't help things any. Pinkie tried her best not to be concerned by this. After all, creeping on one's sister was a big no-no, like no no way. But she knew the rest of them, for all that she had never set out to learn that information in the first place, and that list just needed completion. It just kept her up some nights. Oh well, time for fish tiddies. By the time Pinkie had finished that inner narration, her bus was heading into town. Her first stop, then, was the Corner, for a nutritious and energizing pastries-and-pastries-alone breakfast, her favorite. Then she texted Sunset. Then she strolled around downtown, looking at all the weird stuff stores had in their windows. Shopping wasn't something she did often, outside of gift-buying season, but it wasn't like Sunset was going to be awake yet anyway, so she had time to kill. There were early-morning shoppers out, and some kids from school, and hey, there was the lingerie sto-- Bzzz! Bzzz! Oh, Sunset was up after all. pinkie its stupid oclock in the am why do you need to no Text, text, text! went Pinkie Pie's fingers. Boy, did she love texting. All the communicative efficacy of a phone call, but with the added bonus of flappin' your thumbs around! That was way funner than flappin' your gums around. i dont like this but fine That was followed by an address, followed by "i think", followed by an exhortation to be careful. Pinkie promised she would be. And look at that, she'd just gotten to the bus stop! Time for a scene break! The high-rise probably would have looked impressive, maybe even imposing, fifty or sixty years ago. Nowadays, it just looked sad. It poked up out of a big heap of nothing on the west end of town, just empty, weedy lots and cracked sidewalks as far as the eye could see. Yes, it was still a skyscraper, technically, but again, sixty years had done it no favors. She wondered why they hadn't torn it down yet. Sadly, there was no directory in the brick entryway, so Pinkie hupped herself to the elevator, closed her eyes, and slapped the panel of buttons. A soft ding! told her she'd hit her mark, or at least something. With a tchunk! and a lurch, the lift car was on its way up, to the... tenth floor, according to the lit button! Good thing that was the top one. She could work her way down from there. It was a nice elevator, Pinkie thought, even despite its age. Yes, the chrome could have been shinier, the lights could have been brighter, and the carpet definitely needed to be replaced before she'd been born. But between the reflective ceiling, the wood panelling, the maroon highlights, and even the cracks and stains, it gave the old building a stately grandeur. It was like an old man putting on his favorite smoking jacket one last time to say, "If now be my time, then so go I." Dignified. Such a shame she was planning on defiling the place with needless debauchery. Ding! went the elevator again, and the car lurched to a halt. Pinkie had to put a hand on the wall to keep her balance, giggling the whole time. It was like the slowest, most boringest still-actually-fun carnival ride ever! Two more ding!s and the elevator doors opened to a marble hallway that looked way nicer than the one she'd left downstairs. Far less cracked, far less stained, and with a bevy of windows letting in the noonday sun, it was cheery if austere. As Pinkie's boots clacked against the marble, the sound echoed off the bare plaster walls. Like the old man alone in his rocking chair at the rest home, the visitors here must have been few and far between. At the far end of the hallway stood a pair of ornate oak doors. There was no nameplate, only the number 1001 in cracked bronze to identify its location. Pinkie stopped, checked her breath -- frostingy! -- and knocked. Then knocked again. Then knocked a third time. Or maybe it was a fourth. She was kind of in the middle of tapping out a drumbeat by the time the door opened and had lost count. A shocked yellow face stared at her for a moment before the door slammed shut. Smiling to herself, Pinkie placed her ear against the door. It must have been quite thick, as all the rushed conversation and shouted obscenities were too muffled for her to make out any words. Once a minute or so had passed, the doorknob turned, Pinkie stepped back, and the door opened again. This time, the face was purple. "What are you doing here?" asked the girl in question. "Greetings, Dazzles!" cried Pinkie. "Dazzlings!" yelled the yellow girl from elsewhere inside. Pinkie nodded emphatically. "I come to parlay! I have a proposition for you!" The purple girl narrowed her eyes. "What kind of proposition?" "Might I entree-voo?" Pinkie bowed, sweeping her arms to the side, and hissed, "It's not for prying ears!" The purple girl cast a questioning look behind the door. A moment later, she opened it wide and allowed Pinkie access. The interior of the apartment was spacious, with a footprint easily bigger than Pinkie's entire house. The far wall, or what she could see of it, was nothing but windows, just like the hallway outside. Also like the hallway, the place was bare of ornamentation, with hardly any furniture. She caught a pine dining table off to the right, and something that might have been a futon, but no cabinets or sofas, not even a television. The yellow girl crossed her arms over her chest. The purple one stood with a hand on her hip. The blue one sucked on a juice box. "What's this about a proposition, then?" asked the first. "It's simple!" said Pinkie, and pulled her wallet out of her pocket. "I'll give each of ya twenty bucks if you show me your tiddies!" The blue girl spit her drink all over Pinkie and clapped her hands over her mouth. The yellow girl fixed her with a disbelieving, slightly disgusted stare. Pinkie, for her part, didn't mind being covered in pear juice, even if it wasn't Thursday. "Pfft," pff'd the purple girl, "is that all? Easiest twenty bucks I'll ever make." She undid the star barrettes holding her hair up in pigtails. "You need a striptease?" Pinkie shook her head hard enough to dislodge the juice. "Nopey-dopey!" "All right then." The girl smirked as her compatriots backed off, eying her in confusion. She turned her back on Pinkie, dropping her teal jacket to the floor and pulling her top off with both hands. No wonder she needed to take the barrettes out; she never could have done that with them in. Beneath was a no-nonsense bra strap, light turquoise, with a Velcro fastener, in a stretchy material that looked similar to what Rainbow Dash preferred. "Check this out!" She brought her hands up and to her sides, pointing her fingers like little duck faces. Pinkie was suddenly extremely concerned there was going to be shadow puppetry. But with a deep breath, the girl brought her arms down, curling her hands inward. The muscles in her lithe back bulged and strained, and when she breathed in again, the Velcro holding her bra went scrrrtch!, the whole thing popped off, and it flew five feet to smack against the wall. "Woo-hoo!" cried Pinkie, jumping as the girl spun around, arms over her head. "I've been waitin' to show that one off," she said, a languid smirk on her face. She began rocking her hips side to side, waving her hands in a circle like a belly dancer. And oh boy. Every time she moved, those perky little fruits bounced and jiggled just right. She was somewhere between Dash and Applejack on the boobie scale, with thick, dark nurples to go with her skin's purple. Pinkie just wanted to rush over there and squeeze 'em forever, just with her fingertips, nothing to bruise 'em. But that wasn't her purpose here. "Ohhhhh!" cried the blue girl, undoing the fasteners on the front of her shirt. "That's what you meant! I thought you were talking about something else." "Whaddaya think?" asked the purple girl, lifting an eyebrow seductively and pointedly ignoring her companion. "I think you've earned yourself twenty smackeroos, sister!" Pinkie flounced over to her, grinned at the tiddies, and shoved a twenty dollar bill into the girl's waistband. Weird choking noises drew their attention to the blue girl, who had somehow removed her shirt but gotten her bra wrapped around her head and right arm. "Adagio, help!" she cried. "I'm stuck again!" The yellow girl gritted her teeth and slapped herself in the face. "Sonata, I swear..." "I got it," said the purple girl, tucking the money into her pocket and striding over. She was able to extricate the other girl, Sonata, in no time, tossing her poofy pink-with-butterflies bra on the floor. "Thanks, Aria. Yay, the girls are free!" Sonata began jumping up and down. Pinkie followed every motion with her head. Sonata was stacked. She was somewhere around Pinkie in size, but the shape? Oh, that was a thing of true beauty! Round, ripe and firm, perfect for squeezing, smacking or sucking, literally the perfect pair. The nipples were small and pert, the skin was smooth and supple. There was no flaw, no deformation that detracted from the splendor that was Sonata's bubbly blue breasts. And the more Sonata bounced, the more they bounced, and the more Pinkie felt like her head was going to bounce off her shoulders and go join them. Wordlessly, Pinkie handed her the money. Sonata grasped it in both hands, holding it in front of her face with an "Ooooh!" Then she turned. "Hey Adagio, what's this for again?" Adagio ground her teeth. "So, Dagi," said Aria, loping over to her and draping an arm across her shoulders. "You gonna show 'er the goods too? Twenty bucks says you wi-ill!" Adagio clenched her fists, and her teeth kept on grinding. "Aria Blaze, I swear to all the gods in the deep blue sea, I will end you if you don't stop defiling me with your mammalian filth this instant!" Shrugging, Aria backed away, taking up a position in the corner, where she practiced her flexing. Sonata continued to stare at the bill and make unintelligible noises. "C'mon, Adagio!" said Pinkie, waving another twenty in the air. "It's quick money!" All she got in return was a glare. "We don't need money. I'm certainly not about to debase myself for it." "I dunno, Adagio," said Sonata blithely. "Ever since we lost our magic, getting money out of people has gotten pretty hard." "We have a two thousand year old nest egg to live off of!" Adagio threw her hands up. "Twenty dollars doesn't make any difference against the sum of our treasures!" Pinkie nodded sagely. "When Sunset told me you three might be living here, I kinda figured you'd be on the bottom floor. But I let my Pinkie Sense guide me, and it's rarely wrong! This is a nice place, kinda ippartan, but it's good to know you're not dwelling in squalor!" Adagio sniffed. "It was the cheapest penthouse we could find. And the good stuff is in storage." She crossed her arms and looked away. "We need to make it all last." Aria, who was currently rocking the hecksies out of an Atlas pose, said, "You're just chicken." "I am not chicken!" Adagio roared, pointing at Aria, who only grinned at her. "Have it your way," Adagio said at last. She sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and began removing her puffy-shouldered... pink... shoulder... thing. "What is that, even?" Pinkie said under her breath. Adagio then, very slowly, pulled her mauve top up, exposing more of her midriff. She scowled at Pinkie and spun around before removing it all the way, revealing... a wrap? That was definitely not a bra. Pinkie knew bras. Hesitant at first, Adagio undid some kind of clasp and very slowly unwrapped the bandagey things restraining her chest. It took some time for her to finish, and when she did, it was with a whoof of released breath. She wrapped her arms around her chest and very, very slowly, turned back toward Pinkie. "And you have to see them... bare?" she said, as if the word might unexpectedly choke her. "Only if you want the moneeeey!" Pinkie crowed. With great reluctance, Adagio finally lifted her arms, then fidgeted with them a bit, before finally settling them behind her back. A hot blush ran across her cheeks. Whoa. Rarity had serious competition. Adagio's yellow globes hung halfway to her navel. Breasts that size are wont to sag, even just a little, but these did not sag. They flowed. Perfectly pear-shaped, smooth and creamy, with firm (hardening) nip-nops that Pinkie could all but taste from where she stood. Aria slapped Adagio on the back, and the flesh of her tiddies rippled like an ocean. It was a marvel to behold, an eighth and ninth wonder of the world. Pinkie's tongue was hanging out. She was definitely drooling. She handed Adagio a twenty-dollar bill. The other girl snatched it up and immediately covered herself with her arms. "I," said Pinkie, requiring significant mental effort to form words. "Will pay you." "Yes?" Aria said, leaning in with an excited grin. "What I paid all three of you already." "Yes?" Sonata squealed, fists clenched and vibrating in front of her face. "To let me motorboat 'em." Adagio's mouth fell open. Aria laughed, jumping in place, her boobs shaking like pinballs. "Absolutely not!" Adagio cried. "Do it!" chanted Aria. "Do it, do it!" Sonata joined in. "Do it! Do it! Do it!" Adagio, frantic, looked from the two of them to Pinkie, who fixed her with a wide smile and sixty bucks. "One-time offer," she said languidly. Casting her eyes heavenward, Adagio finally released her jubblies to sway once more on the breeze. "Fine!" she said. "Just shut up, the both of you!" Pinkie stepped forward. Adagio pointedly looked away from her, arms fidgeting at her sides once more. "D-don't make it weird, you weirdo," she said, with probably not nearly as much force as she had intended. Pinkie, ever the gentlewoman, handed Adagio the money first. She squatted down. She placed her hands lightly -- ever so lightly, and totally not weirdly -- on Adagio's waist. She pressed her face against the softest skin she had ever felt in her life, and yes that was including Fluttershy's tummy-tum-tum, which she had kissed once upon a time on a dare, has that been mentioned yet? The two mammoth chesticles brushed against Pinkie's cheeks. She nestled into the cleavage, and it smooshed her ever so invitingly. Do it, they said. We don't know what she's so upset about. And Pinkie went BRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBR Sonata and Aria clapped and cheered. Adagio screeched and pushed her away. Pinkie landed on her butt, but she didn't care. That was the best five seconds of her life, and the best hundred and twenty bucks she ever spent. "Get out!" Adagio shouted, snatching up her shirt and draping it ineffectually across her bosom. "Get out, get out, get out, and may I never see you again, so help me Poneseidon!" Gaining her feet, Pinkie flourished her hand above her head and bowed deeply. "Ladies, my work here is done!" Adagio was beyond words now, just howling like an animal. Tittering (ho-ho!), Pinkie scampered for the door. Aria and Sonata were busy poking Adagio, riling her up even worse. With a shake of her head and a whatcha-gonna-do laugh, Pinkie opened the door and stepped out. "One more thing," she said, pausing at the threshold. The three Dazzlings turned to her, and the room went quiet. "If you ever need jobs? You should totally try stripping." She shut the door behind her, glad there was nothing in the apartment to be thrown at her. On the ride back down the elevator, she realized she had spent the last of her bus fare. On the walk back to somewhere she could meet up with a friend for a ride, she decided it had been worth it. Them some fine tiddies.