...and it's really hot.
The school's buckball field is a lot smaller than you had imagined. But, with ponies being as tiny as they are (seriously, they only come up to just above your waist), it's no surprise that a sportsball field would be smaller than a human one.
And the bleachers. Little seats made for little horses. You have to sit all awkwardly cross-legged because otherwise your knees are too high up because you have pretty long legs, and it feels like sitting on a curb. While waiting for the cops to get done listening to the sob story of the jackass that tried to cut in front of you at Safeway because your debit card wasn't working. 'Waah waah waah, I'm gonna be late for my brother's funeral, and she barely even touched me, but I apparently have skin made of paper, because somehow her light little slap made my eye bleed.' What a dick.
"Did you hear me?" someone asks.
"Yeah," you reply automatically, looking up from your crotch. Smolder is standing in front of you. She's the dragon. After coming to Equestria a couple days ago, you met her and her friends, and she invited you to watch her cheer squad practice. So, here you are.
You kind of want to make sweet lesbians with her some day, because she's honestly super hot, but you also still don't know how old she is. Given that you're staying at a school, probably too young. Maybe. It's hard to tell.
"Well?" she asks. One eyebrow is quirked. Or, well, she doesn't really have eyebrows in that they're not made of hair. They're just dark lines above her eyes, and it reminds you of a Latino girl that you worked with who would draw hers on with a sharpie. It looked stupid, but she insisted that guys go crazy for it.
"Yeah. You guys are awesome. For real. This shit's great," you say, and your hands find themselves seeking out itches to scratch and pockets to double check, because you don't really know what to do with them when you can't smoke. Yeah, the assholes in the hazmat suits took your cigs and lighter because they were 'potentially harmful' or something. Not like you need them. You're not addicted. You just smoke when you need your hands to be doing something.
You cough.
Smolder looks confused. "Thanks, I guess, but what about Yona's hair clip? Did you see where it went?"
Now that you look, you do notice the huge yak looking around frantically, with one lock of her hair dangling loosely. You've even looked just in time to see her step on it and fall flat on her face.
"Oh. Yeah. It's probably in the bushes over there or something," you say.
"I already looked in the bushes," Smolder says a little impatiently. "You sure you're not sitting on it or something?"
Your eyes narrow and your lips purse a bit as you inhale a nice lungful of future swear words through your nostrils, only to be stopped by a loud "FOUND IT!"
"It was in her fur. Or wool. Wait, what do yaks have?" one of the ditzy cheerleader ponies says. It's the one with bluish green hair. Mane. Whatever. You know one is named Shimmy Shake because that name is fucking hot, but you forget what the other was, and you can't remember which one is Shimmy Shake. Hopefully the bluish one, because she's cuter. For some reason, they both have some Valley girl thing going on with their accents, but does Equestria even have a Valley?
"Yaks have best hair!" Yona says. She takes the clip from Possibly Shimmy Shake and tries to reattach it, and immediately drops it on the ground.
"Yona, you know you can't do that by yourself," Smolder says as she walks back to the group. "Here, let me help. You two, just do some stretches or something until Ocellus and Snips get here."
As Smolder fusses with the hair clip, you stand up. You decide to chat up the two ponies while they're stretching.
"Hi, Shimmy Shake," you tell the blue-green one. She giggles, which is not a good sign.
"Actually, I'm Lighthoof. That's Shimmy Shake," she replies, pointing at the orange one.
"Yeah," you say, "I was gonna say Shimmy Shake and Lighthoof, but you cut me off."
"Ohh, sorry. I'm not used to, like, humans and stuff yet," Lighthoof says. "Is talking slow just part of your culture or something? Because I know this one pony who talks suuuper slow, and apparently everypony..."
She continues talking, but you ignore her to get a look at Shimmy Shake. She's stretching her... well, whatever leg muscles ponies have. Her head is low to the ground, eyes closed, and her ass is up in the air, and holy shit you just want to lick the fuck out of her cutie mark, but the last thing you need is to be charged with statutory rape of a horse. Maybe coming here wasn't a good idea. You look back at Lighthoof, who's still talking about her slow friend, and you try to listen.
"...and he didn't even tell me her name until we were almost home, but it was Featherfall, and I was like, 'No way! That's my brother's friend's sister!'"
"Uh huh," you say, stepping to the side so that you can't see Shimmy Shake in your peripheral vision.
"So, I heard that humans have cheerleaders too. Do they also make pony pyramids? Or, I guess human pyramids?"
"Sure, yeah, all the time."
"Wow. Those must be super hard to do on two legs. Or super easy if you do it laying down."
"No, they stand up."
"That must be soooo hard to balance on top. Have you ever been on top?"
"I've been on top of a few cheerleaders, yeah," you say automatically, then mentally facepalm as you physically cough.
"Wow, you were a cheerleader? Why didn't you say so? You should help us make a routine!"
"Whoa, no, hey, I was not a cheerleader."
"Oh. Why were you on top of them? Were you having sex?"
"No! Forget I said anything. And don't tell anyone we talked about this."
"Talked about what?" Shimmy Shake asks from beside you.
"Ah, d-wha, uh," you manage, then you compose yourself. "Hey, look, it's been fun and all."
Before you can excuse yourself, Shimmy Shake has her pom poms off, and she's holding them up to you. "Can you hold these for a second? I'm thirsty."
"Uhhh..." you say.
Her head is tilted in the cutest goddamn way ever, and her ear flicks, and you just want to slowly lick around the rim of it, and did she just say "Cool, thanks," and why are you suddenly holding her pom poms? And now she's walking to a bale of hay that has her wide-mouthed water bottle on it.
Lighthoof is saying something that doesn't even register for you. Your whole world is that stupid sexy pony with the stupid sexy name picking up her water bottle in her hoof (still impressive by the way) and popping the lid open.
Emotions bubble up inside you, and adrenaline is pumping through your brain, as the thing you know you're about to see is sure to be incredibly arousing. Even if you wanted to look away, you wouldn't be able to. Your thoughts, muddled as they are, are beyond words, and can only be summed up as :v.
Your breaths are shallow. A fire is burning in your core and only growing hotter as the bottle lifts up to her muzzle. You exhale in a needy whimper as she tilts the bottle up, and you see the water get trapped against the makeshift seal created by her fuzzy face. And holy fuck, she's sticking her tongue out into the water. Wiggling it around a bit. Lapping at it from inside. And when she swallows, you can almost feel her throat convulse slightly, and the overwhelming desire to have your face pressed into her throatlatch at that moment makes your knees weak and your panties soaked.
Her nostrils flare as she takes a post-sip breath, then she sends her tongue back in for more.
No. No, no, no. Legal trouble. Avoid. You can't afford to get arrested and deported back to Earth. Just look away. Look away from Shimmy Shake, which is a really sexy name by the way, and now that you think of it, maybe she is hotter than her friend, because just look at that fetlock gripping the bottle, which she's still taking sips from, and is her tail raising up, or is it just your imagination? Is she actually turned on too?
There's no way. She's just having a drink of water. There's no way she wants you to chew on her teats or nuzzle her pastern or tickle her dock or blow raspberries on her thigh. It's all just in your head. But with the way her breast moves with her breaths between sips, as she's gulping lungfuls of much-needed air, it is easy to imagine her breathing much the same except it's you causing it.
Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. Her eyes just opened, and she's looking right at you.
It's all too much.
There must be a wet spot on your pants the size of a baseball, now.
If you don't run home and rub one out, you're sure you will pass out right there on the field.
But you're still holding her pom poms.
It would be rude to just throw them on the ground and run away.
Okay, wait. It looks like she's stopping. She's lowering the bottle. Good. You just need to—
"Ah!" she says, audible even past Lighthoof's nonstop talk, and that does it.
You have apparently been holding your breath, because it comes out of your lungs in a loud, forceful moan that you try to disguise as a cough, only for that to make it sound shuddery and more lewd.
"You okay?" Lighthoof asks, and for some reason, her voice seems a little distant.
The world spins, and your last thought before oblivion is that you really miss Cheez-Its.