HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I may be getting on in my years, but I’m certainly no spring turtle.
The world moves too quickly. I’m the sort of turtle that tries to appreciate the little things in life and smell the roses along the way. Sure, call me slow, but we’ll see who is laughing when you hit 50.
When I wake up, my pony has already flapped away for the day. Leaving me alone again. Well. Except for her. But I try not to pay her any mind. I rise to my feet and move across the room to put my little shoes on. I can’t help but smile as I place my feet inside their fuzzy little holes. They have the face of my caring pony on them. But, I’m sure, before I even realize it, she’ll speed right back into our home and give me some tasty kale. I really don’t deserve her kindness, but if my companionship can even remotely pay her back, then at least I’m doing something.
With my shoes on, I navigate the short five minute walk to the bowl of water in the kitchen. Good thing too, my throat was absolutely parched.
I take an inventory of the world around me, and get to wondering how I can preoccupy myself today. I could see if I can get my propeller on all by myself, but my feet are usually too short to strap myself in safely. Then again, it’s the only way to see… her.
There are four other turtles in this house other than me. They treat my pony like the queen she truly is. I’ve seen them literally place themselves beneath her hooves, just to soften the clouds she walks upon. However, she carries me. I am clearly the favorite.
Yet, something deep inside still moves inside of me. I shake my head.
Silly turtle. I think to myself. Leaving yourself vulnerable to the trials of the heart.
As my mind tries to drift away, it grows ever nearer to her. Slipvia. Well, it’s the name I call her in my dreams, that is. I don’t actually know what name graces her fair beauty. Yet, should a rose taste any sweeter by any other name? Or give better poops?
I sigh happily, but instead decide that my day should be better spent by a nap in the sunlight. I turn toward my favorite resting spot, which the blue pony so wonderfully placed a small rug for me at, when I freeze in place. There, alone upon my rug, she lay overturned. My lady.
Her three companions were nowhere in sight to help her!
I may have been over a room away, but I felt as if I could hear her soft cries for help. I bolted as fast as i could, and in nearly 73 seconds I arrived by her side.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my tone betraying the concern I felt. She lay completely still, resigned in her inability to flip herself over. Resigned to her new life.
“I’m going to flip you over, okay?” I say to her. “It’s going to be okay.”
I place my head underneath her shell and push upward with all my might. To my surprise, she is lighter than I expected. She flips back on four feet, and remains still. Shocked, stunned.
I move in front of her and give her a bright smile, but my eyes are blinded by her radiance.
Her shin is soft. Abnormally soft for any turtle I’ve had the pleasure of in my lifetime. Her eyes are as large as the full moon, illuminating the evening sky. I feel the heat rush to my cheeks. And I attempt to not let my body betray my feelings. I think about something disgusting, like Mallards. Curse those foul ducks.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice soft and gentle. She remains still, looking deep into my eyes. I look deep into hers. It’s like one of my dreams becoming reality. Slipvia is stunned. Speechless before her hero. I only wonder what she will say to the other turtles.
“My name is Tank. I believe the blue pony is our mutual friend. I’m happy I could help you.”
It may be a trick of my eye, but I think her lips twitch. The words caught in her throat.
“Maybe I’ll catch you around?” I say. My heart hurts that she cannot find the words to speak, but there are worse things in life. I’m no stranger to taking things slow. These sort of relations… no. Friendships. They take time.
I walk away from her, towards my typical sleeping spot, when my jaw nearly hits the floor.
Her rear end is displayed before me, glistening in the sunlight. My breath catches. So this is the sort of turtle that Slipvia is…
Not that I mind.
“Are you sure?” I ask, approaching her. My manhood unleashes from my shell. “It really wasn’t anything.”
Yet her body remains still, ready to accept me. Her silence is telling. Her stance is confident.
“Okay,” I say, “Here I come.”
Then, we do as animals do.
I crawl myself on top of her. And her soft hole accepts me like a new pair of shoes. A perfect fit.
I gasp at the sensation her flower gives around my most sensitive flesh. I push in slowly, but she is more than willing to accept me. I worry for a moment I may be too small for her. But I can feel as she remains still, pushing deeper into my body. I smile, and push deeper.
“Do you like that?” I gasp.
I push and push. Relishing the feeling of her body encasing mine. I run my feet over the softness of her shell. They don’t make turtles like this back home. The act feels so foreign. So wrong.
So special.
Her body betrays mine.
“I’m getting close,” I mutter. “Is that okay?”
She remains silent. But I can’t help myself. It just feels too fucking good. I could get used to this. I want to keep her. I want to have soft, gentle children together. I want to live my remaining years with Slipvia. She is special to me.
“I’m cumming!” I gasp.
I push myself deeper and she pushes into me.
“HHHHEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.”
“Hey Tank, I’m home!” Rainbow announces as she enters her home. “What a day. Where are my slippers.”
She looks to Tank’s rug, where he lays beside one of her slippers, asleep.
“Daww, he’s so cute. My nice, old turtle.”
She crosses the distance and slips a hoof into her slipper.
“Wait. What the--?” She pulls out her hoof, now covered in sticky white fluid. “EEEEWWWW.”
And that’s how Tank came inside Rainbow Dash(‘s slipper.) Needless to say, Rainbow was shell shocked.