A Little Push (FIN)

>This sucks.
>Long shadows claw the classroom's walls, faltering orange light unwilling to fight them any longer.
>You are Anonymous, and you are locked in here with the cutest girl in your grade.
>A girl that approached you, asking to be friends.
>A girl so sweet and shy that, you're sure, she's been put up to this by her friends.
>The two of you had been... hanging out a few days a week for the past month.
>Even if this was some cruel joke, something kept you from telling her no.
>Like she would shatter if you rejected her.
>Meanwhile, you're sheltering your fragile ego as best as you can the whole time, trying not to give her anything her friends could use to harass or bully you with.
>And now you're stuck with her until a janitor comes by and unlocks the room to clean it.
>You're bored to tears. Your phone is dead and you don't have a charger.
>You've just been sitting here for the better part of an hour, trapped in an endless loop of self-defeating thought, so wrapped up in ruminating that you didn't even notice Fluttershy sit down next to you.
>The sudden physical contact from her hand on your shoulder gives you a start. You jolt and shout, making Fluttershy cower, guarding her head with her hands.
"Don't sneak up on me!"
>"I-I'm sorry... I tried talking to you, but I was too quiet to hear."
>You sit yourself upright and, due to her being irrationally close, get a foot or two more breathing room by sliding over on the ugly carpet.
"What do you want?"
>You talk to your knees, not trusting your words to form fully if confronted with Fluttershy's face. You hear her rummaging around in her purse.
>A charger and cable enter your field of view. "I, um, noticed that you weren't using your phone, so I thought that it might have died..."
"Oh. Yeah, thanks."
>You hold out your hand to catch the lifesaving equipment. She tilts hers, letting it fall into yours. You plug it in and get your phone charging.
>In silence.
>You look sideways at Fluttershy. She whips her head away, having obviously been watching you.
>You keep looking sideways and catch her casting a furtive look your way before turning back with an "Eep!"
"What are you doing?"
>"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."
"This..."
>You wave your hands, encompassing the two of you and the room in the gesture.
"This prank. You're taking it too far."
>"P-Prank? Anon, I've told you before that it isn't a-"
"You expect me to believe you when you're so clearly hiding something from me?"
>"H-Huh?"
"Every time I've asked you what you could possibly see in me, you say something like I'm 'nice' or that I 'look cute.'"
>"Y-you just are! ..."
"See? You can't even give me a convincing lie when I ask *how* I'm 'nice' or *how* I look 'cute.' Every time you've hung out with me, you look like you're about to barf."
>"T-That's because-"
>You stand up, raising your voice a little.
"You say you want to be my girlfriend, but you can't give me a good reason why. Well, I'll tell you why. You don't want it. You hate me. You wish I would drop dead. Then why do you insist on saying you want to be? It's because Sunset and her friends are pressuring you to!"
>"Anon! Don't talk about my fri-"
"Some friends they are, huh? You're trapped in a locked room with a loser and they haven't done anything to get you out."
>"That's- You're not-"
>You're loud now, pacing up and down the rows of desks, throwing your arms around, ranting. You don't care. It feels good to get this off your chest.
"You had to work up the *fortitude* to even talk to me and give me a charger so *I* could call someone! Well, let me tell you something, Fluttershy! I CAN'T CALL ANYONE!"
"I DON'T HAVE ANY FRIENDS! MY PARENTS DON'T COME HOME FROM WORK UNTIL AFTER I'M ASLEEP! I'M ALONE!"
"There, there you go! There's something you can tell your 'friends' to get them off your back! Anonymous is a friendless loser who comes home to an empty house and leaves without so much as a goodb-"
>You register the shaking puddle in front of you as a crying Fluttershy.
"ye... Fluttershy?"
>It sounds like she's trying to form words, but the sobs she chokes through distort her words and wound your heart, making her impossible to understand.
>Your arms go limp at your sides, grabbing air without fruit. You step forward, moving to kneel before her before she snaps her head up, eyes screwed shut, and yells (talks loudly) in your face, "I'm sorry!"
>You freeze.
>"I'm sorry for lying to you! So don't insult my friends or y-yourself any more!"
>You slowly fall onto your ass as Fluttershy continues to yell (talk loudly) at you.
>"I think you're nice because you never told me to go away even while I was bothering you! You look harmless, like a bunny, and that makes you a boy that I feel comfortable being around!"
"Uh-"
>"And, and this isn't a prank! It really isn't! The reason why my friends sometimes get involved is because I asked them to! I'm really scared about messing this up!"
"Fluttersh-"
>You begin to get red in the face. Hearing a girl say these things about you, hearing /her/ say it, it's too much to process.
>You're being overloaded with emotion, choked up, weighed down.
>"And I'm sorry for lying to you about why I wanted to go out with you!"
>"The reason why I wanted to go out with you is because everybody says you have a small p-p-penis!"
>Knocked out. Mentally, you're not there anymore. The body moves, it reacts, but the rational mind is on vacation.
>You fall over and curl up, trying not to cry. You fail. You can't focus on anything.
>Just like that, you've been broken.
>Fluttershy scrapes the bottom of the well, tears no longer flowing. She crawls over to your side and looks down at you.
>She puts a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it, lowering herself onto her side,
>"I-I-I'm a h-h-horrible person. I'm so s-scared of everything, b-but selfish, and I wanted to, but I felt left out, and I asked the girls, 'Which boy is the least threatening,' and they all said you, and so I said, 'Okay, I'll become his girlfriend and lose it just like you,' but they told me that it was fine, but I really did want to, and- and- and..."
>She lets out a deep, shuddering exhale. Two shallow breaths, another exhalation. When she can exhale no longer, she gulps down air like a fish drinks water before continuing. Her voice tempered, not even, not strong, but under control.
>"I've been trying to use you like you weren't even a person. I was lying to you from the beginning. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I won't- I'll leave you, alone, and if you hate me, I won't-"
"Prove it."
>"... Prove it?"
"Prove it. Prove you w-w-wanted to... to... l-lose your virginity with me."
>The confidence in your voice commits hara-kiri by the time you have presence enough of mind to understand what the fuck you just said.
>"..."
>Fluttershy is quiet for a long time. You're transfixed on her face, and she yours. The closeness between the two of you can be measured with a single fingertip. When did she get so close?
>Or was it you? Her hand is on your shoulder, yes, but your hand is on her waist. You don't know when or how it happened. The fabric is soft. The heat is blistering.
>You try to move your arm away, but Fluttershy lets go of your shoulder to wrap her arm around yours, locking it in place.
>You can't read her face. You've never seen an expression like that before. It's... intense.
>You open your mouth to apologize before she headbutts you.
"GAH!"
>"Owww!"
"Y-You didn't have to hit me!"
>"I didn't mean to!"
"What do you-"
>Your words die between her lips as she locks them around yours.
>You don't think this is how a kiss works, but you can reduce this thought to the first three words with the euphoria stamping out the paltry years of your education with aeons of rugged evolution dictating your reactions.
>You pull back, slipping your lips out to meet hers head-on, without fear, as a man should.
>You, instead, bump noses.
"Ow!"
>"Uuu..."
>The two of you pause, the calculus of kissing causing your cognition to hang on an infinite loop about the possibility of sex, and your body is more than ready to dive straight into that.
"Is this really happening?"
>"I... I don't know."
>"Do you... do you want it to happen?"
"I... don't know."
"..."
>"..."
>"... Are... are the rumors true?"
>The word dies in your throat. You don't want to say it. You have to. You need to never say it. You are going to remain a virgin forever if you don't.
>Finally, a croak, a grunt, something guttural that could pass for affirmation climbs free from your throat.
"... ...eah."
>This time, the kiss has tongue.
>Fluttershy rolls on top of you, legs, struggling against your side as they try to find a comfortable position. You help her, and each are treated to the roiling heat of inner thighs rubbing.
>She wriggles like an eel on your stomach, neck extended, shifting her weight to be able to kiss you. You wrap your arms around her and push her into you, then pull.
>You both begin seizing and discarding fistfuls of cloth, desperate to feel skin on skin.
>You're turning blue. A blast of air hits your cleft. She's breathing through her nose.
>Clever girl. You'll do that, too.
>Anything to keep yourselves together.
>You thrust upward, dry humping her panties, and she shoves down on you, pinning you to the ground, your throbbing two and five-eighths inches completely enveloped by her heavy, heavenly, butter-soft ass.
>Skin-to-skin contact is momentarily lost as she fumbles with your buckle, nails scratching against leather and metal, overcoming the unnatural, abhorrent /thing/ keeping /her/ from what's /hers/.
>You have a much easier time, as she wears a skirt. You yank down on her panties, and yank, and yank, trying to shove her legs together so you can get them off.
>You're still kissing.
>She brings a knee up, pressing it into your stomach. The panties are caught in the crook of her knee. You pull. You hear fabric tear, but they retain their integrity long enough to get caught on the heel of her shoes.
>That's when they rip.
>But neither of you care.
>The buckle unbuckled, the button unbuttoned, the zipper unzipped, her nails dig into your thighs as you hold her tight, thrashing backwards, getting your pants to below the knee.
>You kick them off as she pulls at the button. You hear her /snarl/ with pleasure as the cheap thread keeping yourself hidden in your boxers is torn free, and she grabs hold of it.
>Still kissing.
>Her hand completely covers it, but her hand is a burning pillow. You almost come right there. Her thumb and forefinger form a tight ring, sliding down to the base of your cock.
>She guides you into her, but stops.
>She breaks the kiss.
>"D-Don't thrust. Please."
"Nn."
>"Let... let me, please. All of it. At my own pace."
"Mmm."
>Satisfied, she smiles. In that moment, you saw her as she was.
>An angel. Pure, sweet, in love. In love with you.
>You want to tell her you love her too.
"l... uhv..."
>"Uhv...?"
"I... l-luh... uh... uhv you..."
>Another smile.
>Her head hangs just beyond where you can kiss her. God, you're trying. She won't let you.
>"I love you too, Anon."
>With divine coordination, she kisses both yous at the same time. You're only poking at her tightness, not even inside yet. Yet...
>Oh god, you're going to-
>No. Not now.
>You pull your hand from her ass and strangle the base of your dick, ruining your orgasm. For her.
>Tears stream down your face, but you remain erect. For her. That's what matters.
>You don't know if she noticed. Her eyes are closed, eyebrows knitted, whimpering into your mouth, shallowly breathing through her nose.
>As your hands rub her thighs, running back to her behind, you feel the way they shake. She's scared.
>Something hits your face. Hot, wet. Her tears. She's found more tears to cry with. She's terrified.
>She's more than proved it at this point.
>You pig.
>You disgusting piece of shit.
>How could you make her do this?
>You shift one hand to support her, fingers dimpling the flesh below her taint, holding her aloft.
>The other hand drifts, rubbing her back, each upward stroke going further than the downward would take it.
>You massage your way up to her neck, fingers cradling her head, chewed nails gently weaving through her down-like hair, tracing lines across her scalp.
>The two of you stay like that until she finds her strength again. You don't know how long that takes.
>You really, really don't care.
>What you're experiencing right now is fucking spiritual.
>You've been taken to some other reality.
>Everything, right here, in this moment, is what you've searched for, needed, in its totality.
>Love. Acceptance. A bunch of other shit you can't remember the words for right now.
>No, it's not that you can't remember the words. There are no words. Words don't exist to describe this.
>In the whole sum of human knowledge, across every language every spoken, recorded or otherwise, there cannot exist a word or combination of words to describe the experience of two becoming one.
>And if you thought that was tough, when she takes your tip, god*damn.*
>God DAMN.
>Her whole body shudders. She cracks open her eyes. Half-lidded, entirely pupil, dazed and drunk. Lord knows how you must look right now.
>After the tip, things move quicker. You lose track of everything but her eyes and being inside.
>She took all of you. Agonizingly slow, tortuously timid, frustratingly frequent stops, some even mid-thrust, but she took all of you.
>It's a blessing in disguise. It's the only way you've managed to last this long.
>But when she gets a rhythm going, you can't last much longer.
>You try to pull your head back, but when you retreat, she advances.
>She digs five pairs of nails into your skull and keeps you close. You can't warn her. You can't tell her you're about to-
>To lose consciousness. That's how it feels. You involuntarily bottom out, back arched, sack shriveling as she cries, milking everything out of you over ecstatic seconds, painful seconds, seconds that will take you minutes to recover from.
>You hear her scream, a real scream, a scream that's louder than anything you've ever heard, a scream she gives before collapses with you, onto you, into you.
>You hug. You breathe in. She breathes in. You breath out. She breathes out.
>You synchronize completely.
>The two of you lie there, lost to the world, but found with one another.
>It's pitch black outside by the time either of you can say anything.
>Of course, you're the one stupid enough to ruin the moment
"Holy shit."
>"Y-Yes."
"I didn't wear a condom."
>"Y-Yes."
"I'm sorry."
>"No, I... I made you. I think. I'm sorry"
"Yeah. Sure. But, still. I'm sorry."
>"Don't say sorry. There's nothing we did to be sorry for."
"... Yeah."
>"Hehehee..."
"... heh. Hehe."
>The two of you begin laughing. The emotions slamming you sideways have no other valve to be released from.
>Sometime during all of that laughter, Fluttershy's phone gets a message.
>It's out of reach of either of you.
>She moves to get up, but you wrap your arms around her. She squeaks.
>You hold Fluttershy close, and roll towards the phone, stopping when you're on top of her. You give her a peck.
>She does the same, rolling the two of you closer to the phone, but her kiss lasts decidedly longer.
>The two of you do four more rolls (two unnecessarily) before Fluttershy rests atop you, opens her phone, and checks her alerts.
>Her face goes pale.
"What is it?"
>Wordlessly, she turns the screen so you can read it.
>[ Sunset: I unlocked the door. You go, girl! ]
>[ Rainbow: And, yes, we *did* see everything. (8 ]
>[ Sunset: I didn't know you had THAT in you! ]
>You go pale, too.
"The whole school already knows about us, don't they?"
>"Pinkie Pie is in the group, so..."
"You know what?"
>"Hm?"
"I don't care."
>Fluttershy giggles, "Me either."