Annabelle - Drunk Giraffe (PART 2) NSFW by AngryWino's

>The Resettlement Office hasn't got any news about positions for you yet.
>But the clerk assures you that your resume has been made available to potential employers.
>Besides, there are always positions for creatures with good manual dexterity.
>Most such positions requiring fine-scale manipulation have traditionally had to be filled by unicorns, which gets expensive, as labor goes.
>Of course, the labor market is currently struggling under the sudden burden of millions of funny-looking hairless apes like yourself.
>The Law of Supply and Demand means that wages have taken a serious hit.
>But she is happy to provide you with your weekly living allowance, courtesy of Her Gracious Majesty, Princess Celestia.
>At least, that's what she tells you as she passes you a small pouch of bits marked with the seal of the Royal Treasury.
>You thank her and head out, turning up your coat collar against the wind.
>Baltimare ain't such a bad place.
>If all else fails, you might even be able to pick up a crew position on one of the many ships in and out of the harbor each day.
>But after that news, you decide you could do with a drink.
>And maybe a new drinking buddy.
/Eh, what the hell. Let's see where this goes./

>So, on the way back to your new pad, you stop to rent a movie.
>You also pick up some six-packs of cider.
>And a couple bottles of good stuff.
>The shop ponies aren't used to humans enough to determine your age on sight, so you get carded.
>Sale completed, you walk out of there like a boss.
>You also stop to get some groceries for yourself, since you have some money left.
>Baltimare being an international port city, the market caters to all diets, and the pony ringing you up doesn't even bat an eye at all the meat in your basket.
>Thus laden with your new possessions, you head home.
>As you unlock the front door and let yourself in, Annabelle cheerily greets you from the kitchen.

>"Hey, Anonymous!"
>Hearing the sound of machinery, coupled with water gurgling, you head to the kitchen and open the fridge, setting the cider and meat inside.
>The closet at the back of the kitchen is open, revealing what looks like a washing machine.
>Annabelle is cheerfully fussing about, tidying up other things.
/Huh./
>In the living room, you double check to make sure that the movie you rented is a format compatible with her player.
>The living room has also been tidied and dusted.
/How about that?/
>Curiously, you risk a peek into her bedroom on your way to yours.
>Though still cluttered, her clothes have been picked up.
>In your room, the pile of soiled sheets is gone, presumably into the wash.
"Hey, did you do all this?"
>"Well, yeah. I admit, I was kinda inspired by you tackling the kitchen yesterday."
"Don't you have work?"
>"I have today and tomorrow off, thank goodness. I don't think I could stand to look at jerkface for a while."
/Her ex, presumably./
"Cool. I thought maybe we could get to know each other a little bit."
>The fussing noises in the kitchen stop and her head peers around the corner, smiling.
>"Really? I mean, sure, if you want to..."
"Yeah, I mean, we're going to be living together for a while, we may as well."
>Her head withdraws, and you hear her putting things away.
>As she walks into the living room, you show her the movie you rented.
>"Oo-ooh, good choice, I haven't seen that one yet!"
>Good roll of the dice.
>You knew nothing from pony movies, you just thought the cover looked interesting.
>Annabelle takes more interest in the freshly-opened cider you offer her.
>"Thanks."
>She chugs it all in one go, then sits heavily on the couch beside you, leaving you a fair amount of room.
>"Well, what are you waiting for? Put the movie in!"
>It turns out to be a detective drama.
>You have a cider while watching, Annabelle has three.

>Annabelle isn't as interested in the movie as she is in telling you about herself.
>Recent college graduate, working a crap job while she slings her resume around, looking for work in her field, Dendrology.
>Apparently she's an Arborist. Makes sense.
>A ding announces that the washer has reached the end of its cycle.
>"Oh, give me a hand with the laundry okay? Get it? Hand?"
>Sighing, you pause the movie.
>Yeah, you got it, and you've heard dozens of variations on that joke since your arrival in Equestria.
"Where's the dryer?"
>"Who can afford a dryer? I do it the old-fashioned way, here."
>She leads you through her room and opens the oversize window, revealing a clothesline on the balcony outside.
>"Ta-da-a!"
>She reaches into her closet and pulls out a basket of clothespins.
>With a shrug, you help her hang up the laundry to dry.
>No expensive appliance, cuts the electric bill.
>Not bad, actually.
>Returning to the couch, you produce one of the bottles of good stuff you got.
>Her eyes light up. "I haven't had this before, how adventurous of you!"
>She goes and gets a couple of glasses from the kitchen and sits down a little closer to you this time.
>You pour about half a glass each.
>She picks hers up, and with a simple, "Salut!" downs it all in one go.
>Darn if you're going to be out-drunk tonight.
>You slam yours.
>Big mistake.
>That stuff was far stronger than you had suspected, and Annabelle pats you sympathetically on the back through the resulting coughing fit.
>As you head to the fridge for a cider chaser, she brims her glass and drinks again, then refills yours.
>Annabelle gets up and stops the movie.
>Returning with your chaser, you notice your refilled glass with curiosity.
>But already your head is telling you that this is a good idea.
>Annabelle eggs you on, and you manage to drain your glass without hacking up a lung this time.
>She cheers you on as you follow that with another cider chaser, trying to blunt the aftertaste.

>You are now feeling no pain, and neither, apparently, is Annabelle.
>She keeps her eyes on you and giggles coquettishly at nearly everything you say.
/I'm funny./
"I jus' liked th' look of this bottle, I don' knowhut it is..."
>You hold up the mostly empty bottle, examining the amber liquid inside.
"What is it?"
>She laughs.
/I'm a smash. I'm smashed./
>"It's Bourbon."
"I's cert'nly strong Bourbon..."
>She giggles again.
/I'm still funny./
"C'n I ask you sumthin' kinda personal?"
>"Sure!"
"You seem like a great gal..."
>Annabelle blushes at this, taking another drink to hide her smile.
"Howcum yer BF broke up wi' you?"
>"Hmm. I guess he was tired of looking up to me."
>She lapses into a giggling fit.
"Wa-wasn' he a giraffe too?"
>"No, he was a pony."
"Oh, I see."
>"Well, you're starting to."
>She shifts her weight on the couch, turning towards you and moving closer.
>"You wanna see something else?"
>You shrug, the alcohol sloshing around your brain making anything seem like a really good idea right now.
"Sure."
>Annabelle lowers her head to your level.
"Whatchoo doin'?"
>"Just watch," she tells you, with a mischievous smile.
>She sticks out her tongue.
/Well, that's different.../
>It's a dark purplish color, almost black. It's wide and flat, and the tip twitches a bit.
>Then she slowly sticks it out further.
/What.../
>The tip still twitching, her tongue continues to emerge.
/Holy.../
>She keeps her eyes on your face as her tongue finally stops, about an inch short of your lap.
>Which seems to have pitched a tent.
"Whoa... Um, how long is..."
>You trail off, fascinated by the appendage.
"Can I touch it?"
>Her eyes widen a bit, and she nods, smiling.
>Extending a finger, you carefully feel the slick surface.
>It's a little rougher than yours, and much wetter.
>As you near the tip, it suddenly curls tightly around your finger.
>There's some muscle in that thing.
>Annabelle draws in her tongue until your hand comes into contact with her muzzle, then releases your finger.

"That is some neat trick."
>In fact, that was kinda awesome.
>More than awesome, if the raging boner in your pants is any indication.
>She leans in, placing her mouth next to your ear.
>"It wants to touch you too," she whispers.
>Part of your brain has serious reservations about where this is going.
>But that part of your brain is also thoroughly hammered, so another part of your brain that thinks this can't possibly be a bad thing propels your decision.
"Oh, it does?"
>Her fuzzy lips momentarily grip your earlobe, producing a blush.
>Annabelle sits back a bit, looking into your eyes.
>"Would you like to play a game?"
"Games are fun..."
>She rises from the couch and goes into her room.
>"Take off your shirt." she calls from the other room.
>Your brain, swimming in booze, whispers,
/Doo-oo-oo ee-ee-eet!/
>So you undo a couple of buttons and reach behind your head and grab your collar, pulling your shirt off over your head.
>Annabelle comes back into the living room, carrying a strip of cloth.
>"Put this on."
>You take the proffered strip of cloth and look at it, comprehension having deserted you.
"Put it on where?"
>Annabelle laughs.
>"Over your eyes, silly."
>This raises alarms in your head, but they are well-dulled by booze.
"What for?"
>"It's part of the game," she replies, studying you through half-lidded eyes.
"Okay."
>You carefully put on the blindfold, excited and curious to see where this game is going.
>"Okay, now just sit back and relax. Whatever happens, don't move."
"Why not?"
>She giggles again.
>"My game, my rules."
>You lean back on the couch and get comfortable, and then wait.
>You can't see what she's doing, but you feel her breath wash across your skin.
>And every so often, a little tickle from the hairs on her muzzle.
>There, on the chin.
>And another, on your shoulder.
>Ah, left nipple. That gets your motor running.
>And now on your belly.

>The first assault begins at your navel, making you shiver as her warm, soft, and very damp tongue trails up the middle of your torso.
>It leaves a very damp trail up your sternum to your neck, finally finishing with a flick at your jawline.
>After a moment, she blows air on the trail she left, producing a chilly sensation.
>You feel a tickle at your shoulder, and the second assault curls under your armpit, emerging behind your shoulder to tickle your neck.
>She squeezes your shoulder a bit, while the tip probes at the muscle where your neck and shoulder join.
>As she slowly retracts her tongue, you are rock hard.
>A tickle at your ear, and she nibbles your earlobe with her plush lips.
>Then the third assault slithers slowly under your chin, curling up to tease your earlobe on the other side.
>You hear her moan softly into your ear.
/Wow, is she getting off on this?/
/Because I sure am!/
>Again her long tongue slowly withdraws, leaving behind copious amounts of drool.
>Another lick unexpectedly crosses your lips, the muscular tongue forcing its way between them, but stopping at your teeth.
>The fact that you can't see her pick her next target makes this incredibly arousing to you.
>You swear you could smash diamonds with your pecker right now.
>The next assault curls around your right breast, the coil constricting, shrinking, until it pinches your nipple in its moist, sinewy grasp.
>You hear her moan again, as her breath warms your chest.
>The twitching tip of her tongue touches the side of your abdomen, just under the ribs, and probes as it slowly curls around to your back.
>Again, it slowly withdraws.
>Only to reappear at your elbow, coiling around your arm, and slowly sliding up to your shoulder.
>As the warm muscle retreats from your skin again, you hear her giggle.
>"What do you think of my little game so far?"
"Keep playing"

>"Okay, Anon, remember now, no moving."
"Right."
>"Ready for 'hard mode'?"
"What's hard mode?"
>Without another word, she sticks her long tongue down your pants.
>You gasp, but manage to keep mostly still as the moist, muscular appendage follows the crease of your thigh inwards, and curls under your balls.
>From there, it slowly drags up, coating your scrotum and penis in warm saliva, before emerging from your waist band.
"Heh, 'hard mode', huh?"
>"It's just getting started..."
>Once again the probing tongue invades your waistband, feeling along slowly until it encounters the base of your penis.
>Then it starts to coil about your shaft, slithering slowly up its length.
>You let out a moan, and find it answered by Annabelle's excited giggle.
>You grip the couch cushions to try and keep still.
>The tip of the tongue rubs across your tip, before the slippery invader begins its slow retreat.
>Whatever her game is here, you can tell she's going to win it soon.
>Her muzzle tickles your ear, followed by a flick of her tongue at your earlobe.
>"Help me out here," she whispers.
"What about the rules?"
>"Temporarily suspended," she breathes into your ear, then traces another slow lick from the hollow of your throat along your jawline.
>"Please..."
>Welp, she was going to win anyways.
>Reaching down, you undo your belt, open your fly, and shove your pants and underwear to your knees.
>"Thanks," she whispers into your other ear, giving it a flick with her tongue.
>"Rules back on."
>Taking a deep breath, you settle against the sofa cushions, trying to relax.
>As if you could relax with her hot breath and the tickle of her muzzle slowly, teasingly, descending along your chest.
>And then her tongue curls slowly about your glans, squeezing tightly, before her soft lips descend over your shaft.
>She exerts quite a suction, and you lose it immediately.
>She doesn't spill a drop.
>As you descend from ecstasy into bliss, you feel her muzzle at your ear again.
>"I win..."

>You wake up the next morning, in your own bed, feeling like the floor of a taxicab.
>Which is to say your head is pounding, and there is dried saliva all over, making you feel slightly uncomfortable.
>You can smell coffee though, so that's something.
>And, memories of last night's shenanigans begin to filter into your consciousness.
>Whatever you were drinking last night, it was powerful stuff.
>You stand and wait for the room to stop spinning, then head into the bathroom and manage to have a shower without puking.
>Putting on some fresh clothes, you head for the kitchen.
>Annabelle is humming to herself, holding a steaming mug of coffee.
"Good morning."
>Annabelle starts, her cheeks flushing, and drops the mug into the sink.
>"Oh, ah, er... good morning. Um, coffee?"
"Please."
>You shuffle to the table and sit down.
>Whatever reserved nature last night's drinking had overwhelmed in Annabelle seems to have returned in force.
>"Errm... about last night..."
>She puts a coffee cup in front of you, then goes to pour herself a new cup to replace the one that broke.
>"I think I may have gotten a little tipsy, and done something to make you uncomfortable, so I hope you can forgive--"
"Actually I kinda liked it."
>Another coffee mug bites the dust.
>"Really?"
"Sure, I mean, what harm done? That was probably the best night I've had since coming to Equestria."
>Her head swoops into your view as she gives you a hug.
>"So that wasn't too weird, or anything like that?"
"Oh it was weird, but really, really, erm, ahem."
>You're not sure what a good word for this situation would be.
"Don't worry yourself about it."
>"Okay."
>She straightens up and heads back over to the counter.
>"So, what would you like for breakfast?"
>You sip your coffee.
"Something simple, please. My stomach isn't too happy with me right now."
>She giggles.
>"I know how you feel."