First Time Massage (Spitfire)

>I still don't like this place.
>But that's fine, I've found ways of keeping myself entertained, even mannaged to land myself a job.
>A masseuse.
>I never thought I'd get paid to rub on people all day, much less ponies.
>I just needed to learn the finer points of dealing with pegasi and I was set.
>So I've got this sweet gig in Canterlot, ponies from all over come just to experience 'Those Hands'.
>Ponies from every walk of life have come to me just to see what all the fuss was about.
>I know the Wonderbolts enjoy it, save for their Captain, she hasn't come in yet.
>Soarin definitely comes in the most, he gives the biggest tips too.
>Though the way he looks at me before and after is odd.
>I've got some suspicions about him.
>I'll get somebody new maybe once a week or so who's 'heard so much about me'.
>I can usually expect them back in two or three months.
>With the regular touring season over, the Wonderbolts have mostly gone back to training and that's when I get the majority of them.
>Today was especially nice.
>Misty Fly came in about an hour and a half before I closed for the night.
>She had said something about working for them oficially.
>That wouldn't be too bad.
>Guaranteed position, decent wage, though it would reduce the number of newcomers I get to meet.
>When I finished, I was showing Misty out when I noticed another pony in the waiting room.
>"Hey Cap, finally came in to experience the magic?"
>I guess this was the esteemed Captain of the Wonderbolts.
>"Tell anypony and you'll be doing laps all day tomorrow. Got it?"
>She certainly didn't sound happy about the situation, perhaps this was a bet she lost?
>Misty Fly snickered and made for the door, leaving the two of us behind.
>"So what'll it be Miss Spitfire? Deep tissue? Swedish? Nuru?"
>"Just give me 30 minutes, whatever it takes to relieve sore muscles."
>She didn't bother looking at me, just got up and walked into the room and laid on the table belly down.
>I went into the room with her and dimmed the lights a bit.
>It always helps to relax clients a bit.
>I noticed she hadn't taken off the jacket she'd been wearing.
>"You know, generally clothes are removed for this sort of thing."
>She didn't bother giving a reply, opting to simply throw the jacket off toward the far wall.
>Not in a good mood it seems.
>Hopefully some conversation could change that.
>"So. Spitfire huh? I've heard a lot about you."
>"Yup."
>I grabbed the massage oil and squeezed a bit on my hands to make sure it was still warm.
>Content with the temperature, I trailed a good amount down her back watching as she visibly tensed.
>"It's fine, just oil for the massage, helps the coat too."
>Again she didn't respond, instead trying her level best to relax.
>"First time?"
>I noticed her give a small nod, made sense, first timers are always nervous.
>"It's ok, first time is always bit awkward."
>I placed my hands just above her tail and felt her twitch from the pressure.
>"You're carrying a lot of stress around, you know that? You've got knots for days down here."
>This got a different response though, this time she let out a sigh that almost sounded upset.
>"I know that sound, what's bugging you?"
>She sighed again while I began to knead the muscles at the small of her back.
>"I never do this kind of thing. I don't likes ponies touching me..."
>"Well I guess it's good that I'm not a pony, isn't it?"
>I could almost feel her eyes rolling at the response.
>"I'm well aware of that fact. I just don't like anything touching me, how about that?"
>I couldn't help but chuckle a bit, was she always this worked up?
>I could feel the knots slowly fading away, so I began to work farther up toward her wings.
>It always amazed me how the pegasi had such soft fur yet underneath was pure lean muscle.
>Not like the unicorns, they always had a little layer of fat.
>Perhaps from the lack of physical effort they put in anything.
>Spitfire's physique was remarkable compared to the others though.
>It almost felt like I was trying to mold rocks into clay.
>I almost hadn't noticed just how quiet it had gotten.
>I don't know why, but I had completely forgotten to turn on the music.
>I retracted my hands and wiped them on the towel hanging from my waistband.
>"Give me a second, I forgot to turn the music on."
>I turned around and put the needle on the record I kept in the room and turned it on.
>Making sure the volume was just a little above barely audible before I went back to work.
>As soon as I started again, the music started, filling the room with light melodic flutes.
>The music certainly seemed to help her demeanor.
>So I tried some conversation again.
>"What is it that's actually bugging you? It certainly can't be just the thought of being touched."
>Again, Spitfire sighed, albeit a bit more content than before.
>"Being the Captain has its perks, don't get me wrong. But the stress that comes with the title is insane."
>I could certainly understand, being in charge of a group puts you on the spot.
>"I can't go one single day without yelling at one of the newbies or smoking one of the flyers on the main team."
>I didn't know what smoking was, but I didn't say, opting to listen."
>"Soarin acts like he's the best on the team, but I'm sorry, being the best doesn't mean anything if it affects the entire team!"
>She was definitely opening up now, venting her frustration more than anything.
>"I need all my flyers to cooperate and maintain cohesion, I don't care if Soarin is out Colt Cuddling, but he doesn't need to brag about his 'stamina' to the rest of us."
>Well... That certainly confirmed my suspicions.
>I snickered a bit and she paused in her rant. "What's so funny?"
>"That explains why he tips me so well."
>She didn't say anything right away, probably surprised she had divulged that information to a stranger.
>I had just finished massaging the area below her wings and moved to start working on them.
>She had no idea the surprise she was in for.
>I got more of the oil and made sure to spread a good amount just around the base of her wings.
>It was always best to do this with pegasi due to the sensitivity of the area.
>I set the bottle back in its place and softly began to work the oil up onto the base and put underneath her wings.
>The way she seemed to completely relax was pretty amusing.
>Every pegasus I had practically loved me when I worked on their wings, and she was no exception.
>Though not every single one of them moaned quite like she did at first... That was a pleasant surprise.
>"Well well well, seems like a certain somepony enjoyed that."
>I didn't hear what exactly she said as she was grumbling into the table.
>But I had a feeling it was something along the lines of 'Just shut up.'
>"Soarin likes stallions and you like wing play. Everybody has their thing, it's totally fine."
>I admit, the way I was smiling I looked like a complete idiot, so I'm glad she couldn't see me.
>"I even know what Misty Fly likes..."
>She didn't say it, but she was dying to know now with how her ears perked up and her wings stiffened a bit more.
>I ran my hands back out from under hear wings and slowly kneaded my way up to her neck and began massaging her withers and the bottom of her neck.
>I slowly moved up to her ear and whispered.
>"Misty fly..."
>Her ear twitched again.
>"Likes."
>I heard a sharp intake of breath and grinned.
>"Hot oil and being tied up."
>*FWAP*
>Her wings sprang quickly to attention at the mention of Misty's kink.
>"I figured that might get your attention."
>The way she whimpered was pretty cute, I gotta say.
>The way this pony transformed from hardass to putty in my hands was wonderful.
>"I guess you also get off on fantasizing about a couple of your teammates judging by your reaction. Am I right?"
>She didn't respond right away, but every pony was predictable, in this situation, a silence was usually a yes.
>An extremely embarrassed yes.
>Probably the best part of my job.
>"By the way, if you're wondering, my name's Anon. Be sure to tell your friends about me. And if you want me to keep working on your wings, you might want to let them relax a bit."
>I maintained my work on her neck as her wings began relaxing.
>The music hadn't hanged much, but I knew the next song fairly well.
>An acoustic string bit with singing in some language I didn't speak.
>Vaguely reminded me of scenes from fantasy movies back in my old life.
>She seemed to enjoy it as well as her wings practically fell off splaying themselves across the table.
>The ultimate state of relaxation for pegasi.
>As soon as their wings go limp, they're defenseless.
>Tracing back to where I had been previously, I noticed every knot and tense muscle from the top of her neck, to her wings and down to her tail were all practically gone.
>This was usually the halfway point, and even though she asked for half an hour, it had already been 25 minutes since we started.
>But I didn't mind working late like this.
>Once more I began to work on the base of her wings and underneath on the most sensitive parts.
>All the while, Spitfire softly moaned and whimpered in a state of bliss.
>Using the palm of my hand and my fingers, I rubbed all along the wrist of her left wing taking care not to apply too much pressure and damage the bone.
>After I was satisfied with the left, I performed the same action with the right.
>If I didn't know better, I would've thought she was dead with the lack of reaction.
>Once I finished with that wing, I had to break the bad news to her.
>"Okay Spitfire, you might not like this..."
>A series of mumbling indicated a response, but I didn't hear it very well.
>So I simply assumed she had heard me.
"I'm going to need you to roll over on your back."
>She groaned with obvious displeasure. She REALLY liked me working on her wings.
>It was almost childish the way she sat up, looked at me and laid back down.
>I reached to the cupboard just below the counter I kept the oils and record player on and pulled out a fresh cool pillow.
>"Lift your head up real quick."
>She obeyed and I slid it under to give her some support so I could continue properly.
>I rubbed my thumbs lightly behind her ears to make relax her again.
>It worked almost instantly as she let out a sigh and sank into the pillow.
>Content with this, I grabbed the oil once more and trailed a bit up from her chest and onto her neck.
>Just as I had done before, I kneaded and worked my way into the muscles of her neck, chest and shoulders.
>I made zig-zag motions with my palms across her chest to really dig into the deep tissues.
>She had definitely done quite a bit of running with how much compact muscle was contained here and in her shoulders.
>I had figured there'd be much less with the ability to fly and all.
>But that didn't matter, I had a job to do and I was going to do it.
>She was actually smiling now, compared to when she first walked in.
>I definitely preferred this side of her.
>It hadn't really registered before, but now that I got a good look, she was obviously very pretty.
>Up until now, I really hadn't seen any of the ponies in a matter of how attractive they could be.
>She smelled really nice too, and I know it wasn't the oils I was using.
>The oil didn't smell of cinnamon with a hint of ozone and petrichor.
>Truth be told, it was absolutely delightful, I didn't even notice that I had stopped working until she piped up.
"Uh, Anon? You alright?
>Any confidence I had earlier quickly dissipated.
"Oh yeah, sorry. You... You smell really nice. I got a little distracted."
>"HA! Who's the embarrassed one now?"
"Yeah, yeah. It's not my fault you smell nice."
>She smirked knowing she had won that tiny battle.
>She wasn't about to win this war, however, I still had some tricks up my sleeve.
>After I finished with her chest and forelegs I moved to her side, opting to save the hooves for last.
>That was another signature part of my services.
>I coated my hands with another good amount of oil and took to massaging her flanks.
>Just like the rest of her body, they were nearly stone hard.
>Nothing I couldn't handle though.
>It still confused me how the cutie mark of a pony could be just a tad more sensitive than the rest of their flank.
>Just another area to focus a little bit more on.
>As I kneaded the sinuous fibers beneath her coat, I heard a slight giggle.
"What?"
>She craned her neck up to look at me.
>"You're the first pon-thing? Oh whatever. You're the first one that's touched my flank without hesitation.
>I had completely forgotten that some ponies considered their cutie marks to be a bit more intimate than the rest of their body.
"Ah, well I've never really had any trouble with it. Just kinda came naturally. Also, the word you were looking for is person, but it's ok, most ponies don't know that."
>She let her head sink back into the pillow and I continued.
>I made my way around and began rubbing the inner portion of her leg, making sure not to go too low and risk a lawsuit.
>Though there was some newfound temptation to do so.
>I suppose she felt the same as her leg twitched a little in response.
>50 minutes had passed, definitely over her half hour request, but I wasn't going to charge extra.
>It was my fault after all since I was taking my time.
>I was certainly enjoying this a lot more than usual.
>After I finished with that leg, I again repeated the steps on her other leg and eliciting the same response once I got to the inside.
>The music ended around the time I finished on her leg.
>I was almost done anyway.
>There was only one thing left for me to do, and it was probably the easiest part.
>I took my spot near the top of the table once more, making sure my hands were dry.
>Taking her front hooves in my hand, I began tracing patterns with my thumbs along the bottom.
>Just like most pony quirks, I didn't understand why it worked so well, but it did.
>She was still laying there smiling blissfully.
>She really needed this, she might be the first who ended up like this after nearly an hour.
>Heck, even Soarin never was quite this happy.
>I had finished with her front hooves and was nearly done with her rears when a thought occurred to me.
'She might become a regular now.'
>That thought alone was almost enough to keep me grinning until I finished and knew I had to let her know the session was over.
"Well Spitfire, looks like we're done here."
>She let out a groan, clearly upset with the news.
>"Really?"
"Yeah, there's not much more I can do without likely breaking some laws and you asked for thirty minutes and ended up with an hour."
>She sat up once more and yawned.
>"Well that sucks, I'm gonna need to come here a LOT more now."
>I helped her off the table and led her back to the desk where I could process her bill.
"I'm not going to charge you for the extra thirty minutes, consider it on the house."
>She probably wouldn't have cared either way, but it was my selfish reasons that caused it.
>"Well in that case, how about this. You come over to my place tomorrow night and we can work something out. Sound good?"
>She slid a small bag of bits onto the counter and reached for a pen and paper that had been left on the desk.
>She scribbled something on it then tucked it underneath the bag and trotted out the door without giving me a chance to reply.
>I picked up the bag and looked at the note she had written. Turns out it was just her address.
>At that point I only had one question.
"How the hell am I gonna get to Cloudsdale?

Pt.2

>To say I didn't thoroughly enjoy myself last night would be a complete lie.
>Spitfire is definitely my favorite customer.
>Saying I wasn't anticipating what awaited me all day today would also be a total lie.
>My first course of action when I got up was to find a way to get to Cloudsdale.
>Fun fact: I had a feeling I couldn't walk on clouds, and I was right.
>So coughing up a good portion of my savings account in order to do so was definitely a calculated risk.
>Not to mention transport to that city in the clouds didn't come cheap either.
>Think extra baggage on Delta Airlines expensive.
>Makes me rethink my motto of 'cardio ruins gains' being 6'2" and 210lbs back home, I don't even know the measurements and weight system here.
>All they told me is that I was really heavy and they'd have to charge me extra.
>So it's safe to say I depleted a good quarter of my savings just to go see a pony who invited me over.
>Color me thrilled.
>My next priority was to actually find her place, and wouldn't you know it, Pegasi that'd never seen a human aren't exactly keen on sticking around to help out.
>By the time I actually found the street Spitfire lived on, it was already very late.
>Mostly due to my attempts at reading the signs in the dark.
>Though I must admit, the lights illuminating the cloudy walkway along the apartment complex helped significantly in identifying which building was hers.
>The building certainly didn't look very extravagant, granted I had no idea how to judge the visual appeal of clouds shaped into a building.
>No lights seemed to be on in any of the apartments either, I had guessed that she'd already gone to bed but figured I'd try anyway.
>I might add that I'm glad they decided to incorporate stairs, otherwise I would have had a very hard time making it up to the 3rd floor where her Apartment resided.
>Unit 308.
>I took a deep breath, raised my fist to knock and put it straight through the cloud door.
"Well fuck... How do you fix that?"
>I looked around for a bit trying to figure out a way to let her know I was here.
>I already punched a hole through the door, I could walk through but that definitely didn't feel right at all.
>Then I saw it, and mentally scolded myself. There was a plainly solid doorbell right next to what passed for a doorknob here.
>Taking another deep breath I slowly reached to gingerly press the button.
>Thankfully I didn't put another hole in the wall, but damn was that doorbell loud, I thought it might wake up the whole building.
>Somebody had told me long ago to wait 10 seconds and leave if there was no reply when you knocked on somebodies door.
>I waited for an intentionally long 15 seconds to no avail, right when I went to turn around a light shining through the hole brought me back to the door.
>I could just faintly hear hoofsteps approaching the door.
>I did what I could to seem somewhat presentable and waited for the door to open.
>The door cracked a bit and more light shone through, I put on the best casual smile I could.
>"Hello?"
>It wasn't her. Rather a very old pegasus mare that shook slightly as she stood there looking at me.
"Spitfire?
>"No deary, she's down the hall in 303, this here's 308.
>I reached into my pocket and sure enough, it read 303.
>I just punched a hole into the door of an elderly mare.
"I'm so sorry ma'am, I thought I had the right unit. I uh... Accidentally put a hole in your door too."
>"Oh that's fine."
>She smiled and shook the door back and forth a bit and I watched the hole slowly close and return to how it was.
>"See? Good as new. Now go on, git. Go see your little marefriend."
"Yes ma'am, you have a goodnight."
>I awkwardly backed away before I jogged 5 doors down to the correct room.
>Checking to make sure there was a doorbell this time, I again found it in the same spot as the last one.
>I quickly pressed the button, gave myself a quick once over and took a deep breath.
>She opened the door almost instantly.
>Had she been waiting by the door all night?
>"You're here! I thought you'd never show up. You're late though, what took you so long?"
>It was nice to see her again even though it had only been a day.
>Had she already affected me that much?
"Sorry about that, I had a pretty hard time finding the place."
>She motioned me inside and closed the door behind me as I entered.
>It was beautiful to say the least.
>Sure, she was very minimalist with her decor, but that didn't matter. Her choice in furnishing was very good.
>Everything blended and contrasted perfectly with the cloud walls with various shades of white and light blues.
"Nice place, Spitfire."
>"Thanks, I try to keep it clean and tidy. Speaking of which, take those things off. You're tracking in dirt."
>I looked down and sure enough, there were my footprints in stark contrast to the pure white surface.
>How did you clean a cloud floor anyhow?
>This world had a lot of explaining to do.
>I kicked my shoes off and looked up to find Spitfire in the kitchen putting on a pair of oven mitts."
>"Go take a seat over there."
>Spitfire motioned with a mitted hoof to the dining room table as she spoke.
>I obliged and sat on one of the noticeably small chairs.
>Of course they wouldn't really have anything my size, hell I was surprised it could even hold my weight.
>The yellow mare had entered the dining room with a baking pan balanced on one hoof and set it gently on the dining room table.
>After that, she set her oven mitt down and took a spot at the opposite side of the table.
>"I tried to keep it warm, but the oven only goes so low and I didn't want to risk burning it."
>I looked into the pan and took a whiff.
>Kinda hard to tell exactly what it was.
>"I know that look, don't worry. It's just a casserole. Nothing special really, as I'm sure you know, I don't exactly have the time to make big extravagant dinners."
>It certainly smelled fine, kind of hard to figure out what all was in it. At least cheese and pasta seemed to be the primary ingredients.
"It smells pretty good. But you didn't have to make me dinner or anything like that.
>Spitfire gave a dismissive motion with her hoof.
>"No it's fine, I wanted to. To say thanks for being generous last night. Which, by the way, was amazing."
>She smiled.
>Damn she had a pretty smile.
>Well, I suppose if I was going to develop feelings for a pony, it may as well be her.
"Thanks, I do what I can, mostly since it's kinda my job."
>I grabbed a nearby serving spoon and took a bit from the pan and set it on one of the plates she had previously arranged on the table.
>She was watching me with anticipation, I knew it.
>Probably hadn't made dinner for somebody all that often.
>And failed a few times too.
>That must be why she had mentioned not wanting to burn it.
>She was still watching me like a hawk as I grabbed a fork and stabbed at the casserole on my plate.
"Aren't you going to get some?"
>The beautiful yellow pegasus sheepishly grabbed the pan and shoveled a serving onto her plate.
>The anticipation was probably killing her as I took a bite.
>Saying it was absolutely amazing would be an insult to her apparent skill.
>After I had swallowed I simply stared at the plate in awe.
>She looked almost afraid to hear what I was about to say.
"Spitfire, this is absolutely delicious!"
>I couldn't help myself after that.
>As soon as she breathed a sigh of relief, I was digging in and savoring every morsel.
>Damn it was good, what all did she put in this?
>I'd probably need to start paying her to come cook for me, because I couldn't do that to save my life.
>"You really like it, Anon?"
>Did I like it?
>This was the best food I'd had in years! And I didn't even know what it was.
>Finally managing to stop the constant intake of food, I swallowed and looked her dead in the eye.
"How much do I gotta pay you to become my personal cook?"
>That caught her out of left field.
>"Wha? Are you serious?"
"As a heart attack, sister. This is the best damn stuff I've ever had!"
>I'm fairly certain she was paralyzed by confusion when she stopped and stared at me with an eyebrow cocked.
>Her expression then turned deadpan.
>"No way."
"Yes way. How much?"
>She then leaned back in her chair in thought.
>"How often?"
>Was every day too much?
>Probably.
>I leaned forward and pointed my fork at Spitfire.
"How often can you?"
>She took a few minutes to think.
>She did have a pretty busy schedule after all, what with training new recruits, practicing with the team and managing most everything the team did.
>Then there was the touring season where they traveled.
>If we worked out a compromise, that would be hard times ahead for sure.
>"Well, I'm a busy mare as you already know. I could possibly drop by once a week or so, say 50 pits per meal? Or I cou-"
>I didn't let her finish.
"Deal."
>"I'm not done negotiating, mister. Don't you wanna hear the alternative?"
>Could she really make a better deal than that? She must think so.
>"Or, I could swing by every day when we're not touring."
>This was sounding expensive already.
>"But for every meal I cook,"
>She must be driving a really hard bargain.
>"I'd charge you,"
>100 bits? 150?
>"One massage."
>I was dumbfounded.
"That's it? One massage for one meal?"
>"If you have the ingredients available, yeah. But if you don't, it'll cost extra."
>How much extra?
>She was going for the knockout. I knew it.
>"If I have to go buy them myself, then you have to set me up with a nice hot bath afterward, with the works. I'm talking candles, bubbles, everything."
"You got it. Shake on it?"
>There was never a pony that looked more victorious.
>She looked like she had gotten the entire world to surrender to her own tiny Army.
>We didn't say much after that, I figured she was mulling the consequences of showing up every day to cook just to get a massage.
>Or she wanted me to shut up and enjoy it before it got cold, either way, I was content.
>When we had both finished, Spitfire quietly got up and collected the plates, then shooed me away into the living room while she cleaned up.
>I would've helped out, but with her independence it likely would have irked her a bit.
>So I spent my time walking around, looking at pictures she had hung or had on display.
>I found one from her younger years where she had won a flying competition.
>She looked overjoyed in the picture, almost on the verge of tears, probably her first win.
>Then there was another where she was posing with a much much older stallion in what looked like a bomber jacket.
>Probably a former Wonderbolt and rolemodel for her growing up.
>He certainly had that 'crusty veteran' look going on.
>There were plenty of pictures serving as mementos to her past.
>Even a fairly weathered looking medal under a picture of the stallion from earlier.
>Had it been a gift?
>Or something she had inherited from him?
>I'd probably find out someday.
>"That's my grandpa, Corsair if you're wondering."
>Spitfire had finished cleaning pretty quickly and caught me gazing at the photo.
>She sauntered into the room and stood next to me, he was a Wonderbolt too, back in the day. I wanted to be just like him when I grew up, and he promised to give me that medal if I ever made Captain."
>The medal certainly gained a whole new level of respect in my eye.
>"But he passed before I made rank, I got that along with some of his old Wonderbolts stuff through his will."
>Spitfire then took the picture to get a better look at it.
>"I wish he could have been there when to pin my rank. But I'm sure wherever he is, he's been looking down at me proud as can be."
>It broke my heart to hear her say that, but to see her succeed like she did was likely all he wanted.
"I know he's proud of you, Spitfire. Though he probably doesn't like all the stress you're under."
>She simply smiled and motioned for me to follow as she walked away.
>We reached what looked to be her bedroom, and just like the living room, everything was simple in a way that conveyed brilliance.
>She had reached into the closet and pulled out the old bomber jacket from the picture.
>"This was his back in the day. They used to wear these instead of the suits we wear today."
>That was certainly something. If she were to put it on the market today, it could fetch her a fortune I had no doubt.
>"I've been thinking of doing a throwback tour of sorts where we wear some of the old uniforms and perform our shows. I think it'd be a good way for us to pay homage to them, the older Wonderbolts. Even try to bring out some of the few that are left and give them one last shot in the spotlight before they go."
>That would certainly be something.
"Spitfire, I can only imagine how honored they would be if you did that."
>She smiled and placed the jacket back in the closet.
>"Yeah, I'd have to clear it through HQ first. I have a feeling they wouldn't exactly jump at the chance since they'd need to shell out the bits to make the uniforms again."
>I could certainly understand that, if the brass in the Wonderbolts were anything like the ones back home, they'd probably laugh her out of the building.
"I think you should go for it. After all, there's not much time left to do that kind of thing."
>"It's mostly a matter of finance to be honest, they don't like to spend money if they don't have to."
>And she hung her head like a deflated balloon.
>Doing what she could for the veterans seemed to be very near and dear to her.
>Then I got an idea.
>Sponsors, get some businesses with some extra bits to sponsor the events in exchange for free advertising.
"Maybe you don't need to go to them for the money after all."
>Spitfire looked at me and cocked her head.
>"What do you mean, Anon?"
"Not if you can get the events to be sponsored."
>The idea had probably never crossed her mind, but now that it was there she had a new light of hope and determination in her eyes.
>Those brilliant orange orbs shining like flames in the night.
>"Anon, you're a genius! Why didn't I think of that?!"
>And then she was airborne.
>If I could measure G forces, I'm sure I would've hit some pretty high numbers as she hit me with a flying hug knocking me off my feet and through the wall behind me.
>Which thankfully was another empty bedroom and not somepony's dwelling.
>With how easily I went through the wall, I was almost sure I would do the same with the floor.
>So I did everything I could to maintain my balnce as I was power hugged by an overly excited pegasus.
>She finally managed to settle down and realized what she had done.
>She scowled at the wall but shrugged it off.
>Though she still hadn't let me go.
>Then she looked back to me and beamed.
>"So, what do you wanna do?"
"I dunno, what is there to do around here?"
>Spitfire started rattling off a long list of things that could be done in Cloudsdale, seeming to forget I couldn't fly through her excitement.
"Those sound great and all, but I don't have wings, remember?"
>"Oh it'll be fine, I can totally carry you!"
"No you can't"
>Thus, a new look of determination was born.
>"How hard could it be?"
>Never had a pony been more wrong in my experience.
>Spitfire wrapped her forelegs around my midsection and began to flap her wings in an attempt to pick me up.
>Then they started to move faster.
>And faster.
>Her speed and effort kept increasing until she nearly sounded like a helicopter.
>After about a minute of intense flapping, she gave up and collapsed on the floor panting heavily.
"Told ya."
>Not having wings severely limits the things you can do in a floating city like Cloudsdale.
>I still wasn't sure I entirely trusted this 'cloud walking spell'.
>How long could such a thing last anyhow?
>I didn't want to wake up plummeting to my death, that's for sure.
>So we settled on something simple, that would keep me rooted in the event it all wore off.
>Sit on the couch, listen to some music and talk.
>Pretty simple really, and I wasn't really liking the idea of going anywhere else to begin with.
>"So what do you want to listen to?"
>I thought for a minute, but couldn't come up with anything.
>The only music I had heard here was what I had on the record at work.
"Well, what do you have?"
>Spitfire took a moment to think as well.
>"What kind of music did you like back home?"
"Just about anything really, except hip-hop and that sorta stuff."
>"Huh... Well that certainly narrows down the choices doesn't it?"
>Spitfire then grabbed a box of records from the cabinet and set them on the coffee table in front of us.
>"Go through that and see if there's anything you like.
>That seemed a fair compromise.
>I took the box in my lap and began thumbing through the individual albums while Spitfire looked over my shoulder.
>The first one in the stack had album art that strongly resembled something 'The Beatles' had done, some kind of road I couldn't remember.
>If they were anything alike, I knew it would be absolute trash, so I skipped it.
>Most of the records she had in the box actually resembled a lot of older music.
>Things that again, were very similar to older stuff back home.
>Copies of groups like 'The Ink Spots', 'Elvis', 'Lynyrd Skynyrd' even 'ZZ Top'.
>A bunch of fairly old stuff that just didn't seem to do the trick.
>At the very end of the stack, I had almost given up hope.
>Until I read what was written on the cover.
>'For Spitfire. XOXO'
>Her groaning behind me said it all, we would listen to this one.
"Care to tell me the story behind this one?"
>I passed her the record and smirked.
>She pinned her ears and frowned.
>"Do I have to?"
"Yes."
>Spitfire rolled her eyes and removed the disk from its sleeve.
>"Ugh, fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."
>She set the record down on the player then set the needle.
>When she was done, she slouched down in the couch and crossed her forelegs.
>"It was a gift. From an old coltfriend."
>She chanced a glance at me then continued.
>"He had an odd taste of music, we had gone to a few concerts together, even though I didn't really fit in."
>The music began to play and it sounded very familiar from the start.
>"I only really went because he had paid for the tickets and I didn't want to be rude, there were quite a few good bands but nothing that I really liked that much. So he got a bunch of different songs he thought I liked and put them on this record."
>I could see where this was going, it was basically a mixtape.
>"Well he hadn't been entirely wrong in my taste, but we broke up after a couple more months together. Haven't listened to it since."
>I was thoroughly interested already, and I liked what I was hearing so far, so I sat back and enjoyed it.
>The first track was practically a mirror replica of 'Hearts Burst into Fire'
>Loved the shit out of that song. I didn't care much at all what it was about, mostly just the guitar-work and the beat is what got me.
>"I really do like this song though..."
>I turned my head and saw her rubbing her hooves nervously.
>"The words, they're pretty nice. That's what I like about it."
>Then I watched as she leaned back, head rocking to the beat and mouthing the words.
>Yeah, totally hasn't listened to it since then.
>I was totally fine watching her get lost in the music.
>It was really nice to see Spitfire seem so into the song.
>I didn't say anything through the entire track, totally content watching and listening.
>After the song had finished, she firmly planted her hoof in her face and grimaced.
>"Here it comes."
>Instantly I knew the song.
>'Lips of an Angel'.
>Was everything here a mirror of what we had back home?
>Certainly seemed that way.
>She almost looked embarrassed by the music and the situation.
>The stallion had certainly been a romantic in his own right.
>Albeit a bit of a cheesy one.
>Still, he had pinned down her taste fairly well from the looks of it.
>Although her collection of music was very different.
>The record had done a tremendous job of bringing back old memories.
>That went for the both of us.
>The song had ended and she took a deep breath.
>"Okay, this next one is really good, I have to admit. It just gets me pumped up!"
>Right when the music started, her head was bobbing.
>Again, another doppelganger, the third track was unmistakeably 'The Greatest Generation'.
>I could see the other reason she liked this song so much.
>Who the heck was this stallion she had been with anyway?
>It was almost like he had made this record for me as well.
>I'd like to find out what exactly the deal was there.
>Because this was a very odd coincidence.
>However, I dismissed it and sat enjoying the music.
>I really missed this kinda stuff.
"Spitfire, I may need to steal this album from you. Just saying."
>"Good luck Anon, I'd fight you for it."
"Yeah, we'll see about that. He's got good taste though, you can't deny that."
>I looked at her again and watched her eyes gloss over.
>"Yeah, I suppose you're right... Wonder what he's doing these days."
>She seemed lost in thought for a while after that.
>A series of tracks played through where we didn't say anything.
>Every single one was something from home that I distinctly remembered.
>'Nymphetamine Fix', 'Like a Stone', hell even 'Adrenalize' had been done.
>Made me wonder if there was some weird time based universe stuff going on that would go completely over my head.
>It didn't really matter though, because the last track had ended and we just sat together in silence.
>"That really takes me back."
>She was smiling, one hell of a nostalgia trip.
>"To think I almost started dressing like he did so I'd stop getting those looks weird looks at concerts."
>I could only imagine how that'd look.
>It had me wondering a bit just what Spitfire would look like all decked out like some 90's Grunge shit.
"Well I guess we'll never have the pleasure of seeing that will we?"
>She laughed.
>Damn she had a pretty laugh.
>She seriously needed to take it down a notch, a guy could only take so much of a good thing.
>"You want something to drink?"
>What was this all about?
>Offering me a drink out of nowhere.
"Yeah, sure. What do you have?"
>She smirked and trotted off into the kitchen.
>"Well, that depends, are you old enough to drink?"
"No, I am but a mere child trapped in the body of a man. Of course I can drink!"
>I was dripping with sarcasm.
"Surprise me."
>Now that I think about it, I never even knew alcohol was a thing here.
>I really needed to get out more.
>I could hear some light clinking going on in the kitchen and wondered what she was going to bring out.
>Sure enough, not long after she had finished causing a ruckus, Spitfire came back into the main room with a bottle and two small glasses with ice in them.
"What's that?"
>She placed everything on the table then came back around to join me on the couch.
>I noticed she had taken a spot considerably closer than last time.
>"Oh nothing special, just some hard cider I got last fall in Ponyville."
>It smelled like straight up apple juice.
"Does this even have alcohol in it?"
>She poured a glass and passed it to me.
>"Find out for yourself."
>That smug confidence.
>Could it really be that strong?
>I put the glass to my mouth, sipped a bit then swallowed.
>And it burned like hell.
"Holy shit, that seriously is strong."
>Oh she was so smug.
>I set the glass back on the table, and leaned back.
"Spit, where the hell did you get that stuff?"
>She was still eyeing me with that smug look.
>"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."
>Really? We were using cliche lines now?
"Fine, if you don't want to tell me, I'll just get the information out of you."
>"Oh I seriously that."
>That confidence would be her undoing.
>"I'm not on your massage table this time, and I'm a lot more resistant to your tactics, mister."
>Oh how wrong she was.
>I waited for Spitfire to take a drink then set her glass down before I launched my attack.
>She tried to get away, but I had caught her with her hooves tied.
>Thus, began the tickling.
>Her hooves flailed wildly as she shrieked and tried to bat my hands away.
>As soon as one hand was gone, the other took its place.
>"Anon! Ahahaha, STOPPIT!"
>Her protests fell on deaf ears.
>I wouldn't relent until I got the information I needed.
"Just tell me where you got it and you're free!"
>She had been laughing so much she hardly had time to breathe.
>"NO! *GASP* NEVER!"
"If you say so."
>Now was the time to change my tactic.
>While she still gulped lungfuls of air, I dove in for the raspberry.
>She never saw it coming.
>"Bwah?! Ewww no! *GASP* STAAAAHP!"
>It's super effective.
>"*GASP* Stop! Stop and I'll tell you!"
>I let up and looked her dead in the eyes, searching for any signs of deceit.
>I kept her pinned however, there was no way I'd let her out of my grasp otherwise.
>Even if my methods were unorthodox.
>"Oooooh you are in so much trouble when you let me go."
>Why would you tell me that?
"That just means I can't let you go."
>My hands were at the perfect spot on either side of her ribs to start tickling.
>It took about another minute for Spitfire to catch her breath again.
>"Ok, fine. You really wanna know?"
>I nodded.
>I needed to know.
>"I got it from..."
>She squinted her eyes, furrowed her brow and craned her neck forward then whispered.
>"Your mother."
>Alright, no more Mr. Nice guy.
>I started tickling her again, this time with a purpose, she would either tell me or die from laughter.
>Whichever came first.
>She shrieked and giggled, but I didn't care.
>Oh what a wonderful sound.
>There was no negotiating this time.
>She flailed more and more, each time digging herself a little bit deeper in between the cushions of the couch.
>"Anooooooon! I'm gonna pee! *GASP* STOPPIT!"
>Then so it shall be.
>"Just tell me, and you're free."
>It really was that easy.
>Her shoulders and wings were pinned between the cushions now, escape was impossible.
>At least, that's what I thought until a wild hoof out of my right suddenly appeared and clocked me in the temple.
>I saw stars.
>My vision went white.
>My head hit the table.
>Then I was out cold.
>When I finally came to, my vision was blurry and my my head was pounding.
"Holy shit, Spit. The fuck did you do?"
>She had been hovering over me like a concerned mother.
>Obviously it was her, but it was so hard to distinguish any features that I decided to just close my eyes.
>"Ohmygosh, Anon. Are you ok? I'm sooo sorry, I didn't mean to hit you!"
>Then her voice turned from worried to full lecture mode.
>"But I told you to stop, and you kept going! So this is what you get!"
>She had a point there.
>"Oh gosh, I really am sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?"
>I thought about it a moment, but I couldn't really think of anything.
>That really hurt, who would have thought getting kicked by a pony could hurt so much.
>Granted, smashing my face into the table probably hadn't helped.
>Then I had a wonderful idea,
>Drink the pain away.
"Hey Spit... Can you hand me that glass of whatever it is?"
>"Yeah sure, here."
>I heard her shuffle around and slide the the glass along the table.
>I reached out to feel for it as she placed it in my hand.
>I sat up as best I could, then slammed the entire drink.
>Shit burned like I was washing my mouth with molten metal.
>It worked wonders.
"Can I get another?"
>I chanced opening my eyes again, they had only gotten a little less blurry.
>Spitfire grabbed the bottle and filled the glass once more.
>"Be careful with this stuff, it's pretty strong."
>I nodded and took the glass from her, opting to sip it this time around.
>She looked worried, but I knew I would be fine in a few minutes.
"Don't worry about me, I'll be good. Are you ok? You look scared out of your wits."
>She scrunched her muzzle in response.
>"Well yeah, I just knocked you out. I don't wanna be responsible for some kind of brain damage."
>Fair enough.
"Don't. Like I said, I'll be good. C'mon, take a seat and chill out."
>Spitfire eyed me skeptically, I think she was worried I might start tickling her again.
"I'm not gonna tickle you again, learned my lesson there."
>I emphasized the point by patting my leg as if to say 'sit here' since I was sprawled out on the couch.
>Then I remembered that was usually what people did when talking to their dogs and mentally scolded myself.
>Yet to my surprise, Spitfire did.
>She grabbed her glass and took a seat between my legs using my thigh as a backrest.
>"I'm really sorry about that, it just kinda happened."
>She was really beating herself up over this.
"Spitfire, it's fine. I've had worse, believe me."
>I offered a smile to help my case.
>"If you say so... I got the bottle in Ponyville, from the Apple Family. I guess they make the stuff around cider season."
>How hard was that?
>Note to self, hurt yourself to get ponies to talk, they're unbreakable otherwise.
"Wait, you were serious when you said that? I thought you were kidding."
>I swirled the drink around in the glass a bit and took another sniff.
>They did a really good job of making sure it didn't smell as strong as it really was.
>"Yeah, probably didn't help that I egged you on like I had made it up though."
"You're telling me. At least I know you're ticklish though."
>She furrowed her brows at me and sipped her drink.
>"Don't even try it."
>It took 5 minutes before my vision completely cleared up.
>We hadn't said a word, simply sipping our drinks and enjoying each other's company.
>If I said I could stay here forever and be perfectly happy, I wouldn't be lying.
>Then a thought occurred to me.
>Why had she invited me over so soon after meeting me?
>I was nothing all that special, aside from being some otherworldly creature.
>I was just a guy massaging ponies in a world he didn't belong in.
>What was her motivation for doing so?
>I chanced a glance back at the mare in question.
>She was simply staring into her half drained glass with a small smile on her face.
>It looked like she felt the same way about the situation, though without the mental wondering.
>It seems she picked up on the fact I had been staring at her as she turned and met my gaze.
>"I know what you're thinking, Anon."
>She did?"
>"You're wondering why I invited you over here while hardly knowing you."
>She looked back to her glass and traced the rim with her hoof.
>"To be honest, there's a few reasons. But the two most important ones go a little something like this..."
>This was new, did ponies have mind reading abilities too?
>"You don't say it and that's completely fine. But I know how lonely you really are, so does Soarin. He's the one that suggested I go to you for the massage and try breaking you out of that tiny life you lead."
>She sighed and continued.
>"It's not good to do that to yourself, yeah, you get to socialize with tons of ponies every day, but you never formed any true relationships with them. Just a friendly quid pro quo deal."
>She took another drink from her glass and set it on the table then looked back at me, piercing me with those lovely Amber eyes.
>"And the other reason... Well, at first it was just an extension of Soarin's concern, but now, I feel like it's something a bit more than that."
>Was that the reason why Soarin had come over so often?
>He just wanted to be my friend but couldn't get the job done?
>"Anon, I really like you, you're a genuine pony... I'm sorry, person. A genuine person, and I feel like if I get to know you a bit more, I could begin to list a whole plethora of good qualities.
>Her eyes had gone half lidded at this point as she spoke to me.
>"What I'm saying, Anon, is that if it's ok with you..."
>She sighed, she seemed nervous about what she was saying.
>"I'd like to see you more often, and maybe be your special somepony?"
>I was stunned.
>This totally amazing pony was actually wanting to be with me as something more than a friend?
>I couldn't figure out why for the life of me.
>Or what to say for that matter.
>"You don't have to say anything yet. I know this must be a big surprise for you. I know it is for me just saying this."
>She was right about that.
>I was just some masseuse from the human world thrust into living in a world of pastel colored ponies.
>"Just, think about it for me. I know it's a lot to take in."
>And with that, she stopped talking crawled up over my belly and laid her head on my chest.
>I instinctively brought my hand up and began running it through her mane and wrapped my other arm around her, holding her as close as I could.
>I didn't know what to think.
>I know if she had been a human like me, every single part of me would have screamed 'yes' from the get go.
>But this, wasn't quite the same.
>What should I do?
>I really would have to think about it, for a long time.
>But for now, I thought it best just to cuddle with this beautiful little pegasus who had confided her affection for me.
>What was I going to do?
>I sat there in thought, holding onto her like she would disappear if I didn't until I finally went to sleep.


-----------------------------------PART 2 (WIP)-----------------------------------------------------------------------