Lunch was almost over, but Pinkie Pie luckily had a free period immediately after, and so headed there immediately after doing her best to clean herself up. She suspected she still smelled strongly of sex, or at least of milk, but at least her clothes were all in order, she’d thoroughly washed her hands and legs, and—most importantly—she wasn’t leaking anywhere.

She was greeted by a tall, brown-haired man with light brown skin and a long white coat. His light blue eyes twinkled from behind small square glasses as he smiled down at her. “Pinkie Pie! Well, bless my soul, but it’s been years since you were in here every week for scraped knees. You haven’t taken up parkour again, have you?”

Pinkie blushed. She and Dashie had been quite the pair freshman year before she’d discovered the art of the party, but she’d all but forgotten kind Doctor Stable since then. She’d been in and out of his office so often that the Cakes had ended up inviting him over for dinner a few times, but as Pinkie’s injuries had declined, so too had that friendship. Now she was in the uncomfortable position of talking to someone who was, sort of, an innocent childhood mentor, with her hair disheveled and her pussy probably stinking of cum.

To make matters worse, her nipples took this opportunity to harden once again. Pinkie blinked down on them in disbelief. Was she going to feel horny 24/7 now? Or did the thought of Doctor Stable learning about her recent sexcapades just turn her on? Her blush deepened, and she crossed her arms in front of her chest before he could notice. “No,” she said, “I just had a question. A medical question, you know! One of those academic physimological anamatomical questions girls go to doctors for!”

“Oh?” Doctor Stable adjusted his eyeglasses skeptically. “Well, fire away, Pinkie. Or are you old enough that I should be calling you Ms. Pie now?”

Pinkie groaned softly. He wasn’t helping at all, with his stupid politeness and respect and handsome haircut and everything. “You don’t have anyone else here I could talk to, do you, doc?” she asked. “It’s kind of personal.”

Doctor Stable stood up straight. “Ms. Pie, I assure you, I am a medical professional and am bound to uphold your personal and medical confidentiality on all counts, barring matters of personal harm warranting legal intervention.”

“Yeah, but…” Pinkie waved a finger around, not daring gesture any more largely while her nipples refused to settle down. “It’s kind of a lady thing, and you’re kind of not a lady.”

“Ah!” Doctor Stable sat down at his desk, wiping his glasses on his coat as he did so. “I understand. Well, Nurses Redheart and Coldheart occupy the back rooms, and you’re welcome to go in and talk to one of them. If you tell me what it is that’s bothering you, I could recommend one or the other, but I understand if you’re not comfortable with that. I know I can think of a number of things you should be much too old to be asking about, and a number of other things you should be too young for…”

Pinkie stared at the ground. He was being too, too friendly, and on any other day that would have been so awesome and she’d have been so psyched to talk to him, maybe throw him some kind of medical party, invite him back to Sugarcube Corner to catch up on old times with the Cakes, anything, but right then she really didn’t need a friendly face she just needed some answers, uggh. “Lactation,” she said quietly.

Doctor Stable blinked at her, put his glasses back on, and blinked at her again. “And that I was going to call an example of the second category. Unless… oh, I see.” His face softened, and his eyes dropped ever so briefly to her concealed chest before refocusing professionally on her eyes. “That’d be Redheart, then, on the right.” He sighed. “Be a good girl, Ms. Pie, and, you know… be a good girl.”

Pinkie squeaked a thank you and ran past him into the back right office, which indeed had a ‘Nurse Redheart’ nameplate hanging by the door. She closed the door quickly behind her and looked around.

Nurse Redheart’s office was mostly white and clinical, but there were several posters taped to the walls with photos of happy students and text like ‘Hang in there!’ on the bottoms. It smelled… clean. There were lots of cupboards and glass cabinets along the walls, filled with instruments and concoctions Pinkie didn’t think she wanted to recognize. Most of the room was empty, with a blue and white checkered tile floor, but there was a reclining brown examination chair in one corner, covered in plastic wrap, and a plain wooden desk in another. There was a computer, and typing at that computer, sitting behind the desk, was the most glorious pair of tits Pinkie Pie had ever seen in her life.

Fluttershy’s fulsome funbags were little more than overripe grapes compared to the knockers Pinkie found herself staring at. Sunset’s sultry spheroids would have paled in comparison, had they only been large enough for the two even to deserve comparison in the first place. Whole babies could fit inside those melons. So could Scootaloo or one of her friends, probably, if they curled up enough. Even looking at them covered up in a fully-buttoned nurse’s robe had Pinkie’s nipples drilling holes straight through her shirt, and she couldn’t spare the brainpower to figure out if that was a figurative statement or not.

“Hello? May I help you, dear?” The breasts belonged to a white-skinned woman, pleasantly plump, wearing a cute white nurse’s cap. She had short pink hair, a little lighter than Pinkie’s, and inviting blue eyes. Her head was much smaller than her breasts. Anybody’s head would be smaller than her breasts. Pinkie stared and stared. She tried to answer, but she was having trouble forming anything besides drool in her mouth, let alone words or full sentences.

“Dear? I really can’t help you unless you speak up, you know.” The breasts—the woman—Nurse Redheart—rose up and walked forwards, and Pinkie’s pink pussy developed a brand new reservoir system as she watched the breasts in motion, bouncing with every step Nurse Redheart took as only two shaved wooly mammoths partially filled with helium could bounce. It was impossible that one such breast could exist in the universe. It was doubly impossible that there could be two of them. But there they were, somehow attached to the women’s chest, and she was able to walk without falling flat on her face. Not that her face could ever possibly reach the floor even if she did fall. Parties? What were parties?

Nurse Redheart followed her gaze and chuckled wryly. “Oh, I see. Feeling a little bit gay, dear? Don’t worry, I get this all the time. Nurse Frontparts, they call me. Some girls go their whole lives straight as an arrow, then they see me and suddenly they’re not so sure anymore. You’re a little more speechless than usual, though.”

“Guh,” Pinkie managed verbosely.

“Now that won’t do.” Nurse Redheart’s arms, by some miracle, managed to extend past her bustline, and she reached out and turned Pinkie around to face the door. “Let’s try this, dear. You tell me what’s wrong, but don’t turn around until I specifically tell you to, All right? And if that doesn’t work, we can always try a telephone call.”

Pinkie breathed in and out, starting rapidly but slowing down as she regained control over herself. She could do this. She could talk to this woman. She was usually able to hold coherent conversation with Fluttershy, after all, and… well, to be honest, Sunset’s size was closer to Fluttershy’s than Fluttershy’s was to this nurse’s. Maybe comparisons weren’t going to help her out. But if she really didn’t manage to calm down, she’d just have to go right back out to Doctor Stable with her nipples auditioning to be guards at Buckingham Palace and her pussy scrawling her signature on the floor. That wasn’t even an option.

“I’m okay,” she said.

Nurse Redheart patted her on the back. “Good! Now, who might you be?”

“I’m Pinkie Pie!”

“And what’s your trouble today?”

“I’m lactating.”

Nurse Redheart clicked her tongue. “Well, no wonder Stable sent you to me. I take it this isn’t baby-related, if you think it’s a problem?”

Pinkie Pie shook her head. “Nopers. My boobs have started growing when I have sex, or sometimes when I masturbate, and when I come I come out of my boobs, with milk, and my milk is all strawberry-flavored.” As she spoke, Pinkie realized how ridiculous her problem sounded. At the very least, some random high school nurse wasn’t going to have ever heard of it.

“Oh, I see! Well, don’t worry, dear, I know exactly what’s going on with you.”

Never mind. Life was looking up!

“In fact, you’re really quite lucky, if you can learn to see it that way. By any chance, were you here last year when one of our students turned into a demon, and then some of our other students grew wings and horns in order to stop her?”

Pinkie laughed. “I was one of them! It’s happened again, actually, because our friend who’s a pony princess has come back to visit. My boobs didn’t start growing until she showed up, and they didn’t do anything at all last time.”

Pinkie could hear Nurse Redheart pacing behind her, and tried not to think about what was making her footsteps sound so heavy. “That’s good,” she said. “It means you’ll probably believe everything I’m about to tell you. You see, there’s a little-known scientific disciple called pseudobiology, which holds that while we’re all on one level the same species—you, me, the girls who grew wings, and so on—on another level we’re really not. We each have a sort of gene pattern, drawn from a limited number of possibilities, that overlays all of our other genetics and infuses our physiologies and personalities with certain general characteristics. Unicorn people, for example, tend roughly to be on the taller side and to have some greater than average comfort with abstract concepts, and when in the presence of the right supernatural stimulus, they can grow horns and do magic. Am I making sense so far, dear?”

Pinkie thought about Rarity and Sunset Shimmer. “Yep!”

“Pegasus people are also common, but more diverse, and sometimes they grow wings, which are really the best way to identify them. But you, dear, are what’s called a milk person, although I really think ‘milkmaid’ sounds better. It’s a largely latent gene pattern, passed mostly matrilineally, that only sometimes activates to have noticeable physiological effects. Clearly your milkmaid status has just been activated, presumably by this pony friend of yours.”

“Oh.” Pinkie looked down at her titties, which had just then started to feel awfully small. “So this is perfectly natural? Huh.” She chewed her lip. “The pegasus people and unicorn people, um, there are pony versions of them in the pony world who are also pegasususes and unicorns. Would that make my pony version also a milkmaid? A… milkmare?”

“Maybe. Like I said, it’s rare and frequently latent. Your counterpart might live her entire life without ever discovering her abilities, if she has them at all. They might even manifest as something else entirely, since we obviously aren’t ponies. But what I should be telling you is how you work now, not how someone living in another dimension might or might not work completely hypothetically.

“You mentioned most of it already. You’ve lost your capacity for vaginal orgasm, although it may still be stimulated and will react to arousal… as I’m sure you’ve already noticed, given the wet spot you’re leaving on my floor. I’d suggest panties, dear, if you’re a dripper, but for all I know your generation may have abandoned underwear as outmoded.

“You’re going to have a lot of milk, so you’ll need to find an outlet for that. It generates fairly naturally over time, based on your eating and drinking habits, like for anyone else. Though be careful… that does mean that if you’re an alcoholic, for example, your milk may have some alcohol content to it. Arousal will also raise your milk levels, besides making you want to release some, and your breasts are able to absorb matter directly through the skin, if you’re in a hurry or just feeling creative. If you haven’t noticed, it’ll all be very high quality milk as well.”

Pinkie chewed her lip some more. So far everything sounded pretty reasonable, if more than a little insane. “Why is it strawberry milk?”

“I’d be inclined to blame your pink skin for that one, dear. Skin color’s still a mystery, but there’s a definite connection. I’ve met dark-skinned girls with chocolate milk, and the literature mentions the occasional peach milk producer, and so on. Obviously I’m just plain-flavored myself.”

“You…” Pinkie’s eyes bugged out of her head. “You’re one too… oh gosh, but my boobs have been growing… is that why you’re so, so…”

“Huge?” Nurse Redheart sounded amused. “Exactly, dear. But this is just the size I’m comfortable with right now. You could grow bigger than me if you wanted to! You’ve got enough body fat to support it.”

“Bigger than… you?” Pinkie’s mouth revoked all claims present and future to having any form of moisture in it. She had a sudden vision of herself standing next to an elementary school, tits the size of houses, renting herself out as a playground structure for small children who ran and leapt on top of her inconceivably massive mammaries. Her nipples were big as small cars and leaked constantly, with homeless men collecting her milk in buckets. She didn’t know whether to be aroused or horrified, though the latter was definitely tempting. “How do I…?”

“Well, sex, of course.” Nurse Redheart’s voice was kind and laughably conversational. “But not all sex is equal. The more you care about the orgasm, be it from having sex with someone you like a lot, or even just from masturbating to a really attractive idea, the more your breasts will grow. More run-of-the-mill orgasms will keep you satiated and at a constant size, and of course if you experience a dry spell, they’ll start to shrink. Breastfeeding also really helps, if you end up having children eventually, since that tells your breasts pretty directly that they’re needed.

“Right,” said Pinkie, mind reeling. “Have lots of sex, got it.”

“If that’s what you’re going for, dear. Of course, you’ll have an excellent rack on your side, so you shouldn’t have too hard a time finding people to help you out, and milkmaids are able to turn horny very easily, so that won’t be an issue. Just remember that it’s only the meaningful sex that really makes you grow… which is nice, because what better compliment could you give someone than showing them that they enlarge your breast size? Meaningless sex, sex just for the physical enjoyment, is essentially free, minus the food you’ll need to eat to make up for all your expended milk and energy.”

There was an idea in Pinkie’s head, a wonderful idea, an idea she would never forgive herself if she didn’t say anything about. “So… even if I don’t know yet what size I want to end up at, I can have sex with someone hot just because I want to, purely for the sex’s sake, and… nothing will go wrong?”

“Precisely. And if… oh, I see.” Nurse Redheart laughed merrily. “You want a demonstration, dear, don’t you?”

“If that’s okay!” Pinkie put as much cheer into it as she could. She had no idea what the relevant laws were for this kind of thing, or if there even were any, but the nurse had been incredibly open and understanding thus far, and if she did say no, Pinkie suspected she wouldn’t get in any trouble for asking. Even if she somehow did… well, it was a question that had needed to be asked.

“Don’t worry, dear, it’s hardly the first time someone’s asked me.” There were some sounds that Pinkie didn’t dare try to identify. “You may turn around now.”

Pinkie Pie turned around. Nurse Redheart’s white coat lay across the surface of her desk, and she stood there completely naked, still smiling kindly. There was a little puff of pink hair above her slit, but just above that were her mindblowing bazoingas, grown all the way down to her hips without the least sign of sagging or stretch marks and extending outward from her chest for at least a foot in every direction. Her nipples were almost as large as Pinkie’s whole boobs, with areolas in the shape of the Red Cross. Pinkie had no idea how she could be standing and didn’t remotely care.

Pinkie’s old parkour muscles resurfaced for an instant as she crossed the room at the speed of sound, running so fast she left her clothes and backpack behind to fall awkwardly to the floor. She threw her arms around Nurse Redheart’s left breast—both at once was not an option—and buried her face in the endless masses of curving flesh. Strawberry milk flew from her boobs at the impact, splashing onto Nurse Redheart’s breast and nipple and getting absorbed into her almost instantly. Pinkie should have been amazed, but there was too much else demanding her amazement.

She had entered a new world, a world of nothing but endless expanses of beautiful creamy white curves and two enormous pink mountains to cap them off. She hesitantly placed her lips to one engorged nipple and sucked, just for a moment, and found her mouth filled with the most amazing milk she had ever tasted, pure and healthy as going on the computer to look at kitten videos, pouring down her greedy throat until she couldn’t even gasp for more. Pinkie hugged the enormous breasts close, first one then the other, not knowing how to decide between them, and pressed her kneady hands deep into their gleaming expanses.

She came then and there, her oil well nipples shooting streams of strawberry milk all over Nurse Redheart’s masses, and once again the milk was absorbed into the skin before she could blink. Still she leaned forward to lap desperately, licking Nurse Redheart’s breasts and nipples up and down as her body continued to shake and her nipples continued to jet. One orgasm wasn’t enough, couldn’t be enough, and her body was on fire with unbridled lust as she made love to those glorious giants, pressing every part of her she could to them, her straining arms, her delightfully squashed boobs, her sopping wet pussy…

Something was wrong. She pushed herself backwards a little, refocusing with some difficulty on Nurse Redheart’s smiling face. “Aren’t you going to do anything too?” she asked. “Maybe finger me a little or, I dunno… something?”

Nurse Redheart only shook her head, and Pinkie frowned. Was something going wrong with her three rules? They were both naked, and she was definitely having fun, but the other woman didn’t seem to be. She looked down to Nurse Redheart’s little clit, hidden beneath that cute tuft of pink hair, and was shocked to see it was almost totally dry. How could that be?

“Oh golly… you’re straight, aren’t you?”

“Utterly, dear. Sorry.”

Pinkie rested her hands on the top of Nurse Redheart’s whoppers, unconsciously petting and squeezing them as she thought. “But then, why?”

“Well, this is your medical appointment, dear… I’m just here to help. And another reason, but let’s see if you can’t figure that one out.”

“Isn’t there anything I can do to help you out?”

Nurse Redheart patted her head. “Really, I’m just happy to see you having so much fun, dear. Although if you happened to have a vibrator with you, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Oh, I’ve got something even neater than that! Wait here.” Pinkie moved to turn around, then fell back to lather one of the great stonking tits with kisses. “Um, be right back.” She took one nipple in both hands and squeezed it lovingly, making shining white milk gush over her whole body. “Any second now.” She flopped against the breasts and nuzzled deeply. “Don’t go anywhere.” She stood back, angling her foot into the air to see if she could maybe press her pussy against one of those nipples, trying to find out what it would feel like, maybe even get some milk squirted deep inside of her. “Just a moment.”

“Pinkie, shoo!”

“Geez, fine, fine!” Pinkie ran to her backpack, leaving white and pink trails on the floor from all over her body. She knew she’d packed the stuff she was looking for somewhere… aha! “So, Reddy, do you want Happy Birthday or a bunch of shooting stars and smiley faces?”

“Umm… the birthday one?”

“Neat!” Pinkie returned with her findings. “See, this is a novelty balloon pump! It’s got two different tubes, so you can work faster, and instead of pumping up and down a lot, you just push the trigger down until you’ve put out the right amount of air. Or if you go too far, you just pull the trigger back up again a little and it takes some air right back in. I don’t use it much, because it seems awfully lazy, but it does have one doozy of a secondary function.”

“Oh?”

Pinkie leaned forward, boobs jiggling from her excitement, and attached an empty round balloon to the end of each of the tubes. She passed the tube with the Happy Birthday balloon to Nurse Redheart. “Just stuff this sucker up your snatch,” she said, “and we’ll be in business!” She spread her legs wide open and fed her own balloon between her flared pussy lips to illustrate, unable to resist petting herself as she did so. “Ready?”

Nurse Redheart followed her example. “Ready,” she said. “But won’t they pop?”

“Nah! I got these special-made, because I wouldn’t want anything to suddenly pop and hurt my pet alligator.” Grinning, she plunged the pump’s trigger down to the halfway point, and they both squealed as the balloons inflated rapidly within them.

The industrial-strength latex filled her till she thought she would burst. The rubbery surface should have been uncomfortable, but her many juices lubricated it on all sides, transforming the balloon into an amorphous love machine that stretched itself to fit and fill her perfectly. Her pussy ached with strained delight, or maybe delighted strain, sending a hundred thousand signals of joy racing through her body like the world’s least efficient obstacle course.

Pinkie’s widely spread feet found Nurse Redheart’s own, and she giggled as their toes wriggled around one another. She brought her hands back to her chest, kneading and squeezing strawberry-flavored trickles from her stiff tips while her pussy slowly settled down. Nurse Redheart’s spent milk surrounded her on the floor, so she cupped some with her hands and pressed it into her breasts, sighing in bliss as it seeped through her skin and inside of her.

“This is very inventive, dear,” said Nurse Redheart, “but, ahhhh, I think it’s missing something without the vibration.” Pinkie could just make out the end of the Happy Birthday balloon buried inside of her while she played with her open clitty one-handed, her other hand glistening with milk as she pulled at her siamese twin sumo wrestlers.

Pinkie Pie chortled in her joy. “Well, of course! You have to vary the pressure, or it’ll get old really fast. Go on, you try!”

Nurse Redheart reached for the trigger on the pump and raised it back up a little. The pressure on the inside of Pinkie’s slick pussy lessened for a moment, and she sighed in a combination of pleasure and disappointment. Then she brought the trigger down a whole inch, and they screamed as one.

Pinkie had already been stretched to the limit, but the balloon exceeded those limits, and so too did she. It was like someone’s entire head had been forced inside her pussy, all at once, and attached to that head were a million tongues probing at her most secret and sensitive place. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she struggled to stay seated upright, and a long jet of pure white milk hitting her face confirmed that Nurse Redheart was being similarly affected. Milk filled her mouth, her nose, her eyes, and poured down her face and chin to fall gaily down to her waiting breasts. Pinkie squeezed the liquid into her breasts with her own pink milk, pawing and massaging and unable to think of anything but bliss and pain and the need to touch herself everywhere, all at once, as the balloon strained against her insides with unimaginable intensity. She was full, so full, fuller than even birth could possibly make her feel full, and she could only touch and flick and feel and grab and squeeze and moan and cry and whimper and scream and scream and scream.

Mercifully, Nurse Redheart brought the trigger back up again, and Pinkie could feel her whole body relax, though it still beat with unending sexual joy. She could see Nurse Redheart thumbing her clit rapidly, panting now, and her little nurse’s cap had fallen off at some point and was floating upside-down in the pink and white milk all over the floor. “Don’t stop,” she begged, and Nurse Redheart nodded faintly, and began to move the trigger steadily up and down instead, causing their balloons and pussies to expand and contract over and over again like a sine graph of bliss

Pinkie’s boobies were bouncing freely now, every quick expansion of the balloon making her body rock upward, and milk was flying from her to land in Nurse Redheart’s hair or bounce against her bowling ball nipples. There was only one way the experience could possibly end, and she didn’t even know how it hadn’t happened already.

“Ready?” asked Nurse Redheart shakily. She had on hand on the pump’s trigger, while her other still flashed up and down her clit at unbelievable speeds.

Pinkie shook her head frantically. “No, no, not ready for that, ahhhh, could never be ready!”

“Then…”

“Of course I want you to do it!” she screamed, and Nurse Redheart pushed the trigger down lower than it was ever supposed to go. For an instant all of Pinkie’s world was her and the balloon, and the balloon couldn’t explode, so she exploded instead. Even while the unattended pump started sucking the air back out again, Pinkie came everywhere, endless jets of strawberry milk flying in all directions and pouring down every available surface. She struggled to her knees and flattened her spasming boobs against Nurse Redheart’s immensities, and they moaned together as their breasts rocked each other, diamond-hard nipples scraping across each other’s skin, breasts bouncing and heaving wildly as the shared orgasm had its way with their entire bodies. When it finally passed, Pinkie sat back, feeling like she’d just been drenched in absolute gallons of white deliciousness, which still dripped off her nose, her hair, her eyelashes, her fingers, her open pussy lips, her everywhere.

“That…” she struggled to speak. “That was amazing!”

Nurse Redheart rubbed milk from her eyes, smiling weakly. “You’re a very clever girl, dear,” she said. “And see, your breasts haven’t grown so much as a centimeter.”

“Oh, how about that, huh.” Pinkie grabbed one of her boobs, somewhat afraid to let go. “Wait, really? But I had so much fun!”

“Meaningless fun, dear.” Nurse Redheart grabbed her lost cap and stuck it back on her head, smiling wryly as it poured milk down her cheeks. “Think about it… how much was that about you, and how much was it about me?”

Pinkie Pie hesitated. “I guess it was pretty much just about me. I mean… even when you first took your robe off, and I was just playing with your tits, that was all me too. You could have been anyone behind them, really.”

“Exactly. Would you even have minded if I wasn’t attached at all? If they were just two enormous breasts for you to play with, hanging in midair or something?”

“No, I guess not.” Pinkie shuddered a little at the thought, but couldn’t deny it was still an arousing image. “Is that what you were trying to teach me?”

“Something like it.” Nurse Redheart patted her again, not sexually at all, just kindly. “You can think of me as a warning if you like. Your breasts may feel like an amazing superpower right now, and they are, but be careful. Go too far, and everyone else will just treat you like you treated me.” She raised a finger before Pinkie could say anything. “Ah, ah, don’t apologize! I told you, I’m comfortable like this, and obviously I don’t mind sex when it’s offered. But my husband fortunately isn’t a breast man, or that’d be rather awkward.”

Pinkie’s hair shot up above her head. “You’re married?!” It was such an obvious thing, of course an older woman might well be married to someone, but she hadn’t even considered it. Was she going to get chased off by a farmer with a shotgun? Sure, that sounded kind of exciting, but less so if she actually got shot in the process…

“Oh, yes! To Doctor Stable, in fact.” She winked. “So yes, he knew exactly what your condition was before he sent you in here, and he knows exactly what we’ve been doing since then, so don’t worry about a thing. You can stagger out there right now, barely dressed and obviously drizzling from every orifice, and he’ll just nod and treat you professionally. Or if he doesn’t, I’ll give him a talking-to later on.”

Pinkie hugged her tight. “You’re, like, super weird,” she said into Nurse Redheart’s neck. “But you’re also really nice. Thank you.”

Nurse Redheart laughed and got to her feet, and the balloon fell wetly from her pussy as she rose, still unpopped but very slippery. “You’re welcome, dear. Now, let me see if I can’t find us the key to the office shower. You’ll never get away with going to class like that.”

Pinkie giggled. “I bet some people might like it if I did!”

“Oh, they might.” Nurse Redheart looked thoughtful. “Here’s the thing I’d like you to learn while you’re using that rack of yours, dear. You having sex with me just now, that’s something you wanted up here, for orgasms and breast milk explosions and all that.” She patted herself fondly. “But life isn’t all about sex, and sometimes there’s a difference between the thing you want for your breasts, and the thing you want for your heart. I’m not saying how much you should treat one or the other as important… just try not to confuse the two.”

Pinkie nodded slowly. That did sound pretty smart. “Reddy,” she said, “I mean, Mrs. Redheart… there’s this girl that I like, and—“

“I don’t know the first thing about liking girls, love,” said Nurse Redheart with a smile. “But you’re a sweet one, so I wish you all the best figuring it out. Now come on, we need to get your butt in that shower.”