There was no denying it. It was love. No. It was passion. Pure, uncontrolled, without restraints or logic. It gripped at the heart and reamed at their burning souls like no thousand suns could ever match up to. They could no longer hold it within their trembling, mortal bodies. And though her lips shuddered reluctance, he saw in her eyes the inflamed desire to be taken. To be ravished like all others before her. But it would be different this once; she would tame his wild nature or be left a quivering conquest as she had once before.

Her hand rose in reluctance, searching for his own. Before a breathy word could leave her soft lips, she was thrown upon the hay, her blouse falling along with her as passion demanded their torrid love affair to await no more minced words; nor any words at all. Just unwed passion. Her desires were swiftly realized as she witnessed her lover -- her best friend's husband -- undo his torn shorts to allow for his girthing--

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

SLAM!

How barbaric! Crass! Uncivil! Unnatural! Pigheaded! Just... Just drivel! What else could one use to describe such base -- such putrid circumstances and plot -- works of literature? "Works of literature"... How juvenile to even consider this -THAT- literature. The plot was imitative, uninspired, or uninventive, like all these sorts of "stories" are. The characters were unrealistic and plain disingenuous as people the reader was supposed to follow or even "relate to". I mean, the-the audacity! Why would Clarice even consider destroying the long standing friendship she and Marilyn had over a tawdry affair? No matter how rippling his muscles--AHHHH!

A blessing that Moondancer's inner voice remained where it did instead of exploding through the torpid library she occupied. While the library itself was massive to say the least---column after column of books fading into the distant shadows further into the building no matter where you stood---it wouldn't have been any short exaggeration to think that her words would have reached entrance to exit. Being caught reading these books was the last thing on her mind, her face shading pinker and pinker with each passing second she held this smutty find. While there may have been a clearly dedicated as well as blatantly mapped out section assigned to "adult romance/etc.", Moondancer found it to be like stumbling across forbidden treasure locked away deep in a long forgotten dungeon.

"Black Unicorn": A story of a simple, average, plain-looking, indistinct servant girl that is pulled into a whirlwind of a new world when her complex, extraordinary, beautiful, distinct aristocrat of a friend invites her to tend to her estate. It is there she falls into a cyclone of drama, lust, and perversion when her friend’s husband takes an interest in her. Within a tornado of emotions, what is a girl to do?

They literally used the same metaphor three times in that single description. And how cliche can that description of the main character be? Her friend's description is just antonyms of the main character! How hackney can you be? The whole point of making the main character so blatantly bland and unremarkable is a clear ploy to have the reader project themselves into her place. That way they can imagine being thrown about like they were nothing while being taken---AHHHH!

With a swift flick of the wrist, "Black Unicorn" met spine first against an accumulating pile of similar books. Moondancer was hesitant, but her eyes tentatively scanned over her shameful stack of books. "Choking Hazard"... That was a chore to swallow. "Perfect Plot" had so little plot, you could argue there wasn't any at all after the first chapter. "The Harder They Come" could have only been written by a child who had parents in the publishing business given its childish name-play. No matter which one Moondancer looked at, her heart would pound out her chest before shriveling up.

The very sight of them only rang a little repeating question in her head: "Moondancer, why did you come here?"

"Hey, Twilight. If you're not busy, do you think you'd want to run over those notes on Projective Divination practices?" Moondancer asked, hoping for a positive response on the other end of the phone-line.

"Again?" Twilight responded with a little chuckle, "Moondancer, you've talked your way up and down on that for days now. I bet you could host a lecture without any written aids for it at this point."

"Well, yeah, most definitely," couldn't argue with her there.

"Maybe it's time to move onto a new subject. I wouldn't peg you as one to stagnate."

"I guess you're right... Huh. Well, what do you think I should brush up on?"

"Brush up? Anyone can brush up, Moondancer. I want to see you learn," Twilight stressed her last word with a little taunt.

"Learn? I've learned just about everything pertaining to anything you could imagine at this point," Moondancer scoffed.

"Well, think about something you haven't mastered yet. Then... Master it," explained Twilight as if it were so simple.

“Twilight, what could I possibly not have a complete and total grasp on at this point?”

A pause from the other side before Twilight answered in her matter-of-fact way, “Dating?”

If there was one person Moondancer respected as an intellectual equal, it was Twilight Sparkle. Her challenge struck a chord in Moondancer, and that is why she came to the Royal Canterlot Library. For years Moondancer wandered the vast aisles of the old library, learning from all of the greats about everything there was to know. Facts and fiction, the laws of probability, the fundamentals of magic and how to bend them to do wondrous things; everything. But when Twilight issued her suggested challenge, Moondancer could think of nowhere better to start her search. Sadly, a short review of all the sections in the library yielded one truth to Moondancer: She already read through every single section.

That is except for one: "Adult Romance/etc.".

Was it crass to go to the most adult section of the library to learn the basics of dating? Most certainly. But, the method to Moondancer’s madness was based on basic logic: You learn the fastest once thrown into the deepest depths of the subject.

What place is more deeply rooted in dating and all of its components than the romanticized and accentuated idea of it buried deep in raunchy, steamy romance novels? At least that was the idea going in. Now, Moondancer was regretting her decision. The looming tower of “research” beside her on the table she occupied serving as a very apt metaphor in her eyes. Every page that she flipped through reminded her time and again that she was just lying to herself. There were several points where she read up on dating habits and social interactions; granted they were in psychology mostly, but she got the gist. She knew dating, she even went on a few before; not that she ever brought it up with her friends, much less Twilight.

No. That wasn’t what she was after. That’s not what she was looking to “master”. Twilight’s suggestion only served to excuse a greater search for knowledge; a quest that Moondancer had long ignored in her life.

The art of courtship.

The theory of romance.

The practice and execution of coitus.

Simply put: how does one have sex?

Of course she had seen diagrams, examples, read detailed accounts even describing the ins and outs of going in and out. But that was all the facts and figures of it all. From what she read, sex was based primarily in passion. And, as much as she hated to admit it, there was only so much passion in “the man pushes his erect penis into the woman’s vaginal pass until ejaculation is reached”. Compare that to “his cock ran through her warmth, exploring and pleasuring her in ways she could have never hoped to have imagined before”; it’s easy to see a difference. Even if that difference is purely cosmetic, one of them does invoke more of a feeling of... excitement.

But, Moondancer couldn’t help but feel these sorts of books weren’t much help either. Were they passionate? Very passionate. But they also felt in her mind far too improbable; a standard of intimacy that just couldn’t be reached. What was the point in reading these books if it just set a standard she couldn’t reach and thereby “master” from? The thought rattled in her head, a flustered pink across her cheeks accompanying the thoughts.

Moondancer ran her delicate fingers down her heated face, enjoying the momentary chill they provided before letting out an irritated groan. Once more, her eyes set on the towering stack of books she had gathered. Still flustered about their contents, Moondancer pushed down those swirling feelings long enough to start putting the “research material” back on their respective shelf. There was no chance she was walking out with any of these… Not this time at least.

Wouldn’t that be a cliche in itself? The nerdy, repressed bookworm walking out with an armful of romance novels. Why not just wear a sign saying “Ask me about my sexuality”? I’ve read enough romance novels to know where that--AHHHH!

The idea was quickly shaken out of her head as she placed “Black Unicorn” back on the shelf with the rest. Amidst her fluster, her eyes caught the spine of another book tucked snuggly among all the other romance novels. “Throbbing Passion: Ways to be a more open you”. A bit on the nose as names went, but the same could be said about more than half the catalog of books in the section. Gingerly, she plucked the book out from the comfort of the shelf and flipped it over.

“Throbbing Passion: Ways to Be a more open you”: A compound work of fiction and introductory lesson into the world of sexuality. Follow along as the main character---Jean---enters into an unpredictable world, searching to define her womanhood and her independence in it. Each chapter details another step in Jean’s development into a healthy, active, and sexually pleased woman.

It seemed almost too good to be true. If the book could actually come through on what it promised, it could be everything Moondancer was looking for. Swiftly, she hugged the book tight against her beating chest. Her eyes darted to look at a nearby clock fixed overhead; only an hour to closing. While Moondancer had spent the night over in the library on more than one occasion, she thought this book might be better to read at home for research sake. Less wandering eyes and attentive security cameras. Not that she had planned to do anything outside of reading, of course.

Now, I’m sure the librarian won’t mind if I just step out with the one book… I’ve built up so much clout here, I can have a free pass this once. Nobody has to know I’m checking out a---um… book like this.

“Moondancer!” Normally color would have drained from her already pale face, but hearing the familiar voice behind her made Moondancer’s face burn a lively pink.

Twilight Sparkle, unnoticed by the hyper alert Moondancer amidst her calculating book-theft planning, strolled up behind the bookworm and rested a single hand on her shoulder. “I’d say it’s a surprise to see you, but, well, this is the library. I’d be surprised to see you anywhere else,” Twilight snorted a little at her own joke.

In a different hour under different circumstances Moondancer would have laughed with Twilight, but this wasn’t the time. Her arms tightened up against her thumping chest all the more, almost cutting off her breathing while beads of sweat started to form above her brow. With a jerk of a twist, Moondancer simultaneously met Twilight face to face---her own face an unnatural pink for her---and pivoted her arms around with the book to hide it behind her back.

Maybe she didn’t notice…

“Oh-ho! Twilight! Wow. Really great to see you here at the library that you and I both frequent on occasion,” Moondancer stammered awkward dialogue, “Yes. I’m certainly not surprised to---”

“What’s that you got there?” Twilight interjected, pointing towards the obvious book Moondancer tucked behind her back.

“Whaaaaat? A book? Me? Why, reading a book is the last thing I’m doing, Twilight,” Moondancer waved a dismissive hand to Twilight.

“But I can see it,” Twilight chuckled.

Moondancer’s fingers tensed around the binding of the book as her flawless lie was seen through. Getting around a sleepy, old librarian she’s walked by day after day would have been easy; but getting around a spry, intelligent woman like Twilight without the book behind seen was a different matter entirely. If only Twilight hadn’t shown up, she would be outside by now.

Suddenly, Moondancer’s heart stopped dead in her heart and her breath caught in her throat as something pieced together in her mind looking at Twilight’s innocent, unassuming face.

“Um… Twilight. Why’re you in the adult section?” she managed to squeak out.

Twilight goes into the adult romance section? Does that mean…? Twilight? Does she…? With…?

“Oh! You know,” Twilight shrugged and stepped past Moondancer, grabbing a familiar book off the recently restocked shelf, “Just picking up a little night reading. Spike’s not a fan of us stocking these kinds of books at our place. So I just pop over here every few days to pick one up.” Twilight explained while waving “Black Unicorn” in Moondancer’s face to prove her point.

Each waving flap of the book in Moondancer’s face restarted her sunken heart; only now could Moondancer actually smell the faint but unmistakable scent of allure stuck to the pages now that it was bouncing in her face. All at once, rushing thoughts filled Moondancer’s head without restraint. Time after time, Twilight beat Moondancer out at every turn in academics or understanding. And now, Moondancer knew Twilight beat her out in another field as well. That realization brought several images to Moondancer’s mind as she looked at Twilight.

Positions, faces, sounds.

Twilight’s gone all the way? Why else would she read these books for ‘night reading’? To relive past exploits? So, does that mean----?

“AHHHHHH!” Moondancer screamed at the top of her lungs, knocking Twilight back in surprise.

Face beet red and chest fluttering out of control along with the thoughts spiraling in her head, Moondancer continued to scream as she ran from the Adult Romance section and through the library. As the startled bookworm fled the scene, her screams grew more and more distant to Twilight until a firm slam of doors left the whole of the library silent once more.

“I guess she’s not a fan of romance novels…” Twilight mused to herself while unpopping her ears after Moondancer’s scream attack, “...Wait… Why was she in the Adult Romance section?”

Chapter One: Her name is Jean.

---Jean awoke that day, a changed woman. The world behind her was no more and her eyes were newly opened. She knew it then as the rays of sun rested against her face: today was the day she would experience something new.

Author's Notes:

Now that the set up is out of the way, every chapter after will earn that "M" rating.