I walked my hometown alone.

At night this town was nearly abandoned. My ears swiveled at every sound. Every lone car was all the more terrifying. Every time I went to hide behind the nearest parked car or crouch behind a bush and prayed they were stoned or drunk out of their mind and didn’t see me.

I had made this walk as a human many times. But that was long ago and on two feet. Now, on all four hooves, it was terrifying.

I imagined being spotted and what they would think. I was a monster on the prowl at midnight. On a full moon, no less. At first I tip-hoofed through the backyards of houses. Whenever I encountered an impenetrable wall of fences I had to cross across the front yard instead.

Just one pair of wandering eyes from a dark windowed house could call the police on me. I was the definition of suspicious activity.

One house’s backyard had motion-detection lights. A barking dog at night was annoying as a human. As a pony sneaking through town, I nearly shit my pants. After that I swore off backyards.

My clopping hooves made a loud and distinct noise on the paved roads and sidewalks so I crunched through the grass between them. There were parked cars and brick mailboxes to hide behind until I left the neighborhoods.

It was a slow crawl to Pennsylvania Avenue but I had made it. It would be a straight shot up to Comet’s place but now I was staring down a long road of storefronts with very few places to hide. I lurked in the last bush to hide in, trying to formulate a plan. This street would be a simple path to take, but so very far at this rate. Any alcohol left in my system had burned off from fear long ago.

A car with one headlight passed. I flattened myself to the ground on instinct. I saw it pull into the nearby mobile home park. I watched the car and waited for the person to get out and go inside their home. To my surprise, by the light of the street light I recognized this person.

That was Nathan coming home from his job at the grocery store. His hair was the same, his baggy pants were the same. I guess some things never changed. I got drunk and smoked pot with him on occasion. He was a little odd and didn’t have a lot of friends besides me. So I felt shitty when he still wanted to hang out after I moved away. Our friendship was alright, but not strong enough to justify the drive. Whenever I came home to see Ruby I never thought to see him.

He was carrying an armful of groceries to his mobile home. As he awkwardly fished out the keys to his front door I was surprised my ears could pick out the distinct sound of bottles clinking together and the rustle of snacks from across the streets.

The times we hung out came back to me and something stuck out in my mind: he always wanted me to watch My Little Pony with him and I always declined. Nathan was a brony. And I was a pony right now. If it was anyone else I would be wary of these facts, but I knew Nathan was awkward and harmless.

I took one more glance down that long avenue of storefronts towards Comet’s place then made my decision.

I crossed the street in a dash of clip-clops. I snuck along the mix of dirt and gravel along the edge of his dented up car to his front door, I braced myself as I knocked with a hoof on his door.

There was an awkward, vulnerable pause before he opened the door. A person my age with greasy, curly hair, a three-day beard, glasses and a slack jaw met my gaze through the screen door. He stared down at me, looked around in confusion then back down at me. He might have been in shock so I made the first move.

“Hay, Nathan!” I waved a hoof and put on a smile. “It’s me, Berry Punch! I was in town and needed a place to crash. Can I come in?”

To my surprise he wordlessly closed the door on me. I heard him lock it. I blinked at the door, confused. Maybe I scared him? Oh wait, I used the wrong name again.

“Nathan? It’s me, Brian Peters,” I called. I looked around and behind me to see the coast was still clear. When I turned back I saw his blinds of his window pulled to the side and him peeking out. I waved a hoof at him again in what I assumed still looked like a friendly handwave gesture without the hand.

He left the window and I heard the mobile home’s foundation creak as he came back to the door and unlocked it again. I took a few steps back this time to give him some more space. He opened the door and looked at me again. He tilted his head to the side and I couldn’t help but tilt my head back.

“Is... this a prank?” he asked cautiously.

“Nope! It’s me, Brian! I turned into a pony,” I explained. I checked behind me again. “It’s… kind of a long story. Can I come in? I’m a sitting duck out here.”

After a second of hesitation he opened the door wider and let me step inside. I looked around his place to make sure no one else was there. His place showed it was mostly the same as I last saw it. Just messier and dirtier. He still lived alone. I let out a sigh of relief that I was finally back in a safe and familiar environment. I turned back to my host.

“Hay! So, uh, how have you been?” I greeted him. He looked down at me still unsure of what he was seeing.

“Um… fine,” he answered indecisively. “You- can I touch you? Are you real?”

Without waiting for an answer he bent down to my eye level and touched my mane. This close to him I could smell a bit of body odor and dried sweat. It wasn’t horrible but it was a little stronger than I expected. He ran his hand through my mane and touched my ear. I flicked it in response to get the tickling to stop. He kept touching it so I shooed his hand away with a foreleg. He stepped back apologetically.

“Yeah. I’m really real,” I assured him.

“But you’re Berry Punch! You’re a cartoon pony!” he gave his analysis. I concurred with a nod.

“I mean, that’s what I look like,” I said as I double checked the bottom of my hoof to see that, yup, it was still a hoof. “But like I said, it’s me, Brian Peters? We used to smoke together back in high school? ...your older brother sold you his bong? You had pony stickers on it.”

He studied me a little longer this time. A twinkle of recognition caught his eye. “Brian? It’s really you? How did you turn into a pony?”

I looked over at the bag of groceries still sitting on his counter. I could feel my tail in my sweatpants wag a bit in anticipation. I looked back at him and gave an award-winning smile. “How about I tell you over some beers?”

We ended up settling on the couch in comfier clothing. He was in shorts and a ratty t-shirt and I stripped down to my shirt and boxers. It was nice to get my backpack off and my tail back out.

By the time I finished telling him about my past few days we were a few beers in. Considerate of my handicap, Nathan was opening my cans for me. I found I had just enough grip with the side of what used to feel like the ‘palms’ of my forelegs to get the can up my lips and back down between my legs.

“Huh, that sucks,” Nathan started. “So are you going to text your friends and let them know you’re safe?”

“I would,” I agreed, “but uh…” I bent the joint that seemed to have been my wrist: it was halfway up my foreleg. “I got no thumbs. Would you do it for me? My phone’s in my bag.”

Happy to help, Nathan got up and dug my phone out of my bag.

“Hey, can we have some of this?” Nathan said as he held up the Jameson from my bag as well. He didn’t have to rummage far, they were practically just sitting in there at this point.

“Hmm,” I hesitated. I wanted to be nice to the guy who let me into his place. And it would make him self-conscious if I let him drink it alone. So… “I think it’s a Jack and coke night actually.”

Nathan agreed and brought the phone and Jack Daniel’s back over to the couch. I got him to unlock it and directed him to put the message in the group chat. Nathan fired off a message letting them know where I was and that I was fine. He left the phone and bottle with me as he went up to get the soda. To my slight disgust he brought a two liter bottle of Pepsi back to the coffee table with the cups. I debated teasing him but let him pour out our drinks instead. I was no snob. I polished off my beer and accepted the glass of Jack and sugar.

“So is it really so bad to be a pony?” he asked as he turned on his game console, probably to get some background noise going.

“Well, yeah? I look gay, I have to walk on all fours, I have no hands, and I lost my dick,” I complained. As if to confirm he looked down at the crotch of my boxers. With how high I was wearing them in order to repurpose the hole as a tail hole and how thick my flanks were the remaining fabric made it clear I wasn’t packing.

I took a long drink in memory of my lost dick. Jack and Pepsi was terrible but I was used to basically nail polish. Nathan smiled.

“Yeah. I was going to ask about that...” Nathan started as he fiddled with his game controller. “On the show they don’t have genitals because it’s a show for little kids. But… do you… have them?”

"Yeah, I got a weird horse vagina,” I confirmed. I took another drink of my waste of Jack Daniel’s and swallowed. Nathan started chuckling loudly so I turned to see what the matter was. “What?”

“I can tell you don’t like that!” he said, grinning. “Whenever you take a drink your ears pin down and your muzzle scrunches. It’s really cute.”

“Oh,” I looked away feeling self-conscious. My tail pinned by the couch cushion behind me twitched instinctively to try and cover myself. “Don’t-don’t call me cute. That makes me uncomfortable.”

“But you are! Ponies are cute and you’re a pony,” he stated it as fact.

“Yeah, maybe, I guess? I know what I look like right now but I’m straight and I know you’re straight so that makes me uncomfortable,” I explained.

“But... you’re a mare?” he countered. “Aren’t you attracted to stallions now?”

“That’s not bucking funny,” I scowled at him. I thought of the way Comet phrased it and repeated it, “I still…. identify as a male human; a straight male human.”

“Oh, right. That makes sense. Sorry,” he apologized.

I took another drink from my glass, a little angry this time. Apparently the fine hairs on the side of my forelegs were no match for the condensation building up on the outside of the glass. The glass slipped and its contents ended up dumped onto my shirt and lap.

“Applebucker!” I swore.

While Nathan removed the glass and got a towel I went to my backpack to see what clothes I had on hoof to switch into. I ended up biting down on a shirt and my sweatpants and dragging those into the bathroom to change.

After about ten minutes of wrestling to push my wet clothes off and pull my new ones on there was a knock on the bathroom door.
“Brian?” Nathan called through the door. “Are you alright?”

At that I gave up in my half-dressed clothes and laid down on the bathroom floor. I could smell piss and see hairs of questionable origin from my vantage point.
“Yeaaaah...” I said with a sigh. “...could you come in and help me?”

Nathan came in and saw my shirt wrapped around my neck and my sweatpants hanging off just one leg. He gave me a pitying smile and started to help clothe me.

“The ponies on the show seem to have a lot easier time doing stuff than you do,” he pointed out as he helped thread my forelegs through my shirt sleeves and even untuck my mane from inside my shirt. “They could build houses and bake cupcakes and balance baskets full of apples on their backs...”

“Yeah well I’m real and they’re not,” I pointed out. “They normally didn’t wear clothes either.”

I turned around to let him help me pull my sweatpants up. My tail was firmly tucked to cover my shame.

“I mean… why are you wearing clothes?” Nathan asked. He took a second to admire my cutie mark.

“Because it’s weird to be naked around other people?” I suggested innocently.

“Yeah, but you’re all furry now,” he tried. “You don’t look naked when you’re naked.”

“Nathan, I know you’re a brony,” I turned back to face him. I was shutting this man down. “I know what ‘clop’ is.”

“Hey! Not every brony clops!” Nathan insisted.

“Yeah, whatever,” I dismissed with an eye roll. “Are you going to help me get my pants back on or what?”

After Nathan helped me out we went back to the living room. After a bit of brainstorming, we salvaged a straw from one of the many empty plastic cups decorating the coffee table. I switched to lying on my stomach and then I was sitting with a fresh Jack and Sugar!

“So, you always said ‘no’ when I suggested we watch My Little Pony in the past…” he said as he navigated his game console to his Netflix application. I saw where this was going and groaned.

“I think I have enough pony in my life right now,” I complained.

“Yeah but maybe you need to, like, learn more about how to be a pony? Like carrying objects. And see what Berry Punch is like,” he tried me.

“I heard she’s an alcoholic,” I said dismissively right before I hypocritically sipped on my mixed drink. I could see Nathan’s spirits getting crushed.

Okay, maybe I was being a horse’s ass. He did just help me get dressed and fixed me another drink (with my Jack and sugar piss, but still).

“Have you ever watched the show?” Nathan tried me. “I think... if you started from the beginning you’d actually like it.”

“Oh, because I’m a little pony I must like My Little Pony?” I feigned insult. “That’s racist!”

Nathan laughed then offered, “Sorry. So… something else then?”

Honestly, I didn’t really want to watch anything at that moment, but since everything would be equally unpleasant I made up my mind. Feeling I would need it, I slurped my sugary alcohol down.

“Nah,” I dismissed. “Top me off and let’s do this.”

Twilight Sparkle: "You see, Nightmare Moon, when those Elements are ignited by the... the spark, that resides in the heart of us all, it creates the sixth element: the element of... magic!"

Twilight and her friends were lifted up from the ground by the light of the Elements of Harmony which quickly became necklaces and a tiara adorning their respective ponies. Nightmare Moon watched in awe and denial as those elements ‘activated’ and their light combined into a rainbow helix which spiraled up and up until crashing down like a tidal wave which continued to spin and envelop her. Twilight, still floating with her friends with the power of friendship, opened her eyes and the screen blared to white as Nightmare Moon’s scream faded into nothingness.

By the time the credits rolled and I was taken out of the show by the outro I had to admit, “Okay, that was pretty awesome.”

“See? I told you!” Nathan insisted with drunken enthusiasm. He brought one of his hands on top of my head and vigorously rubbed me right behind the ear like I was a dog. I was feeling well-buzzed and the petting felt nice so I only stopped him gently by pushing his hand away.

“Sorry. I just really wanted to pet you again,” he apologized for what his liquid bravery got him to do.

“Nah, you’re fine. It felt… nice,” I admitted. I couldn’t be too upset, my head was sort of right there and at the perfect level. He started petting me again. It was a little creepy how easily the gentle tingling it caused relaxed my muscles and spread down my neck and my back.

“...okay, okay,” I stopped him after a moment. “I didn’t say you could keep doing it.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized awkwardly. “So do you want to keep watching?”

I glanced down at my drink. By the end of the two part-er we ran out of Pepsi and were low on Jack Daniel’s. Nathan had already switched back to his Keystone. We were low, but that was a really strong opening. I could see why people would want to keep watching.

“Yeah, why not! The night is young,” I exclaimed. It most certainly wasn’t. “Top me off with more Jack and scoot the chips closer.”

And so we watched our new technicolor pony friends we just met squabble about a ticket to some fancy ball for twenty minutes. I thought the conclusion Twilight reached at the end was surprisingly mature but then Princess Celestia just sent her more tickets and made the episode’s whole predicament kind of pointless.

By the time Spike ran off giggling with his golden ticket I was a little checked out of the show. It might have been because of the alcohol. It might have been because of the less fantastical plot. It might have been Nathan feeding me chips in exchange for head scratches.

“So what did you think?” Nathan interrupted our post-outro silence.

“I don’t know,” I hesitated. “It was kind of a boring plot compared to the pilot.”

“Yeah, they get better,” he promised. “I really like the Zecora episode coming up soon.”

“That’s a weird name for a pony.”

“She’s a zebra actually.”

“Huh,” I replied. They added a zebra? I was still looking for other ponies. “So I see myself a lot and I see Minuette... When do Comet Tail and Ruby Pinch show up?”

“Later. And I don’t remember seeing them as much,” Nathan admitted. “I only know who Comet Tail is because the fandom was shipping him with Twilight.” I had just enough knowledge of ‘shipping’ and ‘waifus’ from exposure to know what that meant.

“No kidding? Does Comet Tail talk to her?”

“I don’t think so? The shipping started because they were standing next to each other in a crowd in The Last Roundup.”

I blew a raspberry at the absurdity. “Yeah, that makes sense! Horny bronies...”

“Hey, we worked with what we had! They were both astronomy-related unicorns. It did make sense!”

“Yeah, well, the real Comet Tail’s gay. So the bronies were wrong there,” I gossiped.

“The real… ?“ Nathan looked confused for a moment until it clicked. “Oh! You mean Connor?”

“Well, duh,” I waved a hoof. “And we have a ton in common with the ponies we turned into. So obviously something must have happened to make it more obvious in the show or the show bible or whatever.”

“That doesn’t make sense: you’re Berry Punch. I forgot about that teenage pregnancy you had... and you giving birth to your sister,” Nathan patted my barrel for emphasis. I felt a little angry that his counterargument made more sense.

“I still care about her a lot!” I defended myself with all the drunk passion I had. “Ruby is... my everything! Even before all of this…” I gestured to all of me. “horse apples, she was sort of the reason I didn’t… drown myself in a bottle.” I confessed.

“Oh. Drown as in… kill yourself?” Nathan asked. I nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” He leaned in a little closer to rub my side and thigh for emphasis. It felt nice. It was probably the liquor loosening me up more. I leaned in in order to half-complete a sort of hug. I could smell that odd body odor and dried sweat smell on him again but I still didn’t really mind. There was something funny about it. Like maybe it came from a weird diet. If it wasn’t for the sour overtone I thought my more sensitive nose would have actually found it… nice.

The TV was playing the next episode but I barely paid attention to it. Applejack and her brother were talking. He was… a really big stallion.

“You know...” Nathan halted the silent petting I was allowing in my drunken stupor. It was probably stupid to hit the whiskey harder instead of going back to light beer with him: the world beyond our couch felt like it was rocking back and forth. At the very least our ship was comfortable. Smelly, but comfortable. “You said you’re not gay… but… what if you’re still not gay?”

“That’s... how orientation generally works. Yes,” I agreed while slipping lower and laying my head on his leg. Between the stress of my walk and the alcohol I was feeling quite relaxed. He gently placed a hand down onto the side of my jaw and stroked it. He liked petting ponies and I kind of liked the sensation; this was fine.

“But, like, you’re a mare now,” Nathan reminded me again. “And Berry Punch apparently had a kid. So if you’re both straight that means you would like stallions.”

I sat up with great effort at that and looked up at him to see if he was joking. He was not. He had to make this weird, didn’t he? I was going to have to set him straight again.

“I’m a straight human male. My name is Brian,” I reminded him. “He/Him.” I emphasized with two soft jabs at his leg. “This… this just isn’t my body; it’s Berry Punch’s.”

“But then if it’s Berry Punch’s body then how is it gay? Maybe your ‘weird horse vagina’ would like stallions?” he argued while quoting me.

I thought about all those funny feelings I had been having about Comet Tail’s body during this transformation. I was never interested in Connor before this all started. Something clearly flipped when this whole process started. I thought about what we were doing in my dream before Discord came and crashed our moment. Maybe my brain was trying to tell me something?

“...I bet it’s not even that weird looking,” he mumbled and brought me out of my thoughts. Nathan was patiently waiting for an answer.

“So… are you being serious right now? Are you... actually talking about me having sex like this? Like... with you?”

“I mean… yeah,” Nathan admitted. “I want to fuck a pony. You’re a pony. You’re pretty hot and cute and in the bathroom I really wanted to lift your tail and see what you looked like.”

I scooted back a little from his admission. I was thankful my face was already covered in purple fur because I felt my skin absolutely flush with embarrassment at what he was telling me. I was stunned. I knew he was kind of a weirdo but a 'horsefucker'?

“This could be a once-in-a-lifetime experience for us,” he insisted. “I could sleep with a pony and you could see what sex is like as a girl. It’s not gay if you’re female and I’m male, right? Plus, like, zero consequences: a human can’t get a pony pregnant.”

“But… my identity and…. stuff?” I stammered. I identified as a guy. Nathan said he could understand that but here he was saying we should have sex and it wouldn’t be gay. As if he couldn’t see me as ‘Brian’ anymore despite knowing it was me.

“I mean… if you don’t want to...” Nathan backed off a bit with his eagerness. “I know you’re probably not all that attracted to me anyway...”

“I mean, you’re not terrible but… if you were me, would you have sex as a mare? Like… take it? Just to see what it’s like?” I questioned him more out of curiosity than accusation.

“I totally would,” Nathan agreed surprisingly fast.

“Huh. And you... don’t think that’d be a little gay?” I asked for more clarification. “Or that it’s a little gay to fuck somebody who normally has a dick but they just don’t at the moment?”

“It’s sort of whatever,” Nathan admitted. “It’s so outside of normal definitions why not just... call it whatever you want?”

I thought about that line of logic. It seemed consistent to my alcohol-laden brain. Nathan reached out to gently stroke under my chin like you would a dog. It reminded me of how a girl would stroke my beard in the afterglow. Him touching me was comforting. I wondered if my coat somehow made my skin more sensitive.

“So… what do you think?” Nathan asked.

“I think…” I started and laughed. “...that I’m not nearly drunk enough for that. Sorry.”

“Could I... do something to make it better for you? Like… I could do whatever you want. Or I could get you something to make it worth it for you? Whatever you want.”

I was a little confused with myself why I was considering it. Maybe it was the half hour of drunken pets. Maybe it was an emotional rebound from the rejection from my family. Maybe this body was feeding me weird hormones. Or I wanted to help a friend out who smelled funny but in a good way… He really wanted this.

I thought about what I wanted. I wanted my old body back. But what I wanted most was to be cuddled up with Ruby and away from that woman. I wanted to look Ruby in her beautiful eyes without seeing that rejection... The color of which I associated with absinthe for so many years.

That stuff felt like the closest approximation. What would that be like with my new sense of smell? I remembered the intensity of the smells of the Jameson. The raw shuddering heat it drew out of my body. I felt part of my body wetten in anticipation and it wasn’t my mouth. I was piqued. Maybe?

“...absinthe?” I tried him without making eye contact.

“The... alcohol? The store’s closed,” he looked defeated.

“Yeah, but... Judy’s over on 6th is still open, right?” I recalled. The clerks there back in the day never carded me.

Nathan checked the time on his phone then looked up to me. “So… I’ll get you absinthe and then.... will you show me?”

I felt my face warm up again. The blush probably wasn’t noticeable but I felt my ears slacken a bit. I realized the expression on my face betrayed any hidden blush just as well.

“We’ll… talk,” I promised what I could.

A saw a twinkle of focus in his eyes. He smiled and agreed. “Alright, yeah! I’ll be right back!”

He immediately went to go put his shoes on, still in the t-shirt and shorts he changed into earlier. He locked up as he went out and I heard his car start up and leave.

When he got up I saw a very obvious erection. The surrealness of this situation was about on par with the first time I saw my pony ears.

“Berry, what the hell did you agree to?” I asked out loud.

After a moment of gathering my focus I climbed off the couch and carefully sauntered over to the bottle of Jameson still out of its bag. I unscrewed the bottle from the cap and spat the cap away like last time. I took a long whiff and explored the earthy scents in my nose. It was warm and musky, almost like a cologne.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” I asked the bottle of whiskey. When it didn’t speak I took a long pull from it. The warmth filled my mouth and gently warmed my insides like a fire. My body shuddered a bit as the smell lingered in my nostrils. With my drunken hooves I had to sit down before it knocked me down.

So my sense of smell definitely got stronger when the transformation finished. But what if something else changed: my sexual preferences? What if we were still changing, but mentally now?

I decided to do an informal scientific test. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the last guy I saw in porn. I tried to really visualize him and…

Nothing. Not disgust. Just... nothing.

I thought about the woman involved instead. Her breasts, her hips, her voice...

When that proved boring I tried to think about past girlfriends. I thought about the dates I went on, the pictures we exchanged, the dates ending in the back of the pickup truck or in somebody else’s bed…

There was still something there, I thought. My body still seemed to respond to those old memories. I thought harder about one night, in the afterglow where we finished off the wine and I tried to impress her with the astronomy I picked up from Comet…

“But... you’re a mare? Aren’t you attracted to stallions now?”

My vivid dream from earlier came back. I could still feel Comet’s tongue pressed into mine, our sweetened breath mingling together and my hoof finding its way up his fuzzy chest. My breath quickened in my dream and in reality. My body felt like it did on the first long pull of Jameson.

“Oh buck,” I muttered to myself. I was ambivalent to the heat building between my legs. I took another pull from the bottle in my grasp. The burn tracing its way down my esophagus complemented the burning under my tail well. I could almost swear they met in my lower half somewhere. Yeah, the alcohol definitely wasn’t helping.

I definitely still liked the curves on human females… but there was something exciting about the musculature on a stallion. I remembered when I saw Comet’s well-toned flanks and when he showed me what a horsecock looked like. I tried to imagine what that thing would look like erect and I started to feel uncomfortable sitting on my haunches.

There was definitely something about stallions. But if I still like human females and just like male ponies as well… maybe this arousal of stallions was just from this body? Something about her personality that sits with mine now, like my name. If they both still existed separately then maybe they could co-exist? I was just… temporarily bisexual?

This was... acceptable. I was still me, regardless of what this body changed. Regardless of what happened or what I did I was still me.

I tried to get to my four hooves. My brain was too drunk to make them work automatically. The cadence to walking felt as complicated as dancing. I focused on each leg as I moved it and fell down right in front of the couch. I was too drunk to walk. I was going to beat myself up over how drunk I was but decided against it. I deserved alcohol for putting up with this stupid pony thing.

I got back up onto my hooves and struggled back onto the couch. With my mind distracted by incomplete thoughts of ponies swimming through overly sweet whiskey, Nathan barely felt like he was gone five minutes.

“I’m back!” he said as he came in and kicked his shoes off. He was carrying another two-liter of Pepsi and an off-green bottle of absinthe. He sat the bottle down on the coffee table in front of me. “Is this right? This shit’s expensive.”

I sat up and looked at the bottle’s label. A fresh bottle of absinthe, just like that? I excitedly nodded. “That’ll work! But if you try to mix that Pepsi with it I’ll put it up your butt sideways.”

Nathan chuckled at that and went to go put up the Pepsi. “So, do you just drink that straight? The guy at the store warned me to dilute it with sugar and water.”

“That’s how I did it at first, yeah. But nah, it’ll be fine,” I waved it off with a hoof. “Come open this thing for me!”

I was eager and found myself salivating. From the odd throbbing under my tail I wasn’t sure if my body understood this was for my mouth. Nathan obediently plopped down right next to me and satisfyingly cracked the bottle. He handed it over.

I wrapped my hooves around it and brought it close. I could smell the fennel wafting off the bottle. I inhaled deeper and shuddered at the smell. An earthy, bitter anise assaulted my senses but I gave in to the smell. My nostrils flared up involuntarily like I had to sneeze but instead I felt my nostrils pucker like my mouth did when chewing sour candy. My face relaxed and inhaled the smell deeply all over again. My nostrils flared again as it wafted through my nose and mouth. My whole jaw tensed and then relaxed into a shudder that made its way down my spine and out my tail.

“Buck me,” I muttered happily. I thought I could feel my tail try to swish around in my sweatpants. I gestured to the bottle for Nathan. He took it and sniffed curiously. He frowned.

“It smells like licorice,” he complained. I rolled my eyes. I was used to hearing that. He poured a little into my empty cup anyway. And then a little for himself. I lay down so that I could get my long neck over the straw.

I put my mouth on the straw and sucked slowly with my eyes shut in concentration. For my efforts a steady, fiery spirit spilled into my mouth. Once I had a good mouthful I played with it in my mouth and let it dance across my tongue. The taste of anise and fennel flooded my senses. There were citrus notes, a bunch of things I didn’t recognize, and coriander. The latter I only knew about because I used to chop it at the old folk’s place. My palette satisfied, I swallowed it down. A deep sigh from inside me escaped. It was good absinthe. Very good. It was strong, aromatic, and complex. The balance of botanicals commanded to be enjoyed, obeyed. But it didn’t taste like forgotten memories and it didn’t remind me of Ruby. It just tasted like good absinthe.

I turned to see what Nathan thought and saw he had been watching me instead of trying it. His hand was doing a poor job trying to hide a boner. His awkwardness was almost cute.

“Do you always drink like that?” he asked.

“Like what? It’s good stuff,” I said while encouraging him to try it. Nathan brought his glass up to his mouth and tried a tentative sip. I saw his brain immediately reject it.

“Oh my god,” Nathan croaked. There was a painfully soured expression on his face. He looked betrayed. I laughed at him and it came out more like a giggle. “You like that?”

“It’s delicious,” I insisted with a grin. I grasped my glass between my hooves and poured the rest of it into my mouth. The absinthe threatened to burn me from the inside out. I welcomed it and swallowed. I felt like I could breathe fire. The heat radiated from me.

My whole muzzle was dried out from the wafting heat of the alcohol but there was still another part of me wetting for attention. A part of me that spoke simply enough but with an unfamiliar accent.

“I don’t see how you can handle that,” he said as he poured the remains of his glass into mine. I happily went to sip my new dose. This time a little slower so as to not totally shock my body and make me vomit; I was admittedly quite drunk already.

Nathan took the opportunity to rub the back of my neck again, right across my mane and a little down my spine. I could tell what he was doing but I was so relaxed and already aroused so I didn’t want him to stop petting me.

“So,” Nathan started. With his other hand he fiddled with the sleeve of my shirt. “How about we get you ready for bed?”

Yeah, why not.

Buck it. Buck me.

The world wanted to bend me over, why not let a friend do the same? At least he would be grateful. Even I couldn’t deny I was curious. And I couldn’t deny that between thoughts of past sexual encounters, imagining stallions and all the alcohol in my system that I was horny.

I nodded my approval and saw him light up like a kid on Christmas morning. He was kind of cute in an awkward dorky way.

He tried to pick me up and carry me back to his bedroom. I was clearly way heavier than he thought though because instead of picking me up he ended up just dragging me off the couch. I barely caught myself just enough to get my hooves down before my face. I crumpled onto the ground and laughed.

“Horny bastard!” I scolded him and giggled. “Just let me walk,” I told him. I looked down at my mess of limbs and for a moment I couldn't tell the difference between my ‘feet’ and my ‘hands’. I sorted out my appendages and tried to stand again. I just ended up falling sideways.

“Berry? Are you alright?” Nathan asked as he came over to help. With his help I was able to stand again.

“You’d think walking drunk with four legs would be easier,” I told him. I told Nathan to grab the absinthe and help me. I used Nathan as a guide and a crutch to get down his hall and to his bedroom. A terrible smell assaulted my muzzle as we came into his bedroom. It smelled like him but saltier and less warm and musky. I didn’t want to bring it up and insult my host.

My walking aid sat my absinthe down onto his dresser that was otherwise covered in My Little Pony toys. As soon as his hands were empty and I had the edge of the bed to keep me upright he began stripping down. He was predictably pasty and pudgy. His body hair had grown wild without any intervention. When he was down to his tented underwear he turned to me with a grin.

“Let’s get you up on the bed,” he said as he directed my drunk hooves up onto the bed. He had to help me climb onto the elevated mattress by pushing my ass up onto it. He gave the cheeks a not very subtle squeeze as he did so.

Once I was on the bed he helped pull my shirt off and then rolled me over onto my back to help me get my sweatpants off. I was naked on someone else’s bed, a guy’s bed, but I was still aroused.

I felt awkwardly manhandled but still drunk and warm. On my back, because of my new anatomy, my hind legs stuck straight up and out by themselves.

Nathan just stood over me and appreciated my body for a moment before caressing my tummy with a hand. I felt my whole torso relax a little at the touch.

“Berry, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. I didn’t know how to feel about those words. His hand started working down between my legs but got caught up on my teats. My leg involuntarily kicked a little at his touch.

“Hey... those things are sensitive,” I whined as I watched what he was doing. He checked my facial expression before he started caressing one. My leg twitched involuntarily again. The sensation of him playing with it made my spine feel like it was squirming and I wanted to curl away from it. He started playing with the other one as well and I couldn’t squirm fast enough. I whined again at the touching and it came out more like a moan. It was a moan.

“Aww, they are sensitive, huh?” he smiled at me in his best ‘mischievous’ look as he traced one slowly.

“Y-yeah, a little,” I admitted. I felt needy but bashful. This was so out of my normal experience. He gave me one of his cute and goofy smiles before climbing on top of me. He caressed my face and let his fingers follow my jawline. He gently scratched me just under the chin; a comforting gesture of contentment.

“You’re such a pretty pony,” he insisted. I don’t think I had ever been called pretty before. It was a bit coddling but I had to admit it made me feel… wanted.

“You’re just saying that because I said you could buck me,” I teased him.

“Berry Punch, you are a pretty pony,” he insisted again. He bent down so that we were muzzle-to-nose.

He wouldn’t.

He kissed me right on the lips. Long, slow and romantic.

He did.

I pushed him away as quickly as I could. He pulled back immediately.

“No,” I scolded him. I rubbed my lips with the side of my hoof. “No kissing. That’s too personal.”

“Oh. Strictly ‘business’ then?” he said as he idly scratched at the little bit of extra fluff on the front of my chest. I nodded.

“Okay. Just tell me if I go too far,” He conceded. “Can I kiss you in... other places?” I didn’t know how to answer that. Seeing my indecision he decided to test the waters instead. He bent down to kiss my tummy. I flinched feeling his lips tickle me. His tongue found my belly button and licked at it. It felt ticklish and sensitive at the same time. I tried to slow my breath but my attempt at controlling my breaths just gave him an easier target. A shudder shook my system again and I felt another one of those weak moans escape my lips.

Encouraged by my noises his lips went lower and he started sucking and teasing my teats. I squirmed and moaned again at the attention they were getting. I was the definition of hot and bothered. I could feel my inner thighs tremble even though they were relaxed and to the side. I felt wet and overheated. I could smell myself over the smell of the room and bedsheets and there was no way he couldn’t too.

He gently teethed my nipple and I felt a nerve of lightning spark from the bite to between my legs accompanied by an involuntary squeak escaping my lips. He lapped at the bitten teat almost apologetically and I moaned louder at the sensitive teat’s mix of pleasure and pain. Finally he ended it by kissing it and then the other.

With that finality, I felt his tongue trace down lower until he found the area needing the most attention. I anticipated the beginning of my relief but he immediately stopped right where I needed him the most.

“So, uh, I’m not totally sure what to do here,” he admitted.

“Seriously?” I groaned in frustration. “You were doing so good and you stop now? With the amount of porn you probably watch?”

He looked a little hurt by that comment.

“Sorry, that was mean,” I apologized. “I’m just... frustrated you stopped. Just…”

In my drunken stupor I reached down with my hoof to masturbate before I realized the skills learned as a teenage boy alone didn’t quite transfer over.

I hesitated until later knowledge kicked in. I started slowly and gently grinding my hoof against the part of me that was boiling over in frustration and needing attention the most. I didn’t like how hard my hoof was but my tinier friend sputtered and crackled appreciatively to my petting either way. When I felt a familiar but concentrated tension begin to tease itself awake I knew I had found the method.

“Mmm. Yeah, right there,” I cooed with satisfaction. I laid back down. “Just… touch me here. And give those weird horse bits plenty of love too.”

Nathan took over again, licking and sucking right where I told him to. He was hesitant and had no confidence in his tongue but each lick still made me shudder and pant. It was like receiving someone’s first blowjob where they didn’t know what to do but somehow they could already deepthroat you. He wasn’t going to bring me to climax, but it felt overwhelming and amazing.

I felt a strange pulse inside of me like my heartbeat but slower. He seemed to sense it and respond more eagerly. I tried brushing the top of his head encouragingly and just let him continue that way for a bit as I melted into his bed.

I was jolted out of my relaxation by him grabbing my teat and roughly squeezing.

“Ah! Bit!” I moaned and tried to snap my legs closed. Instead, because of where his head was, my hind legs just wrapped around his head. He took that as encouragement and kept going. He squeezed and kneaded them even harder. I moaned more out of pain than pleasure.

“N-no. Stop!” I finally found my words again between the moans escaping me. He finally stopped.

“Am I doing okay?” he asked me, confused. I sat up a bit.

“Not... terrible? But... go easier on those things! And mix up the licking more: don’t just do the same direction, pace and pressure,” I instructed. Nathan nodded as if he understood.

“Do you want to try switching?” he asked. For a second I didn’t know what he meant.

“Switch? Like... my mouth on you?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah... no. I’m not sucking you off,” I put my hoof down metaphorically.

“What? But I’m… can I still stick it in?” he asked. He started caressing me between the legs again, this time with his fingers. Now he wasn’t ignoring those engorged lips. He was teasing me by slipping a finger in and out but not doing any probing or caressing inside. It made me realize how empty I felt. I felt my sex throb in need.

“Yeah, I need something in me,” I admitted. I was too well-lubricated with heat and alcohol to let any shame stick. I didn't care anymore.

Nathan stripped his underwear immediately. I had inadvertently seen plenty of guys down there in my life but it was surreal to look at one knowing that he was erect for me. I was probably staring a little too much.

“Keep winking for me,” he commanded. I was confused why he was asking for this so I winked an eye at him then the other.

He shook his head and then started touching me again. He was teasing me just against the sopping lips again, the tip of his finger only barely caressing the inside. It made my insides ache. I felt myself throb again. This time I was watching and immediately knew what he was talking about. I was surprised it could do that, but then again, it was larger than a human one.

“Just like that! That’s the hottest shit. Do that on my cock,” he instructed me as he clambered on top of me. I couldn’t help but notice just how jiggly his pasty body was as he moved. As he positioned an arm next to both of my shoulders he was able to position his face just above mine so that we could look into each other’s eyes. I became soberingly aware of the fact that this guy was going to put himself inside of me and something seemed off.

I needed something inside of me. This alcohol-fueled rage burning in my loins needed to be put out. And while Nathan was present, an alright friend, and the sheen of my juices still on his lips and chin was hot... my flight or fight response still kicked in. I covered myself with a hoof.

“Wait, I…” I started before I knew what to say. I thought about how to fix this scenario. I wanted relief but the truth was not with Nathan. My brain wasn’t angry that he wasn’t handsome. There was something more fundamentally wrong: he wasn’t a stallion. He seemed… alien above my fuzzy body.

“Are you alright?” he asked, worryingly. I looked away in shame and didn’t know how to explain the problem. I spotted the absinthe sitting pretty on his dresser. Instead of lying there as a mare and taking it from the stallion who wasn’t present, I thought instead about how ‘Brian’ would handle this situation: I wanted sex but not really with the person interested.

“Do you want to… do it from behind? Like... ‘pony style’?” I asked. I only assumed that was a term bronies threw around.

“Whatever you want to,” he agreed. He gave my tummy one last rub before sliding off to give me space to roll over.

“Hay, while you’re up… get me a shot of that?” I said gesturing to my green muse. He brought the bottle over to me while I tried to sit up. Instead of letting me hold the bottle he uncapped it and held it to my lips.

“Open up, Berry,” he teased me. I opened my mouth for the bottle and he poured the shot onto my waiting tongue with a little too much zeal. I wasn’t one to waste a drop though. I swallowed the burning anise fire down, barely letting it pass over my tongue on the way down. My snout puckered and I felt my nose leak a bit. I felt the fire plop into the inferno that was my insides right now.

“Good girl,” Nathan praised me suggestively. He put the absinthe back up and climbed back onto the bed.

“Don’t call me that,” I drunkenly hissed, even as I turned around to assume the position. My body begged for someone to deal with the heat radiating from my other end. I was grateful I didn’t have to look him in the eye now.

I heard a mumbled apology from him but he was already far away in my mind. When he grabbed me by the flanks I tried to imagine someone else was behind me, someone that would ‘work’ for his situation. The first pony that came to mind was immediately shot down. My brain spun until it came up with Applejack’s brother. He seemed more than capable of making me feel like a ‘mare’.

I felt the stallion lower my rear so that my entrance was lined up against him. I felt the head brush against my begging lips, testing me. My tail raised itself out of the way. I felt my insides quiver in anticipation of his entrance. I needed it. I winked.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.