It started rather innocently: a simple Sunday morning lounging in bed with Derpy, post-coital bliss and the promise of muffins. It’s pretty much the same routine as it’s always been. “We should go,” Derpy said.

I looked for a clock. “That late already?

She laughed. “No, silly. Manehattan.”

I’d mentioned Manehattan off-hoof this morning, and Derpy was once again expressing her desire to visit. It’s something that had come up a few times at this point.

“I keep telling you: get a sitter for a weekend, and we’ll go. It’s just a train ride away.” I nuzzled her, too busy enjoying her presence to really pay attention to the conversation. Her warmth against me, the feeling of her coat brushing against mine, this has become my new happy place.

She returned my nuzzle. “Maybe I can do it this weekend. I might be able to set up a sleepover or something. I really want to go.”

“Well, just let me know.” Again, half-listening, just keeping the conversation moving.

As much as I was enjoying the moment, my muscles began to twitch restlessly. “I think it’s time for a shower.”

“Yeah,” she responded, righting herself. She rolled herself off the bed with some effort, and staggered onto the floor. “You coming?”

“Mm-hmm.” I dragged myself off the cloud after her. After some shower cuddles and appropriate amounts of scrubbing, the two of us enjoyed another lovely meal of tea and muffins. We said our goodbyes, made plans to meet for dinner on Wednesday, nothing out of the ordinary.

Perfectly normal.

There was one client on my schedule between then and our dinner date. Bottlecap’s sessions are usually easy. She talks a lot, so I just have to listen. She likes to complain about co-workers and gossip, pretty standard stuff. She’s very passive in bed, I end up doing all the work, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I realize, I’ve been writing less and less about my normal sessions, and more and more about my interactions with Derpy. This relationship has become… the forefront of my life. Derpy has become the thing I think about the most, the thing in my life that warrants the most concentration. It’s a challenge, and, honestly, it’s a little scary that she’s on my mind so much. At times I feel like I’m thinking so much about her that I’m becoming… dependent on her.

However, at the same time it’s the most thrilling and exciting thing I’ve done in years. I’ve had higher highs and lower lows than I’ve ever had in my entire escort career thanks to this relationship. We’re officially dating; that’s what we’re calling it. It’s nice to have a label.

Wednesday was pleasant as well. Dinner at a restaurant. At this point, the whole town knew we were together. It was nice, in a way. It meant fewer confused stares. The waitress at the little pasta place was even used to me at this point. Overall, things were going fairly well.

“Hi there. What can I get for you?” I was appreciative of the familiar over-enthusiasm from the wait-staff. It felt sort of like home.

“The spinach ravioli for me. Water to drink.” I’ve taken to forgoing wine, seeing as Derpy can’t drink during the week.

“Sure thing,” she responded cheerily.

“I want theeeee…” Derpy browsed the menu. “… split pea soup.”

“And what would you like to drink?”

“Oh, just water.” She always forgets to ask for water. It’s adorable.

“Okie Dokie. We’ll have that right out for you.” She grabbed our menus and took her leave.

Derpy happily grabbed a breadstick from the middle of the table. “So, you seem pretty relaxed tonight, Guilty. Had a good week?”

“Yeah, I did. Very relaxed.” I grabbed my own breadstick and tore it in half. “Things have been very low-stress, lately.”

“Dhaass ghud,” she replied through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah,” I replied as I tore my breadstick, dipping it into some olive oil. I just smiled at her; I’ve come to cherish moments like this one. Not a care in the world, just quality time with the mare I love.

“MMMM, bvvfr M fvrgvt.”

“Run that one by me again.”

She swallowed. “Before I forget… I set up sitter for Dinky this weekend and I took the weekend off of work. We can go to Manehattan!”

My eyes bulged. “Wait, what? Really? ”

“Yep! What should I pack?” Her eager expression could light up a room.

“I… uh… warm clothes and a camera, I guess.” This was happening so quickly. I hadn’t been home in over two years, and suddenly I was going this weekend. “I… wow… that was fast.”

Derpy’s brow furrowed. “I told you I might be able to do it this weekend.” Her face betrayed concern. “Is... now a bad time?”

I shook my head. “No no, I do. It’s just… I dunno… so sudden.”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to go.” Her hoof found its way to mine. “It’s okay, really. We can just spend the weekend together here, if you want.”

I smiled at her. “No, we should go. It’ll be fun, an overnight trip. I know a good hotel.” As the shock wore off, the trip was sounding more and more exciting. No reason not to go. Nothing to be afraid of. “So, what do you want to do when you’re there?”

“I wanna go see the Statue of Harmony!”

I rolled my eyes.

“What?” she laughed at my apparent misery.

“It’s so… tourist,” I groaned.

“Guilty, I am a tourist.” She smiled triumphantly, as though that were some manner of accomplishment.

“Yeah but…” That smile… it had power over me. I didn’t dare disappoint it. “… fine… but that’s the only touristy thing we’re doing.”

“This trip,” she insisted. “There’s still a bunch of stuff I want to do.”

I stifled another groan. “To be discussed.”

It was Derpy’s turn to roll her eyes. “Okay then, what do you wanna do, Mister Manehattanite.”

Ideas exploded into my head. Good bars. Good dance clubs. Art Galleries. Plays. Culture. “Pizza,” I finally decided.

“Pizza?”

“Pizza! At Hardy’s on 36th. Best in the city. It is an absolute must.”

Derpy giggled. “Guilty, you’re adorable.”

I felt myself blush. “What? Why?” She’s called be that before, but I couldn’t figure out why she was saying it now.

“You’re so enthusiastic about pizza. It’s cute.”

“Don’t tell that to a Manehattanite. Pizza is serious business.” I stuck a tongue out at her. ‘Good, embrace the embarrassment. If you own it, it can’t hurt you. Classic Guilty.’

Derpy just smiled at me. “You really miss it, huh?” A single pang of worry. Just a flash in her eyes. Fear of some kind.

My brain was firing on all cylinders. ‘Identify the worry. Comfort your girlfriend. About me missing Manehattan what could— Actually this one’s easy.’

“Derpy, you know I’m here to stay, right? I’m not going to move back to Manehattan.” Flawless execution. Comfort complete.

Rather than the warm smile I was expecting, I received a stern glare. “Guilty, you’re doing it again.”

I blinked. “Doing what again?”

“You’re trying to fix problems that aren’t there.” She reached across the table to give me a soft punch in the shoulder. “Guilty, you don’t need to try comfort every time you think I’m just a little bit upset. I wasn’t even thinking about that.”

“But you...”

“I was just thinking how hard it must be on you to be so far from a place you love so much. I wasn’t worried, I was just…”

I lashed back, foolishly. “Feeling sorry for me?” I intoned.

She gave me a look. “Don’t turn this into that. We are not having the pity conversation right now,” she hissed.

I stopped myself. We fight a lot about that. I don’t like feeling pitied, and at times I perceive pity where there is none. But, Derpy was right, this was not that fight. My ears dropped in shame. “Sorry, you’re right. I just…”

“It’s okay,” she said, half-angry. She checked her surroundings, making sure no one had heard her minor outburst. She tore off another piece of breadstick. “Just… stop trying to fix everything… and stop thinking you can read my mind.” She took a large bite.

I wasn’t wrong, though. She was worried about that. I know that. I don’t suspect or think, I know.

See, this has become… a problem for us. I’ve come to know Derpy better than I ever have. As such, I’m getting even better at learning her tells, and knowing what she’s thinking. That’s just my special talent at work.

However, I… I sort of can’t help but try to act on those tells. It’s stimuli I can’t ignore. I see an upset Derpy, and I want to make her not upset. Call it training, or instinct, or conditioning it’s just… hard for me to let it go.

But the thing is it’s not my job to fix Derpy’s problems; she’s a fully grown mare. I just have trouble remembering that because… well because I care about her so much. Even harder though is the fact that I’m right! I’m not wrong about these tells, these stimuli, these problems that I can see. I know what she’s thinking a lot of the time!

But maybe that’s the problem. I can know what’s on her mind when… well… maybe she doesn’t want me to.

And that’s more than fair; everypony is entitled to privacy.

Maybe I can’t just be in a relationship. Maybe I’m literally incapable of leaving a person alone. I’m too perceptive to give a pony any real privacy.

Okay, now I’m just being silly, back to the dinner at hoof.

“Anyways…” I needed to change the subject. What were we talking about before? Right, Manehattan. “Would you want to go out drinking? There’s some good clubs. There’s really nice restaurants, if you feel like something fancy. We could see a play. What sounds fun?”

Derpy did her best to push off the foul mood I’d put her in. “I dunno, Guilty… drinking would be fun. I don’t get to do that a lot.”

A plan instantly formed in my head. “Perfect. I know a good dance club by a hotel. We can go, drink, dance, and just walk back to our rooms. Sound fun?” I added a layer of enthusiasm to my spiel. Anything to help lighten her mood.

She smiled, thankfully. “That sounds perfect, Guilty.”

The waitress returned at that moment. “Okay, that’s one spinach ravioli, one split pea soup, and two waters.”

Warm smile. “Thank you so much. Everything looks wonderful.”

“You’re very welcome. Let me know if you need anything else.” She gave a quick bow, and left us to our meals. It felt good, almost like I was nobody again. Like I wasn’t “the whore”.

Derpy and I spent the course of the meal planning the trip, and we came up with something of a schedule: the statue, then pizza, the museum of art, dinner, and then dancing. It sounded kind of like a perfect day.

“One thing, though.” I wiped my mouth, ravioli now devoured. “I have to stop by the old stable and say hi to Crook. If he finds out I was in Manehattan and didn’t stop by, he’d beat me. You don’t have to come; I’ll just stop in and say hi.”

Derpy’s eyes went wide. “No no no, you have to take me. I really wanna see where you used to work. I bet it’s awesome!” She had a giant grin.

“Sure thing. Of course you can come.” I smiled back. It would be fun seeing the old place…

…so long as I could keep under the radar.

“And, here you are!” the waitress cheerfully chimed. She placed the bill on the table. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Thanks.” I looked at the bill. Not a big expense, but not cheap. ‘I should pay. Derpy’s got enough on her plate.’

“How much?” she asked.

“I got it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Not wanting to leave further room for dispute, I pulled out my wallet.

Derpy frowned. “You don’t always have to pay, you know?”

Tactical smile. “Oh, come on. Let me be a gentlecolt.”

She laughed at that, and relented. I couldn’t help but feel a little shitty about that, honestly. I give her such a hard time about pitying me, but this was clearly me pitying her. I don’t know… is it pity if it’s what society expects?

I’m such a hypocrite.

I walked her home, like always. We talked about Manehattan, got ourselves excited. Everything was happening so fast. But even so, I was beyond ready. I suppose I’d been ready to take a trip home for a while. At her doorstep, I had a bit of a flash back. It was snowing, the town was asleep. It was just like the night of our fake date.

“What are you smiling at?” she asked.

I blushed. “You.”

“Aaaw. You’re sweet.” She leaned in for a kiss, which she received. As I broke away, her hoof found its way around my neck. “More.” she insisted, eyes still closed. I was pulled into a deep kiss, tongue and everything.

I’m getting better at kissing. No longer do our teeth knock together… most of the time. And, I’ve managed to learn what an appropriate amount of tongue, is… kind of. Hey, at least I haven’t drawn blood since that one time.

Yeah, I’m awesome.

As the kiss broke for the second time, I couldn’t help but smile. Neither could she apparently. We were both grinning like idiots. “Goodnight, Guilty.”

“Goodnight, Derpy.”

She disappeared into her house, and I made my long walk home. I didn’t get any sleep that night. I was way too excited. I kept thinking about pizza and dancing and a thousand other things.

That Saturday, I hurried over to Derpy’s early. We were going to take the 7am East to Manehattan. We’d arrive before ten.

I knocked on her front door, bright and early. “All packed?” I asked as she opened the door.

“Yup! Just gotta take Dinky over to Goldy’s place.” She turned back into the house and shouted to her daughter. “Sweety, you ready to go to Aunt Harvest’s?!”

“Yeeeeees!” she called back from within. Moments later a tiny unicorn with bright yellow saddlebags emerged from the home. “Hi, Mister Guilty.” she said with a yawn. “Why do I have to get up so early? It’s Saturday.”

I tensed. Kids. Awkward. I will say: I rather like the name Dinky uses for me. Mister Pleasure would sound weird from a foal’s mouth. Guilty, is a little to casual. Mister Guilty, on the other hoof, strikes an appropriate level of respect without being racy.

“Because. Mommy’s getting on a train, and she’s not going to leave you all by yourself.” She kissed her child on the top of her head with an audible “Mwa!” This, of course, cause Dinky to groan tiredly.

Derpy eventually noticed my awkward silence. “Tell you what. Why don’t you tell Guilty about your new friend at school?” Equal parts “wake up Dinky” and “Force Guilty to interact with Dinky.” Well played, Derpy.

As we walked Dinky regaled me with stories of young filly named Firelock. She was apparently quite the little unicorn athlete. Dinky and she had taken to playing hoofball. Truthfully I was only barely listening, but Dinky was content to simply talk about her friend. It kept me from having to actually talk to her, which worked just fine for me.

We arrived at Goldy’s house, or rather Goldy and Lily’s house now, and Derpy knocked on the door. I’ve seen the pair several times since they came to visit me that once. Things seem better between them. They have officially moved in together. They don’t seem to bicker as much. Things are at least more… stable… between them. I’m cautiously optimistic.

Lily answered, looking chipper and energetic. “Morning, morning, morning!” So much energy. She is clearly a morning pony. “And how is my favorite little foal?” she asked to Dinky, who was now marginally awake.

“I’m fine.” Insert adorable tiny yawn. “Where’s Aunty Harvest?” she asked tiredly.

“Well, sweety, she’s still sleeping. Why don’t you help me finish breakfast, and then we wake her up?”

Dinky smiled, and nodded in approval, before disappearing into the house.

Depry smiled at Lily. “Thanks so much for this. I know you guys are still getting settled and everything—”

Lily cut her off. “No problem at all. I love watching Dinky. We both do. Besides, I love that you two are visiting Manehattan. It sounds like a nice getaway.”

“Uh-huh! Guilty’s gonna take me to do touristy stuff, even though he hates it,” Derpy teased.

“I am, and I do. But tourists will be tourists,” I teased back.

“You’re lucky I like you.”

Lily laughed at our expense. “You two are always so funny, the way you play off each other like that.”

Derpy and I shared a look. She smiled warmly at me. “We’re just weird that way, huh, Guilty?”

“I guess.” I stuck my tongue out at her.

Lily chuckled at us. “Well, I won’t keep you. Go catch your train.”

With a friendly “goodbye” Derpy and I made our way to the train station.

It felt good to be on a train again. I hadn’t ridden one since I took my trip here. Bright and early, not a soul in sight, and we were headed to the greatest city in Equestria. All in all, it was a damn good morning. For a time, we just enjoyed each other’s company, alone on a train. As ponies began to filter in, our conversation lulled. After a time, we stopped talking altogether. We were just leaning into one another, allowing ourselves to simply share the moment. The shaking of the train, the din of other ponies’ conversations, it was pleasant.

As the city grew closer, more and more ponies stepped onto the train. Ponies catching the morning commute. Ponies heading into the city for a day trip, not unlike ourselves. A Griffin couple, giving everypony the stink-eye. It was already feeling like home.

Then we hit the bridge. Manehattan is only accessible by boat or train, and all trains go over the Hocklyn Bridge. We were close. I was almost home. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I was excited. Beyond excited. Home. I was home. Even now. Even after two years in Ponyville, Manehattan is still really home.

Once we were in the city proper, ponies started to come and go more frequently. The train car got really crowded, and Derpy and I were squished together, as seats filled up. Derpy had clearly never been on the train when it was this crowded before, she was getting a little uncomfortable. Bully for me; I got to play the role of protective boyfriend. I gave her hoof a firm squeeze, and shot her a comforting smile. She smiled back, and calmed down. She was going to have to get used to the crowds pretty quickly.

Our station arrived, and we made our way off the train. Squeezing ourselves by other passengers, and hurrying for the doors before they closed, bags held tight. You never forget how to get around in Manehattan.

And then we were outside. The tall buildings, the crowds of ponies, the din of the city.

Heaven.

“Guilty! Help!” My head shot around. Derpy was trapped behind a wall of ponies walking away from me, carried away by a current of indifferent Manehattanites.

“Make a gap, ya fuckin’ animals,” I shouted, catching up to the wave and physically parting them.

“Hey, watch it!” one of them yelled.

“Shove it, Hairpiece!” I took Derpy’s hoof and pulled her through. The sidewalks were busy as always. I was going to have to play escort for Derpy. “Stay close,” I said, leading her to the street. “Taxi!”

A pony pulled up, drawing with him one of Manehattan’s many many taxis. “Where to, mack?”

“Tiara Plaza,” I said, as I stepped onto the cart. Derpy quickly followed suit. “If you wanna wait, we’re goin’ to Harmony Island after we check in.”

The cabby just nodded, and off we went.

It felt good. The pace of the city. We went from train, to station to street to taxi in just over a minute. Things didn’t take forever here. I didn’t need to stop and say hi to everypony I came across. It was great… and Derpy is frowning.

“I’m so sorry Guilty. I got caught up looking at the buildings and, I just kind of got swept away.” Her frown deepened. “I can’t believe they wouldn’t let me by,”

“Don’t worry, Derpy. It’s Manehattan; it’s weird if you’re polite. You’ll get used to it. Everything moves a little quickly here, but don’t be afraid to push and shove.” That seemed to cheer her up. “Just don’t punch anypony. The cops will get involved, and it will be a whole… thing,” I teased.

She groaned. I think I reminded her about slugging Applejack. She punched me in the arm.

After some heavy traffic, a snooty concierge, a quick elevator trip to drop off our bags, and a steep fare, we arrived at the ferry station. Derpy’s mood shifted when the statue came into view.

Crook always had a joke about the statue. “Finally a broad big enough to take me in, am I right Guilty?” Always made me roll my eyes.

It is a pretty impressive statue, stories tall and rusted green with age. A gift from Prance, I think. I dunno. History blows. I sucked at history.

I’m actually not a stereotypical Manehattanite. I’ve actually been to many of the tourist attractions around the city. When Crook and I were kids we’d blow of school and sneak into tour groups. It was decent camouflage. Everypony assumed we were somepony else’s problem children.

So across the water we went. The ride was rockier than I remembered. I started to get a little bit sick. Derpy got a kick out of it. She gave her full attention to the tour guide as he rattled off facts about the statue and such. I didn’t really have any interest in what he had to say, but this was for Derpy.

All the hiking has been serving me well, as the walk up the steps didn’t even faze me. Derpy was a bit winded, but she wasn’t dying or anything. They let us into the head in small groups. It’s pretty cramped up there. Derpy and I got stuck with a family with four obnoxious kids. Derpy was too excited to care.

The view was what really got Derpy excited. “Ohmygosh Guilty, look! It’s the city!” Derpy really is rather adorable when she’s jumpy. Always shouting and pointing at what’s got her excited. I love her for it. She took a picture of the city, and asked the stallion to take a snapshot of the two of us. She got her film developed once we got back, those pics ended up looking really good.

“That was so much fun, Guilty!” She was still full of energy, giddy the entire ferry ride back.

I wrapped a hoof around her. “I actually managed to have a little fun. Even if it was mostly having fun watching you.”

We disembarked and made our way to another taxi. I didn’t want to subject Derpy to more train rides.

Then came that most sacred of acts: the consumption of pizza. Every Manehattanite has a “best in the city,” a pizza place that, to them, surpasses all others. It just so happens that my best happens to be the best. Anypony who doesn’t think that it’s Hardy’s on 36th is a fucking moron.

“So this is Hardy’s,” I excitedly explained to Derpy. It was clearly my turn to be giddy. “I used to get pizza here so often with Crook. Oh my gosh, it still smells the same.” My mouth was actually watering as I spoke.

Derpy giggled. “Guilty, you’re adorable.” She must’ve felt like I had minutes before. I’m sure I was just as giddy and excited about Hardy’s as she was about the statue. “Just cheese on mine.”

“Sure.” I walked up to the counter, and there he was: Hardy. He was an older Earth Pony, hefty guy, nasally voice. He’s been making pizza here for as long as I can remember.

“What’ll ya have.” I love his demeanor. He’s not friendly, he’s not trying to please you. Hell, he actually sounds a little bit annoyed, but I missed it. Everypony in Ponyville is such a pleaser; it’s nice to have someone in the service industry who doesn’t give a shit about me.

“One with mushrooms, one with nothin’.”

“Comin’ right up, that’ll be 6 bits.”

I hoofed him the bits and made my way to the table where Derpy was sitting. She was inspecting the restaurant, and not in an impressed way. It wasn’t a… a fancy place. It was… okay it was kind of falling apart. Fraying hoofball pennants on the walls, ripped wallpaper, the stuffing was starting to come out of the chairs, the tables were stained and scraped, and there were initials carved into them, but this was Manehattan. It’s not the idyllic, island city that everypony thinks it is. It’s more than the skyline, and pictures of busy brightly lit streets. It’s small local places, and the apartments on top of them. It’s traffic and loud abrasive people. I didn’t want Derpy to see just the pretty side of Manehattan. I wanted here to see all of it. And Hardy’s was a good little piece of my less-than-pretty city.

“Not what you were expecting?” I asked.

“Not… really,” she was trying to avoid insulting the pizzeria.

“It’s a dump, right?”

Her eyes widened at my bluntness.

“This might not be the Manehattan that you wanted to come see today: the shabby little pizza place that’s far away from any of the famous landmarks. But... this is the Manehattan I grew up in. I lived in a shitty apartment in a shitty neighborhood, and I went to a shitty school.” I looked fondly upon my surroundings. “Where I grew up wasn’t anywhere near as nice as Ponyville. But honestly, this is where I’m… the most comfortable.” I leaned back in my rickety chair. “Feels good to be home.”

Her face betrayed that pang of worry again. ‘Ignore it, Guilty. No need to start another fight.’

“I just wanted you to see my Manehattan, too. I love this city, all of it.”

She offered a smile. It seemed forced, but I wasn’t sure. Perhaps I was reading too much into it.

“Here ya go, kids,” said the pizza pony. “Bon appetit.” He placed two slices of pizza on our table. Fat and wide, thin and greasy, they stained the paper plates that barely held them.

“It’s huge,” commented Derpy.

“Dig in,” I said, wasting no time with my own pizza.

Fucking bliss. One bite and I was thirteen years old again, sharing slices with Crook, hard bought with our earnings from the Stable. Food has that power, I feel, to just kick your nostalgia into overdrive. Make you remember things you’d forgotten, just put you back in a perfect moment in time. “Guilty, it’s really good! Are you crying?”

I wiped at my eyes. Yep… yep I was. “I ‘aven’t had a decent fuckin’ pizza in two years. You bettah believe I’m cryin’.”

She giggled. “Your accent’s back.” She clapped her hooves a couple times. “I love it when you talk like that, it’s adorable.” As she snickered, she picked up her pizza and took another bite. An expression of ecstasy emerged on her face. “This is the best pizza I’ve ever had. I’m not joking.”

“Because Ponyville has no real pizza. I tried every pizza in town, and not one of them compares.” I quickly hid my accent again. Derpy likes to tease me about it. I get so comfortable around her… sometimes I forget to be proper. “Oh my gosh, I’m so happy right now.”

“I’m glad,” Derpy said. Just like I’d enjoyed her reactions to the statue, she was enjoying mine to the pizza
.

As we ate, I noticed that the owner was listening to the radio, hoofball by the sounds of it. “Who’s playin’?” I shouted to him.

“The Clubs and The Dashers. We’re down by two.” He removed his hat to rub his bald head. “Clubs’ve had a shit fuckin’ season.”

“Tough time to be a Clubs fan,” I responded. I didn’t actually know the current state of the hoofball world, it’s hard to keep up in Ponyville.

He chuckled. “I hear that.”

Derpy chuckled at our interaction. We quickly devoured the slices of golden goodness. Derpy more than enjoyed her first taste of real pizza. “So… museum?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!”

The rest of that day was bliss. We went to the art museum, which was a blast. I don’t know much about art, but I could spend days just looking at the exhibits in that place. Derpy and I spent our afternoon stumbling from painting to painting, sculpture to sculpture. We wandered from hall to hall just taking in everything we could. I offered to pay for an audio tour, but Derpy didn’t seem to want to know anything about the exhibits; she just wanted to look at them.

I’ve always had an appreciation for portraits. During my training, I always saw them as challenges. Obviously, I couldn’t read a portrait like I could read a pony. Ponies spoke and moved. Tells revealed themselves through time, with observation. But portraits were frozen, without movement. A perfect poker face. None of the subtle clues about emotion or attitude made it past the filter of the artist’s vision. The only emotions on the canvas were the ones that the artist wanted there. I could stare at a portrait for hours, searching for clues that weren’t there.

Derpy, on the other hand, had a love for paintings of action: battles between the three tribes, battalions of soldiers charging a hill, the princesses fighting on Nightmare’s Advent. They were all exciting events frozen in time. The dynamic made static.

Our next stop was dinner. After a quick trip back the hotel to change into something fancy, we headed to a nice restaurant nearby. The museum turned out to be a great idea; we talked about art over our meal. I splurged a little on a nice restaurant. Candle lit table, a bottle of wine (which Derpy actually got to drink), fried roses, the atmosphere was sublime. Derpy talked about Lily and Goldy. She also seemed to think that things were much better between them. She had, however, noticed that there was a period of time when Lily was very awkward around her.

I simply nodded.

She talked about Dinky and muffins. She mentioned that we should go visit the mantle ray again. I told her what I could about clients that had visited. Never used names, never left anything that could lead back to an identity. It made small talk difficult, but Derpy understood.

After dinner we took a cab to The Cricket Club. It’s a night club about half a block from our hotel. It’s a real night club too; live big band music, a well-stocked bar, no obnoxious bassy noise or neon lights or fog machines.

This was something that they didn’t have in Ponyville. I thought Derpy would appreciate it, she always says she wants to go dancing. After a couple drinks, we hit the dance floor. I might’ve been a little bit buzzed, but not so buzzed I couldn’t cut a rug.

I always enjoyed dancing, but it was never something that my training emphasized. I was taught just enough to seem like a good dancer, like so many other things. Furthermore, it’s a skill that seldom comes up in a session. Few mares want the whole “dashing prince” experience. Still, I’ve always been happy to have the training.

We danced in the crowd, everypony was well dressed, the air was thick with cigar smoke and heavy perfume. This was a proper club. As the night began to wind down, the fast-paced dancing music began to turn slow. Derpy and I gladly took the opportunity to lean into each other and enjoy a good slow-dance.

I felt... so close to her. The rest of the world melted away. All worries, all problems, all fears were just... elsewhere. All that niggled at me was somewhere far away, and all that I could see or even feel was Derpy, my cross-eyed little girlfriend.

It seemed to last forever, but it was still over too soon. So much had been happening, and we were having so much fun that the day just sort of flew by. Before I knew it, the bright lights were coming on, and everypony was leaving. It was sort of hard to believe. We’d had a wonderful amazing day in the city I love, and… and it was over.

As we left the club, Derpy leaned hard into me. “That was so much fun!” She stumbled a bit as she walked. Her drinks were catching up to her. “Guilty, this was the best!”

“I had fun, too.” I felt her wing drape over me. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“This was great. We have to do this again.” She stumbled into me a bit more as we made our way down the street. It was only a block to our hotel. I didn’t mind shouldering her weight.

As we approached the hotel I felt a tug at my shoulder. Before I could react, Derpy yanked me into an alley. “Whu—”

I was pulled into a hard kiss. “Mmmph—” I began to protest. My objection dissolved as Derpy broke the kiss, and began to pepper my neck with small pecks.

“What’s… unf… up with you?” I felt myself getting hard. Derpy’s arousal was palpable. Wine, Long Island Iced tea, and dancing had put her in an awesome mood. I felt a hoof begin to fumble with my zipper. “Here?”

I received no response. Rather than wait for an explanation, I decided to expedite whatever Derpy had in mind. I wriggled out of jeans. My erection began to bob beneath me. Derpy’s hoof caressed my length.

Before I made a move, Derpy repositioned herself in front of me. Tail swept to the side, begging for me to mount her. I wasted no time with foreplay; she wanted cock, and she was getting it. I hoisted myself onto her, and easily slid inside. Derpy whimpered with pleasure.

I started slow. The cold air accosted my moist member with each slow retraction. I kept my eyes and ears fixed on the entrance of the alley. I wanted to be ready to dismount and play it cool at the first sign of anypony.

Derpy began to get vocal, whimpers becoming moans. I shushed her, and she promptly muffled herself. Still, she fought back her moans of arousal, and her body began to move in rhythm with mine. We matched each other’s thrusts. They weren’t mighty slapping thrusts of flesh on flesh, they were careful, nervous, shaky thrusts. Eager but cautious, each one sent the squelching noises of our loins into the air. Ever watchful of the street, we continued our slow, rhythmic, intoxicating, mind-blowing sex. Every few dozen thrusts Derpy would moan and tighten and quiver. Her orgasms were powerful, magnified by the thrill.

Snow began to fall.

After being banished to the acre outside of Ponyville, I decided that trying to do anything with a client outside of my home would be a bad idea. As such I haven’t had sex anywhere other than my cabin in two years. Sex outdoors was even further taboo, I decided. One or two clients were disappointed I wouldn’t come outside to play, but it was just something I couldn’t risk.

But I wasn’t in that little backwards burg right now. I could enjoy a little bit of sex outdoors, and the worst that would happen was a fine for indecent exposure… and maybe becoming a registered sex offender. Okay, it was still pretty stupid, but there was no threat of reprisal from Applejack. No fear of being banished from Ponyville entirely. That was a plus.

It felt amazing. My skin tingled with anticipation. My chest felt light. The fear of getting caught does good things to sexy-times.

Minutes passed. It couldn’t have been more than ten. Once the sheer excitement began to wear off, I remembered something exceedingly important. “Potion!” I whispered somewhat frantically to Derpy. I pulled out of her.

For a moment, Derpy panicked. The way I pulled out so quickly, she must’ve thought we’d been spotted. “What? What is it?” she whispered back.

“Birth control potions. They’re in my case in the hotel room.”

Derpy’s eyes went wide. She’d also forgotten completely. She squirmed out from under me and immediately began to help me into my jeans. We raced into the Lobby and into an elevator. Twenty-seven floors of waiting, it was agony. We were hanging off each other. Kisses down the neck, nips at the ear. We almost didn’t see the doors open.

At what was almost a sprint we raced to our door. My drunken hooves fumbled with the key. Derpy whined impatiently. Once inside, I made a beeline for my suitcase. Potion found. Cork popped. Brew swallowed. As I once again removed my jeans, I spun my head around. Derpy was already on the bed, legs in the air, hooves frantically rubbing her aching sex. “Hurryyyyyy,” she whined.

Hurry, I did. I was on top of and inside her before she could whine again. The sheets were cold when I climbed on, but they didn’t stay that way for long. Free to moan as loudly as she pleased, Derpy began to give off deep, throaty grunts of pleasure. “Oh… fuck!”

My mind was gone. I was drunk and horny and tired and all I could think was to thrust. I fucked hard, plunging into Derpy’s warm and oh-so-wet entrance with abandon. I don’t think it lasted five minutes, but it really didn’t need to last any longer.

Derpy came hard. Her marehood clenched down onto me with near violent force. I was almost pushed out of her with how much she squeezed me. “Oh… Guilty!”

My climax was next. Lightning in my spine. My entire body clenched around Derpy’s frame. I came… so much. Volume-wise, I mean. There was just… so much of it. It just kept coming and coming. After several seconds of bliss, we both went limp. It took nearly a minute to pull myself off of, and out of, her. I just… felt too good to move.

“Oh, holy shit,” I said dumbly. I rolled to the side, hips still twitching.

“Y-yeah,” Derpy responded. “Th-that was… the best. Like the best… ever.”

I nodded, though she couldn’t have seen me do so in the dark of the room. We hadn’t even turned on the lights. “It was…” I swallowed. My throat was dry and my breaths came in great heaves. “It was something, alright.” I could feel my heartbeat in stallionhood. My skin tingled. “Fuck…” I sighed. I couldn’t think. My mind was fried.

“Oh, my gosh,” Derpy said tiredly. “I… I can’t even think.”

“Me neither,” I responded. “I love you.”

Time stopped.

‘I… I did not just say that.’

A second passed. Then another. Derpy didn’t say anything. She didn’t move.

‘I fucked up… I fucked up, I fucked up. It’s happening again.’

I was shaking. Fear was beginning to take hold. I could think again. I couldn’t not think. Was this all it took? Was this what it took to ruin such a great relationship? Did saying that just make it too real?

‘I’m stupid stupid stu—’

“Wow,” she said. “That’s… wow.”

“I-I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“I-I just… I didn’t… I’m not…”

“I-I’m sorry. I...” My throat was closing up. I couldn’t breathe.

Derpy could see me panic. “Guilty, it’s okay.”

“I… I…” It was that fear. That absolute unfiltered fear. That fear when your secret is discovered. Did this count as a secret? I didn’t care; I couldn’t think. I just felt like… like the world was imploding. “I didn’t mean…” I was starting to cry. I didn’t want to cry. Why was I crying?

“Guilty. It’s okay, really it is.” Her hoof found my shoulder.

“I just…” Tears and panic. “I don’t want to screw this up. I know that we’re in kind of a fragile position and… and…”

“Guilty!” she shouted. “It’s okay!” I began relax. I could breathe again. “It’s okay.” She stroked my mane. “It’s okay.”

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay…”

“I just… I’ve felt this way for a while, I just… I didn’t want to make it too real.”

Derpy took a deep breath. “I-I know what you mean.” She chuckled nervously.

“Did… did I? Make it too real, I mean.”

She didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry.”

“I-it’s okay.”

“Did I…” I laughed nervously. “Did I fuck up our weekend?”

She thrust her face into my shoulder and shook her head. “No way. This… is awesome.”

“Good… good.” I swallowed. My panic had subsided. “I think…” I yawned. “I think I’m tired.”

“Me too.” Her head found my chest.

We fell asleep like that, with me as her pillow, trying not to think about what had just happened.

Before I passed out, I couldn’t help but lament the fact that she did not say it back.

I'm such a putz.

Author's Notes:

Thank you all so much for being patient. Writing this story has been an absolute trip, and I'm always happy to give you all a brand new chapter.

The rest of Guilty's Manehattan adventure will be coming as soon as i find the time.

Thanks once again to coandco, Blackskulls, aquapunkchick, and Jake the Army Guy for polishing my fic to a mirror sheen.