We did the best with the arrangements that we could, given the time. Being that I wasn’t sure of the plan myself, it took a little while to work it out with Cheerilee. Honestly, even minutes before the boys arrived, I was still nervous. I could feel a shake in my hand as I laid out the plate of cheese and crackers and set the longer living room table with glasses and plates. I wasn’t sure if anyone there would be eating, but I had to at least assume things would proceed as normal – or, as ‘normal’ as I hoped they would.

A knock came at the door at a quarter to nine, which meant it had taken Big Mac only half an hour to round up the other two guests of honor. Cheerilee had keyed me in on her personal request, and though I’d batted an eyelash, she’d assured me there was method to her madness.

Cheerilee dashed to the door the second she heard the knock and threw it open without checking the peephole.

“Come in!” she said, opening the door with a sing-song tune in her voice.

Big Macintosh was the first to come inside. Two other ponies followed him: a shorter yellow-coated stallion with a well-oiled brunette mane and a set of horsehoes on his special talent spot, and a lanky, off-orange pony with bright green, unkempt hair and a snail cutie mark on his flank.

The last entrant got a raised eyebrow from me.

“Aren’t we going to be serving drinks?” I asked Cheerilee, already confused about her choice in particular pony attendance.

“Snails isn’t exactly a young colt, dear. He’s a little... slow, but he’s a darling. It does mean he’s been held back a few times, however, which means conversely that he’s probably quite close to being of legal age for a few glasses of Apple Family Schnapps. It’s a line I feel comfortable blurring, in any case.”

I’d started drinking when I was sixteen, so I could see where she was coming from.

Plus, there was something else to the colt – Snails’ – invitation. Cheerilee wouldn’t have asked for him without knowing what my plan was, or without having at least slight inkling.

“Don’t you feel weird about–”

“Like I said, dear; he’s old enough to drink, in my mind. I don’t see why other ‘adult’ activities shouldn’t go along with that.”

Good enough for me, I guess.

And, I had to admit, I wasn’t used to seeing Cheerilee being that forthright. Regardless of what happened next, the idea of her being a sultry, drunken minx towards one of her students, slow though he might be, was kind of exciting.

That all aside, the evening wasn’t about to proceed without getting to know the guests in attendance.

Big Macintosh I already knew, mostly from the times I’d seen him around town, and from Cheerilee’s explanation before his re-arrival. Apparently they’d had sort of a ‘thing’ for a while, but had broken it off as fast as it started. She wasn’t keen to get into the details, but she let me know that while she still thought he was a sweetheart, there was nothing really romantic left between them. They had stayed good friends though, she insisted.

So, that was two, including the green-haired colt with a dopey smile across his face – but what about mystery guest number three?

“This here’s my cousin Caramel,” Macintosh ventured by way of introduction as he closed the door behind himself. “He’s in town for a bit, and uh, I figured he might have a good time at this, er… dinner party.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Caramel! Always nice to see a new face in Ponyville, even if it’s just for a little while.” Cheerilee extended a hoof in an attempt at a hoof-shake or bump of some sort, but Caramel reacted as though there was a loaded gun staring him in the face. His eyes shot to the ground, he leaned his head low and hid his face under his mop of shiny brown hair, and he returned the gesture like he’d rehearsed it in a hostage situation prep course.

“Nice to meet you…” he murmured.

So he was a bit shy then. Hopefully that wouldn’t put a kink in the evening’s plans.

“Hi, Caramel! I’m Samantha.” I tried to sound as bubbly as possible, helped in part by the several glasses of wine still making their way through my veins. I always felt a little weird offering a handshake to someone without hands, but given that there wasn’t really a better way to introduce myself, I held out my palm and waited for Caramel’s hoof to meet it.

He returned the gesture in the same way he had with Cheerilee. I could feel the quiver along his foreleg as I shook his hoof. Poor guy seemed so out of his element, I almost felt bad for him. He reminded me of myself in a way; I’d never been that awe-struck nervous before, but I certainly remembered instances of family members or friends dragging me out for a night’s activities I’d protested before they’d even started. Being somewhere you don’t want to be is a miserable experience, regardless of  the ‘why’.

Maybe I’d just have to find a way to help Caramel loosen up.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” Cheerilee said from behind me, interrupting my pondering on the subject of Caramel’s nervousness. “We’ve got things all set up in the living room, just this way.” Cheerilee gestured to the spacious carpeted room to the right of the house’s entrance.

I followed her with my hand still on Caramel’s hoof, dragging him along like a kid on a reluctant playdate. I felt like if I let him go he might go sprinting terrified into the night, and I didn’t want that to happen. Three stallions was just the perfect number for an enjoyable evening, after all.

Big Mac kept an eye on his cousin as he and Snails followed myself and Cheerilee into the living room. True to Cheerilee’s statement, the boys were greeted by the array of snacks and drink glasses we had laid out, as well as the prominently displayed bottle of Apple Schnapps Cheerilee had placed at the center of the table. For seating arrangements, her garish poofy couch was on one side of the table, and two chairs for us were set up on the other. One of them looked like leather, but it was hard to tell. A cow might be someone you said hello to on your next trip into town, so using their skin for furniture didn’t seem likely.

Cheerilee gestured to the couch with her foreleg and Snails hopped on without a second thought, squishing the padded cushions underneath himself and squirming around for a second before he found a comfortable sitting position. The idea of ponies sitting upright like people was always a bit weird to me, but they managed to find ways to not look entirely akward or creepy; usually a mix between some kind of cross-legged position or lying back with their hind legs raised as necessary.

I’d never sat across from a stallion seated like that. I wondered if I’d be able to see…

Big Macintosh took his seat at the couch opposite Snails, which left room for Caramel right in the middle. I realized I still had my hand on his hoof, so I let go as gently as I could manage to avoid startling him. He gave me a tiny smile before settling in between his cousin and Snails, who was looking around at the room like an amazed connoisseur in an art gallery.

“Would anypony care for a drink? We have a lovely selection that was delivered by Big Macintosh just this evening.”

Cheerilee was an excellent host. Our guests had barely just walked in the door and she was already offering them refreshments. It might have been a little rushed in normal circumstance, but for tonight, I was happy to get the drinks out as soon as possible.

“That’s okay,” Caramel said, speaking before the ponies on either side of him. “I’m not thirsty.”

Big Macintosh looked up at us from beside his cousin with a sympathetic frown.

“Caramel, uh, doesn’t really drink that much.”

“Nonsense!” Cheerilee countered, popping open the bottle of schnapps and tilting it towards one of the three glasses across the table. “What kind of host would I be if I didn’t let all of our guests sample this wonderful delivery? I insist, you have to at least try a taste.”

Caramel bit his lip, hiding a protest as Cheerilee filled his glass to the brim with sparkling green schnapps. Big Macintosh eyed the glass wearily but said nothing.

“And you as well, Big Macintosh?” Cheerilee poised the tip of the bottle at the edge of Big Mac’s glass and smiled at him with her eyes half-open.

Big Mac considered the offer for a moment.

“Ah, sure, what the hay.”

Cheerilee beamed at him. The schnapps flowed as soon as the last syllable had left Big Mac’s mouth, and after a few seconds his glass was full as well.

“Snails, would you like to try some?” Cheerilee’s voice sounded different when she spoke to Snails. I could hear the teacher’s annunciation in her intonation, coating every word in nurturing sympathy and pronouncing every letter slow enough for the presumably bit-behind colt to keep up with. It was adorable – and, given the context, a little naughty, which made my face feel even more flushed than the wine had made it feel previously.

“Sure!” Snails said without a second thought. Cheerilee topped off his glass just as quickly, and Snails was the first at the table to take a sip, knocking back more than a healthy mouthful. He swished the liquid in his mouth for a second before swallowing.

“It tastes… sparkly.”

Cheerilee grinned at him.

“Yes Snails, that’s a very good word to describe it. It’s what makes it so delicious.”

Big Mac considered his glass for a second and then followed Snails’ lead with a shrug, downing more than half the contents of his crystal holder in a single gulp.

Caramel was more reticent. I could feel the tension of the surrounding peer pressure in his contemplation. Normally I would have been fine letting him pass, but dammit, he wasn’t going to be the only sober one at the table.

I leaned over as far as I could manage, lamenting the fact that the shirt I’d picked for the evening wasn’t one of the low-cut tops I’d managed to put together from local sewing shops. I did my best to squish my boobs together as I looked Caramel in the eye and smiled at him. My lack of a bra probably helped; I’d given up wearing them after the first month in Equestria.

“Come on Caramel. It’s good. Don’t you wanna try some?”

I sounded like every cliché older girl in an after school special convincing the naïve little kid to drink.

But it worked.

Caramel took one look at me, swallowed loudly to clear the lump in his throat, and threw back the entire contents of his glass in a single motion. My mouth fell open a little bit as he gagged slightly, then set the glass down on the table.

“Wow! I didn’t know we had such a talented drinker at the table. Very impressive, Caramel!”

His face was already reddening from the alcohol it was more than obvious he wasn’t used to, but my voice got an extra rosy tinge out of his cheeks.

Mission accomplished so far.

“So,” Cheerilee started, content that everyone at the table had been given the appropriate means to accelerate their lack of sobriety, “how are you gentleman this lovely summer evening? We’re so happy you were able to come. The night was just dragging on before you three got here.”

Caramel blushed even harder, and Big Mac looked to the side nervously as if he wasn’t sure how much of Cheerilee’s speech was meant to butter him up and how much of it was sincere. Snails didn’t look like he cared either way; he just smiled wide and helped himself to another sip of his schnapps.

You’d figure a kid’s first drink would go right to his head, but it was hard to tell with Snails. Even if he was black-out drunk, I’d be hard pressed to notice the difference. He always looked kind of… dopey. Smiling all the time. Like his eyes were lost in a permanent haze of not quite keeping up with what was going on around him.

“My night’s going great!” Snails answered, oblivious to the rhetorical nature of Cheerilee’s question. But, that meant it was a question to be answered after all, so Cheerilee smiled at Snails and turned to the other two stallions in attendance. Caramel had drawn himself out of his slouch and was sitting up a bit more, holding his empty glass like he was baffled over its lack of contents, while Big Mac occasionally shuffled back-and-forth on the couch  and looked awkwardly to the side every now and then.

“My night’s, uh… well, to be honest, it wasn’t too excitin’ until y’all invited us over.” Big Mac managed a small smile, and Cheerilee answered it tenfold.

“And Caramel? How are you enjoying your stay in Ponyville so far?”

“It’s…” Caramel drawled the word over his tongue as though he wasn’t sure it was the correct one. He chewed on a mouthful of nothing for a moment, stirring up the next part of his sentence. “…it’s been good. Big Mac’s shown me a lot of… neat stuff.”

Oh boy. Caramel sounded like he was already halfway to gone.

No complaints from me there.

“Wonderful! You know, it’s always a pleasure to have someone visit from out of town, especially a handsome stallion like yourself. It just brightens up the whole place!”

Caramel blushed but stuck out his chest a little, as though the word ‘handsome’ had reminded him he was supposed to be a masculine alpha male, invited over for drinks with two comely lasses lathering him in attention.

For a moment the five of us sat there, the boys with their drinks (or lack thereof) and Cheerilee and myself sitting and staring interestedly across the table at our guests. I took the initiative and poured a new helping of schnapps into Caramel’s glass, which he eyed with less disdain than his first helping. Schnapps does have a habit of growing on people – or ponies – after all.

“So,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

And that was it. I had this vague idea in my head about what I’d expected would happen with three immediately liquored young stallions invited over to our girl’s night, but… none of them had been realistic. I still wasn’t sure what exactly I wanted to happen, after all. I mean, I was pretty sure. Even if I wasn’t positive about what might occur by action or instigation, I did have a very concrete image in my mind of Cheerilee tracing her hoof up one foreleg, the size of my arm, wrist to elbow…

I glanced at the three stallions sitting on the couch. None of the three had assumed a particularly compromising position, but I imagined that given the supposed size of what I was looking for I might be able to catch a glimpse of something. No luck on the first two – Big Macintosh was seated very properly for someone I assumed was inherently down to earth, and Caramel was tucked up on his cushion like a kid still buzzing from his first taste of dad’s beer.

Snails though. I had to remind myself I wasn’t drinking anything to avoid doing a spit take.

Snails was sitting on the couch like a boy on the bus might, or at least one without any regard for the people sitting across from him. A homeless guy might have been a more appropriate analogy, because no guy with a modicum of manners would let himself… hang out like that. Snails had his legs splayed in either direction, and I could see very plainly between them; Cheerilee hadn’t been lying.

In fact, she might have been underestimating.

Maybe that was just an average.

Snails’… thing… was right there, between his legs. It wasn’t hard, or at least it didn’t look it from a distance – but even flaccid, it looked huge. Like, gigantic. Like, one of those ridiculous toys you see at the sex-shop and think to yourself, ‘who on earth would use something that big?’ It looked like a big floppy, slender forearm, bunched up between his knees and in plain view for me or Cheerilee or anyone else who happened to want to look.

Cheerilee was doing exactly that, noticeably enough that her hosting duties seemed very obviously in the back of her mind as she looked across the table and licked her lips.

I was beginning to see what she saw in the little guy after all. Maybe Snails was a big enough boy to hang with the evening's crowd after all.

I cleared my throat and turned my eyes to the side in an attempt to reconstruct my attention elsewhere. If I wanted to, I could easily get distracted speculating on the size of the monster between the orange legs to my right, but there was still a whole night ahead, and I very dearly wanted to see if Snails was the bar set at the top of the standard or just an average.

My ‘so’ was still hanging in the air, and I could tell without further prompting it might just sit there forever. So, with that in mind, I gave Cheerilee a tiny nudge under the table, tapping onr of her hind legs with my foot. I would have hissed a whisper at her as well, but overt signals were to be avoided at the moment. Although… there wasn't really anything subtle about the way we'd asked the guys over in the first place. Short of putting up a banner that said ‘we wanna fuck’ in the middle of Cheerilee`s living room, we'd be hard pressed to mask our rapidly realized attentions any less than we had.

Cheerilee jerked in her chair as though I’d kicked her a little too hard, but she snapped out of her pointedly focused daze and sat up at attention immediately, picking up where I’d left off.

“So,” Cheerilee started, shifting her chair a little to get an eyeful of all three stallions instead of just her wonder-student, “now that you’re all here, I must admit… Samantha and I did have a bit of an ulterior motive in inviting you.”

I swallowed a mouthful of nothing with a noticeable gulp. I wasn’t expecting Cheerilee to dive right into things, but I trusted her judgement; that, and I wasn’t about to say no to speeding up the progression of the night’s events any further.

Big Mac looked up over his glass with mild suspicion, but Caramel and Snails stayed mostly blank at Cheerilee's sudden confession, the latter staring bemusedly forward and Caramel nursing his new glass of schnapps as though it held the secrets of the world inside its sparkly green bubbles.

“Samantha and I spent the whole night talking about it… really, having you three over was the only solution. So, I’m going to ask you all something, and I’d like you to be upfront with your answers.”

Big Mac kept his suspicious eyebrows raised. Snails simply nodded, and Caramel bobbed his head in a bit of a delay, still further away from the conversation than anyone else.

“Which of us,” Cheerilee started, turning to me and pointing with her hoof, “do you think is prettier?”

I coughed, but quickly muffled myself to the best of my ability. It didn’t do to burst into a coughing fit with three stallions silently ogling me – at least, I hoped they were ogling me.

Still; that hadn’t been what I was expecting.

“Huh?” Caramel asked, blurred by the haze of his schnapps.

“We were just thinking...” Cheerilee went on, placing her hoof on my lap. I’m not sure if it was the alcohol, or how much I’d noticed the softness of Cheerilee’s touch before, but I felt a tingle run through my leg as her hoof settled on it.

“...that the two of us are so terribly lonely these days,” Cheerilee continued. “Surely there must be something we’re doing wrong. Maybe neither of us is cute enough to get any attention? And then of course, one thing led to another, and now we have a bit of a debate to settle, and we were hoping you three gentleponies might be able to give us some assistance. We’d be ever so grateful.”

Cheerilee’s voice was thick and sultry like delicate honey, and the way she batted her eyelashes at the stallions across the table made my heart skip a beat, as well as sending a twinge to other places apart from my chest. The effect of her tone didn’t go unnoticed on the boys either – even Big Mac, who seemed set on keeping himself as stoic and composed as possible, let his stern expression soften, and I think I detected a hint of blush in his cheeks as he leaned back on the couch.

“Were you lookin’ for us to make a call right this second, or-“

“Oh no no no, of course not. That wouldn’t be fair to you or to us,” Cheerilee interjected. She finished of the last tiny sip of her own glass of schnapps (that she’d poured without me noticing, evidently) and leaned towards Big Macintosh, swishing her tail behind her head.

“We thought some sort of contest might be in order. Nothing showy, of course… just a simple demonstration of our best features, to help our wonderful judges make their decision. Does that sound alright to the three of you?”

“Sure,” Snails chimed in, either completely oblivious to the gears turning in Cheerilee’s head or playing into her plan more subtly than he seemed capable of. Caramel mumbled an ‘okay’ from the middle of the couch before closing his eyes for a moment, and both Cheerilee and I rested our attention on Big Mac, leaning forward in anticipation.

He looked down at his half-finished glass of schnapps, back up to us, and then back down to his glass. After waiting no more than a few seconds, he raised the glass to his lips and drained the rest of its contents, then set it down on the table with a tiny ting.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he said, grinning.

Cheerilee and I grinned back at him.

We didn’t do any preparation. Like my plan to Cheerilee, I’d had no idea about what her plan might be, but I played along to the best of my abilities in the interest of bringing things along in whatever direction she saw fit. We had about five minutes in her bathroom to discuss the logistics before going back out to face the boys.

“It’s not meant to be a fashion show or anything of the sort, I’m sure you know that,” she said, taking a moment to consider the evenness of her mane in her bathroom mirror. “All we have to do is go out, prance around a bit, show off our… assets… and the boys will be on board for whatever else we have planned for the evening.”

I pursed my lips into the mirror and leaned forward to get an eyeful of my own ‘assets’ before turning to Cheerilee.

“And what exactly do we have planned for the rest of the evening?” I asked.

Cheerilee grinned at me.

“I think it’ll be more fun if we keep it a surprise.”

I was hard pressed to disagree.