Author's Note: This is my first "Clopfic", my second story on this site (The first being an MLP Battle Royale hybrid that's in-progress and can be found on my profile, come on, you know you want to, lol), and my first time writing something in the second person. I mainly penned this for two reasons: 1. I was bored and feeling spontaneous enough to want to broaden my style of writing. and 2. Just to see if I could, i wanted to see if it was feasible for me to pen an immersive, steamy piece of erotic fiction. Being that this is my first attempt, please excuse any discrepancies, erroneous foibles, or any other "noobish" shit in this story. There will be an additional chapter (or possibly even a third provided i feel ambitious enough) that will be posted within a week most likely. Well, what else can i say, this is humanized. I believe all that needs to be addressed in this addendum of mine has been covered, so with all of that said and done, enjoy.
The brain. Such a vast and prodigious organ. The human brain especially, how peculiar that ours happens to be the largest in size, at least in how commensurate it is to our relative body size. As one may be able to imagine, the brain does not merely function on one level, rather on many different facets of autonomous and cognitive outputs exceeding even our own ability to truly fathom it's capabilities.
A fairly straight-forward example would be whenever you would happen to take a walk to any given destination. You may put some effort into envisioning your destination be it of sentimental or practical significance, and you most likely as well may put some thought into reasoning the safest or most efficient route, but you'll never have to think about moving your legs properly. If you did, you would likely spend the rest of your days in one perpetual, hilariously horrible session of QWOP while the rest of the world laughs at your expense. Being however that this isn't the case, your mind setting your physical form on a brain-function colloquially known as "auto-pilot" as your appendages safely maneuver their way on their itinerary, experience and muscle memory assuring your mind the luxury of ruminating over things that aren't imperative to ones existence, such as not having to think about your heart beating, or not having to cogitate over filling your lungs with oxygen, though your thoughts, or rather fantasies were making your body do that double-time anyways.
Walking home from school, you had been idly admiring the sky above as you gaze at its idyllic cyan mirth, you had reflected on your day, you recalled it had been a fairly average one; nothing too special.
However, as you try examining your internal memory bank for anything more than a perfunctory passage into what was daily for you, you couldn't help but chuckle a little when you remembered how one of the students fell in the toilet at lunch. A broad grin stretches across your face for a moment, fading back into the same stare you had on before. However, at yet another moments' passage, you begin to mull over your long-time object of affection, you couldn't really help it, being a teenage male with a serious proliferation in libido and desire for affection that seemed to derive its abundance from…a perpetual motion machine, that was the only thing you could figure, how the hell could you possibly know why your proclivity for lascivious thoughts was so vehement? Moseying away from that, your mind wanders further about this picturesque female whom you have been attracted to for such an interminable period. Your lips purse into something of a dreamy smile as you begin to fantasize more and more.
You couldn't quite place what it was, but for one inexplicable reason or another you felt absolutely smitten just thinking about her. Okay, you stand correct, maybe it's not so enigmatic to figure out why you like this girl. You're far from the only one. But nevertheless, you can't help but just enumerate everything that helped infatuate you with the illustrious young woman as if it were your reasons for living.
What could you pinpoint exactly that was so alluring about her? Her pulchritudinous looks? Her near-infinite patience and endearing personality? Her…assets? All of those seem to be good marks on your criterion of what composes an optimal crush, but merely listing those attributes mentally doesn't exactly seem to do you justice, and sadly an intelligent idiolect was never quite your forte, so alas while you aren't articulate enough to put your feelings into eloquent words, you can at least attest to the fact that your feelings remain as true as ever.
You think back fondly to when you happened to brush by the girl while her head was buried into a pile books in the hallway, not only did you get a whiff of her beguiling scent that seemed to be a downright hypnotic aroma, it was enough of a vindication to do what you always wish you had the guts to do on your own volition.
Talk to her.
You craned your neck around and shifted to face her, despite trying to project outward confidence, from a vicarious standpoint it's a great likelihood that you were just as shy and put off as the girl you were addressing. With her eyes partially concealed by her silky voluminous bangs in the sexiest way you knew possible, and her mouth and nose hidden behind the figurative mountain of books she had in her two arms, your first instinct was to apologize, so you do so without much aplomb about you. She reciprocates the gesture in an equally flustered manner, yet in tandem with her notoriously tacit acoustic signature. She insisted that it was her fault and that she should of paid better attention to where she was going. With that reminiscence you feel another one of Cupid's magical arrows puncture your heart in the most pleasant of ways. As you assured her that it was all okay, standing afterwards in your twitterpated manner that left her feeling all the more awkward. It was finally her prerogative to say her goodbyes, apologize once more, and scurry along with whatever mundane scholastic task she had been attending prior.
As she walked always, you realize she's wearing yoga pants, a particular item of clothing that seemed to have been from a reincarnated fashion trend of the 1980's, an idle thought reminds you that your mother told you this piece of information at one point or another. Though that thought doesn't bear much weight on the fact that it looked so… amazing on her. It seemed to flawlessly contour to each and every curve that her voluptuous legs and rear boasted to a sublime effect. Blushing ever so slightly and with her magnificent buttocks swishing with every step she took in the other direction, you grew fixated more than anything else as her bombshell rear view seemed to have an effect that was nothing short of hypnotic on your prurient brain. Your eyes won't come off the round, peachy dual mounds as you try imagining what it would feel like to stick your throbbing, inexperienced phallus in between that marvelous behind of hers.
After a few succinct moments of immersed ogling, your cheeks flush even further at the vague realization that people may have noticed you were perving out at this girl, subtlety being something you weren't known for. At all. Standing still in the middle of a hallway, staring at something with a thin line of drool trailing down your hot cheeks…very inconspicuous.
Looking back on it, you can't help but sigh. That was the first time you had "spoken" to her in months… and that was nearly two weeks ago. Further ruminating, you wonder why that memory has such sentimental meaning to you, it was mortifying to say the least and likely set you back even further with the demure girl. Yet all the same, that memory does at least give you some solace, somewhere. You sigh aloud and try pinching your distress out the bridge of your nose as you continue to trek down the street to your homely abode (pun thoroughly intended, sense of humor being arguably one of the few things you have going for you).
You note how timid she was during the whole exchange, you know that she's always shy, and you think maybe your ego is just manufacturing these details just to help you feel better about yourself, but did she 'eep' when you bumped into her? And was she blushing brighter than normal? Maybe; you could recall when observing as much of her countenance as you could that her cheeks were flushed a rose pinkish hue, and her eyes seemed to always do their damndest to avoid contact. What did that mean…probably nothing serious, considering who it was, but still…it felt nice to dream, you figure.
As you do your best to mentally digress away from dreamland, you turn the corner; you also remember that your parents are out of town this week. Your close friends will want to hear about this. Subconsciously, your legs start to walk a bit faster in anticipation.
Finally after what feels like eons you approach your door step, using the key your parents gave you to unlock the front door to open it. You open your mouth to speak, but then shut it, figuring nobody was here except for you. This certainly wasn't within your minds' daily routine.
Neither was what would ensue within the next few moments.
A small thump noise is heard but you quickly dismiss it, chalking it up to nothing; your house had always been known for weird noises and the like. Not a moment later, a very faint murmur is heard. Now you know something is suspicious, but can't place your finger on where the sound is coming from. You walk into the closet to your right and conveniently find one of your dads trademark golf clubs. Throwing the nine-iron over your shoulder, because you tend to do that with long objects, you begin tip-toeing through your house as clandestinely as you could, carefully inspecting every nook and cranny. True a knife or a gun would've been better in the grand scheme in terms of self-defense, but it's not like you wanted to seriously maim or kill anybody, maybe your mind was just playing tricks on you and you wouldn't need to do anything at all, you reckon. But it was still better just to err on the side of caution, you figure.
Surprise, surprise, nothing out of the ordinary could be found. Everything is still there and untouched, yet somehow you still feel disconcerted. Almost as if every object and everything within the domicile had been replaced with exact facsimiles that were just inherently flawed in ways that just weren't quite perceptible at first, yet when confronted all at once, something erroneous was unconsciously picked up by your brain (kind of like a subliminal message); another one of your cognition's wonderfully brilliant functions.
A louder noise is heard, similar to the murmur yet more emphatic. You hear it coming from upstairs. "Of course, it's always up the stairs," you think to yourself dejectedly. You whip around and spryly ascend mount staircase with as much stealth as you could muster before staring down the hallway that contained you and your parents bedrooms, one of your bathrooms, and a hall closet. Looking around with acute eyes, you're taken aback when you hear the noise once more, this time with one hundred percent binding certainty that the noise was not only indicative to anything you know, but also emitting from behind your bedroom door. You cautiously approach the closest feasible location to the sounds epicenter, placing your ear up against the door and listening intently for any other auditory stimulus that may inform you of what awaits you on the other side.
An even louder noise is heard, a sound similar to the last two you heard. It sounds like a combination of panting and moaning, the best you can tell. Thinking to yourself, you reason that the only people who would have conventional access to your house, let alone the private sanctuary that is your bedroom would be your parents, who said to be away, and your older sister who was spending the weekend in Nevada. Which means…
Horror and anxiety begin to settle in as you realize that a stranger, nigh, an invader, has breached your personal space. "No, no." you try to assure yourself. The soft, naked aural barely percolating through your wooden door sounded feminine, you want to reserve a dim hope that perhaps its just your sister after all and she was just in your room…for some reason you just quite couldn't imagine. But upon remembering your earlier investigation throughout the house, you recognized a note left by her confirming in fact, she was away.
So all chance that is one of your family members, let alone a female one, is nil at best. Your next instinct is to call the police. But then you remember you have an utter disdain for cops and try backtracking inwardly and think to yourself, "Maybe this person means no harm," and growing even more optimistic, a minute smile crosses your face, "I might be able to resolve this peacefully…and if not, I'll let them have the business end of my golf club!"
With newfound conviction in the prospect that things will turn out alright, you decide that you'll try handling this alone, the noise coming from within your room doesn't infer malevolence or larceny. There was no raucous or sounds of things going bang (the only fracas that could be heard was the soft creaking of…something)
You probably couldn't tell for the life of you, but if you had to guess, there was someone in your bedroom, doing something on your bed. A little paranoid despite the earlier resolve in your head, you turn the handle slowly, armed with your putter and whatever wits you have about you. Before looking inside, you try your best to fortify your mental barriers for whatever atrocity may lie in wait. A burglar, mugger, rapist…serial killer? Stalker, "Ha, that's wishful thinking right there, who'd wanna stalk you?" you think to yourself, levity apropos to nothing.
Hastily you peer inside, and much to both your delight and astonishment, there's an attractive woman on your bed, playing with herself. While initially your glad that this woman isn't doing anything malicious, the question must be asked, "What the fuck is she doing in here?"
You wonder, "How did she get inside?" Curiosity far overweighing the salacious nature of this gorgeous young woman pleasuring herself on your bed. Your front door was still locked when you got here, as evidenced by the fact you needed a key to get inside your place of residence, so what other portal of entry was there?
You notice out of the corner of your eye an open window. The realization doesn't dawn on you spontaneously. Rather, you were momentarily confused by it, then you did a mental recap of the morning's events. Then finally as the gentle breeze causes one of your curtains to flow like a draped flag into your room, the wind caressing your cheek with such sensitivity that it was almost like a kiss from Mother Nature herself, you figure it out.
Ethereal diatribes aside, that is when you intuitively put two and two together and realized that a single open portal must have betrayed your personal space. You had forgotten to close that window when you woke up this morning; you had always liked the window open when you slept in the summertime, really helped mitigate the stuffiness of your upstairs bedroom.
With a twitch of the lips, you decide to ignore the traitorous window and divert all of your attention back to the intruder.
Upon further inspection of the woman pleasuring herself, you notice the features: a slender, voluptuous body, long legs, wide hips, a very generously sized bosom, and a tattoo of a trifecta of pink butterfly's on the left buttocks' cheek by her thigh. As your eyes ascend, you spot her face. Red blush aside, her heart-shaped face had a seemingly impeccable complexion, devoid of any noticeable blemishes which just made her wan skin seem all the more dazzling. Just before her eyes rolled back in rapture, you got a good look at them. They were shimmering pools of teal that made the most pristine emeralds green with envy, which wound up making them even more undesirable in comparison. And crowning the whole jewel was the girls' signature mane of rose pink hair that now draped omni-directionally all over your bed like a blooming pink flower of keratin.
With that ogling, an identity instantly becomes associated with this girl. You know who this is now: she's one of the best singers in the school. You remember her angelic voice serenading through your ear canals during the talent show held in the fall, whenever you would sneak a peek into the school's choir room (and occasionally the female locker room) and in general whenever she would be within this girls' vicinity and she was in a good mode. And it seemed as if her moans of ecstasy were just as sweetly gentle; the passionate exhales of bliss that simply could not be contained equally as euphonic as her best hymn. But you're far more focused on the lovely lady lying like a leopard on your loosely made bed rather than the sounds she happens to be making (though they really don't hurt at all).
You're surprised she hasn't noticed you yet, or for that matter, even stopped to listen if the door opened. She must be too immersed in lust and euphoria to pay attention to anything other than reaching Cloud Nine. She is continually pleasuring herself with her fingers, her lower waist moving in a hypnotic rhythm, mimicking that of dry humping. You can hear her faintly whisper to herself moans of sweet ecstasy and allure. As much as you've fantasized about this scenario on many a lonely night, the question remains: why is she in your bedroom, fingering herself? A loud gasp brings you out of your thoughts as you see her visibly shaking, then stopping, hearing her breathe heavily. Her hips stopped gyrating and for a moment her groin was hoisted as high as her legs could carry it as she moaned loudly as she appeared to have an orgasm. Then within a few seconds, both her waist and head falls onto the bed as the hand that once pleasured her is placed at her side; a distinctive oblong puddle of her nectar staining the spot where she had flicked the bean to climax.
You're beyond convinced that she has no plans to harm you, but you still have a modicum of apprehension of just confronting her all of the sudden. Nevertheless, you figure it is just best to come in and be as delicate as you can, maybe then you could get a decent explanation for what this whole display was about, and who knows what from there; perhaps you could even become friends! The thought gives you a cheerful mien as you smile gleeful at the prospect.
You spryly prop the golf club against the frame of the door, it's presence deemed superfluous to what you were about to attempt. You almost feel like a hunter stalking an elegant gazelle considering the delicate, furtive approach. But unfortunately, like with any animal with hyper awareness, the slightest inflection of being spooked would give the hunters location away and the chance at the shot was forever lost. In this case, a slight clinking noise is what gives you away in this metaphorical pursuit. She peers up with eyes innocent enough to rival any doe, then they widened in fear as her mouth went slightly agape. You now knew what the simile "like a deer caught in the headlights" looked like as the attractive young temptress did her best impression of said idiom.
She looks down at herself, remembering that she was vulnerably bare (even more damning the fact that she was masturbating) and then her face quickly did it's best impression of a tomato as she crawls up against the baseboard, her hands propped up against the pillows and her legs covering her crotch like out of one of those cheesy romantic comedy's your sister adored so much. You cautiously enter the room with your hands raised, showing her you're not a threat despite her being the intruder into your personal space.
"What are you doing here?" you ask. She appears speechless, almost unable to move. Petrified probably being the most apposite word to describe her current condition. Why she's in your bedroom you still don't know. She shifts some of your pillows around in an attempt to cover up her breasts and womanhood despite the fact you had gotten a more than ample peek at them. She shifts around awkwardly as she attempts to bury her face in her hair and your cushions more, seemingly so distraught over this vicissitude that she now wanted to just disappear. Her only response to your earlier prompt was a less than dignified 'eep' accompanied by her cowering away in humiliation.
At first your quite perplexed at her mysterious behavior, until you realize that this isn't mysterious behavior at all, at least not for her. Being that this was in fact Fluttershy of all people, you gradually realize that you're not going to do anything fruitful unless you ease up the approach.
"Listen, I'm not going to do anything to you," you begin in a tone similar to a gentle teacher addressing a kindergartener, "I'm just curious is all… I won't be mad with whatever your reason is, I just would really like to know what you're doing in here. Is that okay, Fluttershy?"
She briefly glances out of her fortress of hair and pillows, revealing her vulnerable eyes at you. You try bolstering her confidence a bit by smiling warmly back at her and putting on as sunny an expression as you can, assuring her that there was no deception or ulterior motive to your soul. As she reciprocates in kind with a small grin of her own, she extends out of her metaphorical shell with a slightly happy face, though with an inkling embarrassment still present on her countenance.
"Um... well, the thing is..." she mutters quietly, looking at you shyly, "I, umm, got a little excited from waiting for you..." Her voice wavered in solidarity greatly until by the end of her statement she was hardly audible. You feel your cheeks warm up. How could she, one of the most gorgeous and popular girls in school, want anything to do with a lower class person like yourself? Admittedly, you had a thing for the girls that coasted along the top of the social hierarchy, but who doesn't? Especially her; the way she dressed, how she acted, how nice her voice sounded, how smoking hot her body was, how often you would sneak a peek when you got the chance just to see her nicely shaped rear or breasts, hell, even the way that she walked was lauded with an intimate sense of totemistic dedication from you. Yet in spite of how well-endowed she was, you could never take your eyes off of her. Not just the superficial beauty, not just her face, which seemed to only commensurate how beautiful a person she truly was…
No, just her very essence is what truly made her the apple of your eye. If she had her looks, but the disposition of say, Pinkie Pie, that wouldn't have been enough to enchant you, only galvanize your lust.
Unlike a certain other pink haired girl that Fluttershy was friends with; the rose haired girl was far more pleasant and tame in her demeanor than miss Pinkie Pie. Her seductively demure disposition, her adorable, innocuous shyness, how genial she was and her unprecedented amount of kindness. You could never recall meeting a person quite as nice as her. Never. But what you could, and would, do is always fantasize about being with her every chance you got. Her style was just so amazing and beyond description, she was really your only comfort whenever desperate perverted thoughts would pull in your psyche like a quagmire and porn just simply wouldn't cut it. You also distinctly remember blushing brightly while you were having a daydream shortly before being called on in National History, which made your cheeks feel a bit warmer.
"Waiting for me? What would you ever want with me?"
"I, umm," she paused to let out one of her signature 'eep's, "I saw you always looked at me... I k-knew you liked me... and, I mean, a part of me knew there was something else to you..." She paused to intake another breath to try to calm her nerves, "Whenever I saw you from afar...you always seemed so mature and considerate with your friends."
"That still doesn't explain why you broke into my house... and how you knew where I lived."
"I, umm, well… I, I just," She vacillates heavily with what she wanted to say until she finally develops the courage to answer, "I, I mean I looked you up in the student directory... I'm really sorry it's just I really like you and I... I..." she stutters, her voice perspicuously trailing off, she then recedes back away from you as timidly as ever.
"Wait, you actually like me?" you can hardly believe your ears, did she just say-
"Yes!" She blurted out earnestly in her cherubic voice that had many a heart go aflutter. You feel your cheeks blush even more at the knowledge that of all the guys that were captivated by her, many of which sharing a great deal of identical traits that you possessed, she chose you over the rest.
"But why?" is all that you can say, what could this girl that was so far above your league possibly cause her to be so enamored with you that she'd have the temerity to break into your house just to be with you?
She yelped aloud, shocking you for nary a second. She retreats away from you ever so slightly, receding back into her proverbial shell by an iota, but still was at ease enough to relinquish her answer,
"I'm sorry about that." she apologized, "Well, I umm, It's just, you always were so considerate and mature for your age; and I noticed how you'd always smile at me and blush. It was always just so cute..." As she remembered the entire reason as to why she took such a risky and audacious move into trespassing into your house, she now feels serene enough to get into a natural position as now she can relax clothe-less with impunity. She uncrosses her legs in a leisurely manner, giving you a good view of her naughty bits. You slowly approach the side of the bed and sit yourself precariously. It's clear your not used to being this close to a voluptuous, nude girl that was more than happy to show it all to you; her azure colored eyes peering at you tenderly as she gives you a warm smile. She's still sporting a luminescent blush that stretched across her face, yet now free of all bashfulness and only a doting, romantic visage across her stunning face.
"Not to mention you're super handsome..." She added sensually with a devious smirk on her face, getting you to gulp in excited nervousness.
"I would always feel…safe, when around you…" Fluttershy continued, the doting returning to her face. She now feels brazen enough to put her arm around you, pulling you in closer. You quiver a bit at first, not used to having the feeling of having a girl whom you have tremendous reserves of limerence for be this close, but your concerns are assuaged when she leans her head against yours, the rapturous sensation of her silky mane bringing mirth to both of your faces.
This particular moment in time though, this is more than just nerves sending messages to the brain indicating that something is stimulating the primary layers of skin…more than just a meager physical feeling, this was a surreal point where it just seemed to be an appeasement of the senses. You can feel her hair like velvet draped on your shoulder in the most pleasant of ways, the still-present breeze of chill air cooling down you and her just enough where the heat of your cuddling was mitigated to an idyllic temperature.
You smell the fruity fragrance that seemed to adorn the mien immersing you with efficacy that was downright mesmerizing provided the potent efficacy of her magnificent aroma.
You could hear the soft breathing of your beloved temptress, the tacit inhaling and exhaling proving to be nothing short of sublime. Other than that though, the silence was golden. You could say with unadulterated candor that it was better now that you were together with no soundtrack than if your favorite band was playing an exclusive concert for the both of you right now.
You can almost taste her, almost. Though, your desire to discover what her lips flavor against your own pair of lips was quite impetuous. Whatever it would be, you could only surmise it wouldn't be anything short of decadent.
However, out of all the senses, sight was the one that was playing the largest role in the clandestine expansion of sexual desire. With your eyes being pulled in like a figurative tractor beam towards her girly parts. You surmise that she hasn't even noticed the continuous glare that befalls her bountiful shoulder boulders, nor the moist outer lips of her glorious vagina, her wet labia almost beckoning you personally to take a ride through her love tunnel with its bright pink flesh tucked just on the inside of her pussy's lustful lips. And of course she definitely has no idea of the thoughts going through your mind right now. Perhaps it would be a good idea to look away…or not.
Animalistic thoughts are slowly taking over as the glare goes on, wait a minute, animalistic? You're both humans, and humans are animals with primeval urges; what's the difference? You reason that to yourself as the heat rises much like the erection in your pants, it's unstoppable and it wants to experiment. Who cares what happens? If it's making you feel like this then it must be good! Now you're imagining her moans as you penetrate deep inside that wet mass of flesh and pleasure, her flower enraptured with its defilement at the hands of your swollen member, both of your sets of genitals in equally deep longing for each other's lascivious strokes; forming a bond as your bodies become one in the heavenly act of making love for the first time.
Your body shivers with nervous excitement at the thought, the euphoria immersing is enough to make the comely girl leaning on you notice your quaking. She peers up at you with those irresistible green eyes again and asks you if anything is wrong, you answer affirmatively and put her minute concerns to rest. The brief feeling of her voluminous, silky hair being away from the cozy position on your chest was a short yet gnawing hollowness that was quelled as quickly as it started, her head resting snugly once again in it's rightful place.
As you cuddle together some more, both of you basking in the warmth and affection of your newly formed romantic union, Fluttershy now knew that she still had a fervent libido to quell…one that she simply couldn't let abate, not like normal… but now she knew that she'd have your requital. Or at least thought so, but she had been wanting this ardently for months now, and it wasn't exactly now or never, but it sure felt like it. If she chickened out right now, not only would she be letting Rainbow Dash down…she'd be letting herself down, now was the time. The feelings inside Fluttershy were like a hot and humid day in a wet summer, and she needed a fan. And to her, you were much better than a fan; you were full-blown air conditioner.
By now, Fluttershy wasn't the only person whose thoughts had been leaning on the sexual side. You never let go of the fact that an attractive, busty woman was clinging to your body, her gentle breath having great effect in making your chest tingle with excitement. As well as another, certain organ down south was getting prepared to mate.
You stifle your lustful thoughts as you bring up your long-delayed question, "That still doesn't explain your reason for being here...or why were you pleasuring yourself on my bed?"
She closes her eyes and presses her nose against yours. You close your eyes too; taking rapid, short breaths while holding each other close.
"Is this reason enough?" she asks softly, just before grabbing your face with her hands and kissing you square on the lips. The action is shocking, quite brazen on her part. Your eyes shoot open from the shock of it all, but as you're lulled into a state of harmony and limerence, you close them once more. You don't mull over Fluttershy's uncharacteristic behavior much though as the immensely soothing on your lips overpowers your rational thinking; her lips are soft and taste like strawberries. You attempt to kiss her back to the best of your ability; you hadn't really had any experience with kissing with consenting partners (a sloppy makeout session with an inebriated Berry Punch in the janitor's closet hardly constitutes a 'consenting partner') yet the fact she's moaning into your mouth is quite indicative of your innate lip-locking skills. She pulls away and looks at you, a happy and seductive stare in her eyes.
"If this is a dream, please don't wake me up." you think to yourself as your eyes lock into hers. That's when she resumes her typical persona, slinking into an awkward stance as she averts her gaze and peers down. Her legs crossed once more and that blush of hers back on her face in full ferocity.
"T-that was my first kiss..." She says shyly, her coy and bashful nature making her already stunning physiognomy seem all the more radiant, "I'm...really, really glad it was you." She concludes in a manner equally as mousy as when she began. You're quite boggled by this confession, it seems to be an anomaly as to how a girl this, this...perfect...hasn't had her first kiss yet. This shock almost immediately gives way to jubilation as you realize that you just received your first kiss from the girl you desired above all others, even more so that you were her first as well.
"That was also my first, and I'm also glad it was with you." Technically it wasn't your first (a detail you're willing to omit just to preserve the moment), but it was definitely your best. Though, one thing is clear to you, it was your first kiss. This intimacy, this warmth, this desire to have her and only her be in your company, being completely foreign to you...it's a feeling that makes you feel already in the seventh heaven.
Her eyes shimmer with a beaming alacrity not yet seen, she seems to not be able to believe just how apropos this whole thing is. Almost as if this was completely meant to be, a divine, celestial adjoining of Fluttershy and yourself.
"R-r-really?" she stammers, hardly containing her joy as wraps her arms around you with alacrity, trapping your arms by your sides. You nod in confirmation as she giggles blissfully to the joy of it all. "God, that cuteness of hers is so sweet it's diabetic." you think to yourself. As you close your eyes once more and let the embrace warm you up with tender maudlin in the most peaceful of ways, you hear something that prompts your nearly-forgotten perverted self back into excitement.
"Well, Having you for my first kiss is wonderful, but," you hear her whisper softly into your ear. She pauses for only a slight moment, perhaps trying to think of the best way to phrase her next statement, "I want you to be my first… for something else too..."