Without a Stitch
The first story I published on FiMFiction under this moniker, back in the summer of 2019. It was an attempt to overcome my fears about publication and an exercise to just put something out there, learning about the process along the way.
Sunlight filters in from her sheer bedroom curtains, gently awakening Twinkleshine from a light sleep. Her eyes flutter open, and gracefully she flings aside the thin bedclothes, letting the warm light baste her naked body.
She stretches, still lying down, tracing the smooth surface of the bedcover with her writhing form, closing her eyes again and letting the sightless sensations clear her mind.
After a few moments of this, she is feeling energized. She swings her legs over the threshold and springs to her hooves, pushing off the bed with the pads of her hands.
Grabbing the thin veil hanging before the window, she dramatically pulls it aside, letting in the full light of a new day.
Through the glass she sees her pleasant little neighborhood, so calm and quiet; the street capped by a cul-de-sac and shaded by leafy trees. It was a place of green grass and golden sunshine; of lazy mornings filled with coffee and scones, and lazy afternoons filled with iced tea and lemonade.
As she thinks to herself, standing naked in the window, she idly plays with her heavy breasts, weighing them like sacks of grain and enjoying the gentle resistance. Occasionally she flicks the tips of her nipples with her nails, eliciting sharp pulses of pleasure, both fleeting and full, that make her whole body tense up with each reverberation.
At this time of day, mere hours after the break of dawn, most of her neighbors would likely still be in bed; but even just the thought that somepony might see her, touching her body behind the glass, was terrifying... but it was also exhilarating.
She lets her hands drift across her pale, golden coat, tracing around her nipples with the tips of her fingers, eyes shuttering as if she were fighting off sleep. She lets them close and draws her hands down her waist, visualizing the hourglass shape as she rounds her hips; then pulls them back to her buttocks. She gently lifts the soft flesh with her fingers and lets them drop, the weightiness causing them to tug gently before they snap back into shape.
When she has had her fill, she opens her eyes and bends her knees, pulling at the thick flesh of her right buttock; gripping it firmly, the cheek bulging between her fingers, and letting it go, again and again. With her left hand she sweeps back her hair, slipping her slender digits through her rosy, voluminous mane and raising her upper lip to display a subtle hint of her pearly teeth.
Slowly, she brings her right hand to the front, dragging it along her upper thigh while the other squeezes her left breast. With the first two fingers spread apart, she slips them down around her vulva, tracing the creases of her legs. Carefully avoiding the spot that yearned for touch, the tension inside her body begins to increase. Her right ear twitches spontaneously, her tail lashing back and forth, tickling her buttocks as she kneads her breast like dough.
Letting out a wavering sigh, all at once she stops, letting her arms hang at her sides and straitening up, closing her legs. She shuts her eyes and lets her thoughts run like water into a rainbow of colors, rippling in the wake of the fading echoes of stimulation, keenly aware of her twitching pussy.
Her breathing evens out, and the fog begins to lift from her mind as she returns from the brink, a sharp and delicious frustration having grown inside from being denied release. She gently bites her lower lip as she savors the moment, not sure whether she wants it to end or go on forever.
She decides, after a moment, to do some light stretching, taking advantage of her overflowing vigor. First, she loosens up her shoulders, rolling them back and forth gently, her limber muscles allowing this to be done without even a pop. She goes on to demonstrate the full extent of her flexibility by lifting her left leg, gripping the hoof and hoisting it straight up in the air, holding it above her head. She keeps her balance, though a tingling sensation begins to rise through her body at the thought of what she must look like, her sex on display with her legs open wide.
She switches legs, keeping her eyes focused on a single point somewhere in the street. She holds the pose for a few moments, then gently brings her leg back down and clamps her thighs together.
After a moment's reprise, she leans down to touch her hooves, feeling her breasts shift as gravity does its work. She holds this pose for a while; breasts tugging at her chest, pleased by the rush of blood to her head.
Swiftly, she pops up, feeling like her brain is draining out of her skull, and nearly falls back on her bed. Once steadied, she clasps her hands behind her, shuts her eyes and arches her back, leaning forward and pressing her chest against the cool glass. As she feels her back loosen up she allows one eye to open, just in time to see her neighbor, Royal Ribbon, jogging past her window.
She opens the other, both eyes wide with surprise. Her shock is exacerbated when their gazes briefly meet, and a bolt of terror seizes Twinkleshine's body, her heart racing.
Their gazes met so shortly, it was enough to make Twinkle question whether her neighbor had even noticed anything. It was strange, but there was a part of her that hoped she had.
Her heart keeps on pounding as Ribbon jogs away, her tight little ass disappearing from view. When she is out of sight completely, Twinkleshine collapses back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling as her chest rises and falls, her breath leaving her body inshivering rasps. She lets out a nervous laugh, and closes her eyes. If Ribbon had seen her, it was going to be awkward at her dinner party tomorrow.