Round-About
In which Royal Ribbon gets dressed and goes for a jog.
The follow-up to 'Without a Stitch.'
On an immaculate sofa decorated with a filagree pattern of dark swirls, Royal Ribbon deposited an armful of fresh laundry, straight from the dryer. After sifting through the warm blankets and clothing, she managed to extract a pair of diminutive black shorts, along with a sports-bra just the right amount of sizes too small.
Ordinarily Ribbon would still be in bed so early in the morning, but with all the planning for her upcoming party she found herself feeling rather restless and in need of a way to blow off steam. She decided on a quick jog around the cul-de-sac. The crisp morning air was just the thing to harden her resolve, (and her nipples.)
There was no need to bother with small clothes, so she simply pulled on her shorts, letting the elastic slip from her fingers and wincing as it snapped into shape. The light, breathable material fit snuggly over her plump little rump like a second coat, and her pretty blue tail sprouted from a wedge shaped indentation on the back. Though a little tight, she appreciated the certain sense of security that came with it, as well as the way it complimented her shapely form.
Slipping on the bra proved to be a bit of a challenge. She struggled to yank it down over her massive melons, eventually succeeding by pulling it with one hand and stuffing them in from underneath with the other. When she was done, the garment rested snugly beneath the anchors of her breasts, hugging them tightly and lifting them up, adding a subtle note of under-boob to the overall appeal.
After snatching a scrunchy from the wash-room and using it to secure her mane in a loose ponytail, she made her way over to the bench by her front door. There she put on her cross-fit horseshoes with a few delicate taps, then rose to her hooves to see how they felt. When she was satisfied, she flung open the door and raced outside.
At first, the cool air felt terrible, then it felt good. Her lungs drank it in and it burned, but once she had gotten into the rhythm of things she felt the stress melt away, replaced by the present and physical sensations of exercise.
It didn't matter if any-pony saw her, she still wanted to look good. Her pace was slow going, and she perhaps added a little unnecessary bounce to her step, but it was all a part of her usual routine.
Her tail, (and ponytail,) swished like a pendulum, trailing slightly behind her beauteous booty, which jolted like gelatin each time she touched down. Her arms were pumping and her chest was threatening to cast off the bonds of decency, rebounding with excessive force.
Though somewhat uncomfortable, such triviality was as nothing compared to the euphoria of being totally in the moment. She did not think of what was ahead, or what was behind, and was aware only of her body, her breath, and her hooves taking turns pushing her off the ground.
Then she began to tire, and her pace began to slow. Her stride was less bouncy, (and so was her chest,) her breathing had become shallow, slowly evening out as her mind began to drift toward other things. Particularly, house party things.
After all, she was the neighborhood's most accomplished hostess. Her gatherings were no mere celebratory affairs, but sophisticated soirées designed to impress and intimidate, and a chance for her to convey contempt. If some-pony was not invited, every-pony knows it was because they had done something to upset the careful balance Ribbon had worked so hard to strike between maintaining curb-appeal and allowing for decorative individualism to shine, thus keeping the HOA both happy and more importantly, out of their hair.
This time, there was a particular case she was on the fence about. Having only moved in recently, Twinkleshine kept a tidy facade, but otherwise acted quite distant, if any-pony could ever catch a glimpse of her at all. Her reclusiveness was such that Ribbon wasn't sure if she would even accept an invitation, which had never happened before, and she wasn't about to risk it happening then.
Twinkleshine's house wasn't far from where Ribbon was now, nearing the end of the cul-de-sac. Beyond that little lagoon of theirs the rest of the neighborhood was less... maintained. Such is the cost of falling out of favor, which is why Ribbon had worked so hard to nudge the flow of cash from the HOA into their little haven.
Her wandering mind returned as she approached the home of the newest and most mysterious member of their lauded circle. Once more Ribbon was impressed by the tidiness of the yard, in which grass had been replaced with decorative rock. She admitted to herself that, if Twinkleshine was indeed a shut-in, at least she was clever enough to apply low-maintenance decor. She supposed, after all, her only real complaint would be that she simply didn't see enough of the girl. That was about to change.
As she passed the window to the master bedroom, she locked eyes with the reclusive pony, only briefly, averting her gaze just enough that she could still see all there was to see. Twinkleshine stood completely naked in her window, tending to her body in a delicious and daring display, and as she passed it seemed to Ribbon the girl had not expected to be caught. In all fairness, Ribbon was out a little earlier than usual.
Then all the pieces fell into place and Ribbon was amazed at the care and planning her neighbor put into remaining just out of sight, practicing her little hobby. Twinkleshine was no mere recluse, she was just particularly good at not being seen.
As Ribbon left the house with the decorative rocks behind, she found herself wanting to confirm her thoughts on the pony, and promptly decided that she was going to invite Twinkleshine to her house party after all