>Life could be so cruel sometimes.
>That was how things had always worked on Earth, and it didn’t seem too dissimilar here in Equestria.
>Maybe it was a universal rule that everything good had to be given out with a little salt, so that you appreciated the few niceties that came your way.
>You were Anonymous, the sole human in a world filled with small colourful p0nies.
>When you had first arrived in Equestria - tumbling through that portal, your vision a kaleidoscope of colour - it had taken a while to settle in and to get accepted, and you missed Earth terribly.
>That felt like an eternity ago, yet you had only been in this new world for 2 short years.
>Thankfully, Equestria had some pleasant features.
>Everyone, or everyp0ny you should say, was nice to you eventually.
>You even met a mare.

>Her name was Jasmine, and she had been a soldier in Princess Luna’s Night Guard.
>Those batp0nies were the first to come across you when you crashed into their world.
>She clung to you like damp clothes, ‘bumping into you’ frequently after your first meeting.
>Though her slightly odd appearance spooked you; fangs, leathery bat wings and tufty ears, Jasmine and yourself had formed an unlikely bond.
>You became friends, and soon after, lovers.
>She made your life brighter.
>But at the same time she filled it with worry.
>While you were working down at the docks outside Canterlot, she was sleeping off a night of patrols.
>And while you tried to sleep, she was off gallivanting around Equestria getting into scrapes for a Princess whom you doubted even knew her name.
>Whenever you brought it up, she played it down, saying you worried too much.
>She ‘was lucky’, she ‘knew what she was doing’; stuff like that.
>The thing about luck was that it always ran out in the end.
>Always.

>For Jasmine, that moment had been 3 months ago.
>While on a routine patrol on the griffon border, her platoon was ambushed.
>You went to meet her back at the garrison, like you always do, but something felt off.
>Her friends came to you, covered in an assortment of wounds and bandages of their own.
>”Anon! J-Jasmine isn’t here, sh-she was taken to the hospital, you should get over there. She’ll want you.”
>You dropped the mango you were carrying for her, turning on your heels and sprinting off in the direction of the hospital.
>Barging through the crowds of p0nies who were dawdling in the streets, you rushed to get to her side.
>Beating the late evening traffic, you got to the emergency unit, only to find a sight that made your breath catch in your throat, an uncomfortable lump that felt like a brewing sob.
>The doctors had bandaged over her eyes, apparently a griffon had clawed her eyes.
>She was blind, would definitely never see again.
>When she woke a few days later, you gave her the news yourself.
>You couldn’t tell if she was sobbing or not, but she held you tighter than she had ever done before.
>”Never let me go, anon, please.”
>You had promised that day that you wouldn’t, and you meant it.

>You shake your head.
>What was that?
>These flashbacks were getting pretty spontaneous.
>Almost felt like you were telling someone a story.
>Weird.
>So weird that you almost dropped your shopping bag, which held some rocket, chick peas and couscous
>What you and Jasmine had decided was going to be for dinner tonight.
>You turned a corner, heading down the street where your home stood.
>The faint glow of candles seeps out of the windows, bathing you in a light orange glow as you hop up the steps to your deep blue front door.
>You unlock it and step inside, scanning the room for Jasmine.
>There she is, curled up on the sofa.
>You push the door shut and it clacks audibly.
>A faint rustling on the sofa makes you turn.
>“Anon? Is that you?”
>Jasmine has woken up, she stretches a little before opening her eyes and looking in your general direction.
>Her once emerald-green eyes now a milky white, with a stare that seems to look out onto some distant horizon.
“Yeah, honey, it’s me.”
>Reassured, she relaxes back into the chair once more.

>”How was your day?”
>You drop the shopping off in the kitchen.
>It was still only the afternoon, dinner wasn’t for a while yet.
“Fine, all good, Mr Timbers is putting me up for promotion.”
>You sit yourself down next to her, momentarily putting her off balance.
>”Whoa, careful heh. But a promotion? That’s great!”
>She wraps her hooves around you, initially going too high and hugging your neck, but she soon works her way down and nuzzles your chest.
>A low growl comes from her stomach.
>She slowly gazes up at you with a plaintive look on her face.
“You need to feed?”
>”Uh huh”
“Come on then”

>She clambers up onto your lap, hooking her forelegs over your shoulders.
>You run your hands through her mane, massaging her neck as you work your hands down.
>She strokes your neck with her muzzle, trying to find her favourite spot on your neck to feed from.
>She finds it and presses her fangs against the skin.
>There is a short, sharp pain as the teeth break the skin.
>You gasp, eliciting a kiss from her, although it feels strange around her fangs.
>The pain fades almost as soon as it arrived and you are left with the slow, gentle throb of pleasure that being fed on brought.
>A sigh escapes your lips as your girlfriend suckles gently on your neck, taking the life blood that keeps her healthy.
>You can never help but get a little aroused by the sensation.

>The feeling stops as Jasmine pulls off from your neck, her need for blood sated.
>You can feel hot little puffs of her breath against your neck as she exhales.
>Her tongue comes out and pokes your neck with a wet touch.
>It's rougher than that of most other ponies, like pliant sandpaper.
>She runs it up your neck, tracing your jawline.
>Her breath fills your ear.
>”I don’t think we’re going to have time for dinner tonight”
>A smirk dances across her face, followed by a sultry giggle.
>You pick her up, giving her a quick kiss on the nose, it takes a bit of effort to pick both of your weights up from the couch. 
>P0nies aren’t as light as you would believe and you still feel a tad woozy from the feeding, but you manage to carry her down the hall to the bedroom.
>You gently lower her onto the mattress.
>”What are we going to do on the bed, Anon?”
>Another giggle.
>Damn it you were going to destroy that.
[spoiler]“You’ll see”[/spoiler]
>You wink.
>Did you genuinely just say that to your blind marefriend?
>Thankfully, she didn’t pick up on the slightly naff joke.
>Her head tips back in anticipation as you hop up onto the bed with her.
>You grab her thighs and open her up, her privates out for all the world to see.
>Your hands gently circle around, fingertips tracing her coat down the inside of her inner thigh, leading straight to business.
>She closes her eyes, savouring the touch.
>You can see where the fur around her slit has started to mat from the growing dampness in her loins.
>The centre fingers of your right hand slip in easily enough, throwing up 'the horns' as you start squeezing and fingering the spots.
>Your left hand circles her small, unused teats, pressing fingers delicately around them and teasing the nipple.
>She gasps, shivering a little as you get to work on her sensitive spots.
>Her eyes ease open again, her glassy stare shifting around the room.
>”Ahhn…An-Anon, I-“
>She gives out a shrill squeak.
>A shudder follows, coupled with the tensing of all the muscles in her body as she cums, fluids trickling down from her neat flower, thin rivulets of marecum soaking into the bed sheets beneath you.
>She lies there, panting and wearily raising her head.
>”Those *puff* f-fingers of yours…”
>She chuckles and smiles what you suspect is supposed to be a seductive one.
>Still not even the faintest trace of that smile exists in her dead eyes.
>The pale orbs face you, but look through you at the same time, at some fixed point behind your shoulder blades.
>You get up from your seat on the edge of the bed and position yourself next to her.
>Lifting herself up and stretching her leathery wings, she shuffles over to you.
>Moving slowly since she doesn’t know exactly where you are.
>She reaches out for you and you take her hooves in your hands.
“So, babe, what now?”
>You wink slyly, although find yourself unsure as to why you felt the need.
>She thinks for a moment.
>”Now? Now it’s YOUR turn.”
>She takes back her hooves and begins to work her way down your body with them.
>Your chest.
>Down to your stomach.
>To your waist.
>You’re still wearing clothes, so she has to grapple with your belt.
>Now that was a tricky thing to work for YOU sometimes, so you can’t imagine what it must be like for her.
>It’s rather killing the mood.
>You gently stop her pawing at the silver buckle and undo it.
>Shifting on the mattress to yank off your trousers, pants and shirt. [spoiler]learn to britspeek[/spoiler]
>You kneel before her at half-mast, though she doesn’t realise.
>”All done?”
“Yeah”
>She reaches out again, but aims too high and starts fondling your upper abs, blushing.
>”Oops, not up there.”
>Correcting her positioning, she starts to work her hooves down again.
>Her eyes stare blankly at your torso.
“You’re getting warmer”
>She stops and bites her lip before starting up again, at a pace akin to that of a snail.
>Not like you’ve ever been touched up by one of those before, but you imagine the speed would be similar.
“Hot…”
>Further down still.
“Hotter”
>She closes her eyes a little, concentrating intently on finding your now rock hard member.
>She does so and takes hold of it with excitement, beaming as if really pleased with herself.
“You’re RED HOT”
>”Speak for yourself, stud”
>A sultry chuckle escapes her lips as she bends down to take you in her mouth.

>Oral sex was always a risky thing with batp0nies.
>They have, you know, fangs.
>And a blow would involve getting those uncomfortably close to a particularly sensitive and important part of your body.
>You weren’t too keen on jeopardizing one of your most important assets.
>Yet here you are now, gripping onto the sheets of your bed while being worked over by your blind marefriend.
>Her head bobbed up and down above your groin, each movement sending jolts of electricity down your spine, pushing you ever closer to your finish.
>Her tough, rough as it was, was busy burrowing under the frenulum of your dickhead.
>You weren’t going to lie, it felt great.
>All of this while she worked your shaft with her soft, velvety hooves.
>It’s safe to say, her pulling your dick from her mouth came as a shock.
“Something wrong?”
>She cocked her head to the side, confused.
>”Just going to check on the troops”
>What?
>Your curiosity is ended when she drops down a little further, feeling her way down your shaft with her muzzle.
>She reaches your balls and cups them with her sandpaper tongue.
>They are kept supported on her fleshy little platform while she contemplates them.
>She can’t quite form words properly without her tongue, so her next sentence is hard to decipher.
>”oo-ow uhmwon feelth bwetty fuw”
>You fight to hold back a chuckle.
>Sensing that, or maybe just realising how ridiculous she sounded, she drops your heavy nutsack.
>”Why don’t I give them a hand on that long journey up?”
>Using her muzzle again, she feels her way back up to the tip and gets back to work.
>She’s really going for it now, Jesus.
>You feel yourself hilt in the back of her throat several times, and not once does she gag.
>You had found that some p0nies had pretty dicey gag reflexes.

>That rising feeling in your crotch again, you didn’t want this to finish so soon.
>Putting your weight onto your left hand, you gently touch under her chin and lift her head off from your dick.
“Whoa, darling, easy…easy. Don’t want to get too far ahead of you, do I?”
>She frowns, but that soon disappears as you heave her up into your arms and hold her.
>Her warm lips press against your own.
>Eugh.
>You can taste yourself on them.
>Blegh, you gained a whole new level of respect for mare kind for putting up with that taste.
>She coos in your ear.
>”Is something wrong? Anon?”
>A heavy weight of guilt lands in the pit of your stomach.
>A lead balloon on the blimp that was your libido.
“No, dear, nothing…I’m just tired”
>You pull the covers up around Jasmine and yourself.
>She’s pretty confused.
>Makes sense, even you have no idea what’s up.
>Blue-balled by your own conscience.
>Fucking hell, Anon, get a grip.

>The clock on your bedside table tinkles.
>6 A.M.
>Must have dozed off.
>You roll over, trying to find your bed companion.
>She isn’t under your arm anymore, is she up?
>”Good morning, Anon.”
>There. There she is, sat next to you in the bed.
>She is staring out the window, the first rays of sunlight are poking up over the Canterlot skyline.
>As the wave of light rolls in, the city seems to undulate.
>It moves fluidly, like subterranean machines rolling under high planes turned golden seas by sunlight.
>”I feel the sun, Anon. T-tell me about it, please? I can hardly remember it.”
>She nuzzles you and cuddles up to your body.
“Uh, ok. It’s warm, golden and bright. Brighter than anything you can possibly imagine. Everything its light touches turns golden too. Beautiful beyond comparison, almost as beautiful as you are.”
>She sighs and kisses your neck, before closing her eyes and drifting back off to sleep.
”I love you, Jas.”
>“Love you back.”