>Day Messing Around at the Office in Kinderquestria.
>You are Anonymous, employee of the month for like a year running.
>Mainly because you’re the only one who can stay on task for more than half an hour.
>You stare blearily at the letter on your desk, penned in crayon.
Dear Anon,

I need a report on my desk by the end of the day. Make it cool!

From Windsor Knot.
>A report on WHAT, dammit?
>He must need something neat to pass around at those “meetings” he attends.
>You’re like 80% sure it’s just him and his friends in an office seeing who has the cooler thing to present.
>Like competitive show-and-tell.
>You’ve grown to accept that these little guys were basically kids who never grew up, but stuff like this drive you nuts.
>You still had to do it though. Nobody else would hire your un-cutie-marked ass.
>Last time this happened, you wrote “Super Secret Report in Invisible Ink that Idiots Can’t See” at the top of a blank page, but you nearly did jail time for that when the CEO burst into tears, thinking he was an idiot.
>...He is, but you felt bad, so you said it was just a prank and that there was nothing there.
>Everybody laughed and the charges got dropped.
>So here you sit, rubbing your temples, trying figure out something cool to write for your boss.
>The “Never Gonna Give You Up” lyrics?
>You’re the only one who’d get the joke.
>List of “your mom” jokes?
>You’re pretty sure they’ve heard all yours already.
>A drawing of a dick?
>Always a crowd pleaser in middle school, but you’re pretty sure they’d report you for lewd behavior here.
>Why the fuck is work still hard even in a place like this?
>You faceplant into your desk, groaning.
>Your office door opens.
>”Is everything alright, Anon?”
>In walks one of your coworkers, Ink Well.
>She’s a cutie. Very boopable nose, and chest fluff extruding from the neckline of her blouse.
“I gotta come up with a report for Windsor. No clue what to write.”
>”You’re always working so hard! I can try and help, if you don’t mind.”
“I’d like that, Ink.”
>She clambers on top of your desk and sits across from you, looking down at the letter.
>”Silly Windsor. He really didn’t give you much to go on there. Hmmm... Maybe... A list of cool facts?”
>Well, it’s a start. If your old fascination with reading Snapple caps was anything to go by, random facts are kinda cool.
“Okay. Know any cool facts, Ink?”
>She puffs out her chest proudly, making her tuft even more prominent.
>”You bet! Did you know that sea otters hold hooves when they sleep so they don’t drift apart? I think that’s really cute!”
> You crack a smile as the first item of your Cool Facts Report is recorded.
“I did not know that. Did you know that there’s only one type of shark that can breathe in both salt and fresh water? The bull shark.”
>”Oh, neat! Scary, but neat. Hm. Okay, did you know that there’s over 7,500 different kinds of apple?”
“What? That’s way too many.”
>She giggles.
>”But it’s true! I went on a tour of Appleoosa one time, the tour guide told me so.”
“Crazy. So, how about this one? Did you know that hummingbirds can fly backwards?”
>You two keep up your pleasant little back-and-forth, and the little mare actually surprises you with how much random trivia she knows.
>It’s getting to the point where you’ve run out of facts of your own, but Ink Well seems to still be going strong.
“You really know your stuff, Ink. We’ll say this was a joint project.
>She smiles happily as you write her name next to yours under the title.
>”Thanks, Anon! I have a couple more for you, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure.”
>”Did you knoooooow...”
>She turns her head away, giving you a coquettish grin.
>”That I saw you looking at my chest fluff?”
>Aw, fuck. You thought you were being sneaky about it, too!
“Well...”
>Now that the secret’s out, you openly take another look at it.
>Ink Well titters, covering up with her hooves.
>”Lewd~.”
“Maybe. But now I’ve got one for you.”
>You lean forward, lightly booping her nose to punctuate your point.
“Did you know that I’d love to rub my face in your chest fluff?”
>She squeaks, face turning a shade of red visible even through her coat, but it turns into a bubbly laugh.
>”Oooooo, naughty, mister. Buuuut... did you know... that I just might let you...”
>Her front hooves slowly undo the top button on her blouse.
>”If...”
>Then the second button.
>”You confirm one last bit of trivia for me. I heard a little rumor that human fingers feel great on pony ears...”
>The third button comes undone, and she pulls the blouse open wide, revealing your personal fluffy heaven.
>You lean forward, hands slowly coming up towards the top of her head as you smile and stare into those dark, bronze-colored eyes.
“I’d be happy to confirm that for you, Ink.”
>Your hands eagerly get to work rubbing and caressing her soft ears, sometimes working their way down to scratch just behind them.
>Ink Well coos.
>”Mmmmmm. It really is true...”
>You can’t hold yourself back anymore.
>As gently as you can manage given your intense lust for that tuft, you sweep her up and onto her back, laying her out before you on your desk.
>She gasps, then gives a gasp of a different sort as your hands return to her ears and your face plunges into what you were promised.
>It’s everything you hoped it would be and then some.
>As soft as down, warm even against your flushed face, and Ink Well’s racing heartbeat provides a soothing ambiance.
>You slowly turn your head left and right, enjoying the feeling of her on your face.
>You both lose track of time.
>By the time you pull back from your new addiction, it’s been almost half an hour.
>Ink Well looks up at you, tilting her head.
>”Y-You don’t have to stop.”
“And I don’t want to. But I need to take this report over to Windsor. I’ll be right back.”
>You lightly touch your nose to hers.
“Don’t move an inch.”
>”Hurry baaa~aack.”
>You set a new personal walking speed record on your way to the boss’ office.
>Running in the halls is against the rules and you learned a long time ago that pony police take their jobs way too seriously.
>You step through the door and place the paper down in front of your waiting boss with a flourish.
“Here you go, Windsor. One Cool Facts Report.”
>”Perfect! Great work, Anon.”
>He picks it up, giving it a quick read.
>”This is great! I didn’t know any of this stuff. And Ink Well helped, huh? Maybe we should get her to help more!”
“I wholeheartedly agree. In fact, she’s already helping me with another project. I gotta get back to it. See ya later, boss.”
>”Wow, you’re really something Anon! I look forward to reading it!”
>So do you.
>You powerwalk straight back to your office to find Ink Well sitting right where you left her.
>The sultry stare and hooves spread wide speak for themselves.
>You lock your door behind you.
>Today was an office tryst sort of day.

>Day Destress in Equestria
>You are once again Anon, ace employee of Poneco. and mare body enthusiast.
>Things have been absolutely bonkers at work recently. There are tiny little horses scurrying around everywhere you look, all desperate to catch up on work they'd been slacking off on.
>You make your way back to your office to find a fresh stack of papers someone put on your desk.
>You heave a sigh and sink into your seat, pulling them closer to begin working.
>You haven't seen Ink Well since you two canoodled in your office.
>You can't enough of that fluff.
>You'd kept her in your office almost to sunset that day scratching her ears and rubbing her chest with your face.
>You can still feel it when you focus on the memory. It was that good.
>But ever since this crunch started, you haven't been able to find her at work.
>You heave a sigh. Nothing to be done about it now.
>You pull the first sheet off the stack and ready your quill pen.
>They had you double-checking the accountants' math these days.
>Ponies are generally bad at it, and you knowing your multiplication table by heart blew a few minds in the accounting department.
>They practically begged Windsor to let you help them out.
>You eye the crayon-scrawled addition and subtraction, correcting totals and pointing out mistakes.
>It's in no way difficult. Just time consuming.
>You make your way through the stack, visions of Ink Well dancing through your head.
>The cutie with the snootie.
>The chest that did not rest.
>The eyes that mesmerized.
>You've got it bad, Anon.
>You pause to stretch out your hand, thinking.
>You should at least drop by her office later. See how she's doing. Maybe she got buried in work.
>Literally, knowing ponies.
>Time advances, and you finally finish your work.
>You drop it off at accounting and all the little horses cheer.
>Feels good, man.
>It takes you a bit to navigate the hallways amidst panicking ponies, but you finally get to Ink's door.
>You knock.
"Hey Ink Well, you there? It's Anon."
>You hear a muffled noise from within.
>After a second of hesitation, you open the door.
>Turns out your guess was right on the mark.
>Where Ink Well's desk should be is a stack of papers so high and thick you couldn't see anything behind them.
>You cross the room, slowly sifting through the stacks until you unearth her.
"Better?"
>"Oh, thank you so much! I bit off a little more than I could chew..."
>You kneel down to receive her hug.
"Just a little, huh? Seems like you could use some help Ink. May I?"
>"Oh, no, I couldn't! You always work so hard, Anon! I... I actually tried this because of you."
>She turns away, blushing faintly.
>"I've always admired how hard you can work. After... After the other day, I thought I should try and make things easier on you by doing more."
>A faint burning sensation is felt in your heart.
"That's really sweet of you, Ink. But I'd feel bad just leaving you to suffer through all this. Let me help."
>You have to dig out enough space to sit down at her "desk," such as it is.
>Looks more like one of those little plastic tables for kids.
>With your help, things go much more smoothly, but Ink facedesks after a couple hours of work.
>"Uuuuuuugggh. I just can't figure it out, Anon. How do you do it? I feel like my brain's going numb."
>You chuckle, giving her ear an encouraging scratch.
"It's just a human thing. Don't worry too much about it. You did a good job hanging in there."
>You turn back to keep working while she rests.
>She wasn't just saying that about trying to help you, it looks like a lot of this work came from accounting.
>Maybe if they didn't spend so much on snacks they wouldn't have to keep adding up all these store receipts, but what do you know?
>Ink Well turns her head to rest on its side, peering up at you.
>"...I couldn't stop thinking about your hands."
>You smile, reaching over to boop her nose.
"I had a similar problem with your chest fluff."
>She giggles, eyes crossing to watch your finger press against her nose.
>There's a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Just the sound of you using one of her crayons to write, and the sound of her tail swishing.
>"...Do you wanna take a break with me...?"
>You tap the crayon against your chin in consideration.
>Who the fuck are you kidding? You'd been hoping for this the moment you set foot in her office.
"Does the princess like cake? C'mere."
>She squeals happily as you lift her into your lap. One of your hands gets to work scratching behind her ears.
>The other runs its fingers through her long, slightly curly mane.
>It's rare to see a pony with black hair, but Ink's is so dark and lustrous you could almost swear it's just a really dark blue instead of black.
>Like a living ink spill coming off her head, the locks are smooth to the touch.
>She hums quietly, enjoying your attention.
>"I'm starting to think your hands are magic."
"Hahaha. Think so, huh? Maybe I should open a massage parlor."
>"That would be cool... Wait, but then you wouldn't work here anymore! Everypony would be sad."
>Awwwww.
>You give her a little scratch under the chin.
>After thoroughly grooming her mane and scratching the daylights out of her ears, you can't contain yourself.
>Your hands slide down her back, making her shiver before arriving at the little buttons in front.
>The buttons that stand between you and the most comfortable thing you've ever felt.
>Ink Well shivers as you undo the top three and slide your hand in under the fabric of her clothes, raking your fingers through the coat on her barrel.
>She raises her forelegs to help you pull her shirt off, making it easier to get at her.
>Your arms ensnare her again, and you get all ten fingers massaging in gentle circles up and down the sides of her body.
>She lays back against you, eyes closed and a happy smile on her lips.
>You've worked your way up to her shoulders when somebody knocks on the door.
>Ink squeaks in panic and your hands fumble with her shirt as a voice calls through the door.
>"Ink Well, have you seen Anon? We can't find him anywhere!"
>You guess they need more help. You pull Inks shirt back over her shoulders and gently slide her off your lap, leaving her to button up as you get the door.
>Upon opening it, you see Long Divide, the head of accounting.
>"Oh, you're here! That's great, Anon. We still have more for you to do. Can you come right now?"
>You heave an internal sigh as you respond.
"Sure, I'll be right there."
>You look over your shoulder to see Ink Well looking as if nothing ever happened.
>She gives you a warm smile, and mouths:
>"After work, your office."
>You smile back before heading out the door.

To be continued.