"Any progress, Purplebook?" you ask Purplebook, shoving your head in the door to her library.
>She sighs
>"No, Femanon, I still can't turn you into a rabbit."
"You fucking suck, Twi." you say, not really meaning it, but leaving all the same.
>"No!" says Twilight, "The insult-based nature of human friendship sucks!"
>But you were already gone, and only Spike was around to hear her shouting.
>"Femanon insults you, Twi?" he said, naively.
>Twilight rolled her eyes, groaning softly in frustration, then spoke.
>"I don't know, Spike. She says human friendships are just like that, but that seems so strange to me. I could never call my friends things like, 'bitch' and 'slut' and...all those other things she calls me."
>Spike cuckled softly.
>"That's weird." he began. "Fem only ever calls me 'cutie'. And 'handsome'."
>Twilight rolled her eyes at that too.
>"I tell you, Twi, if me and Rarity weren't meant to be, Femanon would be my number one!"
>Twilight had already returned to sorting some books.
>"I think Femanon already has a number one, Spike..."
 
****
 
>You walk away from the magic tree your purple jackass of a friend lives in, feeling a soft white paw cycling up and down your leg as you walked.
>You look down and smile, but inwardly, you feel a little frustated.
"I'm sure she'll have it one of these days, Angel." you say to the bunny who stole your heart.
>He looks at you, a little miffed as well, though he wears his annoyance on his sleeve, like always.
"Trust me, I don't like it either. I wanna feel that dick the way it was meant to be felt. Working around this size difference has been... well, it's been something we have to work around."
>Your's and Angel's preferred lettuce stand comes into view as you crest a slight hill on Ponyville's main street.
>Angel just looks up at you. Still frowning.
>But, with an extra-high hop, he squeezes your head into the best hug his tiny form can manage.
>And you feel your heart warming as you once again realize your favorite realization - as much as this furry ball of negativity gets mad at everything, he's never once been mad at you.
>Not even Yellowanimals can say that.
>But then you suck his dick, like, every day.
>Eagerly.
>And Fluttershy only gives that kinda love to that bear, Harry.
>So you have to imagine that helps.
 
****
 
>A few moments later, Angel is nuzzling your calf as the lettuce salespony hands you your change.
>Smiling, you reach down and pick him up - gently, always gently - and place him on your shoulder.
>He loves when you do this, and, frankly, you do too.
>There's nothing like having your studmuffin of a rabbit lovingly caress your face as you walk all the way home.
>Among other reasons, it puts that cute little sheath of his juuuust at mouth-level with the way he stands.
>And the motion of your walking makes those furry testes bounce, teasingly, mouth-wateringly...
>You're maybe 20 feet from the stand when you get an idea - inspired mostly by the wet spot you suspect will soon form in your pants.
"Hey, uh, Angel..." you begin.
>His ears perk up, ready to listen.
>You struggle not to lick your lips.
"What if we buy a few extra leaves of lettuce and... find somewhere nice and private for you to eat them off of me?"
>Angel thinks this is a good plan.
>You know this because: while some people have never seen a sexy little critter bite their lower lip in anticipation, sweet, red organ just beginning to poke out from its resting place, you are not one of those people.
>And you're looking at that right now.
>It doesn't hurt that he nods in affirmation.
 
****
 
>As you approach the stand, the mare behind the counter smiles, warmly, innocently.
>Not the kinda smile you and Angel are smiling.
>"Back for more?" she says, already reaching under the counter for another head.
"That's right." you say.
"Somehow I find I always have room for more."
>You chuckle inwardly, thinking of how that statement relates to having a boyfriend less than a tenth your size.
>One of Angel's tiny, harmless claws drags itself down your leg, and it's a struggle not to man and take him right then.
>He gives you another sensual - if short - scratch, and you realize he's reminding you of the one sexual gift he does have: the nonexistant refractory period of all rabbits.
>"You always got room for more?" you feel he'd be saying. "Well that's good. I can always give more."
>Finally feeling some dripping happening down below, you thank your lucky stars your zoophile self ended up here, in Equestria.
>And you already know it's gonna be a good day.