20% Lesser
Copyright© 2024 by Eccho Steem
Well, That Was Unexpected
Fan Fiction Sex Story: Well, That Was Unexpected - Here's an mlp fanfiction because there's never been one before. Feels like there should be. Anyways, it's an au "love story" between Scootaloo and Rainbow Dash. Hope you enjoy. There will be weekly uploads if you do. So...stay tuned if you do indeed find it quite neat.
Caution: This Fan Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/ft Teenagers Lesbian Fiction Fan Fiction School Teacher/Student
-Rainbow Dash POV-
I can’t help but question if this guy knew that every time he says “up”, it sounds like he’s burping. Did no one tell him? They just let him spout off in the studio without any direction? Does anyone else hear it? Is it just me? These are the real questions.
Regardless, I’m sure even he’d be better at this test than most of this class. I’d bet if he were still alive right now, he’d pose a threat. It’s like a slow motion “do the worm” challenge going on. Does form not mean anything anymore? What happened to this country?
I guess it’s not all bad, though. New girl’s doing fine, Babs is doing fine, Silver’s ... Cozy’s doing fine, so for the most part, everyone competent is looking kosher. Especially Scootaloo. Flawless form, consistent pace, she’s really focusing right now.
I really do inspire her, huh? Just look at that focused face as she nears her goal. Come on, girl. Just 10 more to go. You can do it.
9. 8. 7. 6. Uh oh. She’s starting to feel it now. Her arms are shaking and she’s slowing down. Well, I have an instant fix for this problem.
I head over to her and get in position, meeting her face to face as I lower myself to the floor. She mimics my act, lowering to my level. I then push myself up in accordance with the old fart on the radio with her following behind, struggling as she hisses in fatigue.
“Come on, don’t quit on me now,” I encourage, lowering down again on cue, “9 more, Scoot. Let’s go.”
She nods before lowering with me, preparing to finish this.
“8. 7. There we go. 6. 5. 4. Push it. 3. You got it. 2. Let’s go, Scoot. One more.”
We descend for one final push, but she’s suffering tremendously from it. Her arms look like they’re gonna give out. But they won’t. She won’t let them. I won’t let her let them.
“Get up, Scoot. Get up. This ain’t nothin. Get up. Yeah, there you go. Push. Little more. Little more.”
She groans and sputters in agony, inching more and more to the top. Yeah, she’ll definitely feel this tomorrow, no doubt. But this is now. And right now, she’s almost there.
And there it is. She fully extends her arms, finishing her challenge. Granted, I can’t legally count it, but she doesn’t have to know that. We’ll just call it a moral victory.
“Yes! Haha! See? That wasn’t so hard, right?”
She doesn’t even get to respond as her arms completely give out on her. Heh. The ultimate sign of doing the body good. I sit up on a knee, rubbing her back and saying,
“Give those arms a good rest. And don’t forget to hydrate yourself. A lot. Water’s important.”
“Y-yes, ma’am,” she croaks
I then stand up to see the progress of the others. Unsurprisingly, they don’t make it very far. Cozy gives out first, then the new girl. So Babs is the last one standing ... or pushing. That’s good. At least for her. She’s making me look competent for having more students be more attentive to their health. So what the hell? Why am I not happier about that?
The next two classes go by and I’m met with disappointment. But not in the sense that I thought I would. Sure, people still suck ass at doing push ups, but more students are surprisingly proving me wrong. Now, while that should garner some form of jovial reaction in my brain, I just can’t. No matter how good or bad they’re doing, I just can’t help but feel that something’s just wrong. They’re not ... failing right.
As absolutely fucking dumb as that sounds, that’s just what I’m feeling right now. They’re either doing what they need to do, too far off for any aid to even consider helping, or just genuinely and blatantly couldn’t give a rat’s ass. There’s no discernable spark in them. No fire. No flare. No drive of any kind. It’s just arm movements.
But why do I care this much about it? I’ve long come to accept that searching for that stuff in a high school is just a huge waste of time. It’s all about performance, anyways. Doesn’t matter how, as long as you’re giving results. So what’s going on?
“Uh- ... Coach Dash?” Flurry says, bringing me back to Earth,
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“The locker rooms?”
“Oh, right! Shit, I’m sorry.”
That’s what you get for being in your head too much, Dashie. Chill. Just focus on the next showcase after lunch. As unbearable as that’ll be.
And after 10 agonizing minutes, that precious lunch bell rings. And that chicken tikka masala is calling my name. So I make my way to the break room, fixing my mouth for that chickeny saucey goodness.
“Hey, Rainbow,” Twilight greets, joining me in my pursuit,
“Oh, hey,” I greet back,
“So ... Hot in your room? Or are you just trying something out with that jacket?”
Oh, right! I’m supposed to kill her. Maybe later. I’ve got lunch to think about. Speaking of, we’re finally here. We collect our respective lunches from the fridge with me tossing mine in the microwave before turning my attention back to her as she sits down at the table.
“You’re a real douche. I hope you know that.”
“Yes I do. But in my defense, I probably did your students a favor. What is it you’re always saying? ‘The right motivation does the body good’; do i have that right?”
“Are you really implying my class is that immature where showing a bit of skin is all it takes to ravage me with their eyes like a pack of rabid savages?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Ouch.”
“Rainbow, you’re dealing with high schoolers and you’re mostly covered with that tracksuit everyday. You better believe they’re gonna go a little feral the second they get some eye candy. Especially when it comes to these jawbreakers.”
She playfully nips at my chest with me warding her off as we both share a laugh.
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