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04/11/12(Wed)21:48 No.1206705>"You should know better, I have to practice for the Gala and -oof!" You cut her off, dumping her on the couch and rubbing her hind leg. >She sighs deeply as you rub at her tense muscles, hoping to relieve the soreness from standing to play one two fewer legs than ponies are built for. Your dexterous hands rubs in tiny circles at the muscles in her legs, and she happily hums to herself (her latest piece of course) as you tend to her >You move your hands up and across her flank, causing her to eye you grumpily as you rub a little too hard at a knot in her muscles >Gently, you encircle it with your hands, warming and rubbing it away >Quickly, you blow a tiny raspberry on her belly, foring a laugh from her that sounds like soft chimes. Finally you press out the knot, eliciting a low moan from her. >"See, you like it." She opens her mouth to respond, but instead comes out another soft peal of laughter as she puts out her bowing foreleg to you. >You wrap your fingers around it, working your palms against her tight ligaments. She leans in close, resting her head on your shoulder. Her mane smells like the heavy and sweet maple wood of her cello, and the tang of the waxy resin for her bow; like sheets of paper from music books. >You finish the massage, fingers tracing a small circle around her shoulder as she sits up and blinks. "So, may I resume my practice now?" She asks, looking to you expectantly. >"Sure. Though you already sound great to me." Octavia beams at you, and then leans in to rest her cheek against yours. "Thanks for the break." |