>”Oh Hey, Anon. Just the guy I was looking for.”
>You jolt back slightly as Rainbow Dash slams your locker door.
“Wh- This is the male changing room, you know?”
>She sighs through pursed lips.
>”Don’t worry. I locked the door. Nobody’s interrupting us.”
>She advances towards you, forcing you to step back and eventually fall down onto one of the benches.
>There’s a look on her face. A smug simper, but that’s not it; that’s always there. It’s like she knows something. 
“Did you... want something?”
>She leans on her soccer ball against the wall, arm outstretched and blocking your exit route.
>Judging by the grass stains on her shirt and her unkempt hair, it seems like she’s come straight from practice.
>”Well...” She deliberates, tapping a finger against her chin and hitting you with that same knowing smile.
>”I came across some pretty interesting information earlier today, Anon. I think you’ll find it even more interesting than I did.”
>You roll your eyes. Looks like getting to your next class on time is out of the question.
“What?”
>She tosses the soccer ball between her hands.
>”You know, Anon, always check you’re logged out of a library computer before you let someone else use it.”
>There it is. Fuck. Now probably comes the part where she tries to extort money from you. You try to remember what you even have saved on your computer, and suddenly it hits you. You freeze.
>”I found some pretty interesting stuff on there. I’m sure you can imagine how surprised I was to find it was your account.” 
>She chuckles; a short, but wholly condescending chuckle that only makes you feel more humiliated.
“What do you want?”
>”Hey! Why do think I want anything? I just came to make you a little... offer. That’s all!”
>You eye her up but her proud, smirking face remains unchanged.
“What kind of offer?”
>”Well I found myself reading some of those stories you typed out, Anon. Who knew you were into such weird shit?”
“Ok. I get it. What offer?”
>She wants to dance around the point a little longer, though; it’s like she’s relishing in making you embarrassed.
>”Kinda behind on a couple of essays for English class. I figure you’re such a prolific writer maybe you could help me out?”
“What, or you’ll go show Celestia? Get me suspended?”
>She shakes her head.
>”C’mon, Anon! What do you take me for? You’re my friend, and friends help each other out.”
>She goes back to leaning one outstretched arm against the wall. You can’t help but notice a few stray black hairs poking out from the short sleeve of her shirt.
>You just stare up at her again. You’re clearly not following.
>”Maybe I could help you out with some of these fantasies. If you wrote that much out about them you must be pretty sexually repressed!”
>She laughs, but you don’t find it funny.
>”Besides, who else would be willing to do that stuff? Rarity? Come on. It works out perfectly. I even practiced for an extra hour for you. Just so I could really work up a sweat.”
>It’s hard not to notice the damp patches under her arms and along her sides. 
“What’s the catch?”
>”No catch. You finish my essays for me, and I give you an hour alone with me right now. I’ll do everything you wrote about in those dirty little stories. Everything.” 
>Her mouth sounds out every syllable of that last word, just to show you she’s serious.
>To be honest, it doesn’t surprise you much. Dash has never had hygiene at the top of her list of priorities.
“Fine. I agree.” 
>You expect her to point and laugh; to reveal this was all some big set up, but she doesn’t.
>Instead, she spits into her hand and holds it out to you.
>You hesitate.
>”Come on. If you can’t handle a little spit there’s no way you’re handling the other stuff I’ve got in store for you.”
>So, you spit on your own hand and shake. A gross, wet handshake to mark the start of what will be a gross sixty minutes.
>”So now...”
>She raises her foot up onto the bench beside you, her groin inches away from your face.
>”..I’m all yours.”

>Immediately you’re hit by the sharp, stagnant stench that’s emanating from her sweat-drenched shorts. If anything, lifting her leg up like this is just unleashing the pent-up sweaty odors.
>”Well? You gonna just sit there?”
>Before you can respond she reaches down and shoves your head right into her crotch; the dampened Lycra is soggy against your cheek, and the smell is even more overpowering this close up.
>Still, you intake sharp, desperate snorts. Your head spins as you fill your lungs with the acrid, swampy aroma.
>”Whew! That does NOT smell good. Guess that’s what you like, though, huh?”
>You lick and sniff, rubbing along to where her pert pussy sits beneath the thin fabric veneer; it’s letting off its own certain smell. 
>It’s a musk that’s unique to Rainbow Dash and nobody else; the kind of smell you feel like you shouldn’t even be smelling. A completely and totally private scent.
>She releases the pressure from the back of your head and you pull yourself away, out of breath and still staring at the perfectly moistened pair of shorts.
>God, how much you wish you could be those shorts; experience every smell and sensation they do when they ride up her sweaty crack during a soccer match; that sweat pooling between those rounded fat cheeks of hers and fermenting over the course of the hot, sticky afternoon.
>”Hey! Up here. Got something else for you to sniff, you little perv.”
>You bring your head up and see she’s got one arm over her head; her pit is exposed and ripe for the sniffing.
>With an uncontrollable moan you bury your nose into the thick, jungle-like bristles.
>Your nose is assaulted by a bitter, penetrating odor. It stings the back of your nose like burning rubber.
>You decide to try giving the sweaty bush a lick, too; just as tart as it smells.
>It’s pretty clear Dash doesn’t bother shaving her armpits. Probably not a good idea when she’s constantly building up such a sweat, but for the sake of this session, it’s perfect. She’s perfect.
>Your nose still deep in her armpit hair, one of your hands reaches up to massage her small, tender breast. 
>”Heh. You really do love this stuff, huh?”
>She’s noticed the bulge in your pants. Your dick is rock hard, and it would be impossible to even try and disguise that fact.
>”Hey. Don’t worry. Guess it means I’m doing something right, huh?”
>She chuckles to herself. It’s quite amazing just how willing she is to do this for you - something that few girls would ever indulge in, not for any amount of money.
>Dash doesn’t need money, though. She’s naturally sweaty, so if she can make a friend happy with that, she’s going to.
>She gives you the other armpit to explore, and it’s just as overpowering. The kind of smell that feels like it’s burning your throat.
>”Don’t think I don’t know exactly what you want.” 
>You pull yourself away again, dizzy and aroused.
>Dash looks down at you with a sultry grin, and removing her foot from the bench, turns around for you. 
>She bends over slightly, and you’re presented with her ass.
>The tight soccer pants hug the curvaceous shape of her cheeks perfectly; rounded and slightly creased along the cleft. With one hand she gives her ass a smack and you watch it jiggle.
>”It’s a perfect ass, right? It’s okay. You don’t have to lie.”
>As egotistical as Dash can be, she’s not wrong. It’s one of the most perfectly-shaped, perfectly plump butts you’ve ever seen.
>A steam of sweat radiates from it; a big dark patch lined right down the middle.
>She spreads her cheeks apart, mounding them like dough in her hands, and in parting them reveals that coveted crevice that sits between.
>Your face falls forward with a gentle thud into her ass and the heavy, earthy aroma of collected, congealed sweat and ass juice hits you like a brick wall.
>You feel a little precum leak out as your nose trails up and down the drenched seat of the pants; her two toned orbs pressing either side of your face. It’s heaven.
>The stench of her unwashed ass is so strong you become lightheaded, but nothing short of passing out is going to stop you from sniffing like crazy.
>”God, my crack feels like a sauna.”
>She reaches back and pulls her trapped panties from the crevice, snapping her cheeks back into place and then pressing the soft, warm ass against your face again.
>She pulls it away again, giving it another little slap for your sake.
>At this point your dick feels like it’s about to burst.
>As you sit and stew in the sweaty aromas singed into your senses, a quiet, rasping bassy sound comes from just in front of you.
>”Ah - Whoops! That was an accident. Taco Tuesday always does that to me!”
>Rainbow Dash laughs to herself, not seemingly that embarrassed, and fans the fart away from her ass.
>Her efforts aren’t enough to stop the smell hitting you, though.
>A pungent, sour, eggy wind that only makes you more dizzy and more aroused.
>”Or... do you like that, too?”
>She looks down over her shoulder, and seeing your dick is still rock hard, gets her answer.
>Dash picks up her soccer ball again and holds it firmly against her ass. 
>With a gentle push, she manages to produce a deep muffled ringing sound that reverberates around the inside of the ball.
>She holds it up to her face and gives it a sniff. The disgusted sound she makes in response makes her throw the ball away.
>”Nasty! Still, I think I’ve got one more in there, so better not let it go to waste!”
>She bends herself forward, shoulders rising up as she forces out a wet, congested-sounding ripper into her damp shorts and then, with no precaution, stuffs your face right into the sulfur-tinged swamp-like crevice of her ass.
>The concentrated smell of her fart is admittedly a little too strong for even you, but you grin and bear it. Feeling that same burning sensation all the way down your throat.
>”I got one more thing I wanna try. I have to admit, this was one I thought was kinda hot myself.” 
>She pulls herself away with a sigh and then reaches down to her shoe.
>You simply watch silently as she begins untying the laces, eventually freeing her foot from its prison.
>”Whew! It was getting pretty clammy in there.”
>With a girlish giggle she raises the foot up to you, pointing her sock-covered toes right under your nose.
>It’s damp against your skin, and when you take a whiff it almost knocks you back.

>This shocked reaction seems to get a good laugh out of Rainbow Dash, though.
>”Ha! Pretty bad, isn’t it?”
>You cough into your hand, wiping a tear from your eye. It has the potency of ripened cheese, but strangely enough, it doesn’t quell your arousal one bit.
>She sits down on the bench beside you, still emanating her atrociously putrid body odor, and peels the sock off from her foot.
>She wiggles her toes.
>”Okay. Get your dick out.”
“Wh-Huh?”
>She stares at you like you’re stupid.
>”What? You thought I was going to leave you like this? What kind of friend would do that, Anon?”
>Deciding you’re taking too long, she reaches down and pulls your pants away, allowing your member to spring up. 
>”Hm. I guess that’s not too bad.” She mutters to herself, and then takes the sock she just removed, sheathing your penis inside.
>You gasp. The damp fabric rubs against your cock, exciting it further and sending a wave of pleasure shooting through your lower body.
>With a firm grip she starts to jerk up and down. Her grip is so firm, in fact, that it squeezes some of the sweat collected in the sock onto your dick.
“Holy-“
>”I bet a messed up mind like yours prefers this to the real deal.” 
>She snickers and continues massaging your dick through the sock, using her thumb to rub over the head as she speeds up.
>You’re swarmed from every side by some kind of odor; an amalgam of every disgusting emanation from every pit, crack and crevice on her unwashed, perspiring body. 
>There’s a warm aura of sweaty body heat coming from her, that seems to increase as she gets more vigorous in her masturbation.
>After only a minute or two, you can hold back no longer, and feel every muscle tense up as hard as stone; a stuttered gasp escapes you as you unload a volley of thick, pent-up ejaculate into the soggy sleeve that’s still held around your cock.
>”There we go.” Rainbow encourages, still jerking you a little to make sure you empty your balls completely.
>It’s the kind of orgasm that’s so intense it leaves you dazed for a moment, which gives her a chance to remove the sock, giving it a sniff and then throwing it aside.
>Your session is over, and she gets up to leave you, but not before doing one last thing.
>”Hey, Anon! Bet I make you hard again.”
>You look up at her. She’s removing her other sock. 
>Without even a second of hesitation, she holds it up above her open mouth and wrings a rivulet of sweat into it, swishing it around in her mouth and gulping audibly.
>This girl knows no bounds when it comes to atrocious personal hygiene, but that only makes you love her more.
>With that, she leaves you alone to clean up and try to even start to comprehend things.
>”Oh, Anon!”
>She pops her head back around with a grin.
>”Same time next week?”