Applejack Season - Author Unknown


                                            "Where's Applejack?"

                                            >Twilight and Rarity stare up at you from across the table you're sharing at Sugarcube Corner.

                                            >The four of you always meet for drinks here every Sunday; it's the day of the week you wandered into town, dazed and steaming from your accident.

                                            >The two mares look at each other, then back to you.

                                            "Anonymous, darling. Didn't you hear?"

                                            >You tilt your head, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

                                            "She's having her season. Oh, thank you, Pinkie Pie."

                                            >Rarity takes the drink offered to her by the pink party pony, sipping daintily.

                                            >Twilight nods in agreement with her friend.

                                            >You scrunch up your face pensively.

                                            "Season? I'm lost."

                                            >Now it's Twilight's turn to raise an eyebrow.

                                            "You know, Anon. Her season. Every mare has one."

                                            >You offer a lame shrug, spreading your hands.

                                            >Twilight sighs and facehoofs.

                                            "Oh, come on. You can't expect me to believe they don't have mating seasons back where you come from."

                                            >Your eyebrows nearly rocket off your face and into low orbit.

                                            "Mating season?"

                                            >Twilight switches gears almost instantly, perking up and producing a quill with scroll from nowhere.

                                            "Wow, really? So your females have an equal chance of conceiving year-round?"

                                            "Twilight! Darling! This is hardly proper public decorum!"

                                            >Twilight huffs softly, setting her equipment down.

                                            >You're flushing like a madman, turning your eyes down to stare at your Triple Chocolate Double Whammy Surprise.

                                            >Rarity offers a small giggle, setting her drink down, her horn's glow dimming.


                                            "Come now, Anonymous. Is it so surprising? She's a young mare in the prime of her life."

                                            >You take a bite of your cake, using the fork to point at the two mares.

                                            "Well, that still doesn't answer why she isn't here. I mean, she's in her season. So she's a little more eager than usual."

                                            >Twilight looks at Rarity, before looking at you and leaning in close.

                                            "Anon, Applejack is an Earth pony. Her season is a lot more intense than what we Unicorns or Pegasi have to go through. Not only that, she's Applejack. She's a very hardy pony."

                                            >Rarity nods and lowers her voice, leaning her head in to whisper.

                                            "If Applejack were outside and around any stallions right now..."

                                            >Her voice trails off.

                                            >You're a big man. You can connect the dots.

                                            "So...what, She's back at Sweet Apple Acres? Just working and going home?"

                                            >Twilight shakes her head.

                                            "You're not getting it, Anon. She's going to be in her room, probably for a week if not more. She won't even be able to be around her big brother."

                                            >Your blush still deepens, and you suddenly become very interested in your cake.

                                            >Pinkie Pie hops by and asks if you'd like something more to drink.

                                            >You accept, watching her bounce off.

                                            >A sudden morbid thought crosses your mind.

                                            >If Applejack's season is bad enough that she needs to be quarantined away from even her male family members...

                                            >What in the Nine Hells would a Pinkie Pie season be like?


                                            >Evening is moving on. You've finished doing some minor cleaning work at Sugarcube Corner for about twenty bits. Not too bad for cleaning the ovens.

                                            >You're walking home down one of the main thoroughfares of Ponyville when a familiar voice catches your ear.

                                            "Anon. Can ya wait a minute?"

                                            >You look up to see Big Macintosh ambling toward you.

                                            >Smiling, you wave. He nods his head in return.

                                            "I suppose you've heard about Applejack's condition."

                                            >You nod, sliding your hands in your jacket pockets.

                                            >Equestria has a bit of a cooler climate than Earth, and being a hairless ape, you've got it a bit harder than furred ponies.

                                            >Macintosh continues.

                                            "With her out of the apple orchards, we're two good applebuckin' legs short. I remember you helpin' us build that fence some months back and I was gonna ask if you'd like to help us pick up her slack."

                                            >Oh thank Celestia.

                                            >Ever since you've arrived here, you've been struggling to find a good niche.

                                            >Back home, you worked with electronics.

                                            >Here, such things are a novelty at best. And forget trying to figure out the unicorn magic that powers them.

                                            >So, of course, you're eager for the chance at a week of solid work for good pay. The Apple family has never done you wrong.

                                            "Is it just applebucking?"

                                            "Eeyup."

                                            "Normal rate?"

                                            "Plus extra for the short notice."

                                            "I'm in."

                                            "Eeyup. See you bright and early tomorrow morning, Anon."

                                            "Take it easy, Macintosh."

                                            "Eeyup."

                                            >You part ways with a respectful nod, pulling your coat closer around yourself.

                                            >Truth be told, you really did miss having Applejack around for your weekly get-together.

                                            >The two of you have been friends, chatting together whenever you had time alone.

                                            >Her smile, that laugh, the way she could always tell if you were having a bad day and trying to hide it.

                                            >Maybe you did like her a bit more than her friends.

                                            >And maybe you weren't just excited at the prospect of some work.

                                            >Deep down, maybe just maybe you were looking forward to a glimpse of her smiling face.

                                            >To hear that drawl.

                                            >Before you know it, you've reached your small apartment. Fumbling for your key, you open your door and step inside.

                                            >It's a lot more homey than when you first arrived. Books line the shelves, some small electronic bits lay on a small table next to a soldering iron.

                                            >You start up some dinner, sitting down at your workbench.

                                            >You WILL have a working GameBoy, goddammit.


                                            RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!

                                            >Fucking alarm clock.

                                            >Fucking 4 AM in the goddamn morning.

                                            >Fucking fuck the fucking FUCK of the fuck!

                                            >Eloquent fucking bastard you are.

                                            >Sitting up in your inexpensive yet surprisingly comfy bed, you rub your eyes free of the thick shmutz that always gums it up when you force yourself up this early.

                                            >A shower and some coffee later, you're beginning to feel almost human.

                                            >Five AM rolls around, and you're walking down the dirt path toward Sweet Apple Acres, a delicious cream cheese turnover held in one hand.

                                            >You miss meat; it's hard being an omnivore in an herbivorous world.

                                            >Sometimes you can convince Fluttershy to shoot you some fish sandwiches. But that's as close as you'll ever get anymore.

                                            >Beef? Forget about it. You wouldn't even bother to ask, not when the cows talk around here.

                                            >The smell of trees and fresh apples caresses you like the warm arms of an old friend.

                                            >Apple country. Rolling hills, green and glistening with dew.

                                            >Apple trees, rustling gently in the early morning breeze.

                                            >Even in the low light of Luna's moon, you can see the apples shining softly, nestled between the leaves.

                                            >Taking a sip of your coffee, you open the front gate, closing it as you make your way up toward the barn.

                                            >Fuck me, is Big Macintosh already up and about? It's barely 5:30 AM.

                                            >Damn right he is. He's got the buckets already lined up and waiting for you.


                                            >He gives you a nod before grabbing the bit on his small wagon, trotting out into the South fields to begin collecting.

                                            >A hard twelve-hour day of work ahead of you, you stretch your back out slowly.

                                            >You were always a nerd, a weakling, back where you came from.

                                            >Months of working for the Apples, on-and-off, as well as a vegetarian diet have honed you into an entirely different beast.

                                            >You'll never be a beefcake, but underneath your comfortable working clothes, you've got tight, stringy muscles that can do this job almost as well as Applejack herself.

                                            >Doesn't hurt that you've got Anon's Little Helper: a heavy, two-handed mallet.

                                            >It was painful lesson, learning the difference between soft human feet and hard pony hooves.

                                            >Hefting your hammer into your cart, you check on your buckets before lifting the cart handles and jogging out toward the South Field.

                                            >The sun is barely peeking over the horizon when you finally reach a small cosp of ripe apple trees.

                                            >Pulling your hammer and buckets out of the cart, you set the buckets down next to the tree.

                                            >Positioning them just so, in order to catch as many apples as possible.

                                            >Even having done this job before, you're sure you're going to be picking up apples all day.

                                            >Heaving the mallet over your shoulder, you spread your legs and turn your shoulders level with the tree.

                                            >You swing the mallet in a wide arc, parallel with the ground.

                                            "hhhhhYYAH!"

                                            GRUNCH!

                                            WHUMP!

                                            >Applebucking Season has begun.


                                            >Six hours later, your shirt has come off, you've sweated enough to fill a lake, and your throat is feeling incredibly dry.

                                            >You're standing in front of what feels like the billionth tree in an interminable conga line of trees, mallet pressed down to the ground, waiting on some water delivery.

                                            "Here I come, Anon!"

                                            >Celestia bless fillies like Applebloom.

                                            >She's carrying a large bucket of cold water on top of her adorably round head, balancing it easily as she trots up to you.

                                            >You graciously take the bucket and bring the wooden edge to your lips, gulping down the cool liquid with long, greedy pulls.

                                            >Some water spills over the sides of your face and runs down your bare front.

                                            >You give precisely 0.0 fucks.

                                            >Applebloom giggles at the spectacle. You put your hand in the bucket and flick some water at her. She squeals in surprise and shakes the water out of her mane, laughing.

                                            "Anon! That's coooold!"

                                            >You chuckle, reaching up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

                                            "Thanks for the water, Applebloom."

                                            >The little filly grins up at you before turning around and trotting off happily to find Big Macintosh.

                                            >Reaching down, you pluck a few apples from the ground. Lunch time.Thankfully the Apple family don't mind if you nick a few apples.

                                            >It beats having to trudge all the way back to the house to scrounge something up. And most of their food is apple-based anyway, so what the hoo-hah.

                                            >Speaking of their house, you can still see it from here. Off in the distance, buried behind trees.

                                            >For the trillionth time since you've come here, you wonder if you somehow wandered into a Norman Rockwell painting. How could such a place exist?

                                            >Looking at your cart, you realize that you've yet again filled it to capacity.

                                            >Well, lunch back at the homestead sounds like a plan.

                                            >Tossing the Granny Smiths into the baskets with their fellow apples, you bend at the knees, grabbing the handles of the cart and lifting them up.

                                            >Your body groans in protest, but you just grunt; you've been working so long that you've got an exercise rush.

                                            >You begin to jog back to the homestead, your cart in tow, sweat rolling down your nude upper body.

                                            >Unaware of a pair of green eyes watching you the whole time.

                                            >A pair of green eyes watching from a second-story window, the elevation giving her a great view of her orchard as you run through it, back to her home.

                                            >A pair of green eyes with which you shall soon become quite intimately acquainted.


                                            >You've never been one for sloppy eating. You had manners.

                                            >But Jesus Non-existent Christ, these Granny Smiths are good.

                                            >Sitting on the porch of the Apple Family's house, taking in the beauty of midday, your shirt laying across your knee, you're chomping down on your...fifth? Sixth? Another Granny Smith apple, at any rate.

                                            >You've got apple pulp running down the sides of your face, juices running down your chin and across your throat.

                                            >You wish you had a fuck to give, but alas, life has not granted you that many f--

                                            "Hey!"

                                            >You sit bolt upright as you hear a feminine voice cry out.

                                            >You look left.

                                            >You look right.

                                            >Nothing.

                                            >Jeez. Maybe you were out in the heat for too long. Might have fried your brain.

                                            "Up HERE, sharp stuff."

                                            >Like an idiot, you look straight up, getting a face full of the overhang of the porch.

                                            >Sighing at your own retardation, you get up and walk out from under the porch, raising a hand up to shield your eyes as you stare up at the row of second-story windows above the porch.

                                            >Leaning out an open window is the orange-coated, sandy-blonde-haired mare herself, Applejack.

                                            >She grins and waves a hoof at you.

                                            "Howdy, Anon!"

                                            >You wave back, a smile lighting up your face.

                                            >You didn't really know how much you missed seeing her until right now.

                                            >You also didn't really know what it meant to be 'in season' until you saw her.

                                            >Even standing about ten feet away from her, not including the distance from the ground, you can tell there's something fundamentally different about her.

                                            >Leaning out her window, she's smiling, showing off those pearly white teeth.

                                            >Her cheeks flushed, visible even from this distance. Green eyes locked on you, like the tracking algorithms of a smart missile.

                                            >Her mane is down, as well. Flowing over her face and down her back, giving her a wild and untamed look.

                                            >Her entire body moves as she breathes; she's almost panting, like she'd just finished an entire day of applebucking.

                                            >She lowers her eyelids to half-mast, pressing her cheek into one of her hooves.

                                            "You aimin' fer an indecent exposure ticket there, stud?"

                                            >...wait, what?

                                            >You look down at yourself, shirtless and sweaty.

                                            >Suddenly you feel EXTREMELY exposed. And like an idiot, you left your shirt on the porch.

                                            >Applejack laughs throatily at your obvious discomfort, raising an eyebrow as she continues to tease you.

                                            "Don't be ashamed now, Anon. You got muscle, might as well show it off, huh?"

                                            >Jeez, you've never seen AJ act like this. She's usually so laid-back and reserved. Flirting was a skill you thought beyond her.

                                            >Desperately, you try to change the subject.

                                            "So, how are you doing, Applejack?"

                                            >She sighs and drapes herself over the window sill, laying her head down against her arms. Her mane flows over her face, covering one of her eyes.

                                            "Uuuuuuuuuuuugh. I'm so bored, I can't properly describe it. I've read almost every book I own, I've listened to my records over and over and over again. And I've still got a couple more days of this."

                                            >The pain of the situation is palpable in her voice, even though it's still throaty and husky.

                                            >You switch from embarrassed to concerned in a nanosecond, your natural need to help others overcoming the mild teasing you've just received.

                                            >Instantly Applejack perks up, pulling herself up and putting on a wide, almost manic, grin.

                                            "Come up here and keep me company, Anon! It'd be so nice t'have somepo...someone to chat with for a while."

                                            >DANGER WILL ROBINSON! DANGER! DANGER!

                                            >You try to find a way out, worried that being alone with Applejack might seem inappropriate.

                                            "Can't your friends come visit you, Applejack? They're all mares, after all."

                                            >She sighs deeply, rolling her eyes.

                                            "Uuuugh. Of course not, Anon."

                                            >Confused Anon is confused.

                                            >Applejack notices your confusion and continues.

                                            "Mah season can drive stallions crazy, but it can also drive other mares into their seasons. Last thing we need is the entire Elements of Harmony walkin' around drivin' the stallions of Ponyville to madness."


                                            "'Sides, you're one of my friends. Ain't'cha?"

                                            >Oh goddammit that smile.

                                            >Applejack! You're killing me here!

                                            >Damn you and your capacity for empathy. You shrug and offer a genial smile.

                                            "Well...I guess I can come up and chat for a whi--"

                                            "YEEHA! All right!"

                                            >She's almost bouncing up and down in excitement, grinning from ear to ear. You have to admit, seeing Applejack this

                                            excited to talk to you is giving you butterflies in your stomach.

                                            >And other feelings further south.

                                            "Anon, what the hay are you doin'?"

                                            "I'm coming up to see you?"

                                            >Applejack facehoofs, looking down at you midway between your old position and the porch.

                                            "Not through the house, ya idjit. Granny Smith's down there, and she ain't gonna let you up t'see me. Here, climb the trellis."

                                            >You look at the vine trellis attached to the porch.

                                            >Suddenly you're reminded of your role in a school production of Romeo & Juliet. Hopefully this story will have a happier ending.

                                            >Well, you said you'd come up and see her. Grabbing your shirt and stuffing it in your back pocket, you grip the sturdy wood of the trellis and haul your way up.

                                            >The porch overhang squeaks under you, but it hardly shifts as you crawl across it.

                                            >Applejack is leaning out of her window, grinning that manic ear-to-ear grin, staring at you with those beautiful green eyes of hers.

                                            "Oh no! A handsome stranger's comin' tah steal me away and ravish me in the night!"

                                            >GodDAMMIT Applejack!

                                            >She laughs huskily, reaching out to touch your shoulder with a hoof as you come near.

                                            "Awwww, don't be so bashful, Anon! I'm jus' teasin'! C'mon in, I'll put on some Nat King Colt."

                                            >Amazing. As different as they are, Applejack and Rarity have nearly the same taste in music.

                                            >Sliding through the window and shutting it behind you, you're greeted with a room that looks like an atom bomb was set off inside it.

                                            >Applejack's room is simply furnished, with a bed, a bookshelf, a desk with a record player, and few paintings hung up across the wooden walls.

                                            >Her bed is a wreck, sheets tossed around, pillow hanging half-on, half off the mattress. Books are stacked precariously high on her desk, as well as laying on the floor at the end of her bed.

                                            >Records are stacked next to her record player, one of which she's gingerly sliding from its case using her teeth.

                                            >You notice a big sheet of cloth has been stuffed underneath her doorway, presumably to keep her scent from escaping.

                                            >From where you're sitting, you can see her posterior, tail raised up showing off the entirety of those firm, round flanks.

                                            >Your eyes merely glanced over to them, but now that they've captured your attention, you find you can't look away.

                                            >It's not simply because of the soft-looking fur or the way her flanks flex and relax as she moves, getting that record out and moving to replace the one already on the record player.

                                            >It's also because of the swollen, oozing pussy between her hind legs.


                                            >Pony genitalia had always confused you. When you first got to Equestria, you thought they really didn't have any.

                                            >f you had really bothered to look before now, you think, you might have seen a simple slit between her back legs.

                                            >Because of her season, you deduce, it has become quite more pronounced. Her labia have swollen up, growing a dark red underneath her orange fur; inner lips are equally engorged, glistening with her juices. Even from this far away, you can see her clit, plump and pushed out from its hood.

                                            >Her entire pussy suddenly winks open at you and then clenches, a small line of her glistening fluid flowing from her entrance and falling down to the wooden floor.

                                            >Your heart jumps as the record scratches, the simple horn speaker beginning to pump out the smooth sounds of Nat King Colt.

                                            >http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iq0XJCJ1Srw

                                            >Standing from the window sill, you grab your shirt and begin to put it back on.

                                            >Slipping it over your head, you emerge from the neckline of your shirt to find Applejack standing right in front of you.

                                            "Ya like it?"

                                            "I, um..."

                                            "The music, Anon! Do ya like the music?"

                                            "Oh! Yeah. That's really nice. You know, back where I come from, he--"

                                            "Yeeha! I knew you'd like it! C'mere, lemme show you somethin' else!"

                                            >'Somethin' else' is definitely the correct word. Applejack in her season is...hyper.

                                            >Not Pinkie Pie levels of hyper (again you're struck with the horror of what HER season must be like), but hyper for that easy-going country mare you've come to know.

                                            >You follow as she directs, being shown the kinds of books she likes, the other kinds of music she listens to, all while trying to keep your eyes focused on the task at hand.

                                            >The task at hand being not to look at that round, firm posterior and the oozing sex between her rear legs.

                                            >You are a man, however. A man who has been without female company for nigh on a year, stuck in a world filled with quite feminine yet completely inaccessible ponies.

                                            >Despite yourself, you glance over her every now and then.

                                            >You know all of the Elements of Harmony personally; it was hard not to, since they'd been given charge of you since you first arrived.

                                            >You like them all well enough. Rarity and Twilight have become your best friends, along with Applejack.

                                            >Sometimes, though, when the loneliness and the isolation becomes too hard to bear, your thoughts will turn to Applejack.

                                            >Her easy drawl, those deep green eyes; her refreshing honesty, her inability to put up with any other pony's bullshit.

                                            >Now you're standing next to her as she flips through her record collection, so happy to have someone to talk to, oblivious to your wandering eyes.

                                            >Her fur-coated flesh moves across the hardy musculature of her flanks, a sense of strength and a redoubtable nature exuding from Applejack as heady as her heat-scent.

                                            >You admire the exotic nature of that scent as it tingles against your senses, making the hairs across your body stand on end.

                                            "Anon."

                                            >DANGER!


                                            >You jerk out of your reverie, eyes moving to face Applejack.

                                            >She's looking back at you, her eyes half-lidded, a small smirk on her face.

                                            "Admiring the view there, partner?"

                                            >You have never been so stone-cold busted in your entire life.

                                            >You open your mouth to speak, but instead let out an almost comical squawk.

                                            >She laughs, that same slow, easy laugh now tinged with an edge of sensual mirth.

                                            "Ahehehehehehe...don't be ashamed. I'd admire me, too."

                                            >She turns her posterior closer to you, arching her back to more prominently display her glorious assets.

                                            >Her flanks stretch and flex, her cutie mark rippling across the thick muscles underneath.

                                            "Years'a applebuckin' and exercisin'; I know exactly how stacked I am, Anon."

                                            >Sweet Celestia, have mercy upon we undeserving mortals.

                                            >You back up a step, the view of her incredible flank too much for you to bear this close.

                                            "C'mon, Anon. Don't be like that. I'm not mad. In fact, I'm kinda flattered, heh. Never seen you admirin' any of mah friends."

                                            >Finally you find your voice, though it cracks as you speak.

                                            "Applejack, please...you're not thinking straight here."

                                            >She laughs again, turning around and slowly walking towards you.

                                            "Not thinkin' straight? How would you know what I'm thinkin' anyway, sugarcube?"

                                            >She narrows her eyes, her smile widening and taking on an almost evil note.

                                            "Or...is it that you hope I'm thinkin' about somethin' in particular, hmm? Ya gotta be pretty lonely 'round here. Been here almost a whole year, no other humans. I know I'd be lonely if'n I were the only pony back where you came from."

                                            >How in Equestria could any person, or any pony, see through you so well?

                                            >Those green eyes are almost boring twin holes into you as you back away from her, finally running up against her bed. In your slowly-building panic, you lose your footing and fall back to sit down on the soft springs. The bed creaks underneath you.

                                            >Applejack is frighteningly quick to take advantage of the situation, rearing up on her hind legs and planting her front hooves on your legs.

                                            >She's less than a foot away from you. Her entire face is flushed, her eyes wide and dilated. As always, her entire body moves with the intensity of her breathing.

                                            >Her warm breath spreads over your face, bathing you in her almost intoxicating scent.

                                            "Anon, you know I don't lie easily. So, you need to believe me when I say this..."

                                            >She bites down on her bottom lip.

                                            "I can help you...you can help me. We're friends, right? And that's what friends do: they help each other."

                                            >The need in her eyes is almost painful to see. Her breathing intensifies as she grows closer.

                                            "Applejack, I'm a human, you're a pony. It's just not ri--"

                                            "It hurts, Anon. Please, you can help me. You can make it stop..."


                                            >You can almost feel your own heart beginning to ache as her face melts.

                                            >She doesn't look desperate, not like she'd fuck anything that moved. The pain comes through her face, though.

                                            >Suddenly you realize just how well she had been holding it together the whole time.

                                            >Her entire body is shivering, her green eyes glistening.

                                            "Hurts?"

                                            >She gulps and nods, before pulling herself up to sit in your lap.

                                            >You're too concerned with the fact that she might be in pain to stop her.

                                            "Mmhmm. I...I need to mate. My body is just hankerin' for it, but 'cuz I can't get pregnant, I'm not goin' outside so some stallion can have his way with me..."

                                            >She's breathing harder now at the mention of stallions and having their way with her.

                                            >Gingerly, you reach up and press your hands to her hips, lifting to move her aside.

                                            >She grips you tight, unwilling to be too far from you.

                                            "No...please, it feels nice, bein' close to you."

                                            >The begging tone to her voice, how she shivers and leans into your touch; they work together to stop you from pushing her completely away.

                                            >Instead, you gently set her down next to you, turning slightly to better face her. She continues to talk, looking up at you from behind the frazzled halo of her sandy-blonde mane.

                                            "Keepin' mahself from ruttin' with a stallion...oh Celestia, it burns, Anon. I've been tryin' to take care of it myself, but it don't work. Mah body knows what it needs, and what it needs is getting rutted."

                                            >She looks up at you, her eyes half-lidded again, a hopeful smile spreading across her face.

                                            "Or maybe jus' paid attention to..."

                                            >You notice that she's not exactly sitting down on the bed. She's crouched down, but she's being careful not to get her swollen pussy too close to the rumpled mess of her bedsheets.

                                            >She's in distress, and she's reaching out to you for help.

                                            >Sure, it's mostly because you're possibly one of the few males she knows who won't knock her up.

                                            >But she's still staring up at you with those big green eyes...

                                            "All right, Applejack. I'll help you. As a friend. We just can't...I'll help you as much as I can without actually..."

                                            >She grins widely, launching herself at you and wrapping her forearms around your neck.

                                            "Thank ya, Anon!"

                                            >Before you can react, she plants a crushing kiss on your lips.

                                            >You stiffen in her arms, the suddenness of the intimate touch making your joints lock and your muscles tighten.

                                            >The taste of her lips loosens you considerably.

                                            >She tastes absolutely divine. Not of apples, nothing so trite.

                                            >It's a taste so unique that to try to describe it here would do an insult to its complexity.

                                            >You breath out a small moan, eyes fluttering closed as you feel her weight press against you.

                                            >Any resistance to this idea you had before is now melting into that kiss.

                                            >To think that you even resisted at all...


                                            >She pushes herself closer, tightening her forearms to draw you in.

                                            >Tilting her head, she gets a better angle, your lips opening as her tongue tentatively searches for yours.

                                            >Running on instinct, you offer your tongue to her, letting those warm, soft muscles play as you reach down to explore her body.

                                            >You're going to enjoy this while it lasts, moving your hands down to come to grips with her firm rear end.

                                            >She gasps into the kiss as you sink your fingers into that tightly-coiled musculature. You moan in return.

                                            >The feel of her flanks underneath your palms awakens a need deep within you.

                                            >The flesh immediately surrounding her cutie mark is soft and pliable.

                                            >You dig your fingers into that giving skin.

                                            >Applejack archs her back with a girlish yelp, disconnecting from that kiss.

                                            >You feel her rear end pushing against your hands. Applejack's eyes are mere slits now, her mouth agape, panting lustfully as she rolls her hips into your touch.

                                            "Yes..."

                                            >Taking the initiative, you lift her up and push her down onto the bed.

                                            >She doesn't object, standing on all fours and looking back at you, head tilted down, staring up at you through that messy mane.

                                            >You turn, curling your knees up under yourself. Reaching out, you press a hand to her shoulders, pushing down.

                                            >Wordlessly she complies, letting out a long, slow sigh as she presses her front half down onto the bed.

                                            >Her body re-aligns itself with her motions, pushing her flanks up into the air as well as bringing her dripping pussy nearly level with your face.

                                            >Things are happening so fast, and yet you feel as if you're moving with a aching slowness- as if you're at the bottom of the sea, under the crush of thousands of tons of water.

                                            >Realigning yourself, onto your knees, your face is mere inches from Applejack's oozing marehood.

                                            >Reaching up, you plant your hands on her flanks, gripping tightly.

                                            >Applejack quakes underneath your hands, breathing out a passionate sigh.

                                            >So close to her cunt, your face flushes as the heat washes over you.

                                            "Please...Anon...s-stop teasin'..."

                                            >Her voice cracking so cutely. You dig your fingers into her flanks, eliciting another hot, husky cry.

                                            >Now that you have her in your hands, you simply cannot get enough of those round, firm cheeks. Feeling them pull taut and then relax underneath your touch. The smooth, warm quality of her fur feels like silk against your fingertips.

                                            >The flesh underneath her cutie mark is the softest of all, pliant under your touch.

                                            >You're entranced by the the complexity and beauty of her rear end, for a few moments forgetting your primary purpose as you explore.

                                            >Leaning in closer, you bring your teeth down against her cutie mark, grazing them across one of her apples.

                                            "Aaah!"

                                            >You can feel the muscle underneath tensing, her legs shifting as she squirms underneath your teeth.

                                            >You keep 'eating', dragging your teeth against the apples of her cutie mark.

                                            >Applejack is beside herself. She wriggles against you, pressing her flank against your mouth, panting long and thick.

                                            "Aaaaaaaaahhh...aahhh...Anon...oh Celestia..."

                                            >Finally you decide that she's had enough. Also, if you don't stop now, you might never get to the main attraction.

                                            >With no small amount of regret, you pull away from her magnificent flanks, once again greeted by the sight of her engorged marehood.

                                            >As before, it winks at you and then clenches tight. Applejack moans, her entire body shivering and the thick, coarse fur around her shoulders standing on end.

                                            >Without preamble, you sink your face between her legs and get to work.


                                            >You consider yourself a connoisseur of good tastes. Despite your skinny nature, you love food. Sweet food, rich

                                            food, salty food. Any kind of food, even fruits and vegetables despite your admittedly carnivorous nature back home.

                                            >The taste of Applejack's marehood straddles a fine line between deliciously salty and tantalizingly sweet.

                                            >And there is quite a lot of that taste to go around.

                                            >Your face pressed tightly between her rippling flanks, hands holding her hips steady, your fed a steady supply of her rich, delicious juices as you dig your tongue in between the folds of her engorged pussy lips.

                                            >Applejack is making the bed creak and shake underneath you.

                                            "Aaaaaaaaaaaaahh! Anon! Yess....uuunnnnghhhh, dig yer tongue in...jus' like that..."

                                            >Like you have a choice.

                                            >Her pussy is something else entirely. Every time you slide your tongue across her lips, you can feel her folds clench tight around you and try to pull you in closer.

                                            >Any closer to that orange mare and you would probably have to give up breathing.

                                            >Not that you care about the lack of oxygen at this point, but if you stopped breathing through your nose, you'd have to give up her scent.

                                            >This close, your nose pressed into that soft, fleshy spot between her convulsing marehood and her tight puckered hole, the earthy scent that is Applejack is flooding your senses.

                                            >You're not at all able to be affected by her heat scent. The fact that you're eating out Applejack, however, is driving you mad.

                                            >Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that this could actually occur. That the strong, independent Applejack would allow you, the skinny little nerd, the honor of burying his face between her flanks to explore her most intimate area.

                                            >You dig your fingers into her cutie mark, dragging your fingernails across her furred flesh. Her cunt ripples across your tongue, another long moan rolling from her lips.

                                            >She pushes herself against your hands, like a cat being pet. In reaction, you pull one of your hands back and bring it back down in a hard SLAP.

                                            "Aaaaah!"

                                            >She archs her back, pushing herself up onto all fours again. Her tail flicks up into the air, the tip almost cracking like a whip at the surprise of your spank.

                                            >She looks back at you, her nostrils flaring, letting out a low whinny.

                                            "Anon..."

                                            >Oh shit. You pull away from her pussy, a thick line of her juices mixed with your saliva connecting your lips to her nether regions.

                                            "Listen t'me closely, Anon..."

                                            >You brace yourself.

                                            "The next time ya do that, ya better do it like ya mean it, understand? I don't want no pullin' yer bucks around me."

                                            >Everything went better than expected. You grin saucily, flattening your palms against her flank.

                                            >Reaching back, you lay into one of her cutie marks, putting your shoulders into the swing.

                                            >Her entire flank ripples at the harsh contact, a whip-lick CRACK of flesh-on-flesh ringing out through her bedroom.

                                            >She pushed her ass into that touch, that firm look on her face melting into one of relief and pleasure.

                                            "Aaaaahhhhh yeah...again!"

                                            >CRACK!!

                                            "Again!"

                                            >CRACK!

                                            >She falls down onto her front as before, pressing one of her flushed cheeks into the rumpled sheets of her bed.

                                            >You give her another harsh spank, delighting in how the skin underneath her cutie mark has begun to turn a light shade of pink, before diving back into her oozing honeypot.


                                            "Anon...nnnngggff...please....aahhh...st-stop."

                                            >Your jaw muscles are beginning to tighten up and your tongue feels a bit numb from how long you've been sliding it between Applejack's swollen pussy lips.

                                            >You almost don't hear her when she begins to speak between panting gasps and low moans.

                                            "Anon...nnn...stop...th-this isn't workin'...aahhhh..."

                                            >Finally her words begin to eat through your sex-addled haze and you pull back. Your face is a mess of hot, slick, sweet Applejack juices, sliding down to drip off your chin.

                                            "Not working? You mean you haven't..."

                                            >She's panting heavily, turning her head to look at you, her flanks still raised high into the air.

                                            "N-No...not once...s'not your fault, sugarcube. Yer really good at eatin' me out...b-but ah think mah body needs something inside it t'get me off..."

                                            >You sit back on your knees, your own slow, deep breathing beginning to return to normal.

                                            >Something inside her, huh? Makes a bit of sense. It's her season and her body needs to be fucked by a stallion.

                                            >She needs something hot and thick inside her.

                                            >Coming out of your Applejack-plot-induced fugue state, you notice something hot, thick, and ready to go between your legs.

                                            >Your pants are horribly tented, your cock aching to be released and set loose on the eager Earth pony.

                                            >Your mind, however, still stubbornly refuses to allow you such bliss.

                                            >She's a PONY! You're a HUMAN! And you're helping her out only as a friend.

                                            >Because you're a human, Anon, you've got one advantage that no other friend could have.

                                            >You hold one of your hands up in front of you, staring at your fingers.

                                            >Long, thin pianist's fingers. It's part of the reason why you love messing with electronics so: you're quite dexterous.

                                            >Staring past your fingers, you see her pussy clenching and winking rapidly.

                                            >She begins to get up, your window of opportunity closing rapidly.

                                            "Anon, I think ya need ta--"

                                            >She can't get out any more, as you grab tight to one of her glorious flanks and thrust two of your fingers deep inside her.

                                            >Well, 'thrust' is probably the wrong word to use. It's more like you press the tips of your fingers to her cunt and that hungry orifice SUCKS them the rest of the way inside.

                                            >Applejack is halfway through another syllable, but as soon as your fingers slide into her, that syllable draws out into a long, low moan.

                                            "Ggggggggggggooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa....."

                                            >Her entire form melts into the bed before you, hips turning to push her flanks up toward you.

                                            >Once again she's putty in your hands, whimpering and groaning as you pull your hand back and let her pussy suck it back in.

                                            >Bringing your other hand up, you press two fingers to either side of her throbbing, swollen clit. You know much better than to touch that bombshell of nerve endings directly; you might make the poor mare faint.

                                            >Rubbing your fingers in slow little circles, you indirectly stimulate her ultra-sensitive clit, even as you add another finger to her pussy.

                                            >She shivers and grunts, pushing herself back against your hand as you ramp up the speed.

                                            "Yesss....faster! Harder! Unnnnnnnnnnggghhh, s-so close..."

                                            >Sliding your tongue out, you lick your lips, her taste once again filling your mouth.

                                            >The muscles of your arm are outlined against your skin, flexed tight as you slam your fingers into her convulsing sex, closing your fingers around her clit.

                                            >She seems so close, rolling her hips back into your hand, biting down against her bed's coverings. Her back legs are stretched out, pushing her flanks into the air, the thick, corded muscles of those applebucking dynamos pulled taut

                                            as she struggles to use your fingers to release that horrible pressure.

                                            >You can feel her pussy gripping you tightly, her entire body shivering against you.

                                            >Applejack in season should be practically crushing your fingers with her orgasm, but no matter what you do to her, it just doesn't seem to come.

                                            >She needs your cock. Only that throbbing organ between your legs can satisfy her.

                                            >All you're doing is bringing her to the very edge of that final release and leaving her there.

                                            >It's practically torture.

                                            >And what kind of friend are you, torturing her like this simply because of a taboo carried over from a world you're quite likely to never see again?


                                            >With a slick POP~!, you pull your fingers out of her.

                                            >Bringing them to your lips, you eagerly suckle the juices off as you get up off your knees and scoot up behind her.

                                            >Applejack is lost for a moment, her eyes glazed over, her mouth open and slack, a small line of drool staining the bed.

                                            >Finally, she regains her senses.

                                            "Anon, I'm s-sorry. I sh-shouldn't have called you up here. I shouldn't have expected you to--"

                                            >Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzip.

                                            "Anon?"

                                            >Your cock flops out from your now-undone pants, pressing hotly between her supple flanks.

                                            >She cries out in shock, trying to rise from her prone position.

                                            "Anon! No! Ya don't hafta! I--"

                                            >You reach down and grab the base of her tail with one hand, sliding your other to press against her shoulders.

                                            >So like Applejack, to think of others even now. She's so close to having what she needs, and she still respects your words from before.

                                            "Yes, Applejack. I do. Because otherwise you're going to go crazy. And what kind of friend would I be if I let that happen?"

                                            >You pull your hips back.

                                            >She's back up on all fours now.

                                            "Anon! Wa--"

                                            >Throwing your entire weight behind it, you thrust yourself forward.

                                            >Your cock spears her pussy, sliding easily into her to the hilt.

                                            >The HEAT! A roaring furnace of marehood envelops your cock, that sultry, torrid feeling crawling its way from your aching, throbbing member to cocoon your entire body in its humid grip.

                                            "AAAHH!"

                                            >Applejack's cry makes you wince.

                                            >She stiffens completely, up on the tips of her hooves, head jerking back so quickly that her trademark hat flies off to strike your chest before flopping down onto the bed and rolling away onto the floor.

                                            >Every muscle in her body tightens, her tail shooting straight up to strike you in the face.

                                            >She stays in that position for less than a second, and yet the moment stretches out into an eternity.

                                            >The moment holds...and then she almost literally melts into the bed.

                                            "Aaaoooahahahahahaaaa...ahhhahaaaaa....aaaaaaaaaaaaaa...."

                                            >Turning her head to the side as she presses her cheek down into the bed, her entire face has been taken over by the biggest, dopiest grin you've ever seen.

                                            >Her emerald eyes have nearly rolled up into her head, tears forming and falling down her cheeks.

                                            >And dear god, her tongue is almost hanging out!

                                            >Her pussy clamps down around you, and you cry out.

                                            >Jesus fuck, she's strong! You could swear if she pulled any tighter, she'd be taking your cock off.

                                            >However, you can't sit around and enjoy the indescribable pleasure of being inside Applejack.

                                            >No, you're a man with a mission: getting Applejack off, no matter what it takes.

                                            >Moving your hand from the base of her tail, you reach down and slip your fingers around the front of her thighs, where the stifle meets the hip.

                                            >Your palms rest against her cutie marks, and you squeeze tightly, pressing down against that soft, yielding flesh.

                                            >She twitches underneath you, giving off something throaty and unintelligible.

                                            >With a grunt, you force your hips back.

                                            >Her marehood won't release you without a fight, the tightness and suction setting every muscle in your body aflame with pleasure.

                                            >Finally you're nearly out of her. With a deep, animal grunt, you thrust back inside as hard and as deep as you can.

                                            >Combined with the intense grip Applejack's pussy exerts on your dick, your harsh thrust brings her back legs off the bed for a split second before she settles back down.

                                            >Applejack is beyond words at this point.

                                            >She lays against the bed, that same wide dopy grin spread across her face.

                                            "Unnh! Nnnnnnnhhhu! M...mmmmmmmmmuuh!"

                                            >You're just about to that point as well.

                                            >As you thrust into her, again and again, her pussy is doing things to your cock you never thought you'd experience.

                                            >Rippling across your shaft, tightening across the head, loosening slightly before clamping down like a vice.

                                            >You're panting thickly, your only vocalizations being heavy grunts to punctuate every hot, wet SLAP of flesh-on-furred-flesh.

                                            >Not thirty seconds into this hot, bestial fucking can you feel Applejack's pussy begin to spasm around your cock.

                                            >Oh jesus fuck, you're beginning to see spots!


                                            >Your nostrils flare, your entire body feeling like a nerve ending being pulled taut.

                                            >Keep it together, Anon. Ride this out. For her. For Applejack.

                                            >CRACK!

                                            "Aaaaaaaaaahhh! Yes! Yes!"

                                            >That spank to her ass sends Applejack crashing over the edge.

                                            >Her entire body bucks, sending her front end up and off the bed. She archs her back and tosses her head, her mane flowing back to tickle across your face.

                                            "Fuck me fuck me fuck me FUCK ME FUCK ME!"

                                            >Having found her voice again, Applejack turns out to be incredibly mouthy in the sack.

                                            >Not that you mind. Hearing such dirty and raunchy talk coming in that drawl sets your passions aflame like nothing else you've experienced.

                                            >Her head jerking back, mane flying in your face, you reach out in the heat of the moment and slide your fingers through that sandy-blond mess.

                                            >Gripping tightly, you pull back.

                                            >She gasps at that show of force, turning her head slightly to look at you.

                                            "Unnnnnnnnnnnngggh...yeaaahhh...show me ya know how ta treat a mare, Anon!"

                                            >Leaning over her, you press a kiss to her lips, digging your fingers deeper into her mane as you rut that rugged farm mare for all she's worth.

                                            >Like a switch being flipped, ll thought that this is simply for her benefit has left.

                                            >At this moment, you're not friends or even friends with benefits.

                                            >You're two animals, rutting, mating, fucking like the world is going to end.

                                            >She pushes her tongue against yours, and you respond in kind. That kiss turns passionate and arousingly sloppy, Applejack grunting and bringing her teeth down on your bottom lip.

                                            "Right there...right there...Right theeeeeeeeeerreeeeAAAHH!!!"

                                            >Another harsh orgasm ripples through Applejack's abused cunt, but you don't stop.

                                            >You can't stop. Not now, not ever.

                                            >The pleasure coursing through your body is worlds beyond any human woman you've had before.

                                            "A...Anon...aren'tcha...d-d...aaaaaaaaaaaaahhh..."

                                            >Her own pleasure begins to overwhelm her, and she sinks back down into the bed.

                                            >You follow her, bending over her, hips crashing down against her pinkened flanks. Removing your hand from her mane, you press your fingers down against her cutie mark, dragging your fingernails against that stinging skin.

                                            >She grits her teeth before opening her mouth and letting out a low, long moan.

                                            "C...Celestia...aaahhhh...yer...n-not done...y-yet?"

                                            >In your lust-addled fog, you barely register her words.

                                            >All you can do now is saw in and out of her, your cock throbbing so hard it is flirting with that thin barrier between pleasure and pain.

                                            >Applejack shudders under you, her pussy nearly pushing you out as another hard orgasm slams through her body.

                                            >Once again she's been rendered incoherent, her tongue hanging out, that big grin returning.

                                            >Eyes glazed over, she just gazes ahead, turning her willing flanks up to you and taking that intense fucking you're giving her.

                                            >Finally, though, the passion of the moment becomes too much for you.

                                            >You can feel the tingle growing at the base of your balls, spreading out to the whole of your midsection.

                                            >CRACK!

                                            "AAAAAAAAAhhhnrnn...nnnnrrr..."

                                            >The skin underneath Applejack's cutie marks has turned a light red with how much you've spanked them.

                                            >You run your hands over them, eliciting more unintelligible gibberish from the orange mare's lips.

                                            >Finally you sink your fingers into her firm cheeks, feeling your body tense up as your orgasm builds to a fever pitch.

                                            >SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAPSLAPSLAPSLAPSLAP

                                            >Pace quickening to a breakneck speed, small spurts of her juices curling away from her pussy with each harsh, deep thrust.

                                            "Ooooooooooooooooaaaaaaahhrhrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!"

                                            >For a moment you wonder what beast has made that unholy cry.

                                            >Until you realize that it was you, bucking against her and filling her with your hot creamy seed.

                                            >It was true what she said- it has been quite a while since you've felt the touch of another being in such an intimate way.

                                            >Touching yourself simply isn't the same.

                                            >Perhaps that, combined with the sheer, unabashed animal eroticism of the situation is why you quickly overfill that tight marehood, your cum sloshing out to plop down onto the sheets below you.

                                            >Applejack shudders and quivers underneath you, her face pressed into the bed, tongue flopped out to one side as her fourth orgasm in less than two minutes sets her nerve endings aflame.


                                            >Her pussy milks your cock in ways you're sure were never intended by the God you used to believe in.

                                            >Your own orgasm lasts far longer than your ejaculation, your body twitching as the pleasure continued to roll through it.

                                            >Peeling your hands from her flanks, you press them down into the bed on either side of her, slowly using your weight to push yourself down against her.

                                            >Her back legs give out almost without a fight, curling underneath her as you lay down atop her.

                                            "Hhhhub....nnnnn...hhah..."

                                            >You gently kiss up and down the back of her neck, your cock beginning to soften as you slip out of her.

                                            >She leans into that touch, her eyes fluttering closed as you fall off of her and onto your side, just to her right.

                                            >As the intensity of the moment passes, you find yourself having had one of the most intense sexual experiences of your life directly following six hours of hard manual labor.

                                            >In short, you feel as if you've been flattened by a truck.

                                            >Your arm draped over Applejack's prone form, you let your eyes slip closed.

                                            >Tiredness slips over you like several layers of thick, warm blankets.

                                            >Slowly your mind begins to drift away.


                                            "Anon?"

                                            "Mmmm?"

                                            >You open your eyes at the sound of Applejack's voice, seeing that she's rolled onto her side to face you.

                                            >She's nothing but smiles, those beautiful emerald green eyes gazing at you adoringly.

                                            "Anon...I had no idea what kinda stud you were...how in Equestria did you last that long, anyway?"

                                            >Whatever tiredness you had left slips away as that question hits you.

                                            >Slowly, you sit up onto your elbow, looking down at her.

                                            "That long? Applejack, I only lasted about two minutes."

                                            >Applejack snorts, her nostrils flaring, reaching up to run a hoof down your chest.

                                            "Uh-huh. That's what I mean, sugarcube. Any other stud woulda shot hisself off in about ten'r twenty seconds."

                                            "Say what now?"

                                            >She giggles, a surprisingly girlish sound that you'd more expect from Rarity than from her.

                                            "Oh, c'mon Anon. Ya been around us ponies fer a whole year and ya don't know? Stallions can only last about ten'r twenty seconds 'fore they bust."

                                            >Once again your eyebrows are about to reach low orbit.

                                            "Aaaaaaaaahahahahaaa"

                                            >Applejack's bellylaugh makes you grin, and you join her, closing your eyes and laying your head down on your arm.

                                            >The two of you laugh and laugh, laying together in that post-coital glow.

                                            >Finally she scoots a bit closer and leans in, pressing her lips to yours.

                                            >The touch is far more tender than the base, animalistic embraces you've shared previously. Your face flushes, but before long you've slipped your arms around her form and pulled her close, leaning into that sweet kiss.

                                            "Mmmmmmmmmm..."

                                            >She pulls away, looking up at you through the tangled veil of her sandy blonde mane.

                                            "How long ya got 'fore ya gotta get back out there?"

                                            >Shit. You'd completely forgotten about helping Big Mac with the apples today.

                                            >Estimating that encounter took about ten minutes, you decide that a full hour for lunch isn't asking too much.

                                            "About fifty more minutes, give or take."

                                            >Applejack grins and leans in close, pressing her muzzle up against your nose.

                                            "That's the best news I've heard all day, stud. We're gonna put you through yer paces today."

                                            >Ohshit.jpeg.

                                            >What a fool you were, to think that an Applejack in season would be satisfied by one little roll in the hay.

                                            "Um...I hate to break it to you, Applejack, but one of the things about being a human male is that we have this thing called a refractory period. It's when--"

                                            >Suddenly a hoof is pressed to your lips. Applejack leans in close and whispers hotly in your ear.

                                            "Shush. I know what it is, stud. But yer not gonna have one. Not in mah bedroom, and not on mah watch."

                                            >She removes her hoof from your lips and shifts around on the bed.

                                            "B-But how, I--"

                                            >Applejack is too fast for you though, swinging her rear end around to face you. >She turns her head around and smirks at you.

                                            "All that attention you were given' to mah cutie mark an' rear end, Anon; I think I can figure out a way to get you up and runnin' again."

                                            >With that, she raises one of her rear legs and straddles your face.

                                            >Oh Celestia, she's not going to--

                                            >She is!

                                            >Without any warning, Applejack plops her firm, round flanks down onto your face.

                                            >Her earthy smell once again envelops your senses, and for a few moments you forget the complex algorithms that are required for breathing.

                                            >Finally you let out a long, slow moan, slipping your tongue out to press against that warm spot between her pussy and her tight puckered hole.

                                            "Unnnnnnnnnnngggh, there we go, Anon. I knew ya'd get the hang've it."

                                            >She begins to grind her hips back and forth, rubbing those flanks across your face.

                                            >Raising your hands, you grip her cutie marks tightly, closing your eyes and bathing yourself in that scent that is so uniquely Applejack.

                                            >she grins, leaning back and turning her head to look down at you.

                                            "Ooooooooooooohhh, my my. A mare could get used to this kind of treatment."

                                            >You mumble a response, too engrossed in worshipping that glorious rear end to form any kind of coherent sentence.

                                            >Your cock, still slick with a mixture of your juices, begins to rise between your legs.

                                            >Applejack takes notice, leaning foreword to place her hooves on your legs, her green eyes locked on that rising member.

                                            "MMmmmmmmmmmmm...love the way this looks. So different from a stallion's..."


                                            >She's still grinding herself down against you, even as she admires your junk.

                                            >Reaching out, she pressed the soft pads of her hooves against it, rubbing them up and down slowly.

                                            >You groan into her flanks, grazing your fingers across her still-pink cutie mark flesh. She gasps and presses down hard against your face.

                                            "Aaaaaaaaahhh...Anon, ya know how to get me goin'. Mah cutie mark..."

                                            >Her sentence trails off, as suddenly she sits up and swings herself off you.

                                            >You whimper as that sweet flank is suddenly denied to you, only to have yet another deep, crushing kiss pressed to your lips.

                                            "Mmmmmmmmmmmm..."

                                            >She drapes herself across your body, the heat of her cunt radiating across your cock as she presses herself close to you.

                                            >Pulling from the kiss, she looks down into your eyes.

                                            "Anon, I wanna know you. I wanna know all about you. Nobody else woulda done fer me what you did jus' cuz I asked. Especially if'n they were not to sure about in the first place."

                                            >You open your mouth to respond, but she presses a hoof to your lips again.

                                            "That's why we're gonna play 'The Truth Game'."

                                            >She pulls back suddenly, sitting back on her haunches. In her new position, your cock is now nestled snugly between her asscheeks. Quite a comfortable place, you realize.

                                            "How do we play the--"

                                            >Again, she's far too fast for you. In one smooth motion, she lifts herself up.

                                            >With a low grunt, she thrusts herself down and impales her pussy around your cock.

                                            "Aah! aaahh! aaah!"

                                            >In mere moments, Applejack is bouncing up and down on top of you, the bed creaking noisily underneath.

                                            >Reaching up, you press your hands to her sides. Not to control her, but simply to have even more contact with that orange goddess of a mare.

                                            >She whips her head back, jaw slack. Her sandy-blonde mane moves with her, waving almost angelically around her face.

                                            "Yeeeehha!"

                                            >Oh jesus!

                                            >She sends her hips into overdrive, riding you like her own personal breeding stud.

                                            >Up and down, up and down, her powerful bucking legs and that taut pussy working in tandem.

                                            >You've had sex multiple times in a row before. Usually the second time, you can last twice or even three times as long.

                                            >This is so far beyond anything you've ever had, though.

                                            >Seeing Applejack, that hard-working farmpony, bouncing up and down on your cock, a hoof raised to the side of her face, her mouth slack in a perfect O of pleasure.

                                            >It's not long before you're pressing up against her, adding your own guttural moans to the cacophony of erotic sounds filling her small, simply-furnished room.

                                            "AJ...AJ...fuck!"

                                            "Aah! Aaahhh! Ya like that? Ya like bein' ridden hard, sugarcube?"

                                            "Nnnnnnnnnngggh, yes! Oooooooooohh. I'm...I'm gonna..."


                                            >This goddess, this beautiful mare is going to make you cum a second time, almost as fast as you came before.

                                            >But as suddenly as that torrid affair began, it ends.

                                            >So suddenly that for a few moments, you're simply laying there, staring up at her. She's breathing hard, looking down at you, her mane framing her face and giving her the look of some beautiful bar singer.

                                            "Now...The Truth Game...I'm gonna ask you a question, Anon."

                                            >She raises up and then slams down again, pulling another moan from your lips.

                                            "Feel that? You tell the truth, and you get some more of that. You lie, and you get nothin'. Understood?"

                                            >You nod eagerly, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

                                            >She reaches down to press a hoof against your chest, leaning down to whisper into your ear.

                                            "I'm the Element of Honesty. I'm gonna know if you lie, Anon. So you better be truthful. For your sake."

                                            >She bites down on your earlobe, making you whimper and shift under her.

                                            "Ahehehehehehe. Cuz I don't like liars. Liars don't deserve to cum."

                                            >She pulls back, pressing both of her hooves against your chest, bent over you as sh begins to ask you those questions.

                                            >For a while, it's simply standard questions: favorite color, favorite food, favorite book.

                                            >All rewarded with a swift rise and a hard fall of her hips.

                                            >Soon, though, the questions take a turn for the intimate...

                                            "When did you lose yer virginity?"

                                            "Wh-When I was 17."

                                            >She rises up and slams back down.

                                            "How many times 'fore me?"

                                            "T-Twice..."

                                            >Rising, falling. She leans down and pulls you into a deep kiss, suckling on your bottom lip before she pulls back and continues.

                                            "Ya ever think about me 'fore this time together?"

                                            "Yes."

                                            >Up and down, smooth as clockwork

                                            >Slowly she's building back that pressure back up.

                                            >Somehow it makes it even more unbearable, having to wait between every up-and-down stroke.

                                            "Intimately?"

                                            "Yes!"

                                            >Up and down. She chuckles, watching your face intensely. Those emeralds eyes dancing with pleasure and mischief.

                                            "Any of mah friends?"

                                            "N..."

                                            >She stops, fixing you with a glare that would make Fluttershy proud.

                                            >You wince, caught in the middle of what would be a lie.

                                            "Yes....Yes I have."

                                            >For a moment, it looks as if she's going to make good on her promise to keep you from cumming.

                                            >With aching slowness, she rises up and pushes back down.

                                            "Yer lucky yer so cute when yer this far from cummin', Anon. Who is it?"

                                            "I..."

                                            "C'mon, Anon. I told ya to be honest with me."

                                            >Your face flushes red. You screw your eyes shut under her, your voice a bare squeak.

                                            "...Rarity."

                                            >For a moment, you hear nothing but silence.

                                            >You open your eyes.

                                            >Applejack's face is puckered up, her nose scrunched.

                                            >She bursts out with a deep belly laugh, leaning down to press her forehead against yours.

                                            "RARITY? Ahahahahahahahahhaaaaaa..."

                                            >You chuckle along with her, sliding your hands up her sides and down again, reaching those sweet apple cutie marks and giving her another squeeze.

                                            "Ahahahaaa....I don't really blame ya, Anon. She's quite the lady. Kinda high-maintnance, if'n ya ask me."

                                            >She looks down at you, her gorgeous green eyes misty and unreadable.

                                            >Leaning in close, you share another of her slow, tender kisses.

                                            >Your cock throbs inside her as you wrap your arms around her, holding her close. Feeling her weight atop you, the warmth of her sweet pussy wrapped snugly around your manhood.

                                            >It's more than a mere mortal such as you deserves.

                                            >She pulls back, staring down into your eyes.

                                            "One last question, Anon."

                                            >You nod, prepared for whatever she might ask.

                                            "Would...wouldyouliketobemydateforHeartsandHoovesDay?"

                                            "...say what now?"

                                            >She licks her lips and speaks again, a bit slower.

                                            "Would you like to be my date for Hearts and Hooves Day?"

                                            >Okay. You admit it. You were dead wrong.

                                            >You were prepared for whatever she might ask EXCEPT that.

                                            >Applejack looks down at you, worrying on her bottom lip.

                                            >Releasing her sweet apple flank, you reach up and press a hand to her cheek.

                                            >Her lashes flutter and she leans into that touch.

                                            "Yes...yes, I'd be honored to be your date, Applejack."

                                            >She smiles, turning to give your palm a soft kiss.

                                            "Mmmmmmmmmmm....all right answers, sugarcube. You win the game."


                                            >You grin, pulling her down for another long, slow kiss.

                                            >She grinds down against you, making you gasp in that embrace.

                                            "And now..."

                                            >She speaks, pulling from that kiss, whispering softly. Her breath washes over your face, bathing you in her wonderful scent.

                                            "You get yer prize, Anon. Another forty-five minutes in mah room, alone with me."

                                            >She begins to rise up and down once again, still laying down atop you, using her hips to glide her pussy across your length.

                                            >You wrap your arms around her, holding her close, kissing her cheek, her jawline, her neck.

                                            >Anything you can reach.

                                            >Soon her pace increases, and the atmosphere leaves tender and enters passionate, as it had done before.

                                            >She leans away from you, sitting up, leaning back to press her hooves back against your legs.

                                            >Spreading her body out for you, rising up and down faster and faster.

                                            >You reach up and sink your fingers back into their rightful place into her apple plot.

                                            >YOUR apple plot.

                                            >It sinks into you exactly what this means now.

                                            >You're having sex with Applejack.

                                            >You've got another forty-five minutes alone with her before you leave.

                                            >You're going to be her date for Hearts and Hooves.

                                            >All indications point to her becoming your special somep0ny. And you, her special somehuman.

                                            >As you careen towards your climax, feeling her fall over her own precipice and spasm around your cock, you reflect on the events of the past ten minutes.

                                            >When you entered her window, the two of you had been nothing but friends.

                                            >Now...you're on your way to becoming as close as two ponies or two people can get.

                                            >As you buck up into her, emptying yourself into her eager sex, you realize that sometimes your helpful nature can be a gift as well as a curse.


                                            >Unwillingly you break that final kiss.

                                            >Applejack leans back and slides her window shut, smiling lazily up at you before turning and walking- more like wobbling- back toward her bed.

                                            >Her pussy is oozing your hot cum as well as a her own juices.

                                            >How many times had you fucked in that forty-five minutes? You can hardly keep track of time anymore, much less untangle the web of sex from which you've just untangled yourself.

                                            >Crawling across the porch overhang, you crawl down the trellis and land with a thump on the ground below.

                                            >You worried that you'd feel too tired to go on with the day.

                                            >You're tired all right, but it's nothing you can't handle.

                                            >The joy of knowing that in a week you and AJ will be enjoying a date at Sugarcube Corner is enough to offset the physically draining reality of an hour of constant sex with a mare in heat.

                                            >Slowly, you amble your way back to your cart, a big dopey smile on your fa--

                                            "Ya'll have fun up there, young'un?"

                                            >Your entire belly turns to ice as you hear the familiar wizend voice of Granny Smith behind you.

                                            >Turning, you can see the green-coated geriatric sitting a rocking chair, slowly moving back and forth on the porch.

                                            >Your good mood drains away as you find yourself under her knowing gaze, looking at you over those pair of trifocals.

                                            "Lotta noise you all were makin'. S'good thing I'm mostly deaf, otherwise a pony might think ya'll were havin' relations up there."

                                            >She picks up a small jug of what appears to be moonshine, tipping it back to take a swig and setting it back down.

                                            "Ah, but even if'n ya were, yer a good boy. I know I c'n trust ya to take care of mah little Applejack."

                                            >You allow yourself a small little smile.

                                            >She leans forward, the sun catching her trifocals and making them shine menacingly.

                                            "Cuz I know that, if'n ya don't, we gotta lotta land. Over a hundred acres, if'n I rememeber correctly. Nop0ny'd be able t'find anything we bury in it."

                                            >Your veins fill with ice.

                                            >Granny Smith smiles, sitting back in her rocking chair.

                                            "Yer a nice young'un, though. I know you'll take good care of mah little Applejack. Now you better git movin'. Big Mac ain't gonna be able to buck all those apples by himself."

                                            >You can only give a slow nod, your throat dry as a desert, before you turn back and walk toward your cart.

                                            >Goddamn, Granny Smith. You scary.