Pinkie Pie Soft Incest Green


                                            >It's been about a month since your cousin Pinkie Pie moved in with you and your parents.

                                            >Says she wanted to get away from the rock farm, and "broaden her possibilities," whatever the hell that means.

                                            >Who knows what Pinkie's motivations are, anyway?

                                            >At first, her moving in seemed pretty normal. She has her own room, which she decorated with a frankly obscene amount of pink.

                                            >She fit right in at your school, quickly making friends, even sharing some of your own.

                                            >For a while, things were pleasantly exciting with her around.

                                            >But, now, things have taken a turn for the awkward!

                                            >She constantly seeks you in the hallways, wrapping you up in her arms from behind.

                                            >"Hi, Nonny!" She would sometimes say, in a sing-songy voice, rubbing her hands down your chest.

                                            >At lunch, she often sat next to you at the table.

                                            >She'd rest her hand on your thigh, and lean into you, rubbing your shoulders together whenever you cracked even the lamest of jokes, cackling with laughter.

                                            >”Oh Anon! You're so funny,: Pinkie would say, resting her head on your shoulder.

                                            >She sounded so genuine. So sweet… Whenever she got close, you could smell the lavender in her hair, sneaking a peek down her loose shirt, and at her cleavage…

                                            >You can feel the tent being pitched in your pants, and pray to GOD she doesn't notice, especially with her palm tracing your thigh, dangerously close to your groin.

                                            >Every day is like this. Pinkie cuddles you whenever she can, regardless of the circumstance, while you hide an awkward erection with anything you can.

                                            >Needless to say, loose shorts are a no-go at school…

                                            >Apparently, Pinkie didn't get the memo…


                                            >You sit on the island in the kitchen, pouring a bowl of cereal, smothering it in a layer of milk.

                                            >”Morning, Nonny!” Pinkie says, surprising you with yet another hug.

                                            “Hey, Pinkie Pie,” you return, keeping still, your cheeks flushing.

                                            >You feel her breasts pushing into the small of your back as she leans into you.

                                            >The hug seems to last for an eternity, your heart thumping in your chest.

                                            >Finally, your cousin breaks the hug, tussling your hair.

                                            >”Whatchya eatin'?” She says, walking around, going to the cupboards.

                                            “Cereal.” You reply, simply, munching on the crunchy grains.

                                            >”Awww, that's boring!” She huffs, opening the wooden doors.

                                            >Her eyes light up with sudden enthusiasm “Hey! You should let me bake you something! Whatdya feel like? Cupcake? Turnover? Pie? Cake? Fritter? Brownies? Custard? Bread pudding?

                                            “Uhh. Whatever you feel like baking is fine with me.”

                                            >”I'll just make one of everything!” She says, turning around to look through the cupboards for baking supplies.

                                            >Through your attempts at ambivalence, you completely missed what Pinkie was wearing, until now.

                                            >She wears a thin pink tank top, her breasts filling it out, lifting up the base, revealing a little of her midriff when she moves.

                                            >Her panties must've been a size or two too small for how little they covered of her nethers.

                                            >Her ass cheeks just barely peek through them, revealing just the start of their curvature through the leg holes.

                                            >Connected to them are her legs, big and shapely, but not overly fat. They have just the right amount of width to them to excite you in all the right ways.

                                            >As she walks, they sway and jiggle, mezmorizingly. You have to fight to peel your eyes away. A few centering breaths, and a mouthful of cereal slowly bring you and your little man, from your excitement.

                                            >Until she bent over to search through the cupboard…

                                            >You are greeted to a face full of your cousin's ass.

                                            >It's clear where all the weight from her sweet tooth has settled, as the soft mounds billow out frin the overworked underwear.

                                            >She sways her hips from side to side, humming to herself as she rummages through the cupboard, pans and pots carefully set aside and not allowed to clang together, Pinkie being surprisingly considerate of your sleeping parents.

                                            >You watch as every motion moves her underwear further up her voluptuous ass, revealing more of the sizable cheeks, turning the panties slowly into makeshift Daisy Dukes.

                                            >”Hey Anon, do you know if you have any muffin trays?” Pinkie asked, her head still in the cupboard.

                                            Oh, god, Anonymous, pull yourself together! You think to yourself, swallowing hard, your mouth going dry.

                                            “I - I don't think we have one, Pinkie,” you manage to stutter out, after clearing your throat.

                                            >”Hmmmm” She hums, pensively. “Maybe it's on the lower shelf?”

                                            >She bends down even lower, lodging her underwear deep in her crack, and you think you can make out her lips puffing out from the sides of her panties.

                                            Oh fuck! Oh shit! If you weren't at mast before, you DEFINITELY were now!

                                            “Uh, you know what, Pinkie,” you blurt out, suddenly, feeling ready to explode, in a couple ways. “How about I help you find them? That should make it quicker, right?”

                                            You pop off the stool, walking around to the cupboard Pinkie is searching.

                                            >”Aww, thank you so much, Nonny!” Only after you dismount the stool does Pinkie stand up straight and does the realization set in. Your massive erection will be right there for her to see, once you round the corner.

                                            >You stop, frozen in place, Pinkie looking at you with a wide smile.

                                            “Hold on just a sec,” you say, turning around, adjusting your shorts.

                                            >You feign playing with the pull string, trying to lay your cock along the thicker waistband.

                                            >The damn thing doesn't want to cooperate, flaring and twitching, thinking it's time to play.

                                            God damn it. Please, just sit still!

                                            >After wrestling with it for far too long, you get your little man into a sensible position.

                                            You turn back around, with a smile. “Sorry. These things are too big on me, they tend to fall off.”

                                            >”That's fine! Gosh knows I've never had that problem, hahaha!” She giggles, snapping the tight waistband on her panties.

                                            "Yeah, I noticed." You answer quietly, turning the corner, carefully keeping your movements slow.

                                            >You manage to get to the cupboard, thankfully, without incident.

                                            “Let's see. What did you need?” You ask, leaning into the cupboard.

                                            >”Baking sheets, molds, bread pan, cake pan, muffin tray, pie tins… Oh! And a mixing bowl and stand mixer, with measuring cups and ingredients!

                                            “So much for a lazy Sunday.” You chuckle, searching through the supplies.

                                            >You set the items on the counter, piling them up on top of each other.

                                            “There. That should be everything I could find.”

                                            >”Yay! Thank you, Nonny!” Pinkie wraps around you, nuzzling her head into your chest.

                                            “S-sure.” You mumble, resting your hand on her head.

                                            >”Wanna help me?” She asks, looking up at you. “I wanna spend time with my favorite cousin!

                                            >There it is again. The smell of her hair, the feeling of her bare legs against yours, when she gyrates her hips back and forth.

                                            “But, I don't know how to bake…” The idea did sound genuinely interesting, but all this distraction was too much!

                                            >”Don't worry, I had to learn by myself, so we can teach you twice as fast!

                                            >Pinkie breaks the hug, grabbing the mixing bowl and a few ingredients.

                                            >She effortlessly measures out the ingredients, cracking eggs, and pouring vanilla adding them to the bowl.

                                            > She whispers to herself, bending her back to closely inspect the consistency, giving you another sneak at her bubble ass.

                                            >”There!” She says, loudly, snapping your attention out of your daydream, and onto her face.

                                            “”All you need to do is mix that batter together, until it's niiice and creamy! Then, we're gonna put it in this cake mold, and bake it! I'm gonna go preheat the oven, okay?”

                                            >You nod, looking at the alien contraption. Lowering the blades into the batter, you search for the “on” switch. Finding a knob, you crank it as far as it'll turn…

                                            >The mixer angrily whirrs to life! It spits batter everywhere! On the counter, on you, on the wall behind you! And, of course, on Pinkie Pie.

                                            “Oh, shit!” You quickly shut off the machine, but the damage is done. The room is a mess and both of you are covered.

                                            >Pinkie turns around, surveying the damage. “Uhh, maaaybe I should handle the baking from now on.”

                                            >Having her back turned to you, the batter splattered all over her back and butt.

                                            >Batter drips down her legs, tracing the musculature of her thighs, dripping onto the floor.

                                            “I'm so sorry, Pinkie! I'll clean this up!” You hastily go to grab a handful of paper towels.

                                            >She giggles, grabbing your wrist. “It's okay, Nonny! This isn't the first time my baking has destroyed a kitchen. Let's get ourselves cleaned up first, okay? Can you help me?”

                                            >She walks off, toward the bathroom, still dripping batter with each step.

                                            “Help you? With what?”

                                            >”With cleaning up, silly!” She says, grabbing a towel, walking into the bathroom.

                                            >Your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

                                            “Can't you do that yourself?” You call out, your cock filling your waistband again.

                                            >”Well, yeah, but I don't want you to have wait to take a shower.” She retorts, the sound of water splashing into the tub.

                                            “I guess that makes sense. But I can wait, really…” You turn the corner, peering into the bathroom.

                                            >Pinkie is bare ass naked! Her panties are around her ankles as she steps through them.

                                            >She turns to look at you. “You sure? It'd only take a second.”

                                            “No, r-really, I think I can wai - “

                                            >She walks out to meet you in the hall, her snatch in the open air.

                                            >You can feel your muscles tremble as she approaches, you heart pounding.

                                            >You turn your head, closing your eyes tightly.

                                            >You can feel her rest her hand on your shoulder.

                                            >She turns your head to face her. ”Look at me.” She orders, her voice uncharacteristically stern.

                                            >She speaks up. “Anonymous, relax. I get it, I'm naked. It's not that special. Really. Once you see it a few times, you've seen it a thousand times.”

                                            >Taking a shaky breath, you open your eyes, greeted by Pinkie's pretty face and wide smile.

                                            >”There. That wasn't so bad, was it?”

                                            “No. I guess not.” You chuckle, as Pinkie backs away.

                                            >As she does, she peels off her tank top, her breasts falling out onto her chest.

                                            >”Ta-da!” She laughs throwing it into the bathroom. "See, you didn't burst into flames!"

                                            "I feel like I'm about to…" You admit, flushed with warmth.

                                            >”Hee hee hee. Your turn!” Pinkie says, excitedly.

                                            >Reluctantly, you slide your shirt over your head, throwing it on the floor.

                                            >”Shorts, too!” She says, still looking you in the face.

                                            >You turn your head again, slowly sliding down your shorts, kicking them aside, your member at full attention.

                                            >”Wow… Okay, I've never seen something like THAT before. Guess that's the downside of only having sisters for siblings.

                                            >Pinkie giggles, a twinge of red painting her cheeks. “Come on, Nonny, let's get cleaned up.

                                            >She walks back into the bathroom, stepping into the bathtub.

                                            >You follow her after a moment to collect yourself. “Life on a rock farm doesn't seem so boring after all.” You whisper to yourself.

                                            >You close the door behind you, joining Pinkie in the shower.

                                            >“Man, Nonny! You really did a number with that mixer! I had batter all down my back and in my underwear!”

                                            “Yeah, I need a little more practice before I can help out with the baking.”

                                            >You stand in the shower, motionless, as Pinkie casually rinses her body with a loofah, running it down her torso.

                                            > The water drips off her body, soapy suds, draining into the basin.

                                            >She bends over, grabbing a shampoo bottle, squirting the blue gel into her palms.

                                            >Pinkie lathers it into her floofy pink hair, turning back to you.

                                            >She cocks an eyebrow, giggling “Earth to Anon. Anyone home?”

                                            “Oh! Yeah, sorry. A little distracted is all.” You grab your own bottle of shampoo, washing your hair accordingly.

                                            >Pinkie looks at you, with the same smile she always had, completely comfortable with the whole situation.

                                            >You, on the other hand, are trying to keep your eyes from wandering. Every time they go any lower than Pinkie's neck, you snap them into a random direction, absently rubbing your hair with your foamy hands.

                                            “So, uh…” You begin, trying to break the silence. “I don't think I ever asked you how you're liking the school. I mean, you've been there for a while, and it seems like you're getting along well, I just wanted to make sure.”

                                            >"Things are EXCELLENT!" She beams, rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, the lather coating her chest.

                                            >"You never told me you had so many friends?"

                                            "I… Yeah, I guess," you admit with a smile.

                                            >"They all tell me how awesome you are! Not that I needed to be told that.”

                                            >Her words feel good to hear, and for the first time, you find yourself able to relax a little.

                                            “Well, I've certainly told them a lot about you too. They're always surprised to hear how hard-working you are. Hard to imagine a ball of energy like you hauling around gem-embedded rocks for a living.

                                            >”I can't believe it either. That's part of the reason why I left.”

                                            “And to spend time with your cousin of course.”

                                            >”My favorite cousin, too!” She says, grabbing a bottle of shaving cream.

                                            >”Ugh, it's been so long since I shaved!”

                                            >You look down her legs, they're silky smooth. Same with her face, and arms.

                                            >You wonder what she could be referring to that needed to be shaved.

                                            >Oh, no! She doesn't mean that, does she..?

                                            >Pinkie lifts her leg, resting her foot on the side of the tub.

                                            >With a hand full of cream, Pinkie rubs it onto her crotch. "Oh. That's cold!" She giggles.

                                            >"You could do with some trimming yourself, Nonny!" She points her pink razor at your crotch, full of unkempt hair.

                                            "I never really saw the need. I can't even see down there."

                                            >"I could help you! Trust me! Another pair of eyes really helps get all those hidden hairs. You could do the same for me!"

                                            >You scoff out a laugh, shaking your head.

                                            “What the hell, why not? We've already seen each other naked, what harm could this really do?”

                                            >Pinkie adeptly works the razor on her crotch, cutting off clumps of pink public hair, her sex getting and more clean shaven.

                                            >As she finishes, she runs her fingers along her lips, feeling around for stray hairs. “ I can't tell if I got them all, do you see anything?” Before you get a chance to respond, Pinkie turns away from you, bending over, giving you a thorough look at her puffy vulva.

                                            “Jesus, Pinkie, Pie!” You laugh, leaning in to discern any hairs she may have missed.

                                            >She turns her head, sticking her tongue out at you, swaying her hips from side to side as you inspect her.

                                            “Yeah, actually. There's one right here.” You point with your finger,

                                            >”Where? Put your finger on it, so I can find it.”

                                            >Oh boy, here we go. Up to now, things have been pretty passive. You look at her, she looks at you, a little blushing, nothing too taboo. But now, it felt like you'd be crossing a line to do this.

                                            >A laundry list of concerns assault your mind. Is that too far? God, maybe you've gone too far already..?

                                            “Um. Pinkie, I don't think that would be appropriate,” you admit, standing back up.

                                            >”What? Don't be silly, billy! How else am I gonna be able to get all the hairs back there?” She reaches the razor between her legs, playfully running it down her lips, grunting in feigned frustration.

                                            >You sigh in concession.

                                            “Alright. But this is the only time I'm doing this.”

                                            >Aww, Nonny! Don't wanna help your favoritest cousin?!”

                                            “Yes, I do! It's just that this is gonna take some getting used to. That's all.”

                                            >”Don't worry, Nonny. My sister's and I help clean each other all the time after the farm makes us all dirty!”

                                            >'Cousin Applejack would be proud of your way with words,' you silently think to yourself.

                                            “I'm gonna grab a hair now. Lemme know if it get too uncomfortable, okay?”

                                            >”Okie dokie lokie!” She replies, as chipper as ever.

                                            >Your fingers slowly approach Pinkie's lips. Another centering breath, and you run your index finger and thumb along them, grabbing for any wayward hairs.

                                            >”Youch!” Pinkie yelps, causing you to jump back. “Try not to pinch little Pie so hard.”

                                            “Sorry. First time I'm doing this.” You go back to nitpicking for hairs. “Found one, right here.”

                                            >Pinkie brings the razor back, trying to cut the hair, but the angle makes it awkward for her to reach.

                                            >”Oh, shoot! Dang razor!” She huffs, reaching around her side to hand it to you. “Can you do it?”

                                            “Fine.” You say, more out of acceptance of the situation rather than defiance.

                                            >Taking the razor, you run it along Pinkie's full, puffy vulva carefully, snipping the hairs a little at a time.

                                            >All the while, she giggles, and fidgets with her hips. “Anon, that tickles!”

                                            >Her motion makes it difficult to make good contact with the skin. In a bout of frustration, you grab her hip to hold her still.

                                            >It's now that you finally realize how big her hips are. Your thumb can barely reach around the cheek, as your hand holds her bone.

                                            “Try to sit still, Pinkie. I don't wanna cut you.”

                                            >”Soooorry, she says, twitching a little less.

                                            >After a few minutes of running the razor down her pussy, a quick once-over with your fingers proves she's silky smooth.

                                            “Okay, I think that's it!” You set the razor on the corner of the tub.

                                            >Pinkie stands back up, using her fingers to rub her lips happily. “Ahh, that's much better!”

                                            >She picks up the shaving cream again, rubbing it in her palms. “Your turn!”

                                            “Do I have to?” You look down at your crotch. The rat's nest of pubic hair REALLY could use a trim or two…

                                            >”Yes!” She says, conclusively. “Trust me, you'll love the feeling after I'm done! Don't you miss the bare skin that used to be there?”

                                            “Yeah, it was pretty nice. It does tend to get everywhere.”

                                            >“Yay!” Pinkie rubs her hands over your groin, lathering the shaving cream onto the bushy pubic hair, letting it sit for a minute, to straighten the hair.

                                            >“Here we go...” Your pink-haired cousin shaves down the hair above your penis, the fair-colored clumps washing down the drain.

                                            >”Oh yeah, you're already looking a lot better, Nonny!”

                                            >Pinkie presses her free hand onto the shaft, flattening it out, making it easier to get the hairs on the top side.

                                            >Your blush returns with a vengeance. Pinkie, meanwhile seems unphased, humming softly to herself, as she lifts up your shaft to access the underside.

                                            >With her fingertips lightly squeezing on the head, it's natural that you would get a little arroused.

                                            >So, of course, you fight the urge.

                                            >Your mind's eye thinks back to your mother, and all the times she grossed you out as a kid.

                                            >'Oh, man, all the times her and Dad would get into it in the living room. The way she giggled when her neck was nibbled, how she never really lost all of the baby weight from when she was younger. How, sometimes, when she was cooking, or standing at the counter, her back would jut out just a tad too far. Putting her ass right at face level…