Cooling Down and Heating Up
Dull amber hues of light, from the steadily setting sun, painted the Apple Family orchard in the rich oranges of evening. The clan’s barn, atop a small knoll, sat with its main doorway open. Inside the structure, beside a cart heaped with apples, labored Applejack. The gamboge mare carefully finessed the delicate fruit from the wagon, depositing them one by one into an assortment of neatly arranged baskets.
It was the first harvest of the season, and one of the more profitable months for the Apple family, so Applejack and Big Macintosh were kept busy, to say the least. Sure, Applebloom and Granny Smith did what they could to help, but given their ages, there was only so much either could do. Unfortunately, this meant that Applejack and her brother were left with the lion’s share of the hard labor.
Topping off a bushel of the sweet, delectable fruit, Applejack sighed. Removing the stetson from her head, she mopped a streak of sweaty hair from her face. Her yellow mane, much like her tail, was bound in a red ribbon, allowing her to work relatively unhindered. Granny and Bloom had both retired for the day, resigning themselves to finish sorting their harvest in the morning, so only her brother and she were left to finish up. Hearing the telltale squeak of a wagon wheel, she looked over and saw Big Mac approaching the barn.
“Is that the last of the western grove?” Applejack called out, as her brother hauled his cart into the building.
“Eeyup,” Mac stoically replied, pulling his wagon in beside his sister.
As with many earth ponies, the two were exceptionally physically mighty, but the day had taken a toll on the both of them. Glistening with sweat, their heated bodies and breath fogged the cool autumn air around them. Silently, they surveyed their crop, pleased with their labor. In truth, anypony would be impressed with their accomplishment, but the days ahead held much work to be done.
“Ahl right, Ah’m gonna rinse off, before Ah head back to the house,” Applejack plainly stated, giving the initial harvest one last cursory survey, as she turned to face her brother. Her sight lingered for only a moment, before she averted her gaze. While it was true that she was in desperate need of a shower, the cool promise of the garden hose had a second purpose.
Being a young, healthy mare, she would routinely go into season, and the cold water often helped her maintain focus. Going into estrus was...hard to describe. It almost felt like having a fever, leaving her body persistently warm, but that wasn’t the most aggravating part of it; no, the psychological aspects of being in heat were far, far worse. From sunup to sundown, her mind would routinely wander to various debased and lewd thoughts. She often found herself envisioning hulking, muscular stallions, with their chiseled physiques, worming their way into her imagination; stallions just like…
“Eeyup,” Mac intoned, alerting his sister that he’d heard her. Ever phlegmatic, he was nearly always a pony of few words, instead letting his actions speak for him; at least, in his adult life. Calmly, he turned his attention to his cart, to begin unloading its cargo.
Noticing the movement, Applejack glanced back. You wouldn’t think something as commonplace as watching a pony empty a wagon of apples would be that interesting, but you’d be wrong. Slick with sweat, the crimson stallion moved with a silent grace, belying his size and build. His moist coat clung to his frame, allowing her to witness her sibling’s muscles glide over one another. Just as she was dredging up the willpower to divert her attention, something caught her eye. Below Big Mac, having slipped from his nearly black sheath, hung a length of mahogany flesh; steaming the air around it, with its perspiration dampened heat.
Now, it wasn’t uncommon for stallions to “drop” when either exhausted, excited, or relaxed. Of which, Big Mac was almost assuredly the former; but that couldn’t stop Applejack from fixating on it. Despite him being her brother, she had to admit, he had an Adonic-like physique. From the shaggy orange mane upon his head, to the yoke around his thickly muscled neck, and down to his fur crowned hooves, he was as close to perfect as she could imagine.
Applejack’s eyes drifted over her oblivious sibling, drinking in every detail of his sculpted body, before shamefully settling on the tool dangling between his hind legs. As depraved as it was, she simply couldn’t help herself. The way his cable-like muscles moved, to the gouts of hot air from his snout while he labored, he was a flawless stallion. Despite herself, her marehood clenched, as her body took note of the virile male before her.
Slowly, Mac stopped moving, leaving Applejack to shift her focus upward. His expression was curious; impassive, but with a hint of curiosity. Immediately, after having been caught ogling his equipment, Applejack blushed deeply. She had to say something, anything to defuse the situation.
“Y...ya want ta help me hoze off?” Applejack blurted, saying the first thing that came to mind. Biting her lip, and wheeling around, she broke her gaze, before he could respond. It’s not like she really wanted his help. Tartarus, right then and there, the last thing she wanted was to be around him; not because she was worried about what he’d say, but what she might do. Taking one step, followed by a second, she started trotting towards the door.
“Eeyup,” Mac solemnly replied.
Applejack froze, at hearing his words. “Well,” she began, forcing herself to continue onward, “come on. Sooner we get done, the sooner we can get some grub.” Proceeding outside, she heard Mac’s heavy hooffalls behind her. As she passed through the doorway, and without any conscious effort, her tail, partially raised, absentmindedly swished from side to side.
Big Mac’s cheeks went flush, as he followed his sister outside. Inadvertent or not, he was treated to tantalizing glimpses of his sibling’s marehood, nestled between her sculpted glutes and upper thighs. Was she his sister? Yes. But even he had to admit that she was a fine specimen of a mare. Applejack was fit, resourceful, and hard working to a fault. Were it not for the fact that he was already with Sugar Belle, or the fact that she was his family, he’d certainly attempt to court her.
Sweet Celestia, any stallion would be lucky to have a mare like Applejack, which raised an interesting question. Exactly why hadn’t she found herself a coltfriend? It’s not like there was anything wrong with her. Shucks, she was even one of the Elements of Harmony, taut at the Friendship School, and helped save Equestria on a hoofful of occasions. Come to think of it, she’d never had a special somepony, so how did she handle her…
Then it clicked. Applejack had been acting somewhat distracted, especially when he was around, and it almost felt like she was trying to avoid him. She couldn’t be going through her heat, could she? Mac, checking to see if his sister was looking, snuck a glimpse of Applejack’s behind. Her sex did seem somewhat swollen, it’s amber flesh engorged and rosy, not to mention it was sopping wet. Yeah, it could have just been sweat, although he couldn’t be sure. Regardless, he trailed her, following her outside.
Making her way to the spigot, located on the side of the barn, furthest from the house, Applejack stopped. Swatting at the valve, she sent water coursing through the length of hose. As she leaned in, opening her mouth to retrieve the thing, Mac’s head shot forward. Rearing back, she fixed him with a petulant stare.
“Ya didn’t have to help,” Applejack grumbled, irritated that he’d actually taken her up on her offer. He shook his head, sending water flying everywhere. “But you’re gonna anyways, ain’t ya?” she asked, causing him to nod. “Fine, just give me a good rinse,” she flatly stated, expertly tossing her hat onto a fence post, and turning away from him.
Angling his head, Mac directed the hose over Applejack’s back and flanks. She shivered, as her body was cascaded with the cold water. Without a nozzle, the flow wasn’t all that powerful, so it wasn’t able to reach her withers. In spite of the frigid shower, her tail was still unnaturally raised, lending Mac’s theory more weight. Stepping forward, in an attempt to rinse off her shoulders, his chest brushed against her buttock. Her reaction was immediate, as she jumped forward.
“Watch it mister!” Applejack declared, stomping a hoof in frustration. While her tone was harsh and biting, her heart was aflutter. The moment Mac had brushed against her, feeling his heat against her rear, her pulse had quickened. If she hadn’t done something to get away, she feared she would have melted.
“Mmmph mph,” Mac muttered, from around the hose in his maw.
“What?” Applejack shot back, leering at him.
Spitting the tube into his hoof, he placidly looked at her. “Stand still,” he repeated, before taking the hose end between his teeth. Applejack sighed and turned away, yet didn’t move a hoof. Upon caressing her rump, and watching her spring forward, his suspicions had been confirmed. While it had been brief, nearly the blink of an eye, he had noticed her marehood wink, a sure sign that she was painfully aroused. Sister or not, she was one of the best ponies he’d ever met, so he decided to help her out.
Taking a step forward, Big Mac intentionally ground his chest against Applejack’s flank. Water poured over her body, plastering her mane and tail to her frame. Content with leaving her one side, he moved to the other. Again, he pressed himself against her, a bit more forcefully this time, while he continued with his task. The mare shuddered, but not from the cold.
Applejack felt like she was going to die. Her knees were weak, and her marehood was seizing upon itself so hard that it ached. As if feeling Mac’s body against hers wasn’t bad enough, he was so close that she could smell him and, sweet, merciful Celestia, he smelled downright heavenly. She couldn’t be sure if he’d always had such a captivating scent, but he sure had one now. Earthy, a bit musky, sweaty, but not in a bad way, everything a hard-working stallion should smell like.
Unable to bear it any longer, and positively drenched, in more ways than one, Applejack swung her head around to look at him, to simply tell him she was done, yet she couldn’t. As she turned, she found herself snout to snout with her brother. Their eyes met and the two looked deeply at one another for what felt like an eternity.
“I…” Applejack began, incapable of finishing. For buck’s sake, she was so worked up she didn’t even know what she was going to say! As she desperately tried to regain some sense of composure, she heard it; a wet slapping noise. Glancing around, seeking the source, she quickly found it. Big Mac’s stallionhood, now at full mast, was hanging beneath him. With a damp thump, it smacked against his underbelly.
“You...Uh...You’re a little worked up, ain’t ya?” Applejack meekly asked, laughing nervously.
Mac nodded, dropping the hose to the muddy ground.
“I...It almost looks like you’re rarin to rut a mare,” Applejack continued, her chuckle dying off.
Again, Big Mac nodded, slower this time.
“I...I…” Applejack stammered, her words failing her. Silently, yet keeping his eyes locked with hers, Mac moved to her rear. She stood still, locked in place, as he brought his muzzle closer and closer to her behind. For whatever reason, she couldn’t move, and even if she could have, a part of her didn’t want to. Feeling his breath against her tush, her tail raised further, fully exposing her winking entrance and the pucker seated just above it.
Now face to rump with Applejack’s nethers, Mac was treated to an up close look of what she had to offer. Her marehood, a slightly darker shade than her hide, was taut and meaty. Every few seconds, it winked at him, momentarily exposing her pink and succulent interior. That close, he was able to get a decent whiff of her most intimate of scents. Even though she was his sister, he was getting more aroused with every passing second. He told himself he was doing this for her, merely helping his dearest sibling blow off some steam, if only to assuage his own reservations. Nearer and nearer his snout crept, until it was a mere hair’s breadth away. A lick couldn’t hurt, could it? After all, he wanted to make sure she was good and ready, for what he was about to do.
Slowly, Mac’s lips parted, as his tongue approached her entrance. Dragging it over her bulging clit, and up through her velvety folds, Applejack trembled. The flavor was strangely pleasant, far stronger than Sugar Belle’s, saltier and more tart, but not bad at all. Giving her a few additional cursory licks, he pressed his face forward, driving his tongue deeper into her entrance.
Applejack’s eyes fluttered, while her brother proceeded to eat her out. While it wasn’t exactly what she’d been expecting, or what she truly pined for, the oral ministrations served as a decent appetizer, if nothing else. Gently rocking her hips back, pressed herself onto Mac’s muzzle, she subconsciously urged him to continue.
With his face virtually entombed within his sister’s marehood, Mac licked away. Her interior, warm and inviting around his countenance, left him to wonder just how titillating she would feel around his stallionhood. Retracting his tongue, he gently suckled upon her clit, to which Applejack promptly responded. A throaty moan escaped her, just as his face was doused with a small stream of her fluids.
In Mac’s experience, mares did that sometimes, especially when they were in season or severely aroused. They called it squirting, and it served a myriad of purposes. Firstly, much like their winking, it was a palpable signal that they were lusty. Secondly, it assisted to lubricate their canal, for rutting. Lastly, and most insidiously, their nectar was absolutely teeming with pheromones. With his sinuses and palate awash with his sibling’s essence, his own wanton appetite was magnified several times over.
Withdrawing his head, and licking his lips, Mac surveyed his sister’s hind quarters. While his visage appeared impassive, the stallion was anything but. His member loudly slapped against his abdomen, urging him to bury it within the female before him. A gout of hot breath huffed from his flaring nostrils, as his eyes remained locked on Applejack’s drenched marehood. Stepping forward, he pressed his chest against her tush, almost necking it for a heartbeat, before he went to mount her.
In that instant, the split second she felt Mac’s weight bearing down on her, some deep seated hesitancy within her started to fracture. Turning her head, and glancing over her shoulder, Applejack gazed cravingly at her brother. Could she truly be considering going through with this? Was it really possible that she was going to let him follow through with it? Even though her mind was in turmoil, with a war waging between her lascivious desires and better judgement, her body answered for her.
Spreading her hind legs, and further bracing herself, Applejack angled her waist upward. It was, in a very real sense, the clear stance of a mare preparing to be bred. Though she didn’t say a word, she glanced back, her eyes filled with longing, at her beloved brother. Her look told him everything that he needed to know, that she truly, dearly, desperately wanted him.
Any reservations about committing himself dissipated, turning to ash, as Mac’s own excitement soared to new heights. A rut lust of his own was steadily taking hold of him, pushing him to breach the taboo and to claim the mare in front of him. Sister or not, she was a mare in heat, and he a stallion at the breaking point. With her wordless begging gaze lingering upon him, signalling beyond any doubt that she wanted everything he had to offer, he grunted. Stepping forward and rearing to his hind legs, he snorted.
Gracelessly, Mac went crashing forward upon Applejack, just before he locked his forelegs around her toned hips. His hips flexed, sending the tip of his drooling tool to impact and deflect against her right glute, as it desperately sought her entrance. After the third failed thrust, and with sister’s backside streaked with his pre-cum, he hit his mark. Upon sensing the heat and moisture of Applejack’s sex, he drove himself forward. In one, inelegant plunge, Mac rammed nearly half of his shaft into his sister’s marehood.
The feeling of being so abruptly filled almost caused Applejack’s legs to buckle, almost. While Applejack had fooled around with a stallion or two, none of them could hold a candle to just how 'Big' Mac was. The remarkable fullness her brother afforded was exquisite, causing her snatch to stretch and wrap around his member. It didn’t hurt, not in a traditional sense, but it was most certainly intense. That being said, any discomfort was overshadowed by the thrill of the moment and the sublime carnal pleasure of the circumstances. A large stallion on her back, his weight upon her hips, a blazing hot tool buried within herself, it was all a mare in heat could ask for.
Bracing herself, and steeling her resolve, Applejack pushed back, causing an extra inch of his length to slide into cunt. Her winking, while initially involuntary, was replaced by the intentional flexing of her pelvic muscles. A lifetime of hard labor, paired with how turned on she was, allowed her to firmly clench around Mac’s rod, spurring him to move.
As Applejack seized around his length, Mac snorted and shuffled forward. Rearing his hips back, and pulling a fraction of himself from his sister’s confines, he promptly thrust deeply into her. The medial ring of his cock, resting nearly two thirds of the way down its length, went crashing into Applejack’s canal. Now re-positioned, if only slightly, Mac could properly rut his sister. And rut he did. His movements were slow, almost laborious, as he rhythmically withdrew and hammered himself forward. Her interior was snug, hot, and delectably juicy, everything he could have hoped for and more.
With her brother upon her back, Applejack was rocked forward, with each plunge. His balls, heavy and pendulous, full of thick seed, slapped wetly against her clit, causing her to shiver in bliss. Deeper and deeper still he plunged, delving the depths of her sex, until the prodigious and blunt head of his stallionhood impacted against her cervix. It almost felt like a freight train ramming her womb, so great was his impetus. Yet her determination was unshaken; in fact, if anything, it was bolstered by outright fierceness and primal nature of their coupling. Slowly, Applejack rocked herself back, to meet his bucking hips.
Mac was keenly aware of what Applejack was doing; at least, on some base level, he was. Their bodies moved in tune, his waist meeting her ass, as he packed her full of his stallionhood. He grit his teeth, snorting like an animal, as he plowed her. His hooves, digging into her upper thighs, ensured she was held securely in place. It wasn’t that he had any fear of her escaping, not at all, but tightly holding one’s mate lent an added layer of passion to the experience.
Every vein, every ridge and contour of Mac’s mighty phallus glided past Applejack’s entrance, replacing its momentary absence over and over again. The girthy medial ring, marking the thickest part of his cock, ground against her G-spot. It sent lightning bolts of pleasure through her body, every time it graced the sensitive area. Her sex periodically gushed, adding lubrication to her brother’s pre-cum, while their motions gradually increased in speed and force. Any regular mare would likely be a gibbering mess at that point, but Applejack was no ordinary mare. “H...harder,” she rasped, prompting him to give her everything he had.
With a titanic plunge, Mac solemnly obliged his sister. The power of his thrusts instantaneously amplified, causing Applejack’s frame, markedly smaller than his own, to stagger slightly. If she wanted it all, by Luna, that’s what she was going to get. Though he couldn’t see it, he felt her silken interior desperately clinging to him, her lower lips being dragged out, before they were pressed inward. There was no stopping him, not until their lust was fully slaked.
Applejack’s heart thundered in her chest, and her breathing was growing ragged, as the carnal union dragged on. A sublime heat and pressure was steadily mounting within her, tearing at the fundamental core of her sanity. It was almost like a fire of bliss, growing with each passing second, was being stoked. As it expanded, fueled by the rough rutting, it threatened to overtake her. Her release, tantalizingly close, yet so far away, was almost within reach.
Mac knew he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer. As pleasurable as the experience was, all good things must end. Undeterred, he continued thrusting, slamming himself into Applejack’s marehood. The head of his cock sluggishly started to flare, expanding incrementally and increasing the resistance of his plunges. Gritting his teeth, he endured, Tartarus bent to push them both to finish.
The added internal pressure of Mac’s flaring cock wasn’t doing Applejack any favors. As much as she wanted to reciprocate his movements, her body wouldn’t allow her to. It was all she could do to maintain her footing, allowing him to use her, to be ravaged like a bitch in heat. Her legs trembled, threatening to give out beneath her. She was almost there, teetering on the brink, all she needed was a bit more.
Losing any semblance of coherence, Mac jackhammered away. His movements, long and deliberate, had devolved to a series of quick, almost frantic thrusts. Indolently, his nuts pulled close to his groin, as his body prepared itself for what was to come. Finally, with one last, forceful plunge, he hilted himself within Applejack’s abused marehood. Were it not through sheer force of will, a guttural roar would have escaped him; instead, he grunted through his nose, as he came.
The stallionhood upon which Applejack was impaled throbbed violently, almost angrily; its head, bloated to nearly double its original size, lie directly against her cervix. Suddenly, her sex expanded, ever so slightly, as the first scalding shots of his cum were sent rocketing through its length. His urethra, kissing her inner entrance, unleashed the first shot of seed, bathing her interior with Mac’s essence.
Applejack knew what was happening, that Big Macintosh, her very brother, was about to unleash a torrent cum within her. Some part of her, deep down, realized the implications of such a deed, or what fruit it may bear, yet there was nothing she could do. She had reached a point of no return and there was no looking back. A fundamental part of her, engrained within her very biology, had taken hold. Her want, no, her need to be bred was overpowering; and the most frightening part was, she didn’t fight it.
Like a bomb detonating, Applejack was pushed past her limit. Rapture overtook her, causing a throaty, whorish moan to sneak past her lips. A deluge of her nectar seeped out of her stuffed cunt, weakly spurting and dribbling to the packed earth below, but it couldn’t hope to compare to the amount of spunk Mac produced.
The experience for Applejack was mind boggling. She honestly couldn’t tell where one orgasm concluded and another began, so great was her ecstasy. Her entire world, the very core of her being, was reduced to licentious bliss. Applejack wasn’t sure what, if anything, awaited her in the afterlife, but she couldn’t picture anything closer to heaven. Treading the razor’s edge of consciousness, she endured. Mercifully, at some point during the rutting, her knees had locked, allowing her to remain in a standing position.
Wave after wave, shot after shot, the stallion’s cum bathed Applejack’s insides. The initial eruptions were so intense, that her womb was filled with ropes of Mac’s stringy seed; each one brimming with thousands of sperm, each one eager to seek out and inseminate an egg. Every nook and cranny of her canal was positively drenched in the stuff; so much so that errant gobbets and strands were ejected from her crowded entrance.
Having lost himself to the moment, Mac snapped back to reality, if only for a second. With a moment of clarity, in the midst of cumming, Mac realized exactly what he was doing. The last thing he needed to do was to empty his nuts into a mare, especially his own sibling. Releasing Applejack’s waist, he reared up and took a step back. Pulling out mid-climax wasn’t ideal, but he didn’t want to fully unload inside of her. Retracting his hips, he hauled his stallionhood from his sister. With a wet pop, the swollen head of his tool escaped her marehood. Hot laces of cream continued to gush from his swaying, weighty member, spattering across Applejack’s backside, legs, and the ground. The viscous material steamed wherever it landed, whether it be dirt, fur, or flesh.
As Mac pulled himself from her confines, Applejack faltered. Though the post-coitus euphoria was strong, to the point of lightheadedness, she felt hollow. Ineffectually, her marehood, agape and leaking foal batter, clutched at nothing. All she could do was breathe, ride it out, and wait for control of her body to return. Feeling something caress her neck, she wearily turned. With blurry, unfocused eyes, Applejack realized her brother was gently caressing her withers and neck with his muzzle. She smiled, noting the dreamy, silly stupor he was in.
“Alright, alright, hold yer horses,” Applejack wheezed. Deliberate or not, he’d reminded her they should probably get cleaned up and back to the house, before Granny Smith and Apple Bloom started asking questions; or worse, came looking for them. “Just hose most of it off. Ah’ll hop in she shower, just as soon as we get home,” she continued, her mental faculties lazily returning.
Nodding, Mac retrieved the hose and proceeded to rinse off the bulk of their mess. Thankfully, given how sweaty she’d been prior to their canoodling, most of the cum washed off easily. Applejack would be sure to scour off what was left, when she got to take a proper shower.
“So, uh, we really did that, huh?” Applejack anxiously asked, feeling a need to break the silence.
Big Mac nodded and blushed a bit, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Probably shouldn’t go off and mention this to anypony,” Applejack added, just as her brother dropped the hose.
“Nnnope,” Mac hastily replied, briskly shaping his head.
“Yeah, that’d probably be a bad idea. Alright, let’s get back,” Applejack affirmed. Turning, she started making her way around the barn and towards the house, albeit with a shambling, unsteady gait. Her brother plodded along behind her; quiet, as usual.
As they drew nearer and nearer to the house, Applejack slowed. “Say, ummm, ya wouldn’t mind helpin' me out again sometime, would ya? Ya know, I mean, only if’n Ah needed it…” she quietly asked, somewhat reluctantly.
Mac paused, weighing the question. Although he did feel some modicum of shame from rutting his sibling, he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t been one heck of an experience. She was his sister, so he’d do what he could to help her out; at least, that’s what he kept telling himself, to mask his enthusiasm.
“E...eeyup,” he muttered, his blush returning in full force at the prospect of bedding her again.
Fighting back a smile, Applejack proceeded towards the house. At least she knew, for the time being, she’d have someone there to scratch a very particular, very deep itch…
