Chapters Completely out of place in the small hospital, a human paced nervously outside a maternity ward. A muted silence hung in the hall, broken occasionally by the squeak of sneakers on the polished floor. Clammy hands wrung each other as he waited for any news from the nurse.
Suddenly two nurses rushed by, hooves clopping loudly as they pushed inside. For a brief moment, the man hears a pony moaning slightly in pain. He reaches out towards the door, held in place by a promise. They didn't know what to expect. No magic could tell them if the child would be human or not.
He thought that over a moment. Not human. That wasn't the right word. As long as she was born healthy it didn't matter.
Only a few minutes later, the kind face of Nurse Redheart poked out from the swinging door. The human was comforted by her soft smile. "Is...is she okay?"
The nurse nodded, pushing the door open. "Why don't you see for yourself, dad?"
Tentatively entering the brightly lit maternity room, he can see his minty colored lover framed by the white curtains of the hospital bed. Even though her face is glowing, he can tell she's exhausted. Her mane is all frizzed out, her fur matted slightly with sweat. He smiles at her. She's still gorgeous.
Cradling a white blanketed form, Lyra beckons him over. Wordlessly, he reaches for the small bundle, grasping it gently. She was big for a pony child. Parting the blanket slightly, a wave of surprise and shock washes over him. Big hazel eyes stare up at him, as a completely human face greets him from the cozy blanket. She has a sprout of mint colored hair, in homage to her mother. Looking at Lyra for some explanation, she simply looks warmly back at him. 'It was just simply impossible', he thought. And yet here she was, his human daughter. Born from a pony he loved.
Cradling her tiny body to him, the human felt a single manly tear well up. If this was some kind of dream, he wished it would never end.
As he held her, however, a creeping twinge of fear ran up his spine. There was definitely something wrong with her legs. He could feel incorrect bends and joints under the blanket. Looking around, he realized only now the general looks of unease on the faces of nurses and doctors. He reached up with a shaky hand, pulling the blanket aside, eyes wide as he saw the rest of his child.
She did in fact have a human head. Tiny human hands and perfectly formed fingers reached out at the new world in front of her. She even had a tiny human outie bellybutton. But below that, everything changed. Smooth, peach skin gave way to a fine coat of soft fur, matching Lyra's own color. Her legs were like a foal's; powerfully muscled and reverse jointed, ending in soft hooves. He could see the tuft of a tail behind her.
He looked up, finding the maternity ponies averting their gaze. Only Nurse Redheart offered him a comforting smile. There were murmurs of disapproval or shock throughout the ward. Looking over to Lyra, he could only think of one thing to say.
"She's perfect."
The next few years were a blur for our small family. I really wish I could say it passed by like some sort of beautiful dream. But I guess every family has its growing pains. Right?
I couldn’t be any more pleased with Hope. Lyra and I were so worried she would have trouble walking or getting around. Two hooves and two hands don’t exactly scream mobility. She crawled alright in a few months, and was more than a handful during diaper changes. She had powerful pony legs and knew how to use them. I just never got the hang of working around that tail. Guess Lyra was just better at such things.
When she took her first steps at ten months old, I think we both finally were able to breathe. She was positively normal in every way a half pony-half human could be. She awkwardly made her way around our small house on minty green legs, eyes wide with fascination at her unexpected vantage point. I called Lyra over, seeing the tears well up in her eyes as we watched. I playfully scritched Lyra’s back between her shoulders, choking back my own pride at our daughter.
As Hope tottered around the room as only a toddler could do, for the first time in a long time I felt things might end up okay. In her bemused smile anyone would forget their worries.
Lyra was becoming more and more distant though. Every minute I spent getting closer to Hope, I could feel her drifting away. Sometimes I would come home from work, and find her already breaking out the wine, sitting in a sullen mood in a dark kitchen, while Hope played cheerfully nearby. I really tried to deal with it. I tried to keep up the happy family charade. If only for Hope’s sake. But it soon was apparent something was going to change forever for us.
We went to the Summer Sun Festival shortly after. It would be Hope’s first real time out in public. Up until then it had really been only family and close friends visiting. They, of course, absolutely loved her. Lyra’s family was particularly supportive. I get the feeling they had long since thought their slightly odd minded daughter would never find a special somepony. They were so pleased she had found love, they didn’t even seem to mind I was a special some-human. Besides the occasional carefully placed comment about marriage, they were really awesome. They positively adored Hope. She would light up when she saw them every time, in only that special way grandparents that spoil their granddaughter can cause.
Lyra seemed especially apprehensive when we set out that night. She seemed so intent on dressing Hope in as many clothes as she could. Her magic levitated nearly an entire wardrobe of clothes towards me. It was obvious the little girl didn’t want anything to do with it. She was content most of the time running around with nothing at all. After all, nearly everyone she saw was naked anyways, with me being the only exception. I hardly even knew why Lyra bothered getting baby clothes at all. They were highly unusual for pony children and cost a fortune.
After some fussing and some strong placed satyr kicks, I told Lyra to just settle for the white sun dress, and be thankfully we were able to get anything at all on her.
“Fine. You just let YOUR daughter parade around half naked in front of everypony.” Lyra said in a huff, letting the remaining clothes drop to the ground.
“But you’re naked all the time!”
Blushing, the mint pony furrowed her brow slightly at me. “Th…that’s different!”
“Oh c’mon, she’s adorable. Looks at how happy she is to be going to the festival.” I bounced her playfully on my knee. Hope giggled as she looked up at me.
“Just grab her stuff and lets go.” Lyra said as she stormed out.
I gathered up a small diaper bag that had since taken up a new life for hauling her playthings and snacks. She hadn’t needed a diaper for over a month now. She was getting to be such a big girl.
Looking into her hazel eyes I felt my tension leave me. I couldn’t help but smile. “C’mon kiddo. Let’s go try to cheer up mom.”
There was a good crowd for this year’s festival. The weather was really perfect. Even though Celestia was in another town for the festival, you could still tell how excited all the ponies in town got around this time of year. I really couldn’t blame them. It was kind of like our Fourth of July, where they all celebrated the light coming back after the defeat of Nightmare Moon. It always brought back fond memories of the holiday back on earth. There were always lots of good food, cold cider, games, and of course, fireworks.
I wave to Rainbow Dash and a few of her friends. We talked with Bon Bon for a while, all the while Hope clinging to my leg in the large crowd. I doubt she had ever seen so many ponies before.
Honestly it took a while to dawn on me. Lyra was obviously upset. She was barely talking, and hung her head as we picked out a place to lay our blanket. Reaching out, I stroked her silky mane, before scratching her ears gently. “What’s wrong?”
She flopped down on the blanket, legs splayed out awkwardly. She gave me a sad look. “They’re all staring at us.”
I sat down next to her, scratching down her back and to her flanks. I gave her a wide smile. “You never seemed to mind before. Suddenly become self-conscious?”
Lyra just glared at me. “You know what I mean! They’re staring at…her.”
Hope was playing nearby in the grass. She had found a blooming dandelion. Carefully she cupped it, trying not to lose the delicate seeds to an errant gust of wind.
“You never cared about what they thought of us. Why do you care about what they think of our daughter?”
I could feel her sigh deeply as I rest my hand on her mint colored coat. “I just never wanted anything like this. All the time I spent looking for something different; something like you.” She looked up at me, and I could see the sadness in her eyes. “I know I was just being selfish. Even if I’m happy, she’s never going to fit in. You can already see how everypony looks at her. Can’t you hear them talking behind our backs!”
“Why do you care what they say or think?”
“I…I don’t know. For some reason, I just can’t be happy when I think of her growing up. I was awkward enough as a foal, and I was teased constantly. She’s just going to suffer. And it’s all my fault.”
Caressing her neck, I tried to comfort her the only way I knew how. If she needed all my support and attention, I would have given it to her, if it would have been enough. But Hope needed me too. In the waning light of the long summer day, she skipped over to me, bare headed dandelions in her small hands. She lay them delicately on the blanket, as if offering them as a gift. Cradling my daughter tightly against me, I stroked her long, mint colored hair, feeling her burrow deeply into my shoulder.
Suddenly, the fireworks started. They were magically enhanced somehow by the ponies, and even I was amazed at some of the combinations they were able to pull off. The entire crowd broke out in “Ohhhs” and “Ahhhs”. Even little Hope seemed completely caught in their spell. The little satyr that could barely keep her attention trained for a few minutes was suddenly gazing in wonder at the brightly colored explosions for over twenty minutes.
The one thing I couldn’t see were the tears streaming down Lyra’s face. They caught the reflections of the lights as they burst. She choked back her sobs and let me stroke her, our daughter cradled against both our sides.
The next year, we went back to the same hill. Hope wore a sun dress again. We talked to many of the same ponies.
No one asked me why Lyra wasn’t with us.
She just couldn’t take it anymore. A few months after the Festival last year, she told me she was moving back home. There was nothing I could do. The times she took Hope into town, she would come back home nearly in tears, locking herself in the bathroom. She was convinced that everypony hated Hope. There was absolutely no reasoning with her.
Hope has grown so much this last year. She walks confidently now, her pony legs carrying her with a strange speed for her form. I let her hair grow out, and bound it in two poofy pigtails. She really seems to like it that way.
She gathered me a proper bouquet this year of wildflowers, whistling as she skipped around picking them. She tied them with a childish knot with a bit of string from our old blanket, and handed them to me. “I picked you some flowers, daddy!” She beamed at me, presenting her gift.
I smiled a big goofy grin at her, grabbing her up in my arms, tickling her as she shrieked in glee. Cradling her to my body, I hugged her hard, delighting in her squirms as she laughed. Bursts of light quieted us both as she settled back against me, watching the fireworks in wonderment. I sat down, cradling her in my lap. I stroked her back gently as we watched.
Somehow I choked back my tears until she was turned away from me. I held them back to keep her from getting upset. Sure, I may have felt sad for a moment there. But that awful feeling deep in my gut faded quick. Soon I was just holding Hope tight against me as silent tears welled down my face.
I was just so godamned happy.
Lyra was right about one thing. School was rough on her. Seeing her leave that first day, walking away down the path to the single room schoolhouse, she was so happy. I had already explained she would get to meet all kinds of new friends at school. Ponies her own age. After such a sheltered childhood, I really could appreciate how big of a step that was. Hope was so brave about it, too. She just kept telling me the night before about what she was going to do with her new friends.
Seeing her come home upset and near tears was so hard. I really should have expected it. Not knowing what else to do, I just held her for a while, smoothing her wild hair down, cradling her head against my shoulder until it was damp.
“It’s not fair, daddy.”
“Why’s that, my little faun?” I tilted her little head towards mine.
She wiped a human arm across her nose, clearing her dribbling nose. “No one picked me at recess for hoofball. They said I just had two legs and would be way too slow!”
“You’re plenty fast for me!”
Hope gave me a pouty, incredulous look. “You’re not a pony, daddy. You’re really slow already!”
“Hey, that’s going to hurt my feelings.”
“I’m sorry, daddy.” She cradled her head against my shoulder again, welcoming my strong arm holding her tight. “I didn’t mean to.”
We sat like that for a little while, just comforting each other. We had done this many times since Lyra left. At least I still had her. And she would always have me, of course.
“Dad?” She whispered into my white cotton shirt. “Why am I so different?”
I bit my lip. She was only six, but the truth was laid out pretty simply even for a child. I rustled her hair lightly. “Well kiddo, you know your mom was a pony, right?”
“Yah.”
“Well, I’m a human. There’s not many like me around, I guess. So you might never see anyone else that’s just like you, Hope.”
She grasped my shirt tighter with her little hands. I could feel her furry legs latch onto me even harder. A whole new wave of satyr tears wet fell wet against my chest.
“I wish I was just a regular pony. Just like every other pony…”
That really cut deep. It really felt like somehow, I had hurt her at that very moment. Like all of this was my fault. “Hope. You should never say those things. You’re a very special little girl. It’s not a bad thing to be different. There’s all kinds of things you can do that no other pony could ever do. Now come here.” I pushed my knee up, pushing her closer to my face. She looked into my eyes with a tear streaked face, her big hazel eyes wet with sadness. I hugged her tight.
Unfortunately, my words had an unexpected backlash.
My daughter came back the very next day with a ripped dress, scrapes all over her, and a conspicuous hoof mark on her face. She had a large, mischievous grin as she walked in the front door, looking like the cat that ate the canary. Hope confidently put her bag down, whistling a little tune as she washed up.
Hope found she was good at something after all. With her strong pony legs and long, agile arms, she discovered that any pony that made fun of her was easy game in a fight.
Cheerilee, her teacher, was soon calling me on a weekly basis about some sort of altercation Hope got involved in. I know she went easy on me because I was basically a single parent. But I was really ashamed of myself. There was absolutely no one else to blame. Hope had only visited her mother a few times in the last year, and if anything she always came back home hating herself more than when she left. I really wish Lyra didn’t have to be so hard on her. It wasn’t Hope’s fault things were like this.
A half pony-half human from a broken home. Anyone would be expected to be a little dysfunctional.
I really did try. Every free moment I got I would spend time with Hope, meet with Cheerilee, try to meet with Twilight and find some answer somewhere about what to do. Hope just could not be controlled at school. Any time she was separated from me, she became listless and hostile, lashing out at other ponies. Back on earth maybe she could be medicated, but here…
I walked home with her once when she was ten. We had just been to the library, but had to leave when Hope yelled at Twilight and knocked over a shelf. She was getting stronger every day.
“Hope, why’d you do that to Aunt Twilight? I thought you liked her?”
She crossed her arms defiantly, her hair hanging in long strings, covering her face. “She thinks there’s something wrong with me too. She’s just like everyone at school. They all hate me ‘cause I’m different. Even Cheerilee makes me sit in the back every day now.”
“We went over this Hope. It’s because you were naughty. Anypony would get the same treatment.” I tried to reach out for her, tried to comfort her. She never shies away from my touch. But she still felt cold. She didn’t really want to listen to me.
“Momma says no pony will ever like me. She said I’m always going to be different, so everypony will always treat me like a stranger…”
God, I’m glad it’s raining. She won’t be able to see my tears. I pull her to me, hearing her gasp a little as I pull her close, cradling her from the rain, holding her head against my chest. “I’m different too, Hope. And all the ponies treat me fine. You just have to have an open mind. I know not everyone will like me. But some ponies aren’t friends with each other either. Only a few ponies won’t be my friend because I’m a human. And only a few ponies will ever not like you because you’re a satyr.”
She looked up at me with those damned hazel eyes. I’m instantly locked in her gaze. “Daddy…if we’re both different why don’t we just live together. We can be each other’s friend.” She may be crying too. Damn rain…
“Hope, come back here!”
Easier said than done.
It turns out catching a slightly hyperactive thirteen year old with the legs of a horse was slightly difficult. I already knew that, of course. I was just hoping she didn’t.
The only times I could ever corner her to discipline the little devil seemed like times she allowed me to. She would streak through the house, powerful legs springing over my clumsy attempts to catch her. Hope would giggle like a madman when she heard my annoyed grunt at another near miss.
It didn’t help that she stopped wearing clothes nearly altogether. She would wear my old collared shirts, but not much else. I don’t think she knew she was way past the point where a pantless biped should feel shame in their nudity. I had long since given up trying to force her though. Was just not going to happen.
I crested the stairs only to be greeted by her mint colored bum. Little shit was mooning me. She laughed, leaping sideways into her room. Gasping for air, I finally rested against her doorframe. She looked up at me with coy little eyes, her shirt only buttoned halfway up. Her long legs were splayed open widely. I sighed, looking at the ground. “I thought you were going to work on wearing some pants around here…”
She gave me a great big shit-eating grin. “Why, daddy. Are you embarrassed?” She ran a hand down a thigh, but thankfully closed up.
“No…it’s just a lady should be a little more dignified.”
Hope blew a strand of hair out of her face. “Well you’re no fun. Alright, alright, I’m going to finish reading. I would have done it anyways. You didn’t have to get on my case about it.”
“Just like you were going to finish that writing assignment?”
“Hmph, that’s different. You know I’m no good at writing.”
“No excuse.” I turned to walk out of the room. “Maybe I’ll bring you up some of that pie later, okay?”
“Okay, daddy.”
She sure could eat, that was for sure. Hope had grown into a fine specimen of satyr-hood. I, of course, say that based off absolutely no scientific knowledge. Just the overwhelming pride of a father.
I did have to pull her out of school. When she hit twelve her hormones were in full swing, and even the colts at school in the upper grades weren’t safe from her. She had struck Cheerilee once, hard enough to draw blood. There weren’t many options left. It was almost getting to the point that Hope could only go out in public with me. Left alone, there was just too much of a chance something might happen. And I really couldn’t risk it.
It’s okay though. I still have some of my old textbooks. I may not be a genius, but I’m a good enough teacher. And Hope will listen to just about anything I have to say. Hopefully when she matures a bit, she’ll be able to get over her dislike of other ponies. I’ll just have to try harder to raise her right.
We’re reading one of my old books now, A Scanner Darkly. She really likes Sci-Fi. I never could get her to read many pony books. To be fair though, they were generally horrible. The endings were always happy ones, and the plot usually played out predictable and sickly sweet.
Carefully, I cut her pie. It was key lime, one of her favorites. Walking upstairs quietly, I found her laying stomach down, deep into her book. Knocking, I walked over and placed the pie next to her.
“Mind if I sit and read with you a bit?”
“Mmm, nope.” She said absently, stabbing at the pie while she tried to keep reading. I tried to stroke some of the tangles from her hair. She really should brush it more often. As I worked, I could have sworn she was pushing her rump closer against me. In the warm, summer night, the heat from her fur was unmistakable.
“Hope?”
“Hmm?”
“Nothing.”
It happened later that week. The temperature had been almost unbearable lately. I had the whole house opened up, and a cool breeze had finally promised a good night of sleep. I woke in the dead of the night, feeling only the way you can feel when you were having the best night’s sleep of your life and lost it forever. For a moment I just lay there, annoyed, with nothing but the slight breeze pushing away the still, humid air. The normal sounds of night from outside were broken by a slight, subdued creaking. It could have been someone walking across our old hardwood floor. Jolted into alertness, I went down the hallway, flinging open Hope’s door.
It was different than usual. I had walked in before in the summer, only to be embarrassed by a nude satyr sprawled out on the sheets, snoring like a manticore. But now she was bundled up in the covers, nearly completely concealed. Her hair was matted with sweat. I could hear her moan slightly, her whole body shuddering and doubling up. Is my faun okay? Reaching out, I grasped her sheet. “Hope, are you…”
She gasped suddenly, pulling away, leaving me with a sodden white sheet in my hands. Her hand was buried between her mint thighs, soaked and glistening in the moonlight. Her breasts were laid bare in the pale light, perfect nipples erect. She looked at me with her hazel eyes, only now they were clouded and half lidded in pleasure. Only when I lifted the sheet could I smell the scent of her sex, a fresh and minty tinge of her mother, mixed with a muskier odor that was positively human.
Her chest rose and fell quickly in her arousal. I realized I was staring. Blushing, I tossed the sheet back to her, letting her loosely cover herself. “Hope…it’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with…”
“Daddy…” She croaked out. It almost sounded like she was suffering. “I can’t sleep. It’s almost like...like I'm on fire.”
I placed the back of my hand on her forehead. Her temperature was fine.
“No.” She turned a deeper shade of red, if it were possible. “I mean, down there. It just won’t stop itching. It’s driving me crazy.”
“Oh.” I said to her. But really in my mind, I was cursing silently. I knew exactly what was wrong. “Didn’t your mother ever um, talk to you about this stuff?”
She looked into my eyes, almost pleading. “Are you kidding?! Talk to mom about my body?”
“Er, I see your point…”
I think she’s started rubbing herself under the covers again. Her thighs are grinding again slightly. She was crying. “Daddy…what do I do?”
Brain shouting again, making me hate myself for some of the things I'm thinking. There needs to be some option. It’s too late at night, though. I can’t go and get anyone. Deep breath. Alright. I can handle this.
She let out this kind of half moan-sigh. Shit. This is not going to be easy.
“Hope, okay, you know how you’re part pony? Well, we never really knew what was going to happen , but it looks like you got their, um, urges.”
She’s practically panting now. “Urges? What the hell does that mean?!”
“I mean you’re going into heat.”
“Like an animal?!” she thrashed a bit against the bed frame, kicking a hind leg hard against the wall, leaving a hoof shaped impression. “Fucking ponies!”
I reached out to comfort her. Holding her shoulder with my strong hand, I stroked her back. Her smooth skin was damp with sweat. “It’s not so bad. It’s going to be over in a few days. And trust me, you probly would prefer it to the human alternative.”
She still has the sheet on her lower body, but it's long since fallen from her chest. Hope is rubbing herself like crazy now, nearly oblivious of her blushing father. Christ, was this how all teenager ponies were like? Maybe that’s why you hardly ever see any. I pictured pony parents locking horny teenagers up during their worst hormone cycles. Hope's incessant fidgeting brought me back to reality.
Gasping, she looks over at you. “It won’t go away!”
It's my turn to blush a bit, trying to look away, scratching the back of my head. “Just um, you know, finish.” She looks at me with an incredulous look. Okay, maybe one the down sides of home schooling. “Just...keep doing what feels good and you’ll eventually climax. That should help a lot.”
She gives me a frustrated look. “I’ve been…ahh…doing that for over an hour.”
“Okay, um, picture a man in a little boat…”
“What the hell are you talking about?!” She has turned on her stomach now, trying to rub herself on the mattress.
Sighing, I get up. This is probably the single time in my lifetime I ever wished Hope was a boy. “Scooch over here.” She complied immediately, and I finally felt her hot furry thighs against me. Pulling her sheet off, I knelt on the floor. I told myself, ‘Take it easy, this is no different than when you used to give her a bath. Quick little health lesson and then…’
But this was no simple lesson. The soaked sheet gave way to reveal the fully developed thighs of a pony mare, drenched in her minty smelling juices. She was so wet you could see her glisten in the moonlight. I gently pulled her thighs apart. Hope looked down at me with pleading eyes.
I had seen my daughter naked plenty of times. I bathed her, dressed her, and took care of her injuries. But my god, in that moonlight, with the thoughts of Lyra flowing freshly back into my mind, I couldn't see much of my daughter in her anymore. Her sex had a different characteristic to it that I hadn't seen in many years. With her looking at me, with that disheveled hair, distinctively human breasts, so perfect and inviting, coupled with her mother's feminine charms...I was only human, after all.
“Give me your hand.” I whispered. Her dainty fingers cupped my palm, slick with her essence. I guided her down to her marehood. God was it hot. Like mother, like daughter. Shaking memories from my mind, I carefully guided her index finger to her opening, pushing in just enough so I could curve it with my own finger, showing her where to massage her velvety walls. She was so soft and warm. How long had it been? Thirteen years?
Hope moaned, and I felt her wink against our seeking fingers. Her powerful thighs flexed and tried to shut closed, but I held them apart, taking the chance to run my other finger along her exposed clit, rubbing it hard with my thumb. The sudden attention caused her to arch her back, pushing her snatch hard into my hands. Her finger worked away wildly, lubricated by sudden gushes of her precum, dowsing our hands and running down her thighs in rivulets. She was crying now, her other hand massaging her perfect breasts.
She finished fast, worked up the way she was. She bucked her hips against me, lips winking hard against my finger, pushing us out of her love canal. I kept right on rubbing her clit as she thrust against my hand. She wrapped her warm thighs around my hand, gasping as she rode out her first orgasm. Changing to a series of sighs, she settled down on the bed again, moving her furry legs apart to feel the cool breeze upon her.
I look down at myself. I’m covered in satyr cum, sporting an erection hard enough to hammer nails. Thank god I’m still hidden by the bed. I slide over towards the door, standing up so I can hide the almost painful stiffie behind the door frame. “Daddy…” Hope calls over, her voice light and airy. “Thanks. I think I got it now.” She is running a hand over herself, no doubt feeling the tingling sensation that only a powerful orgasm can bring. Sticky fingers push her hair out of her face, pulling it behind her ears. "Dad. You...don't have to go back to bed if you don't want to. You can stay..."
Painful erection pressed against the plaster wall just outside her door, I felt a moment of weakness. But just a moment. I deride myself, looking down at the floor. I can't keep looking at her body without feeling a bit ashamed. It's just her hormones talking. Hope is a good girl. And I'm still her father.
"Go back to bed, my little faun. I think you'll feel a lot better now." I say, closing the door. I can still feel her hazel eyes looked on my through the pine panels.
It's going to be rough falling asleep again.
My Satyr Daughter Can't Be This Cute
The eggs sizzle furiously as I drop them into the old worn iron pan, tiny splatters of hot oil splashing up and threatening to burn my hand. I turn the heat down just a bit. Still need a good hot pan or they won’t cook right.
I grab the milk from the icebox. Some fresh oat bread that Hope made the other day. Plenty of fresh cream butter, and homemade blackberry preserves from the Apples. Along with the eggs, I can put out a pretty good spread for breakfast.
Loud clops upstairs let me know Hope finished with her shower and is coming down.
This was going to be an awkward breakfast.
My daughter comes around the corner smoothing her hair out, fastening it with her hair clips. Apparently she decided to put on a small cotton shirt, and nothing else. Why can’t she just wear some damn pants? She has the silken look to her fur that ponies only have right out of a light rain or a fresh shower. Looking positively radiant, she beams when she sees breakfast.
“Daddy! You made breakfast!” She trots over cheerfully, tail swishing from side to side in happiness. Hope gives me a great big hug. I hesitate for a moment, hands slowly clasping around her waist. I pat her on her head.
“You better eat up before it gets cold.” I said as I turned off the gas to the stove. Joining her, we ate for a few moments in silence. I really didn’t know how to bring this up. But it had to be done sometime…
“Hope?”
She looked up with cute, wide eyed expression, a bit of jam stuck to her upper lip. “Hmm?”
“Did you sleep okay last night? Er, I mean, after you, you know…”
The teen slurped a bit of egg off a chunk of toast, blushing slightly. She gave me the old sly smile she had ever since she was a child. “Slept like a baby.”
Her demeanor was completely different today. Rather than the carefree childish way she handled herself usually, there was a certain calculated movement to her today. The satyr teen was checking me out, rubbing delicate hands over her small breasts, pretending to smooth her shirt as rock hard nipples poked through the thin fabric. She was stretching and arching her back, almost trying to show something off. If I didn’t know better, I would swear she was trying to flirt with me.
We finished eating breakfast without saying a word. She finished first, as usual. But unlike other days, when she would bound away from the table so she could go explore the woods, she just sat there. Nursing a glass of milk, she patiently waited until I had finished eating.
Hope helped me clear the table. I carefully placed the few dishes in the sink, as she placed food back in the icebox. Whenever she walked past, I could feel her furry thigh graze my ass, followed by the wispy caress of her tail.
“Hope…” I said, turning around and motioning towards a chair. “I think we need to talk.”
Almost eagerly she sat down at the now empty table. I poured a cup of coffee. I sure as hell needed it today.
“First off, we’re not ever going to tell anyone about last, right?”
She gave me that smirk again. “I won’t tell anyone if you won’t. Although if you ever start dating anyone again, are you sure you don’t want me to talk you up a bit?”
I furrowed my brow. “Not funny. Look…that was a one-time thing, okay? I know how much it sucks sometimes going through your teen years, and I also know how ponies get when they have those…urges. I just didn’t want my little girl to suffer.”
Hope crossed her arms, with an annoyed look on her face. “I don’t see why it’s such a big deal. It felt really nice, when you did it. The last time it happened, I was at mom’s house. I tried everything, but nothing felt like when you used your hand. What’s the big deal, anyways? We live out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“It’s not right. I’m your father, Hope. I’m sposed to look out for you, not take advantage of you. If anyone found out what we did, I could be thrown in jail, or worse. Anyways, things like this, you just have to keep them to yourself. You’ll figure things out.”
Angrily bringing her hands down on the wooden table, Hope’s voice rose a bit louder. “Who cares what any of those ponies from town thinks!? They practically ran us out of town anyways.”
“Hope you know that’s not true…”
“It is true! Mom said she would get kicked out of her house if I stayed there for long. Every pony in that damn town hates us!” She looked up at me, eyes growing wet as she started to cry. “If we can be happy together, why shouldn’t we? You told me before, you probably won’t ever see another human. And I’ll never see another satyr. So why shouldn’t we…”
I just sat there, watching her cry. My heart twisted up at her last words. It was true she would never find another like her. A cruel fate that I had inflicted on her. I got up and walked over to her, rubbing her back as she sobbed quietly.
“You don’t know you’ll never find someone, Hope. Love comes from all kinds of weird places. I bet no one would have thought your mom and I would have ever met, let alone have a kid.”
“Yah, that turned out great, didn’t it?”
Shrugging off the insult, I straightened her hair clip out as I ran a finger through her soft, mint colored hair. “You might find a pony that loves doing all the things you do. Somepony that loves the outdoors, sleeping until noon, and not doing homework?”
She stayed slumped on the table, but at least her crying stopped. “Fat chance. I hate pretty much every pony in Ponyville.”
I chuckled at her. “Now come on. I know for a fact you haven’t met EVERY pony in Ponyville.” Reaching down, I picked up the surprised little satyr, propping her up in her chair. “Now c’mon, let’s do something. I’ll take a day off. We’ll do whatever you want to do.”
Hope noticeably perks up at those words. “Can we go out to the lake? We could go fishing and camp tonight.”
“Well, I guess we could. It’s Saturday tomorrow anyways.” I said, even as I cringed a bit. I really disliked camping. Ever since bad memories as a kid where we would venture out into the wilderness as a family and spend a week in misery so we could have our cheap, shitty vacation in the majesty of nature. And now with the Everfree being so close, there were actually concerns about how safe the woods actually were.
But Hope on the other hand had a nearly insatiable desire to be in the outdoors. Ever since we moved towards the outskirts of town, it was nearly impossible to keep her out of the dense tree cover of the forest. I used to worry about her going out there. That stopped long ago, though. She probably was more at home out there than anyone I could think of.
Maybe the hike to the lake would help me clear my head. I started gathering some things up, as Hope excitedly clopped up the stairs to get her things. The more I packed, the more I assured myself. This was exactly what we needed; to do things as a family. Good, wholesome activities.
Sweating and winded, I look up ahead at my girl bounding through the stony pathways. The sun is out in a cloudless sky, beaming brightly through clearings in the thick canopy. Her bright mint fur flashes when it catches the rays, powerful muscles flexing and easily clearing obstacles in her path. I’m always amazed by how well Hope can get around sometimes.
Being the father, I of course carried nearly all our gear. That was a horrible mistake. Taking a long drink from my water bottle, I brace against a tree to rest. “Hope…” I wheezed. “Come back, I need a…need a rest.”
She was completely out of sight. Rocky piles gave way to a dense tree line of oaks and maples up ahead. She couldn’t have gotten that far…
“Hey daddy!” Hope whispered, poking out from behind my tree.
“Shit!” I cried as I tumbled onto my back, startled by the little satyr. Trying to right myself, I looked up at the little shit, a huge grin on her face. She walked over, and unclipped our tent and her sleeping bag, taking a good twenty pounds off my back. Easily shouldering the load, Hope offers me her hand, helping me up.
“Thanks.” I mumble, following after. She handles the extra weight easily as we continue on. Sometimes I need to remind myself she’s not a little girl anymore.
We actually made good time to the lake. It’s a place Hope and I like to consider our secret spot. I don’t think any ponies ever come this far into the Everfree. But they really should. It reminds me of some scenic landscape you would see in a commercial for Canada or something. The ground is completely clear, with nothing but a blanket of pine needles. Thick trunked conifers blot out the sky above. The shore slopes lazily down to a crystal clear lake, surrounded by rocky outcroppings. It really does feel like a secret when you first come up to it. As if you’re all alone in the whole world out here.
Hope immediately charges the water, hooves splashing happily as she cools off. I have to smile to myself as I start unloading our gear. I make a small fire ring, and pitch the tent. It’s a pretty small one, but it’s damned heavy. Ponies never invented fiberglass or nylon I guess. It’s made of some sort of flexible wood, and heavy oiled sailcloth. I purposely leave both flaps open, since I already can feel how hot it’s going to be that night.
Grabbing my fishing pole, I join Hope near the water. She’s already relaxing on the grassy bank, a red bobber already gliding across the mirror still surface. I cast off, launching my lure deep into the middle of the lake.
Hope looks up with an impetuous glare. “You are such a showoff.” I just chuckled as I sat down next to her, slowing pulling the lure back. I usually went without a bobber at all, since it could sometimes spook fish in the crystal clear water.
She leans her head gently back on my chest as she watches her bobber in the shallows. “Why do you do that, anyways?”
“What, reel it in slowly? Well the lure is meant to look like another little fish. If it just sits there, it doesn’t look very much like a real fish. By doing this I put up a big sign, ‘Fresh fishy here, come and get it!”
I could hear her giggle as she pulled in her own lure. It was designed to look like a little worm. She cast it again, trying to get it deeper this time.
Watching her bobber, I felt a surprise jerk on my rod, as my hook set hard into a fish. Hope jumped up in excitement, as I reeled slowly, testing the size of my catch. It didn’t feel like anything too big. You never really knew though. We used to go swimming in the lake until we saw some kind of ancient Equestrian fish species that was as long as Hope. We mostly stuck to the shallows from that day on.
It jumped a short ways out, trying frantically to break the line. Hope squealed in delight, dropping her own rod and getting ready to haul in the catch. It looked like some sort of a salmon. I have absolutely no clue what some of these fish are even called. But at least they were usually tasty.
Not a whole lot of effort was required to pull it in. It wasn’t nearly as big as my record; some sort of boney catfish that was over three feet long. We ended up trying to use him as bait. Even fried that fish had tasted terrible.
Nimble hands grabbed the line when I pulled him into the shallows. Hope held up the fish triumphantly. It was a good foot and a half long and definitely a keeper. She expertly grabbed the head and removed my hook. “Mmmm, he looks delicious.” Hope said, holding the fish up to her face and looking into its glassy eyes. “Good one!” She dropped the fish in a mesh knit basket we kept in the water for our catch.
As she fawned over the wriggling fish in the basket, I noticed her bobber suddenly pull under. Reaching frantically for her rod, I tumbled into the water, barely grasping the wrapped bamboo handle, feeling a strong pull on the line as it struggled in vain to pull away. “Hope!” I sputtered, trying to find my feet in the rocky lake bottom.
I could hear her gasp as she ran to help, splashing down nearby; she grabbed the rod, giving me a moment to right myself and wipe lake water from my face. She dug her hooves into the lake bed, pulling in the second fish quickly. Completely soaked, I slogged back to shore, wringing water from my drenched clothes. I looked up to see a delighted satyr pull in her catch. It was another boney catfish, about a foot long. She didn’t seem to mind, as she popped the hook from his wide, toothless mouth. Hope held the ugly thing high up, like a trophy.
She brought it back, and was about to place it in our basket. “C’mon, don’t put that thing in there. They taste terrible, remember?” I said, pulling off waterlogged shoes.
“But he’s so cute. How can you hate this face?” She held the offending fish up to me. It looked like an old bullhead catfish, only with multiple whiskers and boney plates on it. It was truly the ugliest fish in existence.
“What are you going to do, keep him as a pet?” I chuckled.
She laughed at that thought. “Sure. We could keep him in the bathtub, right?”
“I am not taking a bath with such an ugly fish.”
The catfish suddenly flopped with unexpected force, its slimy skin slipping out of Hope’s hands. She fumbled for a moment, before the fish dropped into the water, darting into the deeper water. “Aw. I think you hurt his feelings.”
“Hmph, he’s probly used to the other fish making fun of him.” I said as I strung up my shirt on a branch to dry. At least it was a hot day. I settled back against the grassy bank again, flipping my lure into the water.
Hope washed her hands, kicking water free from her hooves as she walked over and lay down next to me. She placed her rod down in the grass, resting her slightly wet hair on my chest, and I reached a hand around her, stroking the top of her head gently. We sat like that for a while in the afternoon sun, just watching my line lazily ebb through the water. I kept running my hand through her minty hair until I felt her become still and loose against me as Hope dozed off. I fished a bit more, not really wanting to catch anything, knowing it would wake her.
I’m glad I took the day off.
We ate like kings that night thanks to a couple good sized trout. I put a little oil in my old cast iron pan, holding it with a towel until it was screaming hot. I put the gutted fish in whole, smiling at the satisfying sizzle as they danced around in the pan. Hope watched with a mesmerized look. She loved watching me cook outdoors.
I took a bag of seasoning and sprinkled it liberally on the fish as I flipped them. Hope took some potato chunks and roasted them on sticks, coating them with plenty of oil. Not quite as good as fries, but it would do.
Eating down at the lake, we watched the sun slip behind a rocky cliff, listening to the sounds of the woods change from day to night. This was one thing I loved about spending time outdoors with her. She could sit and be still when she wanted to. I enjoyed the silence of nature and I sensed she did too.
I felt delicate hands wrap around my arm. “Daddy…do you still love mom?”
There was quickly a knot in my stomach as the simple question hit me hard. A dozen ways to explain this to my daughter washed through my mind. I could always go with the generic ‘Of course’. But that really didn’t seem fair.
“Well…I still do, in a way. She was a great mare, Hope. Your mother was always the most inquisitive, carefree pony I ever met. When others would be apprehensive or scared, she would always be asking questions, trying to figure things out.”
I reached around and held my daughter tighter. I could feel her breathing calmly as I cradled her to my chest. “But I don’t like how she’s acting now. She never used to be bitter against anypony. She was always kind and gentle to every creature she met. And I want you to always remember, I don’t want you to become like that, Hope. Don’t ever close your heart up like that, okay?”
She was quiet for a moment. But then she put a hand on my arm, and spoke quietly, “I promise.”
“Dad?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you think you’ll ever make up with mom? Do you think you’ll ever be able to be together again?”
I really didn’t have to think about that for long. Just the mention of Lyra reminded me of all the time we spent together. When she showed my around Ponyville the first time. The way I slept on her couch for months, and how she asked so many questions about me and where I came from. I remembered the first night we slept together…
“I really would like to, Hope. Someday.”
The night turned humid and warm as we slept in the tent. Sleeping on top of our bags, I had unfurled two flaps so they hung slightly open, but there was no way we could keep the tent completely open, or the bugs would have carried us away. It’s amazing that even here in Equestria they still had their share of annoying, stinging insects. Maybe they just exist anywhere there are sentient beings, just to drive them into a rage.
I had fallen asleep easily enough. But now in the palpable nighttime, I woke to a strange feeling against my body. My legs felt hot and moist with sweat, as I realized Hope had cradled her body against mine, her fur pressed against my bare legs. The air in the tent was musky with the scent of her heat. Humid air made the scent even more pronounced. I was in a virtual sweatbox of satyr pheromones.
As I turned to my side to try to create some room, I realized the reason I had been roused from my sleep. Gentle movements came from Hope as she was moving her muscled thighs against my crotch. She was obviously humping my leg, a serene look on her sleeping face. In a passing breeze I felt a slick wetness between us, and immediately realized her thighs were wet from her actions. She made small moaning noises, perhaps having some teenaged satyr type of wet dream.
Sighing, I push the sleeping girl onto her side, distancing myself from her. I roll onto my side, hoping I can get some rest.
I didn’t expect the small shove to wake her up. I couldn’t tell at first, of course. It was only after a hesitant hand wrapped around my bare chest that I knew she was awake. Staying still, I waited for her to get confortable and fall asleep. But it was not to be.
Slick sliding sounds faintly came from Hope, as I realized she was gently rocking, pleasuring herself not more than a few inches from me. It was fine, I told myself. She was still in her heat. She’d be done soon and we could finally get some sleep.
I could hear her muted gasps as she found the sensitive places I had shown her, exploring deeper than she had ever gone before. In my mind I could picture her rubbing in between those mint colored thighs, teasing herself to climax. Her thighs would rub against me, ever so softly, as she spasmed slightly at the pleasure. The sounds of sex filled the silent tent.
As I waited for her to finish, an unexpected touch wrapped over my thighs. She obviously thought I was still sleeping. Her damp hand trailed over my boxers, fingers still sticky from her sex. She found my rock hard member, a bit of shock felt from her hand as she ran a finger over it. The feeling of human hands on me after all these years, it was…it was…
“Hope.”
She froze, hand still wrapped around my dick, feeling it through the thin fabric. I reached down and pushed her away.
“I thought we talked about this.”
There was lustiness to her voice. She was obviously deep into the lust brought by her body. “Daddy, it’s okay. It’s just us out here. No one will ever know.”
“We’ll know, Hope. And I don’t care what you think, you’ll hate me someday if I did this.”
Her sticky fingers ran up my leg, pulling on the hem of my boxers, trying to drag them off me. “I could never hate you. Just let me see it. I can already tell you want me to touch it. If it gets hard, that means you want me, doesn’t it?”
“You need to go back to bed.” I said, distancing myself as far as possible from her. It seemed to sink in. She curled up slightly, retreating back to her side of the tent. “Hope…goodnight. I still love you, okay?”
She didn’t say anything back. But as I lay there, dozing off in the humid night, I could hear her rubbing herself again. The sounds of wet fur rubbing itself; of a human hand desperately seeking release. I heard her rapid breathing as she finally came.
That’s my girl.
Author's Note
Probly will work Lyra back into the next chapter. Although I'm not sure in which capacity she'll be included.
The next morning, the sun’s rays stream through the trees, reflecting off the mirror like surface of the lake. I woke early, as usual. Hope’s sleeping form is next to me, hair matted to her head, a pillow clutched tightly against her face. She’s dozing quietly, pony like legs twitching occasionally in some distant dream.
Smiling, I opened the flap to the tent, happy to find a cool breeze blowing in through the woods. The wind will keep the worst of the insects away, and hopefully keep the temperature down.
Busying myself, I start breakfast. A bit of water from the lake, and a pouch of flour, powdered milk, baking powder, and other ingredients from home, and I’m in business. A large flapjack is soon happily flipping in our iron skillet.
A small satyr nose twitches in the tent. The smell must be way too tempting. Hope pokes her face out of the flap, her hair unbound now, dangling loosely on her face. She smiles when she sees the pancakes. Bounding out of the canvas tent, she plops down next to me, watching as I expertly flip our breakfast. Offering the finished pancake to her, I motion I’ll flip it to her directly from the pan. She holds out her plate, waiting, eyes as big as saucers.
Laughing, I rustled her hair with my free hand, depositing the pancake gently on her plate. Without saying a word, she smirked at me, gratefully accepting her breakfast. She dug in heartily as I started on my own.
The silence while we eat is strangely comforting. Besides the birds singing in the trees, and soft rustling of leafy branches, both of us enjoy the quiet morning. Hope finishes eating quickly, anxious to enjoy the perfect weather of the fledgling day. Placing her plate down, she tosses her shirt off casually, thick pony legs propelling her towards the still water. Clad only in her panties, she splashes into the clear water, diving when the water reaches her waist. She swims expertly out to the middle of the lake; her powerful legs working just as well in water as on land.
We both enjoyed the day, Hope swimming and chasing the odd fish that would stray into the shallows, me sitting with my old fishing pole, more enjoying her happiness then watching my bobber. The sun was low in the sky when we set off for home again. I thought she would be disappointed, but she seemed to glow with happiness even as we packed our things and tossed dirt on our campfire. Just last year she had pouted the whole way home…
Near dark we reached our cozy little home. Hope trotted ahead with newfound energy, chasing lightning bugs in the thick grass as she frolicked along the path. Just as she crested the hill to our home, she stood stock still, fixated on something in the distance. Initially worried, I forgot my weariness and ran to her, my mind filling with shock at the sight.
Lyra sat near our door, resting on a wood bench, curled up in a ball of minty fur. She hadn’t realized we were back yet. Hope looked up at me with a look of trepidation. It was strange, really. My mind initially brought back all the things she had said to our daughter. I should hate her. But looking into those soft hazel eyes, there was no hate left in my body. I simply grinned at her, nodding. Hope took off like a flash, pouncing on the prone pony, waking her with a giant hug. I could see Lyra startle at the contact, then smile widely, nuzzling the little satyr’s neck.
I suspect if I hadn’t walked up on them, they may have been like that all night. Hope still loved her mother dearly, and they hardly saw each other since we moved. I walked up silently on them, carefully placing my pack down on the porch. It was only by chance Lyra glanced up and saw me, her eyes locking on mine.
“Hope…” I spoke quietly to her. “Can your mother and I have a few minutes alone?”
As if she had forgotten I was there, my daughter jumped backwards, fumbling on her hooves as she tried to scoot around me towards the door. “Oh! Of course, I’ll, um, I’ll put some coffee on, okay?”
“That would be great, honey.”
As she clopped towards the kitchen, I turned towards Lyra. With the light of the entry way on, I could see her clearly. She was a mess. Dusty from the long trip in from town, and an unkempt mane from not brushing it for days. Only in the dim light could I now see her muzzle was streaked with newly shed tears. Her eyes looked at me, nearly quivering from the bench, but still defiant and strong.
Something told me I should let her talk first. We sat in the cooling night air for a few moments, just looking into each other’s eyes.
“I see Hope is doing well. That’s good.” Lyra said, breaking the silence. I breathed a slight sigh of relief.
“She’s really getting to be quite the young lady. I can hardly keep up with her anymore.” I replied with a disarming grin. Lyra was still stoic, looking at me with her featureless face. Unless they’re trying, ponies are so damn hard to read. “What brings you here so late at night? I hope you weren’t waiting long.”
Snorting as only a pony could, Lyra settled her head back on her forelegs, dismissing me. “Only a few hours. I need an excuse to come visit my daughter now?”
“That’s not what I meant…”
I wanted to reach out at that moment and comfort her. Part of me just wanted to feel her warm coat against my hand, and brush her mane until she was putty in my hands. I could feel she didn’t want anything to do with me. The chill in the warm summer night was palpable. Luckily Hope broke the silence with two steaming mugs of coffee. She beamed widely as she gave them to me, twirling and heading back inside. “I’m just going to head off to bed, Daddy. Goodnight, Mom.” She said, Lyra turning to smile softly at her. “You two don’t stay up too late, okay?”
Giving her my best deadpan expression, she giggled briefly and trotted upstairs, leaving me alone with her mother.
Her head still turned from me, I could think of nothing else to do, but walk over and offer the coffee as some sort of peace offering. As I sat down I realized how stupid I must look, fawning over this mare like a little kid.
Tendrils of light green magic gripped the mug, lifting it to her lips. She drank deeply even though it was quite hot.
“I can get you some water, if you’d like that more.”
Lyra placed the cup down carefully, before slowly bringing her gaze towards me. Her eyes were wet with fresh tears, dripping down her muzzle and onto the dusty porch. Her voice wavered slightly as she spoke to me. “You have to tell me truthfully. Have I…I mean, do you hate me? For what I’ve done?”
Looking at her in that moment, all coldness I had in my heart shattered. She was sitting before me now like she was when we first met, so disarming and vulnerable. Lyra had trusted me completely when I had first met her. And it was only now that I realized she never could change that part of herself.
I didn’t have to say anything. Leaning forward, I reached my arms around her neck, clutching her tightly to me. Feeling her nuzzle deeply against my neck, I stroked her mane gently. I could feel wet tears fall on my neck. I didn’t know if she could tell I was crying too.
Hope was asleep already as we crept up into my bedroom. I had offered to sleep on the couch, but Lyra was having none of it. The coffee and cuddling had left me invigorated. The days of constant teasing from my daughter had left me in a near insatiable state, hungry for the caress of a female.
Running a hand against Lyra’s flank, I was met with a swift kick to the shin. Hopping at the sudden pain, I looked at the pony with a puzzled look.
She scowled at me. “What do you think, I’m some two bit whorse? You near abandoned me, and you just expect me to come back, begging to be mounted by some hairless ape?”
Sitting down, I stumbled for words. “I just thought you wanted to…”
I felt magic push against my chest, flipping me from the chair and onto the cold wood floor. A hoof pressed on my stomach with surprising force, sliding down slightly until it rested painfully on my member. Lyra could tell I was already aroused, straining against her hard hoof, seeking access to her more supple body.
“I only came back for Hope, not for you. I only hope you have been raising her right, or I might have to get angry with you.” She pressed down ever so softly, stroking down the shaft and pushing it harder. Her actions only made me harder, increasing my discomfort.
At last I could take no more. I rolled her suddenly, hearing her gasp in shock as I forced her to her back, pushing my weight against her hooves and holding her. Lyra looked at me angrily, lighting her horn to push me off. I read her too well though. Lunging forward, I kissed her deeply, first forcing her lips apart, but soon finding her welcoming me in, intertwining her tongue with mine. Her magic dissipated as she relaxed, putting me completely in control.
I broke away a few moments later, looking into her eyes as she lay splayed out beneath me. “I still don’t know if I can forgive you for leaving me.” She said softly.
Reaching down I kissed her neck. I could taste a light taste of sweat, mixed with the shampoo she always used on her body. I could feel her push against me, inviting me to explore further. “And you’ve been telling Hope nasty things about other ponies not liking her.” I kissed up to her sensitive ear. Nibbling on it, Lyra cooed against my neck as she pushed against me. “Maybe we should just agree to hate each other?”
Lyra had gathered her sense together enough to focus on me. I could feel my pants being undone with her skillful will. The zipper went down, and invisible hands pulled the denim from my body. My fully erect manhood pressed against her soft fur, rubbing between her slightly mounded breasts, the thin cotton of my boxers forming the only barrier between us.
She pulled away for a moment, looking into my eyes with a crazed look of lust that I hadn’t seen in years. “I can live with that.” She whispered.
Her horn glowed, and I felt my shaft gripped in her magic. She clutched it gently, smirking at me as she teased the sensitive skin. I groaned as she tickled the underside of the glans. I could feel myself spasm against the cotton briefs, pushing harder against her warm nethers.
“You’re the one raising Hope now, anyways. If she got any ideas about ponies, who’s to say you didn’t put them there?” Lyra spoke sweetly, as she reached over and licked my neck with her rough tongue, obviously enjoying the look of futility on my face as she worked my dick.
“You…always were such a cocktease.” I murmured as the waves of pleasure wracked my brain, making my whole body stiff against her furry frame. She cooed as she nuzzled her head against my chest, wispy mint mane flowing over my face.
Gleaming white teeth shone in the dim light of the room as she grasped the waist of my briefs, pulling them down with a sultry look in her eyes. My rod sprang free of its prison, a thin stream of my precum splattering on my chest. Now fully nude before her, my aquamarine mare licked her way up my left leg, tongue lapping at my balls before kissing the head of my dick, lapping up my juices greedily.
I knew I wouldn’t last long. Ashamed as I was to admit it, I’d had a case of blue balls ever since Hope entered her heat. Having the only mare I loved before me, literally bathing my shaft with her warm tongue, I could already feel myself thrusting against her, eager for release.
She felt it too. My hand clutched her mane hard, and she squealed in delight as I shuddered against her, cumming hard as she lapped the underside of my shaft with hard, steady strokes. I covered my stomach with cum, the last few spurts decorating her minty muzzle. Lyra eagerly lapped it up, swallowing all she could get. She suckled the tip of my dick, bringing shudders of delight through my body as she worked on the overly sensitive tip.
Looking up at me with cum droplets covering her face, she smiled a wicked grin. “That was quick. Did you miss me?”
I was still panting, finally letting my head rest against the floor as I felt my orgasm subside. “You really have no idea.” I said quietly between quickened breaths.
Getting to her feet, Lyra reached a forehoof between her legs, before offering it to me, drenched in her juices. I licked it for her, tasting her again for the first time in years.
It tasted amazing.
“Are you sure you want to have a filthy human do this? I ruined your life, right?
If her expression changed, she didn’t show it. She left her hoof against my face, letting me lick my way up her leg. “I told you already we were both different anyways. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m done blaming you for how I am.” Reaching my hands up, I massaged her flanks, feeling her knees almost buckle at the unexpected sensation. “Ahhh, st…stop teasing. Just do it already!”
I chuckled at her. “Do what?”
Her eyes were clenched shut as I moved my hands around her flank, fingertips tickling her outer lips. She gasped as she pushed her body against mine. She was practically panting as I teased her. “I…I want them inside!”
“Hmm?” I tickled my index finger against her clit, feeling her wink hard against my palm. The heat from her sex was impossible to ignore.
“I need your fingers inside me!”
Chuckling, I gave her what she needed. Pushing two digits inside, I tickled her sensitive velvet walls, feeling her contract hard, warm mare juices flooding against my palm. I could tell she was lost in ecstasy as she buried her head in my neck, mewling softly as I ravished her with my hand. I pushed her head against mine, her eyes going wide for a moment as I kissed her, her tongue pushing against mine as she got into it. I could feel her breath catch in her throat each time I found her most sensitive spots, drinking it all in as I made out sloppily with her.
Breaking away, she rubbed her muzzle against me, her face flushed crimson as I brought her closer. “I never left because of you. I love you so much. I never could find anyone else like you.” She whispered through staggered breaths.
“I never could either.” I said quietly, stroking her clit hard with my thumb. Her front legs went limp, and her weight fell against my side. I cradled her against me, bracing her with my free arm as she shuddered through a powerful orgasm. Her soft moans were warm against my chest, as her marehood kept spasming for well over a minute against my fingers.
We collapsed on the wooden floor, bodies sticky with sex. Cradling her head against my chest, I just stroked her body, enjoying the feel of her soft fur. Working tangles from her mane, she nuzzled against me, enjoying the afterglow. A stray hoof worked down against my groin, stroking me. It wasn’t long before I was hard again. Lyra just looked up at me and giggled. She hadn’t been like this for years. It was good to have her back, if only for that night, and that moment.
I pushed her on top this time, letting the pony ride me instead. She took me completely, smiling as she felt me fill her. Working slowly at first, the mint mare rode me in the moonlight of the room, her snatch bringing me to ecstasy in no time. The two of us writhed around on the floor, catching up on all those lost years.
So engrossed in each other, neither of us noticed the soft steps of hooves in the hallway, or the pair of hazel eyes watching us intently.
Maybe the greatest gift given to us as human beings is to not understand the whole world around us. With just a bit of blissful ignorance, we can keep on waking up each day, thinking it will be better than the last. I try so hard to hold onto that last bit of naivety. I owe it to her.
One thing I don't think anyone can ever explain is how she came to me. Thirteen years ago something happened that neither I nor anyone else in Ponyville could have ever expected. I guess I should hardly be surprised, looking back, when two lovers do what we did, a child shouldn't be unexpected. But she was a pony after all. It all didn't seem possible.
I had been living with Lyra for as long as I could remember. Ever since coming to this strange world of pastel ponies, she had a childish obsession with me. I still can picture her wide eyed fascination with my somewhat lanky body, as she trotted over and greeted me. Most ponies gave me a wide berth as the only human in the village, but Lyra was always so close. She loved to just be near me, to watch me eat, or just smell my strange scent.
Maybe it was wrong to finally sleep with her. I just didn't know if I would ever be able to return to my old life again. And here was Lyra, fawning over me and dropping not so subtle hints. I would be lying through my teeth if I said I didn't want her. There was a strange eroticism to her features, and soon every meeting and errant touch would drive me into a lust, watching her curved flank and flowing tail as she would trot coyly around the house. I surprised her while making dinner one evening, and she melted into my arms.
It was truly indescribable, making love to a pony. We were together every chance we could get. Her heat cycle made things even more interesting, as she practically assaulted me whenever she could. Nothing ever felt so good, as being so desired and being so able to please my mare.
It was only a few weeks before we became concerned. Lyra was feeling sick in the morning, and had missed her last heat. I really don't know what either of us expected was going to happen. You could have heard a pin drop when Nurse Redheart told us she was pregnant. A million things flashed by my eyes at the news. That this was impossible. That we weren't anywhere near ready to have a kid. That it might be born deformed or some sort of monster.
I know one thing, as I look back. I never would change a single thing. Nothing would ever make me give up my precious Hope.
