Chapter 6: Bourbon's Flight and Fancy

Fair warning: this chapter contains some of the promised naughtiness, right there at the end.

Bourbon limped toward a stream running through the forest. Several gashes in his hide bled freely and his legs trembled with exhaustion. When he was finally able to feel the water rushing over his hooves, he plunged his face into the water and drank deeply. The cool water was soothing on the three horizontal claw-marks across his muzzle, and he thought back on drinking from the creek that ran through his home, back at the other place he had been before, the place where big cats weren't that big. Of course, he had never met a big cat before. He only knew of them from the inherited memories of his species. But he was definitely sure that they weren't bigger than him. At least, he hoped not.

"Lewis," he said. The name had become a mantra for him. Even during the headlong flight through the forest, he had maintained his heading, working his way toward his other, even as the thing that was not a cougar tried to kill him. Three times, the beast had gotten within striking distance. Its claws had raked his left flank, his rear-right thigh, and at one point, it had even managed to get ahead of him, and caught him across his snout. He had kicked at it once, and heard a yowl. After a while, he realized it wasn't chasing him anymore. That was when he found the stream. "Follow the stream," he muttered, "Find Lewis." The fatigue was affecting his mind, but he didn't care. He needed to find Lewis.

He followed the stream for what felt like hours, though his grasp of the passing of time had slipped away. However, after this undefined period of time, the trees parted, and the stream ran free out of the forest. Bourbon sniffed the open air appreciatively. Open ground was, to him, safety. He could run anywhere, as far as he wanted. No trees or fallen logs or pesky rocks to get in his way.

Ahead of him, he saw one of the big things that the others made, the things they lived in. There were lights on in the windows, and he could smell many animals, all of them small, none a source of fear. It was a safe place and he knew from experience that there must surely be others there. Not his other, he was disappointed to note, but surely these others could tell him where Lewis was, especially since he now spoke as they did. Surely, they would help him? He trotted towards the small cottage.

Fluttershy was up late again. Recently she had found sleep elusive. Her mind wandered and her body wouldn't hold still. Her animals were all deep in their own odd little dreams, noses and feet twitching occasionally. She smiled at them. They were so adorable, all of them. Finally, she forced herself to take a seat on the armchair by the fireplace. "Sleep," she commanded herself. Her eyes began to close, and she smiled, sensing her long-overdue rest was at hand.

Her eyes shot open at the sound of hooves on her front porch. "Somepony at the door? At this hour?" she mused, glancing at the old clock on her mantel that read several minutes past midnight (which for Fluttershy was very late indeed). She slowly got up out of her chair, expecting a knock on the door. But there was no knock, just more hoof-steps out on her front porch. "W-who's there?" she asked, becoming nervous.

"Hello?" a deep, resonant voice responded, "Are you one of the others?"

Fluttershy was confused by the strange question. "Um, I-I'm sorry, but, what others are you talking about?" There were a few moments of silence.

"You don't smell like the others. You smell like one of us. But you talk too?"

Fluttershy snorted a little. Whoever this fellow might be, he was funny, and that helped to allay some of her fears. She still wasn't going to open her door for somepony she didn't know. He continued before she could speak. His voice sounded weary, and she became concerned when she heard the pain behind it.

"I'm sorry, I think I have the wrong place. I'll just be going . . . ."

"Well that was certainly odd," she said to herself, ready to let the whole thing go at that. Then she heard a loud thump from outside, like something very large had fallen over. Then silence.

"Oh dear!" she exclaimed, leaping up and going to the door, her fear forgotten, replaced with worry that somepony might need her help. She was not the Element of Kindness without reason.

There before her was a rather handsome pure-white stallion, lying quite unconscious in a most awkward position, his legs tangled in the railing and his head resting on the bottom step. She gasped when she saw the extent of his injuries. The red stains that surrounded the cuts made a harsh contrast on his pale coat. The damage had been exacerbated by some terrible exertions, and the wounds had reopened. "Oh no! Oh you poor thing," she said, moving to cradle his head in her lap.

She noticed that his head, along with the rest of him, was quite large by pony standards. His stature was at least the equal of Big Macintosh, Applejack’s big brother, for whom Fluttershy had long harbored a secret crush. If anything, he was somewhat larger, and Fluttershy was quite certain she had never seen anypony with a more toned musculature.

Nevertheless, it was shocking to her that anypony in his condition could have been walking anywhere. She moved to wake her animal companions. Fluttershy directing the effort, they all worked together to move the unconscious behemoth inside, where they gently laid him down on a rough nest of blankets and pillows by the fireplace. Fluttershy then quickly moved to find her medical kit.

She doubted he would survive long enough for her to fetch help. Thankfully, this wasn't the first time she had performed emergency first aid. The sight of blood would ordinarily unnerve her, but his life was in her hands. Fluttershy stood over him at last with her implements readied. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then set to work.

Bourbon woke with a start. The pain of his injuries had dulled, and he felt warm and safe. Something was wrong, however. He looked around, not quite comprehending where he was. He had been walking, and made it out of the forest, and then . . . . At last, he connected the dots. He was inside. Not like inside the big barn where he had weathered cold winters in the past. This was a different inside, like the places where the others lived, except it didn't smell like the others.

"Oh hello," said a sweet little voice from behind him, "I'm soooo glad your awake, I was worried when you collapsed outside last night."

He twisted to look at the speaker. It was a cute little pony, but the color of her mane was wrong. Manes weren't supposed to be pink. But that wasn't what really got his attention. The shocker was the pair of small wings on her back. "Bird-horse," he said, staring.

"Hmm?" Fluttershy followed his gaze to her back, and the wings that she had been stretching after waking. "What's wrong? H-have you never met a Pegasus before?"

He shook his head. "We aren't supposed to have wings. Birds have wings, they're supposed to. But not us."

He regretted his words, instantly. The poor pony looked hurt, sniffling and holding back tears. "They're pretty though," he said quickly, hoping to correct the damage his rudeness had done, and finding that what he said was really true, they were quite pretty.

She perked up at this. "T-thank you," she murmured in the quiet voice she often resorted to when receiving compliments, and then blushed deeply.

Bourbon smiled, not really sure why he did so but feeling it was the appropriate response. "I'm Bourbon," he said, again feeling that telling her his name was the correct thing to do. "I'm afraid I've gotten lost, and I don't know where I am. Well, actually until last night, I didn't even know who I was. Or that I was. And I'd never really looked at the stars. The last day has been really strange, actually."

Fluttershy wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. He didn't know who he was? What did he mean by "that he was?" She was so confused. "Um. . . Okay, well, it's nice to meet you Mr. Bourbon. My name is Fluttershy. If you're hungry, I could get you something to eat . . . ."

"Thank you but I think I can move now," he said, slowly pushing himself up, "and there's plenty to eat outside."

"Okay," she said, even more confused than before as Bourbon walked through the door and outside. She followed him, curious as to what he meant. She watched as he moved slowly, favoring his injured leg, to stand amidst the grass in her front yard. Then, to her shock, he lowered his head and began to graze. She couldn't look away from the bizarre spectacle. She knew from her school days that in ancient history, primitive ponies had eaten in just this way, taking the grass straight from the ground. But they had evolved the culinary arts so far since then! It wasn't as though you couldn't eat the grass, of course, but unless you were starving . . . .

"Um, Bourbon, you don't have to do that," she said. He looked up, chewing.

"Hmm?"

"Why don't you come back inside and let me make you something?"

Bourbon had no idea what Fluttershy might be talking about, but he thought it best to avoid being rude any more. This might be her private grazing patch, after all, and he knew that some of his kind preferred to have their territory left undisturbed. So, rather than argue the point, he came inside, curious as to what his gracious host intended.

"What is it you called this?"

"A dandelion and clover sandwich," said Fluttershy as Bourbon devoured his lunch. Apparently, he had never heard of such a thing as food that required preparation.

"I've always simply eaten the grass, except when Lewis or Joe gave me oats," he told her, "But this is much better than that, even than the oats. Not quite as good as carrots or apples, but still wonderful." That gave him a dreamy, far-away look. Apples were a long-standing favorite of his. Even before his arrival in this new place, he could recall being very excited when someone offered him an apple. The taste was not at all forgotten to him.

"Bourbon, you said before that you don't know where you are, is that right?"

He nodded. "Everything here is so different since I fell out of that strange light that left me out in that forest. It isn't at all like home."

"A strange light? Oh my. Well, you’re at my home, which is on the outskirt of Ponyville."

"Ponyville?"

She pointed out her window towards a small collection of buildings in the distance. "It's a small town. We're almost smack-dab in the middle of Equestria. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else though."

"Equestria?"

"Oh goodness."

"I'm sorry," said Bourbon, "I know that I'm not making much sense but I really don't have any idea where I am."

"Maybe you should start from the beginning," said Fluttershy.

"Alright," said Bourbon as he consumed the last bite of his sandwich, "It all started sometime yesterday. Lewis and I were out because he and Joe had to fix the fence-line . . . ."

It was mid-afternoon before Bourbon finished explaining the events that had led to his arrival on Fluttershy's doorstep. For the most part, she listened quietly, occasionally asking for clarification on some point. Bourbon answered to the best of his abilities.

When he tried to explain who Lewis was, he told her, "He is my other. He takes care of me. He is good to me. He listens to me when I know something is wrong, and I listen to him, although I never really understand it all. I can't remember when he was not my other. Sometimes, like now, he goes away. Normally, I just wait with Joe, but this time was different somehow. So I followed him. I think it took me longer to get here. I don't know what else I can say about him."

But Fluttershy knew exactly what to say. "He's your friend."

"Friend?" Bourbon asked.

"Yes," said Fluttershy, nodding, "Your friend. You care about each other, help each other. I don't know what this 'others' business is about. I suppose you mean he's not a pony. Or horse, as you say." Bourbon nodded, confirming her suspicions. "Regardless," she continued, "A friend is somepony, er, somebody that talks to you, and takes care of you, and you take care of them. I know because I have some very special friends that live here in Ponyville."

"Yes," Bourbon said slowly, "Yes that word feels good. Friend. Yes, Lewis is my friend."

The look of pain and loneliness on his face was more than Fluttershy could bear. She moved so swiftly that Bourbon had no time to react other than a surprised grunt as she brought her lips to his. He sat there, frozen. When she gently withdrew, blushing furiously, he looked at her astounded. "What was that?" he asked.

"Oh, um," Fluttershy mumbled, "A kiss."

Bourbon inhaled, and caught the intoxicating scent of a mare in heat. He felt his anatomy begin to respond, but restrained it. "What does that mean?" he asked.

Fluttershy's blush darkened and her voice grew even quieter, rendering any response unintelligible. Bourbon didn't need to hear the words though. He could smell what she wanted. "Fluttershy," he murmured, using a foreleg to press her body against his. She was so small-looking, so fragile. It made him feel protective, but somehow also aggressive. She offered no resistance. "I would mate with you," Bourbon said, looking down into her eyes. Fluttershy saw the absolute and simple sincerity in Bourbon's expression.

"Not here," she said, suddenly noticing that her animal friends were staring. She pulled away from him, guiding him toward the stairs, and her bedroom. Bourbon followed without question.

Fluttershy and Bourbon kissed again. The bedroom was small and cozy, the bed itself large and soft. They continued to kiss as he pushed her down onto the mattress. He enjoyed that, the kissing. He had seen Joe and his female doing it sometimes, out by the barn. They had mated there too, but it was the kissing that had confused the stallion. If they wanted to mate, why did they spend so much time doing something that was not mating and not eating? Of course, he hadn't had the words at the time to express that confusion, and had taken to ignoring them.

Now, he thought he understood better. It was an intimate and comfortable experience. On her back, with the stallion looming over her, Fluttershy became bolder, parting her lips. To his credit, Bourbon didn't hesitate, his tongue pressing into her mouth. He tasted her, exploring her contours slowly.

Bourbon had mated often before. He had some preconceived notions of how it was supposed to go. That afternoon, Fluttershy shattered some of them. As he kissed her deeply, he became hard, and she quickly noticed his member pressing against her stomach. She looked down, then looked back up at him and grinned.

Rather than turn over so he could enter her from behind as he was accustomed, she remained on her back, and spread her legs. He looked down at her, confused. "Like this?" he asked.

Fluttershy nodded. "Please, gently. . . ."

Bourbon considered that statement. He had never had to consider how rough he was when he mated. It had never occurred to him what the mare might want, but he had no problem obliging.

Fluttershy noticed his hesitation. "It's just that I've never done this before."

Bourbon had no idea what that had to do with anything, but decided better than to object. If the mare wanted gentle, he could handle that. He lined himself up carefully, and slowly pressed the tip against her folds. She shivered, but didn't tell him to stop.

As Bourbon pushed his shaft inside her, he felt resistance. Fluttershy held him close and pressed her face into his shoulder to hold back a cry of pain. He pushed harder, and for the first time, was in a position to notice the blood leaking out around his cock. He was horrified that he might have hurt Fluttershy after she had been so kind to him. "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It’s okay," she cooed to him softly, "Just don't move for a minute, 'kay?" He nodded and held his position, which was difficult because for all his worry that she was in pain, he had never felt better. She was just amazing! He had never taken such joy in a mare before!

Fluttershy was dealing with some intense feelings of her own. She had never done anything even remotely like this. It was so out of character for her! But when she had seen this big, tough stallion feeling alone and vulnerable, it was more than she could stand. Wanting him felt right. Some ponies were strict about relationships. One stallion, one mare, marriage and kids, but Ponyville was an example of a tolerant community where alternative lifestyles were concerned, so a simple fling was not likely to be a cause for scandal.

It wasn't as though Fluttershy was waiting for anypony in particular either, she was just so shy, and all the stallions tended show their attention to Applejack, Rarity, or Rainbow Dash. Even Pinkie Pie had her share of suitors. But not today. Today she had Bourbon all to herself. And what a catch! He was handsome, strong, yet gentle and so caring towards her!

Still, this was her first time, and she was giving herself to a pony she had just met. It hurt, but she had known it would hurt, and she could already feel the pain beginning to wane, replaced by something else, a tingling, and a voice in her head that said, "Keep going."

She only realized that she had actually spoken aloud when Bourbon pushed more of his considerable length and girth inside her. This time, there was less pain, and more of that tingling, which was beginning to feel especially good. She opened herself to accept him fully.

Bourbon caught the signal and began to pump slowly, out a little, in a little. He felt the warm wet depths of Fluttershy's body envelop him. She was breathing hard now, but it wasn't the harsh rasp of pained endurance. No, she was starting to get properly into the moment now. This excited Bourbon further, and he began to pump more, almost pushing his entire length inside. "Wait," she said, gasping hard suddenly. He was about two inches short of complete immersion. "I can't take any more in. It's too big."

Not wanting to quit, but utterly unwilling to hurt her, Bourbon nodded his assent. He continued pumping, careful to give her about an extra inch margin of safety. It was still the best thing he'd ever felt. Suddenly, he felt her inner walls compress around him. She cried out, but for a different reason.

Fluttershy felt her mind disappear on a wave of pleasure, a new feeling more intense than any she had ever known. It was beyond the small, insignificant little orgasms she had known in the past when she had masturbated. Even the time she had hidden in the trees of Sweet Apple Acres and watched Big Macintosh work as she pleasured herself could never compare. The vortex of impossible pleasure that emanated from her soaking, newly-stretched pussy swallowed her whole and spat her out on the other end of a brief oblivion, with a throat soar from screaming her happiness to the heavens. For a moment, she thought it was over.

Then she noticed that Bourbon was still going. Still pumping as if he had noticed nothing. She wanted to stop him, to tell him the wonderful thing that had happened. Then she looked him in the eye, and saw the recognition in his expression. She didn't have to tell him a thing. He knew. And in that moment, they loved each other for it. That was when she realized that the feeling was surging again, surging larger and harder than before, the last of the pain gone and forgotten. She felt the beginning of his climax as she built toward her own. The first orgasm was like being able to see after a lifetime of blindness. This was like her first time seeing in color. She opened her mouth in a soundless, choked scream, emptying her lungs in a gasp.

Bourbon felt his seed as it proceeded down his shaft in an inexorable advance. Nothing could stop it, and he didn't want to. He looked at Fluttershy. Sweat glistened on her face and her wings were spread wide, giving her a vaguely angelic appearance. Her eyes were wide as she tried to scream, and it was the final straw for him. With a shudder, he released everything he had.

Fluttershy was about halfway through her orgasm when she felt the hot sticky sensation fill her, pouring into the deepest reaches of her anatomy as Bourbon pumped his essence freely. It pushed her to new heights, and for some time, she could no longer tell if she was having a single long orgasm or many over and over. The two spent several long moments like that, both frozen in place as they enjoyed there completion.

Bourbon finally pulled his spent member from her, making a sticky sucking sound as she released him. He collapsed beside her, and she curled up to him, nuzzling his neck. "Thank you," she said, and the sound of her voice was sweet and sincere.

He held her close, and whispered in her ear, "No. Thank you." These words seemed to be sufficient, and they lay there on the bed in silence, until they fell asleep. Bourbon didn't even have the energy to marvel at his first time sleeping in a bed.

Author's Note

I have no idea if my ability to write clop is up to par or not. I add it because some of you like it. Some of you don't. I respect that. I ask that everyone respects everyone else's right to be as perverted or as chaste as they please in their preference of reading material.