Fiddling Some Apples
Digital_Hex
“Woo-wee!” Braeburn cried as he wiped the sweat from his brow, looking across the field. Another hard day's work, all finished. The setting sun cast shadows across the freshly-plowed fields of Appleoosa. The day was done, the work completed. Now he could rest.
“Looks mighty good, Brae-brae!”
Braeburn froze as he heard her voice approaching him. A faint flush of pink flooded his cheeks as his frame locked up, and he couldn't help but release a nervous chuckle.
“Well, uh- howdy there, Fiddlesticks!”
Out of the corner of Braeburn's pistachio eye, he saw his cousin trot into the very edge of his vision.
“Brae-brae, how many times have I told ya? Call me Fiddle!”
Braeburn gulped as his cousin batted her eyes at him, the arctic blue gemstones twinkling playfully. She was such a flirt.
“Mah bad, Fiddle,” Braeburn sputtered before returning his gaze forward, back to the fields. The sun at their backs, the two were soon cast in their own shadows that lay before them.
“Wait- Fiddle?!”
Braeburn spun around, half expecting this to be a joke of some sort.
But lo and behold, there she was; his beautiful cousin, standing before him in all of her glory. Her yellow coat hinted off even the slightest of greens from beneath, her heavy cobalt mane styled as beautifully as ever. She still wore her white stetson as proudly as ever along with her red neck-tie, although she had obviously chosen to eschew any of the many shirts she was commonly seen wearing. Even her cutie mark, a brilliant cyan treble clef.
Something that struck Braeburn as odd, though, was the lack of her signature violin. She always had her violin with her, always. Why wouldn't she have her violin with her now?
While he had been questioning her lack of a violin, Braeburn's eyes had instead remained glued to Fiddlesticks' rump, something she'd noticed.
“Uh, Brae-brae? My eyes are up here-” she started, but stopped when she realized Braeburn wasn't paying him any attention. She sighed, rolling her eyes.
“Brae-brae?” she accentuated, waving her hoof at him. Braeburn snapped back to reality, shaking his head furiously.
“F-Fiddlesticks! It's good ta see ya!” he said, face red. Desperate to try and make the situation any less awkward than it was, he took a step towards her and swung his hoofs around her neck. Fiddlesticks squeaked as Braeburn pulled her into a tight hug, but returned it nonetheless.
“When did ya arrive here in Appleoosa?” he asked excitedly, even managing to keep from singing out the name of his town.
“Just... now... can't... breathe!” Fiddlesticks gasped, choking for air. Braeburn flushed, releasing his dear cousin. She fell to the ground, sputtering. Braeburn facehoofed. It was so like him to panic and do something like that.
Braeburn nervously shifted his hat upon his head while Fiddlesticks regained herself.
“Ah'm sorry, Fiddlesticks, ah just... haven't seen ya in a while! Yeah, it's been a while!”
Fiddlesticks cocked an eyebrow at her cousin.
“It's only been a couple months since the last family reunion, Brae-brae.”
“Too long!” Braeburn repeated, a pained smile on his face.
“Brae...” Fiddlesticks said, letting herself smile softly. She knew how hard he was trying. She still remembered that night...
“So, uh...” Braeburn stumbled, getting caught on his words, “that is, have ya seen pa and let him know you're in town?”
“No,” Fiddlesticks, leveling her gaze on Braeburn. “I haven't seen him yet.”
Braeburn gulped as Fiddlesticks narrowed her eyes at him, a soft smirk adorning her lips.
“Well, ah...” Braeburn stuttered, but swallowed hard and decided to address the elephant in the room.
“Look, Fiddlesticks-”
“Fiddle,” she corrected.
Braeburn sighed. “Fiddle, about that night...”
He coughed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Ah mean, that wasn't quite right of me, and ah... well...”
Fiddlesticks giggled before rushing forward quickly, closing the distance between the two. An instant later, Braeburn felt the warm brush of her lips against his, short enough to be swift yet just enough to leave quite a longing for her touch again, and she retreated.
“Brae-brae,” Fiddlesticks said with a chuckle, “we'll talk about that later, m'kay?”
Braeburn nodded, as if in a trance.
“Good. Now let's go see your pa!”
Fiddlesticks took one of his hooves in her own, leading him after her.
Braeburn's face was bright red. Memories from that night almost a month ago rushed through his mind. The passion. The shame. The thrill. The lust. The humility. The joy.
“Fiddlesticks-” Braeburn began, but coughed and corrected himself. “Er, ah mean, Fiddle, ah appreciate that ya want to talk about it, and you're willing to wait for it and all, but...”
Braeburn felt himself slow down as they approached a small grouping of structures. Braeburn's little home was next to a wash house and one of the supply sheds around the farm. They were a good couple of minutes from his pa's actual home, a home he hadn't lived in for almost two years.
“... but?” But what?” Fiddlesticks asked, confused.
Braeburn swallowed again. His throat was getting scratchy and dry.
“Ah... ah think we should talk about it now.”
Fiddlesticks felt her face flush briefly before she calmed herself.
“Oh, um... if that works best for you,” Fiddlesticks admitted, “then I suppose we could talk about it now.”
Braeburn gave her a thankful smile before taking his turn to lead her towards his little shack. She followed willingly, entering his small abode.
The interior of the home was simple and calm. The bedroom and kitchen area were melded together, with a fireplace tucked into a wall away from the rather large bed. A door led to the bathroom, and two windows adorned the home's walls. There were many pictures of Braeburn and his family along the walls as well.
Braeburn motioned to his bed while he politely pulled up a seat for himself from the small table in the room, taking a seat facing Fiddlesticks.
Fiddlesticks felt her cheeks heat up again as she took a seat on the edge of Braeburn's bed. The last time she'd been in a situation similar to this with him...
Her cheeks flared red as she struggled to remain calm.
“So, um...” Fiddlesticks started, shifting a hoof to rub her other leg.
“Fiddle,” Braeburn said before clearing his throat, scooting his chair a little bit closer to his cousin. He opened his mouth to talk, but stopped, frowning. He scooted his chair slightly closer, but continued scowling, looking down at the chair.
Fiddlesticks huffed to herself as Braeburn began working around the chair, shuffling it forward in slight increments while focusing very hard on the exact distance traveled each time. After a full minute of this, she groaned, throwing up her hooves.
“Braeburn!” she yelled, getting the farmer pony's attention. Braeburn blushed when he realized he was less than a half-pace from Fiddlesticks.
“S-Sorry,” he muttered before clearing his throat. “A-Anyways, uh, we need to talk about that night,” he said nervously.
“I suppose we do,” Fiddlesticks agreed.
“So, uh...” Braeburn stuttered, looking away from Fiddlesticks. In the back of his mind, he could still remember bits and pieces from that alcohol-fueled night, could smell her arousal, could even hear the cute squeaks she made when he-
Braeburn shook his head, ridding himself of the thoughts. Or at least trying to, at any rate.
“Ah... Ah need to apologize for that night,” he admitted. “Ah shouldn't have let mahself do something like that to ya, Fiddles.”
He hung his head in shame.
“Ah'm sorry.”
Fiddlesticks looked at her cousin. He was a strong pony, independent enough to want to build his own home as he did, but sensitive enough to care about his family. He was friendly to be around, and was quite the considerate stallion.
She, too, could remember that night at the reunion. The hard apple cider busted out, they were a few of the many ponies to get just a little more than tipsy. They were the only ones to... go that far, though... in Apple Bloom's bed, no doubt...
“Brae-brae,” Fiddlesticks sighed, leaning forward. She grasped one of Braeburn's hooves within her own, eliciting a jump of surprise from him.
“You... you know, uh...”
She swallowed hard before closing her eyes and letting it all out.
“I didn't do it because I was drunk.”
Braeburn hissed through his teeth. This was bad, this was really bad. What happened was just supposed to have been the result of too many drinks, not... not what it was turning out to be.
“I...” Fiddlesticks continued, “I did it because I... I wanted to... with you, I mean...”
Fiddlestick's face was blazing crimson now. She could hardly believe she'd just admitted that to Braeburn.
The silence that hung in the room was thick. Fiddlestick's rapid, shallow breathing was accentuated by the slower, measured breath of Braeburn. The atmosphere was blatant as to where it was heading.
“Fiddlesticks,” Braeburn said as he leaned forward, taking her hooves with his own so they were holding them in a more traditional sense, “ah... well, it was kind of the same with me...”
Braeburn chuckled nervously.
“Ah suppose both of us just played the other for quite the fool, huh?”
“It seems that way,” Fiddlesticks breathed. Slowly, so very slowly, she leaned back. She half-expected Braeburn to pull away, to leave her.
She was pleasantly surprised, though, as Braeburn followed her.
The violin-playing pony continued leaning back until Braeburn towered above her, practically pinning her against his bed. A swift shake of her head tossed her hat away from her head. Braeburn took note of this and made a similar action, his hat resting next to hers on the floor.
“Fiddles, ah...” Braeburn breathed in sharply. “Ah... Ah love ya. A lot. Ah really do.”
Fiddlesticks giggled before she craned her neck forward, meeting Braeburn's lips with her own. The room heated up as their bodies brushed against each other, Braeburn pressing against his cousin while she wrapped her hooves around his neck, pulling him closer.
They melted into each other. Nothing else needed to be said. No apologies, no conversation, nothing. Braeburn slowly shifted in his position, removing his jacket from his body. Tossing it towards the hats, he wrapped his hooves under Fiddlesticks and pulled her up ever so gently until they were sitting directly in front of each others, lips still locked.
There was no war of the tongues, no sloppy gasping. It was a kiss, a simple one. But it held more meaning to either of them than any night could have.
Unless they were willing to change that.
Braeburn's eyes shot open as he felt Fiddlesticks' hoof brush against the inside of his thighs, rubbing precariously close to his no-no zone.
Immediately, he cracked under the nerves. Pulling away from Fiddlesticks, he grabbed her hoof with his own.
“F-Fiddles! What're ya doing!”
Fiddlesticks giggled before shaking her hoof free of Braeburn's pathetic grip and working it even closer towards her intended destination.
“I think we both know what I'm doing, Brae-brae,” she giggled, batting her eyes at Braeburn. Her face was bright red, however, and her hoof was ever so shaky; she was nervous, and her bold move had taken quite the bout of confidence for her to attempt.
Braeburn noticed a few of those things. Namely the batted eyes. Actually, that was the only thing he noticed. He was a simple pony.
“Ah- well, ah mean-”
“Shhh...” Fiddlesticks whispered, shushing him with her lips as she pressed home with her hoof. Upon contact, Braeburn tensed up considerably, back tightening up and locking in place. He hissed through his teeth, placing a steadying hoof on Fiddlesticks' shoulder.
Fiddlesticks let her hoof rub against the base of Braeburn's fully erect member, gently applying pressure as she drug it along his shaft. Running her hoof along his stallionhood, Fiddlesticks gave Braeburn another kiss, brushing the tip of her muzzle against his.
“What say we do this right this time?” she whispered. Braeburn moaned softly while nodding.
Lowering her torso, Fiddlesticks repositioned herself so she was lying down right in front of Braeburn, head-to-head with him.
Fiddlesticks leaned forward, taking in the sight of his cock. It wasn't huge, but it was an impressive steed, quite the treasure. And for the next short while, it was hers.
Closing her eyes, she let her tongue slide against him, tasting his musk. She liked it.
Braeburn winced in agonizing bliss as Fiddlesticks ran her hot tongue along his member, already feeling like he was going to explode. The sensation was... insane.
Fiddlesticks looked up and giggled to herself when she saw Braeburn toss his head back, braying slightly under his breath. He was enjoying this.
Deciding to be a little more adventurous, Fiddlesticks leaned forward even more until she was lapping at the tip of Braeburn's flare.
Braeburn's mind went crazy. The moist, hot lathers against his ticklish flesh made his mind wriggle in a cross between agony and elation.
As soon as she enveloped him with her lips, though, he knew he wasn't going to hold out much longer.
She was glorious with her mouth, letting her tongue swish around the tip of his erection as she forced more and more of his throbbing dick between her lips. Braeburn felt his hooves move on their own will, reaching up to rest agains the back of her head as he leaned forward. The pressure mounted in his loins was staggering, amplified tremendously so as the tender flesh between his legs was stimulated beyond belief by the disturbingly talented mare.
Time escaped Braeburn as he found his load about to blow. He tapped Fiddlesticks on the side of her head, hoping she'd get the message.
A quick POP! and Fiddlesticks removed him from her throat, coughing slightly as the cool air invaded her lungs once more. Instantly, the cool air edged down the wanting release from Braeburn, but not by much. He was still close, very close. It was her fault for being so damn good at giving head.
“Y'alright there, Brae-brae?” Fiddlesticks asked, giggling. Her throat was slightly sore from being stretched.
“Y-Yeah,” he gasped, legs spread apart awkwardly as his raging boner reached for the sky, Fiddlesticks' saliva glistening against the mottled appendage.
“Just... almost blew mah seed down yer throat...” he huffed, not realizing quite how stupid he sounded.
“Oh my...” Fiddlesticks whispered, but didn't have any more time to elaborate on that before Braeburn had lurched forward, flipping her around and diving his muzzle into her nethers.
“B-Braeburn!” she gasped as his tongue penetrated her, lapping between her labia. Her body squirmed as his tongue slithered inside her, flexing between her sensitive glans.
“Brae!”
Fiddlesticks was a sensitive mare in bed. Today was no exception. Every time Braeburn so much as wriggled the tip of his tongues, wave upon wave of pleasure sparked through her body. She moaned loudly as her hooves shot towards Braeburn's head, pressuring him further into her.
Braeburn worked away, hardly breathing at all as he continued pleasruing the mare before him. She cooed to his touch, wriggling with every motion. Her insides were tight and hot, moist and dripping in arousal as he lapped her up. She wanted him, he wanted her.
Braeburn let himself nibble along her clit, rubbing her flanks with his hooves. Fiddlesticks squeaked as she felt another ripple emanate from her.
“B-Braeburn...” she whispered, “I want... I want it...”
Braeburn obliged, slowly forcing himself up into a sitting position before falling forward, tickling the end of her muzzle with his own.
“Are ya... y'know-” he began, but was cut off as Fiddlesticks thrust her hips up to meet his, begging for some action. Braeburn smirked as he leaned down to peck her on the lips.
“As ya wish.”
He lined himself up, prodding her lips with his head, running them up and down each others, teasing Fiddlesticks, letting her want him. She squeaked as he pressed against her entrance, only to slide up and over it.
“Braeburn!” she growled, eyes narrowing. Braeburn gave her a sheepish grin. She rolled her eyes, reaching down with a hoof to guide him-
She squeaked shrilly as he penetrated her, slowly filling her with his meat. Her walls expanded, the pressure building up inside ridiculous. Moments later, she couldn't help but feel... full.
Braeburn winced as he felt the visceral grip on his tool tighten, throbbing waves of pleasure egged by the pain of an imminent release. He slid into her further, gasping as he could feel the slick friction of wet flesh upon hot, wet flesh. It was unreal to the farm pony, how close he was to his cousin.
With a jolt, Braeburn found himself fully hilted within her. Fiddlesticks squeaked again as he dropped his hips, letting his cock wiggle around inside her tight marehood. Her breathing was ragged and heavy, her muzzle scrunched up. Eyes watery, she looked up at Braeburn.
He tried to control his breathing even as every other sense in his body threatened to topple over the edge. Sweat accumulated freely on his brow as he let out a shaky breath.
“Y-yalright, Fiddles?”
Fiddlesticks responded by placing one hoof against the base of his abdominal muscles while curling the other across her chest, whimpering softly while nodding her head. She wanted him.
The sense of fullness left her as Braeburn pulled out, a longing for him filling the void only momentarily before his hips bucked forward, meeting hers once more. Fiddlesticks let out a squeal as her back arched, her hoof pressing firmly against Braeburn as he backed out again.
Then he pushed back in.
And back out.
Eventually a rhythm was established, the meaty sounds of flesh slapping against hide echoing sloppily throughout the room as Fiddlesticks' squealing was accentuated by Braeburn's heavy panting. Sweat adorned their forms as Braeburn went to town on the mare, the raw lust in him taking over.
Gasping, Fiddlesticks cried out as her back spasmed, biting down on her lip as her entire groin contracted, her cooter squeezing the life out of bitty-Braeburn. Braeburn's eyes bulged out at the sudden tightness that quickly shifted to a pleasant pain.
Suddenly much slicker inside, Fiddlesticks squeaked and squealed as Braeburn boned her like a piston, smashing his hips against hers relentlessly. She cried. She gasped. She loved it.
All too soon, Braeburn felt it. His moment in the sun was over. With a mighty roar, his gates were thrown open as the ocean of his restraint was released. Gushing out with the passion of the crashing ocean, his cock was almost forced out of Fiddlesticks' pussy, but with a feral growl he smashed himself back in, Fiddlesticks crying out as his seed was planted firmly into her welcoming womb.
As the drums faded off into the distance, Braeburn slumped forward, exhausted. His power extinguished, he was left with no energy, no power. He was done.
Fiddlesticks was left to pant, her body raw and tingling. The region between her legs was sore and painful to the touch, but oh so pleasurable at the same time. She laid on the bed with a goofy smile plastered across her face.
Minutes passed by before Braeburn propped himself up, rolling over to his cousin. He gave her a tentative peck on the cheek.
“That was... amazi-MPPPH!”
Fiddlesticks shut him up by lurching forward, swapping her love for his. She broke away with a hazy giggle.
“We... we should wash up... up before we go see your... dad...”
Braeburn nodded. He tried to roll forward, but quickly realized there was a slight problem.
“Uh, Fiddles?”
“Hmm?”
Braeburn gulped.
“I can't flex my stomach.”
Fiddles sighed.
“Me neither.”
~END~
Author's Note
Hurka Hurka
