Mane 6 Milfs

Celestia’s sun shined to start the morning, beckoning ponies to wake from their slumber in the Campgrounds of Neighagra Falls. Painting the sky an elaborate mix of orange and red, the sparkling golden rays seemed to breath new life into whatever it touched. The bright green foliage surrounding the mostly desolate campsite was covered in a thin sparkling sheen of wet dew, and when Celestia’s sunshine passed by, it gave the soft greens of the trees, grass, and flowers an otherworldy and heavenly glow.

The small plot of land was mostly quiet, populated by little more than a small family of rabbits and a few wandering birds, the only sound was the distant echo of falling water that originated from the towering waterfalls for which the campground was named. Down below resided six small tents, the likes of which rested in a large circle surrounding a meticulously constructed stone campfire. A few bags of snackfoods and playfilly magazines lay scattered around the still smoldering pit, the only sign that anypony was actually occupying the makeshift camp.

Suddenly, the entrance to one of the tents burst open, a light pink shade flew out the unzipped door. A dark pink colt jumped out with a large, toothy grin spread across his face, his curly, crimson mane frizzled, knotted and messy, as it always was. He sucked in a deep breath, shouting, “C’mon, everypony! It’s time to get up!” With a swift gesture, he pulled out a flugelhorn, the oddly-shaped violet instrument practically sparkling in the early morning light, practically begging the ecstatic pony to put it to use. He sucked in a deep breath, wrapped his lips around the small, circular end of the instrument, and blew, eager to rouse his fellow ponies from their slumber.

A low, dulcet tone resonated throughout the campsite, loud enough to disturb a trio of dozing birds in a nearby tree, sending them fluttering away, skittishly trying to escape the obnoxious sound. Once the flugelhorn’s sour note had finished, the telltale signs of movement could be seen within each of the other five occupied tents, exasperated groans and the muffled sound of unzipping sleeping bags shortly followed.

“For the love of all that’s good and bountiful in this world, Berry Blast!” An agitated voice was heard, coming from the largest and most elaborately decorated of the tents. “Why on Equestria must you insist on bringing that dreadful instrument with you wherever you go?” From out of the lavish tent came a gray-coated young colt, a light blue sleeping mask resting above his bright green eyes and an irritated scowl marring his expression.

In the tent adjacent to him, one that was rustic but functional, an alabaster colt came out, yawning and grunting as he emerged. A playfilly magazine lay over his snout, the front cover that of a pretty young pegasus mare with her legs spread, slit dripping wet with feminine juices, just begging to be filled. He gave his bloodshot brown eyes a couple curious blinks, as if he didn’t even notice it, his wings unfurled slightly in response to the cool morning air, a light gust of wind blowing past and knocking th e magazine free from its perch. It hit the ground with a heavy thump. He didn’t pay it any mind.

“Whu?” Inquired the droopy colt, looking around with a hazy half lidded gaze. “Berry? Foxtrot? Wut in tarnation are ya’ll yellin’ ‘bout?”

“If I had to hazard a guess...” A squeaky high pitched voice spoke out, on the cusp of full masculinity but not quite there. The voice came from behind a thin layer of shadowy black tarp. It was the simplest of the tents, built with practicality in mind, more so than looks anyway. The zipper protruding from the tent’s front door was wrapped up in a soft red sparkling glow, quickly winding around the door and undoing itself. Out popped a crimson coated colt. A smile adorned his face as he adjusted his signature pair of thick square spectacles, gingerly stepping over the soft black tarp of his tent’s entrance, the likes of which now lay upon the ground in a crumpled heap. “I’d say that Berry’s flugelhorn has upset our mutual friend Foxtrot.” The stallion shrugged his shoulders and ran a skinny red hoof through his somewhat disheveled long brown mane. “Sounds like a reasonable deduction to make anyway, don’t you think Jonathan?”

Jonathon gave his hanging head a heavy shake, trying in vain to wake himself up. “Uh, sure Crimson, yeah, makes total sense...” He answered dismissively.

Right next to Jonothan’s tent, one of pale yellow, decorated with a colorful assortment of flowers, a colt’s head shyly poked out to see what the ruckus was outside. His luscious blue mane fell over his violet eyes, yellow coat sparkling as it caught a few stray rays from the sun overhead. He took a few ginger steps forward, casting a curious gaze around the campsite in an attempt to locate the source of the disturbance. Naturally, that gaze landed on Berry Blast, as it often did when something unexpected or obnoxious had happened.

“B-Berry...” He started, his voice soft from both fatigue and his natural reserved nature. “I thought your mom told you to leave her flugel horn at home.”

The pink stallion chuckled, holding up the instrument like it was a prized souvenier. “Pffft, come on Gentle Breeze it’s not hers, its my dads! And she won’t miss it anyway, she’s been all saddy waddy for like, a whole month!.”

A high pitched yawn punctuated Berry’s statement, the final colt finally rousing from his dreamless slumber. A shadowy silhouette visible behind the thin purple walls of his tent. It was the smallest of the group, and a discarded booklet of tent building directions lay just outside the entrance. A soft blue glow lights up the inside, and the entrance magically dissipates, floating away in a puff of grey smoke.

A slender azure colt marches outside, grin on his face as he stands next to Gentle Breeze. The colts share a look and mumble ‘good morning’ to one another. He appeared to be the youngest of the bunch, a good head and shoulders smaller than his companions, and his soft violet eyes still carried a glint of naivety and sincere enchantment with the world around him, qualities that are unfortunately lost with age.

“~Hiiii Shining Star!~” Sang Berry Blast, bouncing up and down in place. “You look super duper awake this morning, way more than all these other grumpy mcgrumpsters...”

Shining Star took a look at his fellow campers. Gentle Breeze looked like he was about to nod off back to sleep, only snapping back to attention whenever his head slumped too far forward, Foxtrot was off near his tent mumbling incoherently to himself and haughtily sorting through his bags, deep brown circles hung beneath his bloodshot blue eyes, Jonathan Smith looked like he’d just been yanked out of the worlds most pleasant dream, his eyes half lidded as he laid down, uncomfortably shifting his hind legs every few seconds, as if something was bothering him... Shining didn’t know what it could possibly be, if it was that bad he should just get up and move.

Crimson Gust appeared to be the only one, aside from himself and Berry Blast, who appeared somewhat presentable. Gently flipping through the last few pages of an old Daring Do novel he’d brought along the other night.

“My mom’s Camping Guidebook recommends you get a full nine hours of sleep every night while camping.” Shining explained. “She made me promise to not stay up too late, so that’s why I went to bed early.” His expression became thoughtful. “What did you guys do after I went to sleep? I heard lots of groaning and stuff after I went to bed...”

A deep shade of crimson passed over each of the colt’s faces. Even Berry Blast seemed uncharacteristically silent. What the younger colt didn’t know, was that after he’d gone to bed, the older boys had passed around Smith’s collection of playfilly magazines and some hard cider he’d managed to nick from his mom’s basement.

After a few hours of drinking... and sharing some of the more risque images they’d come across, they’d all become so aroused that the very thought of going to bed unsatisfied seemed like an awful way to end the otherwise exciting evening. After a few moments of planning, the five colts had come up with a fun way to spice up their midnight snacks, and get rid of their hard ons to boot.

They’d gathered around the fire pit, made sure to place an open bag of marshmallows where each of them could easily reach, and taken care of their collective problem one by one. Needless to say, the five of them soon had a tasty, if slightly saltier snack to finish off by morning.

“Y-you’ll learn when you’re older!” Chimed in Jonathon, his hind legs still squirming, almost more than they were before.

Shining Star scoffed. “I’m two years younger than you guys!”

“Well that’s two years too young!” The older stallion shot back, giving his shining black mane a dismissive flick.

The unicorn rolled his eyes. “Fine, if you guys don’t want to talk about it whatever, I don’t care that much anyway.”

“Good.” Came a simple reply, Crimson Gust, who marched over and took a seat next to the younger stallion, placing his book down beside him, his horn fizzling out with a spark. “Curiosity killed the cat, as they say.” The unicorn focused his attention back to Berry Blast, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “Berry, why did you wake us up so early?

The excited colt let out another laugh. “Because we need to get everything cleaned up silly! We can’t just leave all these snacks and mags layin’ around!” He pointed towards a few of the discarded candy wrappers and naughty magazines for emphasis, before giggling again. “And, it totally gave me a chance to test out my flugel horn...”

An exasperated sigh rang out throughout the campsite, Foxtrot’s signature way of displaying his distaste for a suggested action. “Must we really? Why not simply leave it here? Nopony’ll know it was us.”

Gentle Breeze snapped to attention. “We can’t do that Fox!” Exclaimed the usually reserved stallion. “My mom said that pollution can really damage an animal’s habitat, and I’d feel awful if we were responsible for something as awful as that.”

“Yeah Foxtrot.” Agreed Shining Star, his face filled with distaste at the suggestion. “Don’t be such a douche, we aren’t going to just leave this stuff here.”

The stallion’s mouth opened in surprise at the vulgar insult. “Why Shining Star! What would your mother say if she heard you using such foul language!?”

The younger colt smirked. “She’d probably be happy that I’m expanding my vocabulary.”

Seeing that Shining wasn’t going to take the bait and be bullied into leaving him alone, Foxtrot instead refocused his attentions to Gentle Breeze, who’d likely be an easier target to manipulate. “Come now Breezy, your mom says lots of things.” He offered the reclusive stallion a disarming smirk. “Like that it’s okay to be breastfeeding a sixteen year old stallion.” Gentle Breeze felt blood rush up to his cheeks, the embarrassment now plain to see. “So why don’t we just assume that she’s wrong about the whole environment thing too?”

“Foxtrot!” The booming authoritative voice snapped the stallion out of his manipulative haze, looking over to see Jonathon glaring at him. “Ah’d suggest ya’ll shut yer mouth and start cleanin’... unless ya’ll want yer mom ta find out about them suits ya’ll been stealin’ from her back room.”

That seemed to shut the snooty stallion’s trap. And he sulkily stomped off to go tidy up near his tent. He’d been pinching older clothing items from his mother’s backroom for the better part of a month, hocking them out to random passers by for cheap. His mother, Rarity, was a well known fashion designer throughout Equestria, and her clothing ran for fairly steep prices when sold officially. So he’d been nabbing himself some easy bits by selling a lot of what she hadn’t planned on using. His mother wouldn’t approve, she always donated whatever it was she didn’t sell, but to Foxtrot that seemed like an incredible waste.

Berry smiled again, unfazed by Foxtrot’s minnie fit. “Alright everypony, if we get crackin’ now we can have everything packed up and cleaned up by lunch time!”

With less than enthusiastic exclamations of agreement the colts set about tidying the campgrounds up, it was mostly silent work, nopony was really awake enough to talk about anything trivial. Surprisingly enough, Gentle Breeze had been the first to finish cleaning up his mess, as he’d had the necessary foresight to avoid making that big of one in the first place, messes were always so bothersome, and he didn’t wish to burden anyone else with his own, so he’d kept his mess to a minimum.

Of course... he’d balanced out that tidiness by making the biggest mess on the marshmallows last night, but that wasn’t necessarily something that had been difficult to clean, since everypony had pitched in to help clean it up.

With nothing else to do, the shy stallion had decided to make himself useful by helping out the others. Shining Star and Crimson Gust were almost done cleaning up their portions of the camp, so he didn’t feel like he’d be much use to either of them. He was still a little upset at Foxtrot for the breastfeeding comment, so the pegasus didn’t plan on doing him any favors for a good long while. Something about the air surrounding Jonathon told him that the oddly named gruff farm stallion would rather be left alone for the time being, so he’d decided to give Berry Blast a hoof in the meantime. And besides, he’d had something on his mind that he’d wanted to talk to the cheery stallion about for a while.

“H-hey Berry?” Inquired the shy pegasus, fluttering over with a few easy beats of his wings.

The excitable stallion whipped around, big blue eyes wide with glee. “Yeah Breezy Weezy?”

“You said your mom’s been, um... sad lately?” He inquired, his voice soft as he bent down to help pick up some of the trash.

Berry, unfazed by the question, gave his head three big nods in the affirmative. “Yep! She’s been super down lately, my papa hasn’t been home for a long time. And it’s really hitting her super duper hard.”

“W-well...” Gentle Breeze gently clopped his two front hooves together in a nervous display. “My mom’s been pretty sad lately too.”

“Aww, why’s that?”

“Well, next week is my mom and dad’s anniversary...” He explained, his voice carried a deep tone of sadness. “And she’s been, well, pretty sad about it.”

Berry’s expression registered an honest sympathy as he placed a comforting hoof on his friend’s shoulder. Gentle’s father had passed away last year, caught in a freak storm from the Everfree that had hit Ponyville by surprise. The family had never really been the same since. Fluttershy had only recently made the decision to have another child, magical insemination, from some remnants her husband had left behind. Fluttershy had become dependant on a populated household, and since Gentle would likely be departing in a few years to pursue his own dreams and life, she’d need another happy little foal running around to keep her company.

“I was wondering, you’re good at cheering ponies up. D-do you have any ideas?”

Berry gave his wide blue eyes a few curious blinks, before a smile practically split his face apart. “Of course, your mommy is the most important pony in the world to you right!?” He asked. Gentle slwoly nodded his head, she was, as far as he knew. “Well, I’ve got something very special planned for my mommy for when I get home tonight...” The stallion’s voice carried a hint of mischievous glee, almost as if he harbored dark intentions for his caretaker, Gentle felt a chill dance up and down his spine at the thought but forced them away. Berry loved his mom, he’d never do anything to hurt her, it was probably just a party, had to be. “It’s something only my daddy does for her, but I think I’ve got it figured out now! Doing it should totally make her all kinds of happy wappy! Why don’t you try and find something special to do for her? Something that’ll help her remember happier times?”

The pegasus pressed a soft golden feather to his chin in thought, sifting through his distant memories in search of something he and his mother could do together to ease the air of depression hanging around the house. A sudden memory concerning his mother’s teats and the feeling of warm milk pouring down his throat flashed through his mind, a rose colored blush tinting his cheeks in response…

His mother was unfortunately suffering from a few debilitating side effects due to recently impregnating herself via magical insemination (a brash decision she’d made after a bout of depression a few weeks ago). The most egregious of which was the massive swelling of her breasts, Gentle could still picture the soft yellow orbs hanging beneath his mother’s lower body, teats hard and dripping with sweet white milk… they’d been haunting his idle thoughts for the past week or two, and he’d often catch himself lapsing into fond memories of suckling from them when he was younger.

The way they swayed and bounced as she flew about the house…

The way her hardened pink nipples would make her moan in agonized pleasure as they brushed against her legs…

The way her face would scrunch up in pleasure as she desperately milked them with her hooves…

“Equestria to Gentle Breeze!” A loud voice snapped the daydreaming pegasus out of his haze. “You dozin’ off there silly!?”

“S-sorry Berry, just thinking about… stuff.” He quietly replied, not lying but not telling all of the truth.

“Oooh, funsies! Welp, my stuff’s all cleaned up.” Berry bent down and picked up his small brown pair of camping saddlebags, the small burlap sacks had been stuffed to the brim last night with bags of snacks and drinks, now it was stuffed to the brim with empty snackbags and drinks. “We’d better get all our tents picked up and head on out of here.” The stallion grinned around the brown strap in his mouth. “I’ve gotta get home soon if I wanna have enough time tonight to cheer my mommy up!”

“Yeah… What is your special plan anyway?” Gentle quickly inquired, his interest having long since been piqued. It was only something Berry’s dad had done for his mother… special treats perhaps? Then again, when he’d shopped at Pinkie’s sweet shop he couldn’t recall ever seeing Berry’s father in the kitchen, apparently the business stallion had a tendency to produce ‘baked bad’s’, whatever those were…

Berry strapped the saddlebags to his back. “Oh come on Gently Wently! I hate explaining my master plans!” He giggled, pressing a dark pink hoof up to his slender lips. “The details always sound so… forced!"

“Well… okay then.” Gentle murmured uneasily, a confused look on his face as he marched across the campsite, hesitantly going about packing up his tent.

The next hour crawled by for the boys, filled with menial labor and crude jokes at one another’s expense. Eventually, after many ‘your mom’ jokes, the six sons had succeeded in packing up their tents.

Together they marched out of the campgrounds, stopping only long enough to ditch their hard cider cans in the nearest dumpster, before they each went their own way. The six each had business to attend to back home, and all were eager to see it done.

Least of all… Berry Blast