Chapter 3: Dousing the Flame

First mornings…

It always throws me a little when I wake up for the first time in a new place. Be it college, my old apartment or even Ponyville, the feeling is always the same: the first night has been survived, and now the real challenge begins.

Even after breakfast and a shower my body still ached from the previous night’s exertion. It turned out that if there was one thing these ponies had in spades, it was energy.

While the impromptu square dance had taken up the latter hours of the celebration—it turns out ponies can dance quite well on their hind legs, much to my surprise—most of the evening had consisted of me being bombarded by questions and dismissing rumours. Unsurprisingly, one of the first queries had been the much expected ‘do you eat ponies?’ to which I could confidently advise them that I did not, much to the relief of a surprising number.

Lucky for them I wasn’t French.

I rolled over and grabbed my phone off the nightstand.

@MusicMan3142 @JamesMoriarty123 Did u make sure French visitors know not to eat natives? #WWIII

The reply came quite quickly.

@JamesMoriarty123 @MusicMan3142 #NotFunny

I cocked my head, “Was only trying to help…”

I’d also been asked by one of the ponies—a yellow Pegasus in this case—that if it wasn’t too much trouble, if I didn’t mind terribly much, might I refrain from ‘eating any of the other four legged critters I may see about’. I’d said this was perfectly fine, and then jokingly asked if there were any rabbits around that I might nibble on instead. The Pegasus obviously didn’t get my sense of humour though, as she responded by flying off screaming about protecting angels…or something.

…I’m sure it would’ve made sense had I understood the context.

I tossed the covers down and dragged myself out of bed. It had been a comfortable—if slightly annoying—night’s sleep. This was mainly due to my feet constantly poking out from under the sheets at the bottom end of the bed. Although it wasn’t as if I could really blame the management of the Prancing Pony for not investing in beds designed for creatures that they had only recently learned were non-fictional.

As I stretched, my thoughts were briefly drawn back to the events of the night before. Lyra had stayed close to me the entire time, for which I was immensely grateful. She gave me the occasional pointer on what and what not to say and even shared the occasional musical quip.

Yes, as it turned out my guide was a naturally talented musician, which went in no small way towards breaking the ice between us. She also turned out to be quite bizarrely popular with the stallions. I had attempted to make a compliment out of that fact, but she proceeded to get even more flustered than she already had been, as if the interest were something to be embarrassed about. I wasn’t sure why though, as she seemed to me quite pleasant company. In fact, there just seemed to be something in the air about her that held your attention a little more than others of her kind.

There came a gentle rapping at my door and I quickly threw on a dressing gown to make myself slightly more presentable. I then hastily brushed my bangs down to an acceptable level of untidiness and turned to face the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened slowly and a mop of white and cyan stripes poked itself inside, “D-did I wake you?”

Speak of the devil, “No, I’ve been up for a while.”

Lyra’s eyes did a quick sweep about before finally settling on me, “I…I thought we could talk about what you want to do today, o-or would you prefer to wait until after breakfast?”

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” I smiled, “Come in, let’s talk...”

She looked almost fearful for a second and shied back, “Are you sure?”

I chuckled, “Of course. As I already reassured everybody last night: I don’t bite…well, not unless you ask me to…”

Lyra seemed to try and conceal a sudden intake of breath at the comment before edging slowly into my room.

I watched as she looked about, surveying the various otherworldly goods that I had unpacked since the previous night.

I observed her as she went, her tail swishing in an almost rhythmically-cute way in time with her hips as she began speaking, “I…I was thinking we could start with a tour. I could show you the sights; go for a walk up to the orchards afterwards maybe?”

I smiled, “Sounds like a plan…”

Lyra beamed in response, “Great! I’ll see you down by the square in say…an hour maybe?”

I nodded, “It’s a date.”

Lyra made that weird squeaking noise in her throat again. Her bottom lip wobbled as if she were trying to say something. Instead, she just nodded and effectively bolted from the room.

“Strange girl…” I said, cocking my head as I moved to sink down onto my bed.

I stopped mid-crouch, “Wait…did I just ask a unicorn out on a date?”

I shrugged, “Not the weirdest thing I’ve ever done…” an amusing idea then occurred to me however.

@MusicMan3142 going out for a liaison with my guide Ms Heartstrings. Hope I don’t put my foot in my mouth. #starcrossedlovers

I idly twirled the phone about between my fingers, “Wait for it…wait for it…” And then came the inevitable alert a second later. I flipped it about, “Ahh, Jimmy, let’s see what—“

@JamesMoriarty123 favorited one of your tweets.

My brow creased into a frown, “Oh, well now he’s just messing with me…”

Despite my earlier ridicule over the concept, I chose to at least dress myself in something more appropriate for a day out with a member of the opposite sex, regardless of what species they might be.

At the very least I thought it might prove to be some fun.

In this case I went with a pressed cotton shirt with cardigan, trousers and brown loafers. Hair was combed and gelled. That and a light application of aftershave and I was ready to go.

“Well I said I’d be a gentleman while I’m here,” I murmured as I dusted a bit of lint from my top, “so that’s precisely what I’m going to be. Besides, Jim obviously has no objections…”

I briefly examined myself one last time in the mirror, carefully adjusting one stray part of my fringe off to one side as I reached down to shoulder my guitar, “Okay Samuel, time to make humanity look good…”

I would later reflect back and consider that I probably should’ve dialed it back just a little…

Or not, depending on how you look at it…

I found Lyra exactly where I expected her to be in front of the town hall. She hadn’t seen me approach and I watched as she paced slowly. She seemed to be muttering to herself, occasionally stopping to close her eyes and take deep breaths on top of that.

I slinked closer and dropped my hands onto her sides, squeezing, “Sorry I’m late.”

She let out a yelp of fright and I can only say that it’s lucky I wasn’t standing directly behind her, as her rear right leg flicked reflexively out and punched clean through a signpost.

“Uh…umm…” she stammered, glancing left and right.

I blinked, “Wow, that’s…quite a kick you’ve got there.”

She let out a very nervous chuckle, “Yeah…I…sorry. I’m usually a lot more composed than this. It’s just…” she trailed off. She then shook her head an instant later as if trying to clear it, “So,” she suddenly said, seemingly trying to make her smile seem calm, “You’ve…” she then paused again and gulped, “…changed your mane…”

My brow furrowed and I pinched a stray bang to examine it, “You mean my hair? Yeah, I thought I’d best try and get this lot under control for a little while.” I narrowed my eyes, “Yours looks a little different too,” I said, noting her mane and tail appeared to have been brushed. I smiled, “you look good.”

“Mhmm…” she mumbled, her foreleg drifting back and forth. Again she seemed to have trouble looking at me, “You…I…like what you’re wearing.”

I looked down and tugged at my cardigan, “Well I thought I may as well make the attempt. Where I’m from, a gentleman should always do his best to present himself well before a pretty lady such as your fine self.”

“P-present yourself?” she squeaked, her eyes oddly enough going even wider for an instant, “N-no…th-that is…I’m the one who should…oh no, I didn’t mean…can we just start again?”

I looked blankly at her, “…okay.” I said, and then nodded once, “Lyra, would you please do me the honour of showing me about your town?”

Lyra closed her eyes and an aura of calm seemed to wash over her, “Yes…” she breathed, “I would be most happy to.”

Right about here is where I’d normally make some washy gesture like taking her arm about mine, but due to the height difference and Lyra’s normally four-legged stance, I felt this would be somewhat impractical. I therefore settled on simply walking calmly by her side with my left hand resting in my cardigan pocket, the other I found myself idly resting atop the back of her neck in the same way I’d merely have a hand about a companion’s shoulder.
Lyra had flinched at the initial contact, but had objected when I attempted to remove the hand. She’d said it made her feel ‘calm’.

Upon touching it, I realised Lyra’s mane had a texture far silkier than any human or animal hair I’d ever felt before, and I enjoyed the sensation of idly trailing my fingers through it. I also noted how she would sway her hips and hum almost dreamily whenever my fingers brushed her coat directly, as if it were some kind of nervous twitch.

I’m not sure why, but her reactions while she tried to keep focus on explaining the landmarks continued to amuse me as we strolled about Ponyville under the cool morning sun. I liked the idea that I was somehow calming Lyra, especially since she’d been quite jittery since we’d met on the previous day.

A little while later, I made the critical mistake of letting my index finger extend across the unicorn’s scalp and brushing a ghostlike touch over the surface of her horn, experimentally circling the tip.

Lyra’s reaction had been to come within millimetres of bucking me full-on in the chest had I not staggered back out of the way. After a pause, she swung her head back around to look at me. She appeared badly flushed. It was as if all the calm I’d been building up in her had suddenly ignited into something else.

Lyra’s entire body seemed to be heaving, “Lyra, I’m sorry, I…I didn’t know…” I stammered, walking backwards with my hands raised as she slowly rounded on me.

My slow retreat was halted by a well behind me as Lyra advanced step by slow step, her breathing coming even more heavily. I tried shying away as she stopped in front of me and leaned slowly in.

Much to my surprise, she then began nuzzling my lower chest, mewling to herself, “Hmmnoo…” she moaned, “too much…it’s too much…” she whimpered.

I watched her inhale deeply and then take a shuddering breath afterward, “I need…need…” she moaned. Without another word she proceeded to wrap her forelegs tightly about my waist.

I quickly realised that she was delirious and I looked desperately about for help, but with none of the townsfolk in sight I really wasn’t sure what to do, “Lyra…” I began, slipping free of her embrace. This drew out a despairing whine from her as I scrambled back over the well so there would at least be some kind of physical barrier between us, “I think I need to call you some help.”

There was a sudden flash of fear in Lyra’s eyes and her expression briefly cleared, “You can’t!”

I did a slight double-take at how quickly her attention managed to focus, “B-but you clearly need help! You haven’t seemed right since we met yesterday.”

She shifted, “I don’t need help. W-well I do but it’s really not the sort of thing…” she trailed off and shook her head, her cheeks flushing brighter, this time seemingly with embarrassment.

Lyra looked quickly about as if searching for something. Her attention was then drawn to the well in front of her. I watched her reach in, draw the bucket out, and promptly dump a good half-gallon of what had to be ice-cold water over her own head.

I was, to say the least, bemused…

And that feeling lasted right up until I heard the first sob.

I circled back around the well to reveal Lyra sat down on her hindquarters. She was dripping wet and had her forelegs hugged around herself as she cried, “I’m sorry…” she choked, her next sob interrupted by a hiccup, “I’m so sorry…”

I dropped down by her side and did the natural thing: I put an arm about her shoulder, “Hey there now…” I hushed gently, “Just what do you have to be sorry for?”

She sniffed loudly and wiped her eye with one hoof, “You don’t understand,” she said, peering out at me from under her dripping fringe with teary eyes, “I’ve ruined everything. If only I’d…” she then broke off and started sobbing uncontrollably into her hooves again.

There was only one thing for it. I leaned forwards and wrapped both my arms about Lyra’s smaller form and drew her up against me. She let out a squeak of shock into my chest and then quickly started crying again.

It was lucky for me I was an expert at this situation. Yes, the ‘lending a girl a shoulder to cry on’ skill was something I was very well versed in. I had to adjust my technique for Lyra somewhat of course so her trembling didn’t result in me losing an eye to her horn.

“Shhh, you don’t need to cry, Lyra…”

“Yes I do…”she whimpered, “I’m a freak.”

“W-what?” I asked, pushing back to look at her, “Lyra, why would you even say something like that?”

“There’s a reason I’m not even part of a herd, Sam.”

I wasn’t sure what that term meant in the context of Equestrian ponies, so I settled on just rubbing her back gently, “Come now…you’re not a freak, Lyra. I’m a freak. Seriously, if I write an autobiography it’ll probably read like somebody just plagiarized Alice in Wonderland and threw in a bunch of off-color sex jokes.”

Lyra choked out a laugh despite probably not understanding the gag.

I smiled, “Look, you don’t have to push yourself to do this tour thing if you don’t want to.”

She shook her head and managed to smile weakly, “No…” she said, “I’m alright now. It’s just mood swings. It…happens when we get like this, and I tend to crash pretty hard.”

“If you’re sure…”

She nodded, “Yes. Trust me, I’ll be fine.”

“Do you at least want me to go and fetch you a towel?”

Lyra shook her head, “No, it’s alright. I’ll dry off quite quickly,” she said, then adding in a murmur, “at least most of me will...”

To avoid any further incidents, I stayed at arms distance from there on out as Lyra showed me round town.

I would stop occasionally to share the photos of the various townspeople/ponies going about their business. These images ranged right from the garishly designed confectioner’s shop to the mail pegasi fluttering about doing their job. To be honest I found pretty much everything that ponies would normally consider mundane and everyday to be utterly fascinating.

Lyra was true to her word in that she dried off with quite shocking speed. I’d noticed she did have a quite bizarrely high body temperature, which she had assured me that, while not exactly normal, it wasn’t due to her being unwell in any way.

It was a fun day, I had to admit. By the time the sun was getting low in the sky we found ourselves strolling through the orchards owned by the quite aptly named—though it seemed there wasn’t a single thing in this world that wasn’t aptly named—Apple family.

I spent most of the time exchanging facts with Lyra of how things worked and differed in our two worlds. I noted she would pay rapt attention to every word I had to say about Earth, of humanity in particular. I in turn was fascinated by her commentary on Equestrian music.

I did notice however that Lyra had become quieter as the day went on, and by the time we reached the canopy of apple trees she was back to being flushed and evasive once more. I felt this was a shame as she seemed to be genuinely pleasant company when not so distracted or…grabby.

I had honestly expected having a guide to be a chore; something to tolerate out of politeness’ sake rather than actually being useful. Imagine my surprise then when I realised I actually found said guide to be fun to be with.

We reached a secluded grove amongst the trees and I sat myself down on a tree stump to take a breather.

Judging by the setting sun, I realised we’d probably have to be getting back soon, “You know, Lyra,” I said, unzipping my guitar bag as Lyra paced for a moment before settling on sitting down in front of me with her back against the stump, “I’ve normally never been fond of tours when I go on vacation. Jim and I have always been more into exploring and discovering rather than being shown everything on a platter, but I can honestly say I’ve genuinely enjoyed being out with you today.”

“Th-thank you…” she said, smiling sheepishly and drawing circles in the grass with her hoof, “I’ve had a lot of fun today too.”

I drew a pick out, twirling it between my fingers before idly starting to play a random bit of slow jazz.

I noticed after a moment that Lyra was looking up at me with wide eyes. I realised after a moment though that it was actually my finger work she was paying close attention to, as if the mere concept of the way my hands drew forth the song from the instrument was captivating to her.

I smiled, “it’s a shame you didn’t bring your own instrument. I’d loved to have jammed with you for a little bit.”

She hugged her forelegs about herself and shook her head, “O-oh, I couldn’t…I’ve never even played that kind of music before.”

I shrugged, “I play all sorts of things. If you’d like, we could play something you know some time and I’ll see if I can pick it up.”

Lyra cocked her head, “We could try right now if you’d like, Sam.”

My brow furrowed, “How?”

“Like this…” and I watched her scrunch her eyes slightly as if focusing. The dimming golden light of the grove was illuminated briefly as her horn glowed. There was a white flash and, much to my surprise, a golden lyre materialised itself atop her forelegs.

“Teleporting instruments?” I asked, “Now there’s a skill I wish I had.”

She smiled slightly and then sat up into what looked to be a quite human posture with her back against my legs, lyre in hand, “That’s one of the few spells I can actually do well. I’m not very talented in magic unfortunately. I’m just good with music, not much else...”

“There’s nothing ‘just’ about music, Lyra,” I said, nudging her with my knee “Now why don’t you show me what you can do.”

“A-alright…but promise you won’t laugh, okay?”

“I would never do something so cruel. Please, go ahead.”

I watched her nod and draw the instrument up against her chest, bracing it between her knees as to keep her forward hoofs free, she then placed the pad of her hoof over one string in preparation, “Th-this is a basic slow dance ballad my mother taught me. It’s the first piece I ever learned how to play. It’s actually the one that got me my cutie mark…”

I nodded, waiting for her to begin.

I watched the way the bottom of her hoof seemed to pinch together around the string as she plucked it. The note resonated around the grove before the next was strummed. The piece began slowly, building up just the slightest bit of tempo until the clearing was filled with a slow, warming melody.

Lyra had her eyes closed and she appeared truly calm for the first time since we’d met.

I sat listening for a while, tracking the song in my head. It had a complex pattern but it was repeating, and after a few false starts and experimental plucks to match the tone, I slowly fell into step with her playing. The lyre and guitar had quite distinct and differing sounds, and were indeed instruments that were vastly different in terms of the style of music they’re normally used for, but despite those differences, they sang together beautifully.

I frowned when I notice Lyra had stopped her playing and had turned about so she was sitting on her hindquarters, looking up at me with those large eyes. I was about to stop also, but she just said, “Keep playing…please.”

And so I complied. I played her song for a while as she just sat and listened, my fingers dancing as they added in the occasional extra note or variation of the melody until I’d adapted it into a solo guitar piece. Lyra seemed to become short of breath as she watched. Again she just asked me to keep going. This went on until I felt I had nothing more to add and had played myself out.

As the last echo of the last note dissipated into the evening air, I set my guitar aside and sighed, stretching my arms up afterward and eliciting a satisfying crack from my knuckles.

I looked down to Lyra, who was still heavily flushed and looking up at me with a quite dewy stare.

“Are you okay?” I asked after a moment.

“That was beautiful…” was all she said, her voice small.

I smiled, “That was just a reinterpretation, nothing more. I just followed your lead and added my own little flavour.”

She seemed to bite her lip, “Well I like the way you taste…”

I chuckled, “Well thank you. That is a new one…” my expression then turned serious for a second, “Listen, Lyra, it’s obvious there’s something the matter. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

After a moment she nodded. She then said in an even smaller voice, barely above a whisper, “Yes, I need…I just need you…to close your eyes.”

I cocked an eyebrow up, “My eyes?”

She nodded.

“Close them?” I repeated.

“Quickly…” she half-moaned, shifting slightly where she sat.

I shrugged, “As you wish,” and so did as requested: I closed my eyes.

“Don’t…open them,” I heard her whisper as the grass in front of me rustled.

“I promise not to peek,” I said. And I managed to keep this promise for quite a while, considering.

I kept it when I felt the heat of her body in the instant before I felt the brush of her coat against my arms and chest.

I kept it even as I felt her forelegs circle my upper torso.

Heck, I even kept it when I felt the heat of her breath over my face.

When did I break it?

That would’ve been the instant Lyra’s lips made contact with mine. Yup, then it was officially saucer-eyes time.

Now, since time in that instant seemed to grind to an absolute halt, I suppose I’ll take a second to describe what went through my head during that moment. I won’t bore you with the obvious ‘is this a sick, disgusting thing: kissing a pony?’ dilemma, as my brain quickly rationalised this as not kissing an animal but rather a sapient, extraterrestrial life-form that happened to be quadrupedal…with magic powers—yes, I still have trouble getting past that because…well…magic powers. Ergo, the question my brain asked itself was: how do you feel about kissing an alien?

Lyra already had her eyes closed. Her hoof was cupping my jaw, applying slight pressure, coaxing and ushering it with gentle urgency to relent as her tongue played at my lips.

How did I feel about this?

Well, it was scary of course; it was uncharted territory; it was…forbidden.

Ergo…it was awesome.

And so, my brain eventually went through all the ifs and buts. It worked through all the moral quadratic equations. Finally, it came back with that one majestic response that’s gotten me into so much trouble in the past:

…What the hell. You only live once, right?

I wouldn’t say my resistance to the whole situation simply vanished from there as much as it slowly…evaporated. My eyes hazed over as my mouth drifted open, yielding to Lyra’s ministrations.

With a hot, lustful exhalation of air, Lyra’s kiss abruptly deepened to a level I had never experience before with another, her muzzle seemingly moulding itself to my mouth entirely. Her tongue entwined down the entire length of mine as she began enthusiastically caressing it with a low, lustful moan that seemed to reverberate from the depths of her throat and all the way down mine. The sensation sent a tremor of unexpected heat through my core.

I found myself returning the act of osculation on instinct, duelling with her tongue as her hoofs explored my chest. One slipped up the front of my shirt and I shuddered as the paw-like suction tugged one nipple, brushing it in rhythmic, teasing circles as the other stroked up and down my neckline. I realised my own hands were roaming her back in kind, gently massaging her firm muscles and pressure points with deep, digging caresses of my fingers. This drew out numerous surprised but undeniably pleasured squeaks from her. Obviously she liked the idea of a partner who could touch her in ten different spots at once.

Then there was her smell; that sweet, musky perfume that radiated all around her. Only then did I realize that it was actually the palpable scent of her arousal, now that it was everywhere, surrounding me. The hot scent filled my sinuses and seemed to make my head swim. I’m not sure what effect it had on stallions, but there was only one word I could use to accurately describe it when it reached this sheer level of saturation: intoxicating.

I felt my body temperature rise along with the unmistakable feeling of the front of my trousers tightening. I suddenly realised that, as playful as I had intended this to be, I was actually getting aroused by it.

Lyra seemed to sense this, as I felt the hoof on my chest circle downwards.

I let out a startled yelp (muffled, as she kept her mouth firmly pressed to mine) as the pad of her hoof encapsulated the growing bulge in my trousers. I whimpered as she began humming, the softness of her hoof moulding itself over the thickening shape as she caressed it up and down in short, urgent strokes.

Lyra pulled her maw away and I opened my mouth to object, fearful as to how far this was rapidly progressing, but she pressed a hoof to my mouth to hush me. She then looked at me through hazed, desperate eyes that had me frozen as her hoof tugged at the button on the band of my trousers, pulling it loose.

I gulped as she tugged my trousers and pants down around my ankles and kicked them away. I leaned forward to halt her, but her hooves were already on my knees, spreading them apart so she could lean in and examine closer. She let out pleasured moan as she nuzzled up against my thigh.

I froze as she sat, crouched before my traitorously semi-engorged member, “Lyra, I–“ I tried to begin, but was choked off as she flicked her tongue out to run it along the underside of the shaft before engulfing my manhood entirely with deep, throaty growl.

My moan was unbidden as her warm mouth surrounded me entirely. Her tongue worked all along the underside, massaging and suckling as I swelled harder. She groaned again as her tongue coiled around the head and began flicking back and forth, sending shudders of pleasure up my body.

Another whimper escaped me as her tongue played at the urethra, savouring the taste of the fluid she was causing to ooze freely as her hooves moved up and down my thighs, stroking gently back and forth over the tender skin.

She’d wrapped her mouth around me to create perfect suction and began bobbing back and forth. And I’m not sure how long she did this for, but I eventually felt myself swell thicker, realising I was actually about to lose it to her. My fingers clenched her mane and I gritted my teeth.

Suddenly, there was cold air as Lyra leaned back, sliding me from her mouth before I peaked, “No…” she growled throatily, and by now her eyes were completely glazed over. I wondered if I had the resistance left to take this opportunity to assume control of the situation and stop this before it went even further.

“Lyra…” I gasped.

“Inside…” she growled as she staggered up and around, her hooves gripping my shoulders behind her as she sank backwards, “Need it inside me…now.”

I gripped hold of her shoulders and moved to stand up just as her tail brushed my thigh. And I felt the swollen tip of my member come inadvertently into sudden contact with the searing, moist entrance to her marehood. I gasped in shock, frozen, just as she was too upon feeling the touch.

She looked back, and she held my eyes with hers as she pressed herself down, building the pressure ever-so slowly. This elicited a mutual, rising groan as the outer lips of her entrance stretched open around the head of my member as it slipped inside, her inner lips snapping shut around the tip once it was snugly within. From there, Lyra simply sank herself slowly backward. Her inner muscles ensured the foreskin around my member was drawn taut, keeping the head exposed to her tight, clasping inner walls. She didn’t stop until her rear was pressed into my crotch, her toned, firm rump fitting almost perfectly between my spread thighs.

Lyra arched her back as she rotated her hips, and I moaned as her clasping insides seemed to coil and milk me at the same time. Her mouth was open, eyes filled with lustful relief.

She steadied herself by grabbing hold of my knees with her forehooves and slowly pulled forward, drawing me out until the tip was trapped just within her. She then slid all the way back, impaling herself completely with a loud gasp of pleasure, all the while her inner walls grasped and massaged, drawing me higher. Lyra soon fell into her rhythm, bucking herself gently against me, sliding me in and out of her unbelievably tight marehood. Her breathing was coming in short gasps now as pleasure overtook her.

My mind was clouded by a haze of shock and sexual pleasure. The whole situation was so surreal that I could hardly believe it was happening. I almost convinced myself it was a dream until the feeling of the mare’s inner walls once more drawing along the length of my manhood reminded me how stark a reality it actually was.

Lyra’s speed was increasing, her movements becoming urgent and her inner muscles were tightening even more around my member. I felt myself starting to swell up inside of her and I realised I was actually about to orgasm; the final admission of how much I was enjoying the act of copulation with her. I desperately tried to hold out, not to yield to that utter, final extent. My face was contorted with strain and ecstasy.

“It’s okay. Don’t fight it, you’re almost there…” I heard Lyra whisper out as she turned her head to around to look at me. There was almost a sort of compassion behind her lust-filled gaze, as if she sensed my holding back and the last thread of my conflict.

She coiled herself about to slowly run her tongue up the line of my neck, flicking the tip over the nape as she reached a forehoof between our legs to cup my sac, squeezing gently, coaxing it into tightening under the subtle touches, “That’s it…” she breathed hotly against my earlobe, “Just let it happen…” And as my mouth opened in a silent scream, Lyra pressed her rear right against me, burying me deep as her inner muscles began twitching rapidly around my manhood as it swelled up with its first emission.

Lyra’s walls gave one final, massive squeeze, forcing out the first blast of fluid from my manhood, which then quickly swelled up again. Her insides then relaxed, leaving me to ride out my orgasm.

My hips were bucking against her as I coated her insides with another blast of seed, unaided this time as I lost myself to what had had to be the biggest climax of my life.

Lyra cried out in orgasm as I ejaculated uncontrollably into her core, pumping out wave after wave of copious emission for what seemed like forever. Lyra’s hips twitched back, rotating against me as she milked me rhythmically for every last drop I had on offer once I had stopped under my own power.

After a few moments pressed tightly against each other, twitching in the throes of ecstasy, we crashed down from on high and we tumbled to the earth. My arms reflexively spooned myself up against Lyra as she heaved for breath.

My face was buried in her mane as I suddenly found myself questioning if that actually just happened. My eyes were then drawn down to where my member remained joined to Lyra, still embedded deeply in her marehood.

The connection was broken when I slipped free a moment later. Copious amounts of my own seed oozed from her still twitching entrance, presenting the final visual proof of how not only had that actually just happened, but also of how much she’d gotten me to enjoy it.

“Thank you…” I was brought back to reality by Lyra’s sigh as she huddled up in my arms, “Thank you…” she repeated again, and then again. The relief in her voice was unmistakable, and there seemed to be tears in her eyes because of that, “Thank you…” she whispered one last time before drifting off right there in a haze of shared sexual afterglow.

Based on the fact that I had just went through one of, if not the, most intense sexual experiences of my life, I felt there really was only one response to give.

“…You’re welcome.”

My worries about what people might think if they learned what happened lasted precisely as long as it took to remember that I don’t care what other people think about me.

—But then what about Lyra?

I looked down at the mare and wondered if I’d done her wrong by letting her overcome me like that. I know humans nowadays can be open-minded once educated and given perspective, but what about her society?

These thoughts were cut into by a startled yelp of, “Whoa…nelly!”

I looked up just as the earth mare who’d found us dropped the basket she’d been positioning by a tree in shock.

It was the Apple pony, the one from the first encounter. She was looking at me with wide eyes, and there was already a blush on her cheeks.

“Th-this is…” I stammered, Lyra not rousing herself from her sleep as I looked fearfully between her, the earth pony, and my still naked lower half.

To my surprise, the pony just sighed, “Ah see how it is…so Lyra finally got that itch scratched, huh? Well good for her.” She cocked her head and crouched down to pick up her basket again, “Ah’ll just, uh, give you two lovebirds some privacy ta make yerselves presentable. Though, ruttin’ like a couple a’ newlyweds in another mare’s apple orchard? That ain’t too polite, now is it?”

“Uh no, ma’am. S-sorry, ma’am. I…umm…promise your orchard shall remain un-rutted for the foreseeable future.”

She squinted an eye at me suspiciously, “Now just so we’re clear: that ain’t one of them you-feh-whatchamacallems now, was it?”

“…A euphemism?”

“Doncha be gettin’ fancy on me…but yeah, I dun reckon so.”

“No, ma’am…”

“Well good. Now you take miss Heartstrings and make yerselves scarce. And...try ta get a room next time, ya hear?”

I flushed, “It was sort of spontaneous, but I hear. But…do you mind if I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“I’m a human…and she’s…not. Doesn’t that bother you at all?”

“…Why? Did ya force yerself on her or somethin’?”

“No!” I objected harshly.

“Then why should ah be upset? Just make sure ya ain’t doin’ it round here no more.”

Apple looked like she was going to add something cheeky on the end there, but instead she merely tilted her hat curtly and then turned about to leave. Although if I didn’t know any better, I could’ve sworn there seemed to be a slight exaggeration in the sway of her hips as she walked off, but that could’ve just been me looking at her in a new light.

So, I realised, the ponies didn’t care. If Apple’s response was going to be even close to the average pony’s reaction, then I suppose Lyra didn’t have anything to worry about after all…

I managed to rouse Lyra and we walked back. She explained to me about her heat situation as she went, and how mares can get driven to an instinctive sexual frenzy by ‘skipping’ out on satisfying the urge during the week when they are driven to mate. Apparently, Lyra had always been particularly susceptible to the effects of ‘skipping’ in comparison to most mares, who were able to skip for somewhat longer without building themselves up too much.

She also let me know that she was only part-way through her current period, and while I may have taken most of the weight off for now, the urges could soon resurface.

What I didn’t realise was that ‘soon’ equated to ‘by the time we get back into town’.

Lyra was already a fluster by the time we reached her doorstep and the sun had fully set. She kept her eyes averted as she unlocked her door.

“It’s okay,” she said, turning to look at me with what I could only describe as fearful hope, smiling weakly, “if…if you don’t want to…be with me, I can try to take care of myself. Wouldn’t be the first time…”

I looked into her sunglow eyes for a long, silent moment before smiling in utter defeat.

She had me.

I reached past Lyra and opened the door for her. I then walked right past her and into the house, “I sense that it’s going to be a long night...”

To be concluded…

Author's Note

First off big up to Permanent Temporary for his editing assistance. And yes, that's that for the penultimate chapter, hope you had fun, quite happy with how this one turned out. Hope to catch you next time for the conclusion.