Hearts, Hooves, and Hard Liquor

by NoSillyDoorknob

Rating: mature
Tags: Sex, Cheerilee, Big Macintosh, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance
Length: 8794

Cheerilee and Big Macintosh indulge in a different sort of love potion.

Ever since the Cutie Mark Crusaders' disastrous Hearts and Hooves Day 'gift' to their teacher, things have been extremely awkward between Cheerilee and Big Macintosh. They've been avoiding each other for ages, but enough is enough. In an attempt to salvage their former amiability, Cheerilee invites the farmer pony out for a friendly drink at the local bar. She's made just one mistake: not all love potions are distilled from clouds and rainbows.

Another fluffy, wuffy, WAFFy fic, this time with 100% more pretentious latin chapter titles!

Published 2014-05-24 01:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-05-24 01:50:02 UTC

In Vino Veritas

Cheerilee forced a smile. “Yes, Mr. Rich; Diamond Tiara is doing just fine academically. It’s her social behavior that worries me.”

“Oh, posh. My little Diamond is a perfect angel.” The snooty stallion adjusted his tie. “She’s always telling me about how well she gets along with the rest of her class.”

If so, it’s because they’re terrified of getting in her way, thought Cheerilee with an internal sigh. “Mr. Rich, your daughter constantly speaks out in my class, and it’s disrupting the other students’ learning. Last week when we went over the Whitetail War, she interrupted me in the middle of a reading to make it known that one of her classmates was having difficulty flying. It’s gone beyond teasing, Mr. Rich, and it worries me.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll speak with her,” said Filthy Rich, dismissing her concerns with a hoof. “Was there anything else?”

Cheerilee sighed, out loud this time, and shook her head. “No, that will be all.” Not like you’d listen to anything else I had to say, anyway. She was not fond of Parent-Teacher Conference night. What good was it to talk to the parents if they ignored everything they didn’t want to hear?

At least after the conferences were over, she could head out and get a drink. The end of the school year’s third quarter was always stressful, as she geared up to cram as much material into the end of the course as she could before end-of-the-year exams. She needed to relax, have a sip of wine, listen to the Friday night analysis of the Equestria Games tryouts on the radio, and forget about schoolwork for a few hours. Or, she thought wistfully, the entire weekend.

As Filthy Rich left the classroom, Cheerilee idly wondered who would be next. She had yet to see Featherweight’s parents, or Silver Spoon’s—another conference she wasn’t looking forward to—or Scootaloo’s; but then, Scootaloo’s parents never showed up for these meetings. She wasn’t even sure what they looked like.

She was certainly not expecting the large, cherry-red pony who walked through her door and cleared his throat. Cheerilee’s eyes widened and she felt her cheeks burn. “Big Macintosh!” Oh, Sisters, this is going to be awkward. “I, um… here for Applebloom, I assume?”

He nodded. Cheerilee fidgeted, arranging the papers on her desk. “Um, well, take a seat, please.”

Big Macintosh sat on the shabby little chair provided for conference night. He positively dwarfed it, as huge as he was. Despite his bulk, the farmer was a pony of few words—even fewer, to her at least, since that humiliating love potion fiasco two years ago.

Not to imply the shame wasn’t mutual. Avoiding somepony didn’t work very well unless they were trying to avoid you, too. The two ponies sat uncomfortably in the growing silence. I’d have thought time would make me forget the embarrassment. But all she had to do was remember one utterance of the ghastly “schnookums” and her face felt like it was on fire all over again.

Cheerilee was the one to break the silence. “So… I take it Applejack was unavailable?” Applebloom’s big sister usually stood in as her legal guardian on conference night.

Big Macintosh nodded again. “She’s at the Games tryouts with the others.”

It was the longest sentence Cheerilee had heard him say in almost a year. “Oh, yes. She mentioned that.” The silence returned, and Cheerilee began tapping a pen against her lips with her hooves. “And Granny Smith?”

“Still tuckered out from that boatin’ trip with Pinkie last week.” Big Macintosh rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his wooden collar. “So, uh… how’s my sister doin’?”

Seizing the topic, Cheerilee said, “Very well, I’m happy to say. I think she’s finally getting over her aversion to math. She’s been doing very well in algebra. In fact, she’s one of the few in the class who really understand polynomials already.”

“Polly-whats?” Big Macintosh blinked. It was hard to tell, but Cheerilee thought there might be a bit of extra red in his cheeks. “Uh, I mean, good t’hear.” His Is and mys twanged with that Apple family drawl Cheerilee had always found so charming in the four of them.

“I’m looking forward to having her in Trigonometry next year,” said Cheerilee with a smile. It was difficult, being one of the few teachers in a very small town; she had to teach a lot of subjects at the same time, and grading six or seven classes’ worth of work ate up most of her already sparse free time. Still, it was all worth it to see students like Applebloom flourish in the classroom, especially as they began moving on to the more challenging high school material.

“Glad t’hear it.” Big Macintosh shuffled his hooves. The stiff silence descended once more.

Suddenly, Cheerilee felt a wash of irritation at him and herself. She was tired of them dancing around each other, avoiding eye contact. They might not have been extremely close friends before the incident, but at least they’d been close enough to say hello to each other. This awkward mess had gone on too long.

“Well,” she said, “there’s not much else to talk about. Applebloom’s doing well in her classes—though she could be a little more diligent about doing her history homework—and she’s been very well-behaved.” For the most part. She and her two inseparable friends had caused the occasional ruckus, but right now that wasn’t as important as bridging the gap between Cheerilee and the stoic pony in front of her.

“Okay, then,” said Big Macintosh, standing up so fast the chair skidded back half a foot. He turned to half-dash toward the door.

“Wait, Big Mac—” Cheerilee swallowed, then smiled. “Listen, after conferences are finished, I’m headed over to that little bar and grill on the east side of town to celebrate the end of the quarter. What do you say we meet up there and have a drink?”

Big Macintosh cleared his throat. “The last drink we had didn’t turn out too well.”

“Yes, and that’s why I’m asking you now,” said Cheerilee, straightening in her seat. “I think it’s high time we put that nonsense behind us. So what do you say? Can we quit dodging each other and be friends again?”

He appeared to consider it for a moment. The smile widened. “Okay, Miss Cheerilee. I’ll see you there.”

“Great! I’ll be there at nine.” She waved as he left the room.

Turning back to the papers on her desk, she began shuffling and reordering them, feeling proud of herself. At least I got something useful done tonight.

The next parent walked in, beaming. Cheerilee gave her a big smile and gestured to the chair. “Good evening, Mrs. Peppermint. Please, take a seat.”

“Evening, Mith Cheerilee. How’th my little Twitht doing?”

* * *

The rest of the conferences passed in a homogeneous blur, and at last Cheerilee was free. As the last parent left, she dumped her weekly stacks of homework into her saddlebags. She pulled the heavy bags over her back, sighing at the thought of spending another weekend sitting by herself behind a desk, grading papers. Her little house was getting lonely these days. Maybe I should get a pet.

It was a fairly long walk from the schoolhouse to Moonshine Still’s Bar and Grill. Cheerilee hummed while she walked, enjoying the calm Friday night. I wonder if Mac will actually show up? She smiled. Nopony had called him simply Mac since high school, before he’d dropped out to work on the farm and gotten as bulky as he was now. I guess we’ve all changed since then.

She reached the bar at last, pushing through the door and hearing the familiar jingle of a bell. A waitress behind a small stand smiled at her. “Can I get you a table?”

“No, just here for the wine,” said Cheerilee, making a beeline for the bar. She was pleasantly surprised to find the bar was reasonably empty tonight. Normally, crowds weren’t a problem, but when she needed some me-time she preferred to be alone. Or with a few good friends.

She set her saddlebags down beside one of the stools, and hoisted herself up onto it. She put her hooves on the countertop, waiting for Moonshine to get to her. The owner and bartender was quick as always, appearing from the back still tying his black apron on. He was a short little gray stallion, balding on the top of his head, but with a bushy brown moustache and a friendly smile. “Evening, Miss Cheerilee. What can I get you?”

“I’ll have a Chardonneigh. Nice and tart, please.”

“Coming right up.” He swept across the bar to the wine bottles, swiftly selecting one and uncorking it in one swift movement. A wineglass appeared from beneath the counter, and he poured the rich white from the bottle. With a final flick of his hoof, he sent the glass sliding across toward Cheerilee, who caught it with practice. She smiled. “Showoff.”

Moonshine just winked, and moved down the bar to deal with another customer. Cheerilee put her hooves on the glass’s sides and sipped. “Ooh.” Moonshine had given her a good one tonight. It was like drinking crisp white grapes, with just the barest taste of alcohol—exactly how she liked it. She settled in to wait.

Only ten minutes had passed their appointed meeting time, yet Cheerilee was almost surprised when the bell jingled and Big Mac himself stepped through the door. She beamed and waved. He caught the gesture and nodded, heading over to meet her.

“I’ll be honest,” she said as he sat on the stool beside her, “I didn’t think you were coming.”

Big Mac smiled. “Well, I figured y’were right. We’ve been acting mighty foolish, it’s time to move on.”

Moonshine, holding a glass in one hoof and wiping the inside with a rag in the other, leaned on the bar. “Hello, there. What are you having?”

Big Mac tapped his chin, surveying the wall of drinks. “I’ll have a bourbon, neat. Black cherry, if y’have it.”

“That we do,” said Moonshine, whisking away to fill the order.

“Cherry?” Cheerilee nudged Big Mac with a hoof. “Not turning traitor on the Apples, are we?”

He gave a rare grin. “When y’eat apples almost every day your whole life, y’can get real tired of ‘em.”

“Fair enough,” she said, smiling. She took another drink of wine. “So, your family really eats apples the whole year round?”

Big Mac shrugged. “Nope. Jus’ anytime we run outta other stuff, an’ nopony wants to go t’the store. ‘Course, we cook apples all th’time. But we sell most of that.”

“What’s it like, living on the farm? More exciting than suburbia?”

Moonshine arrived with Big Mac’s drink in a stout glass tumbler. “Enjoy your evening, sir.”

Big Mac nodded thanks and pressed his hooves to the drink’s sides, taking a draught. He paused, swallowed visibly, and blinked. “Been a while since I drank whiskey.” He set the cup back down and turned to Cheerilee. “Not sure I’d call farmin’ excitin’, exactly. Y’work all day, mostly buckin’ apple trees, an’ th’plowin’s the real kicker. This collar ain’t jus’ fer show.” He tugged on it. “An’ then there’s th'money. Most of what we make goes right back into th’farm, buyin’ equipment an’ the like.”

Cheerilee nodded, sipping her drink. “Applebloom certainly loves it, though. She’s always telling us how much fun applebucking season is. She can’t wait to start working full time, she says.”

Big Mac shook his head, a sudden fierce flicker in his eye. “Applebloom’s not gonna spend her life workin’ in an orchard. She’s gonna be a mayor, or an architect, or somethin’—not another farmhoof. Me an’ Applejack are makin’ sure she’s got the money fer college.” He relaxed, and the flicker vanished. He sipped from the tumbler. “That’s why she’s got to know polynomials, and all that.”

Cheerilee raised an eyebrow. “Polynomials, hmm?”

“Yeah, I remembered ‘em almost as soon as I walked out the door,” he said, giving a sheepish smile. “The equations with all th’exponents, right? Felt awful silly. Y’must’ve thought I was an idiot.”

“I’m impressed, actually,” said Cheerilee between drinks. “I mean, Sisters; it’s been what, fifteen years since you’ve had to use a quadratic equation?”

He shrugged. “I help Applebloom with her homework. Keeps me sharp enough fer the high school stuff, anyway. ‘Sides, Applejack is hopeless with numbers, an’ somepony’s gotta keep track of the farm finances, right?”

Cheerilee felt a new respect growing for Macintosh. She’d always assumed Applejack was the de facto leader of Ponyville’s Apple clan, but there was clearly a lot of behind-the-scenes weight resting on Mac’s shoulders.

Big Macintosh took another drink of the whiskey, closing his eyes as his brows shot upward. “Whoo! That’s powerful stuff.”

Cheerilee gave him a teasing smirk. “I’d always figured you for a pony who could hold his liquor.”

He opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow at her. “Says th’pony drinking th’mildest wine on the menu.”

She gave an airy wave. “I never claimed I had any tolerance for alcohol. Sisters, no, I was terrible in college. Three shots and I’d be dancing on tables. It’s a miracle I graduated before falling off a balcony somewhere.” Cheerilee glanced down at her glass, which was now half-empty. Her head was buzzing pleasantly by now, but she hadn’t even begun approaching the oh-Celestia-I’m-gonna-fall-over phase yet.

Big Mac snorted. “Is that all y’do in college?”

“Well, no,” she admitted. “It’s mostly a lot of hard work, boring classes with a few interesting ones nestled in between, and desperately switching majors trying to figure out what you want to do in life.” Cheerilee shook her head and took a lengthy drink. “I always knew I wanted to be in education, but I started out gunning for a professorial position. I was going to teach physics at Mareon Tech or Trottingham U.” A little unintended sarcasm leaked into her voice at the end, and she hurriedly took another drink. “You know how twenty-year olds are. Think they can change the world, and all that.”

“You’ve done more than most,” said Big Mac, smiling. “Applebloom might like farmin’, but before she started hangin’ around with Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, class with you was about all she’d talk about at home. Th’kids love you.”

Blushing, Cheerilee swallowed another mouthful of wine. “Well, that’s kind of you to say.”

“Ain’t no kindness in simply sayin’ the truth, Miss Cheerilee. You make ‘em want to learn.” He raised his glass to her with both hooves before taking another drink. This time, his face barely twitched. “Ah, gettin’ a taste for it now.”

Cheerilee finished off her wine, giving a satisfied “Mmm.” She made to put the glass back on the countertop, but her hooves slipped and it fell to the floor. Moonshine had long ago learned the value of investing in quality glassware, so the vessel landed without shattering, but it rolled away from her seat. “Shit,” she muttered, before clapping her hooves to her mouth. “Uh, shoot.” She giggled. “Sorry, reflex. I try not to swear in front of my students.” Clearing her throat, she leaned over to pick up the glass.

Suddenly, her balance tilted, and she started tipping forward. Oh, guess I’ve reached ‘falling over’ after all. Before she could complete an undignified faceplant, a steadying red hoof intercepted her torso and pushed her back upright on the stool. She couldn’t help but notice how strong Big Mac was, with those huge muscles from working on the farm for a decade and a half.

Blushing, she said a demure “Thanks,” and got off the stool to simply pick the glass up with her mouth. Setting it back on the counter, she readjusted her haunches to sit more comfortably—and stably—on the stool.

“Weren’t kiddin’ about dancin’ on tables, I see,” said Big Mac, with a twinkle in his eye.

“Ahem. I might be drunk enough to have told you about that, but I’m not drunk enough to have to listen to it.” She gestured toward his nearly-empty tumbler. “Mind if I have a taste?”

“Be m’guest,” he said, pushing it toward her.

She took a sip of the brown liquid, not sure what to expect—the last time she’d tried whiskey, it had felt like her throat was burning. This, however, went down smoothly, with the unmistakable flavor of cherries. “Hey, it tastes like candy.” She took a bigger drink, and nearly gagged as the alcohol hit her throat and nose. “Wow.”

Moonshine paused by them on his way toward another customer. “Careful there, Miss Cheerilee. That’s eighty-proof; you’ve been drinking sixteen.”

“More of that,” she gasped, blinking furiously. The blast of alcohol was strong, but it passed quickly enough. And that flavor deserved some more exploration. “Mac, what do you say to splitting the cost of a bottle?”

“Sure, Miss Cheerilee.”

She beamed. “Oh, just call me Cheerilee. No need to be so formal.”

He shrugged and nodded with a bemused smile. They waited for Moonshine to finish down at the other end of the bar, and then asked for their bottle. Cheerilee took it a bit eagerly, but managed not to spill any as she poured glasses for Big Mac and herself.

Balancing the glass on one hoof, she raised it toward him. “To farming!”

He raised his to hers. “To schoolin’.”

Cheerilee paused for a moment to think. “To getting really drunk!”

They clinked glasses, and took their shots. Cheerilee felt streams of warmth go trickling out from her stomach, tingling into her limbs and head. “I like this.”

With a glass of bourbon in his system already, Big Mac was looking more relaxed than Cheerilee had seen him in quite a while. “I hope you weren’t planning on doing anythin’ tomorrow.”

“Nooope,” she said, shaking her head, which had suddenly become rather heavy. “Just got to grade a bunch of papers this weekend. I can get it done Sunday if the hangover’s too bad to work.” She swallowed another mouthful of whiskey. “Not like I do much most weekends, though. Just sit around the house, mostly.” She looked down at her hooves on the countertop. “Honestly, Mac, my life is kind of boring. I need a hobby. Or somepony to go out and do things with.”

“Really?” Mac raised an eyebrow. “I always thought you weren’t interested in datin’.”

Cheerilee took another drink, smacking her lips. “Wheredjyou get that idea?”

“I jus’ figured if you wanted somepony, you could get ‘em. I mean, you’re smart, you’re kind, you’re pret—” Big Mac stopped and stared down at his glass. “Uh, I think I may’ve had too much of this.”

“Nonsense,” said Cheerilee, slightly slurring the syllables. “By all means, continue the compliments.”

He laughed. “No need to go getting’ drunk on words as well as whiskey, Cheerilee.”

“It’s funny, really,” she said, taking another long drink. Wow, that stings. She shook her head and blinked. “Back in high school, I had something of a crush on you, actually. Before you left.”

Now it was Macintosh’s turn to blush. He took a drawn-out sip instead of answering.

“Lots of the girls did, y’know. We’d squabble about it between class periods. I had all these fantasies about you asking me to dinner, and… things.” She paused. I think it’s possible I’ve become a little more inebriated than I meant to. She tried to surreptitiously test her motor skills by spinning the tumbler around between her hooves, only managing to spill a little whiskey over the side.

“’Fraid I don’t remember high school that well,” said Big Mac with a hint of melancholy. “Been a long time since I was a kid.”

Cheerilee felt a pang of sadness. Mac hadn’t been a kid since the day he’d dropped out, she realized. Taking over the farm in his parents’ absence had taken more maturity than she’d ever realized before.

To lighten the mood again, she smiled. “Maybe it has, but the way I hear it you’re still quite the market item. Just last week I heard Lily Thistlewood saying she plans on getting you alone somewhere for indecent purposes before the summer starts. ”

Big Mac's blush deepened. “’Spose that’s what happens when the mares outnumber the stallions three-to-one in a town.”

“Well,” Cheerilee said, stepping off of her stool and managing to stay upright, “I think that is about as far as I can go without putting my hoof even further in my mouth. So perhaps we’d better call it a night.” She looked at the clock and was amazed to see the hands pointing almost toward midnight. “Goodness, how the time flies.”

“Yeah, guess I should be gettin’ back t’the farm,” said Big Mac, standing unsteadily.

Cheerilee’s brows knit with concern. “You sure that’s a good idea? I’ll be lucky to make it back to my place, and that’s just ten minutes away. You’ve got an hour-long walk.”

“I’ll be fine,” said Mac, taking a step and wobbling. “Or…” he swayed, putting out a hoof to the bar to steady himself. “Maybe not.”

Cheerilee shook her head slowly, suppressing a drunken whee as it swung back and forth. “You can sleep at my house, Mac. I don’t want you wandering off into the woods on accident and getting eaten by a timberwolf.”

“Timberwolves’d be bad,” he agreed. “All right. Let’s pay our tabs and head fer your place, then.”

“Right. And bring the bottle.”

In Vino Coitus

It may have been a ten minute walk if one went in a straight line, but it was almost half past midnight by the time the two of them stumbled into Cheerilee’s house, leaning on each other and laughing like drunken idiots—which, Cheerilee supposed, they were. The bottle of bourbon had been steadily draining on the trip, and at this rate it wouldn’t survive the night. Laughing was much easier than walking, at this point; Cheerilee felt bubbly and warm all over.

Big Mac made his way past the foyer with the bottle as Cheerilee shut the door, fumbling unsuccessfully with the lock. She hung her saddlebags on the coat rack, or tried to; they fell from the hook and landed messily on the floor, spilling papers. Cheerilee waved a hoof and decided she’d deal with it later. She staggered into the pink-carpeted living room and fell onto the unoccupied end seat of her blue, L-shaped couch. At the other end, Big Mac and the bottle were getting further acquainted.

She was really beginning to notice just how stunningly attractive he was. Maybe it was the whiskey talking, but Sisters, those muscles were something else. She just wanted to touch them, see if they were as steely-hard as they looked.

All right, it was definitely the whiskey talking. She'd never say something like that while sober. Out loud, anyway.

Big Mac set the bottle down on the endtable beside his seat and looked around the room, his head bobbing. “Nice place y’got here.”

Cheerilee gave a proud nod. “Thanks! You can sleep on the couch, I guess. After we finish off that bottle.” She grinned. “How much left?”

He held it up between his hooves and shook it. “’Bout a quarter of th’bottle.” He put a hoof to his head to steady himself. “Thanks again fer lettin’ me stay. You were right, I shouldn’t be walkin’ home like this.”

“No problem,” she said, blinking. The room had begun to slowly spin around the couch, and she didn’t want to tempt emesis, so she lay down on her back with her head toward Big Mac. She could feel the warmth in her cheeks and forehead, and the fuzzy heaviness that meant she was drunker than she’d been in quite a while.

Big Mac, sitting up on his haunches on the couch seat, fiddled with the bourbon. “So, Cheerilee… ‘sides Lily, there any other ponies I should be avoidin’ for the next couple weeks?”

Cheerilee snorted and burst out laughing, far too loudly, which only made her laugh harder. “Avoiding? I’ve always heard you’re quite the Casanova, Mac.”

“I didn’t earn that reputation,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Buncha crazy mares in heat season make up lots of junk like that. T’hear them tell it, half the town’s slept with th'other half.”

Cheerilee rolled over onto her stomach. Thankfully the room had stopped spinning for now. “Sooooo...” her smile turned wicked. “Have you ever…?”

“Ever what?” Mac raised an eyebrow and took a swig from the bottle.

“You know,” she said, walking over the couch cushions toward him, “Done the deed? Bucked the apple tree? Fffffffucked?” She giggled.

Between the alcohol and his red coat, it was hard to tell he was blushing, but so he was. He offered her the bottle as she sat beside him. “Eyup.”

She took the bourbon and downed a gulp. The cherries tasted better and better as the night went on, while the burn was barely even noticeable anymore. “How many?”

Big Mac shifted awkwardly. “Times? I dunno…”

“No, you goof, how many mares?” In the back of her mind, some still-sober part of her realized she was being far flirtier than was entirely appropriate, but it was easy enough to ignore through the warm haze in her head.

“Jus’ two,” he said, taking the bottle back. “Told you I weren’t no Casanova.”

Cheerilee leaned over onto his shoulder, laying her head down on the thick wooden collar. “Do you wear this thing when you sleep?”

“Nope.” Big Mac tugged at the collar. “I’d prob’ly roll over on it an’ break one of the pins.”

She put a hoof underneath the wood and tried to lift it. “Oof! It’s so heavy. Or I’m really drunk. Maybe both.”

“Definitely one of th’two,” he said, grinning.

Cheerilee gave him a light punch in the side. “Gimme that bottle.” She took another drink when he proffered it, giving it back and wiping her mouth. Savoring the cherry flavor, she sighed happily. “I’m glad we did this. It’s nice being able to talk to you again.”

“Me too.” Big Mac held the bottle between his hooves and took one long drink. Well,” he said, putting the bottle back down with a clink, “that’s th’last of that.” He turned his face toward her apologetically.

“Aw.” Cheerilee rested her chin on his shoulder. “I’m gonna have to get more of that stuff.” She looked him in the eyes and smiled. “Maybe next week?”

“Maybe,” he said, returning the smile.

“You’re cute when you’re drunk,” she said, giggling again. “Or maybe when I am.” She lifted her head a bit. “And your eyes are pretty. Like leaves in summer.”

Gently, Big Mac pulled his shoulder out from under her head, supporting her with his left hoof. “Cheerilee, I think it might be time t’go to sleep.”

Cheerilee’s face fell. “Sorry, Mac. I just… I like you. But I can back off. I don’t want to send you running for the hills, or anything.”

“It’s not that…” He bit his lip. “I like you too, Cheerilee. But y’don’t need to stoop fer me jus’ because you’re feeling lonely.”

“I’m not stooping,” she said indignantly, feeling a new rush of heat. This one wasn’t coming from her head or her stomach, it was centered further south. “And—and sure, I’m tired of spending all my time by myself in this house, but that’s not why I…” she trailed off, trying to find the right words.

Big Mac rested his hooves lightly on her shoulders. “Y’deserve somepony better than a dull ol’ apple farmer. Somepony smart, like you.”

“You are smart, Mac,” she protested. “You might not be educated, but that’s an important difference. And you didn’t give it up because you couldn’t handle it.” She touched a hoof to his cheek. “You left school—gave up your future—so your sister could have hers. And that’s the bravest thing I’ve ever seen anypony do. That’s why I like you, Mac.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Then Cheerilee grabbed the back of his head and pulled him forward into a kiss.

Big Mac froze for a moment in surprise, but almost immediately Cheerilee felt him relax. She felt one of his hooves on the back of her head, holding her closer. On his lips, she could taste the bourbon, and the heady scent of cherries and alcohol filled her nose. Encouraged, she poked her tongue into his mouth, brushing across his own.

They broke for air, pulling their mouths apart and leaning their foreheads together. Cheerilee inhaled. “Change your mind, yet?”

“I might need more convincing’,” he breathed.

She went back in, feeling the heat of his mouth joining hers. Feeling loose and happier than the alcohol alone could account for, she pressed her left hoof to his chest, feeling his firm muscles. He’s so solid, but so gentle… With her right foreleg still lying over his shoulder, she slowly pulled him with her as she lay down on her back.

They paused again, and she opened her eyes to see a small, uncertain smile on his face. Cheerilee giggled again, more from nerves now than bourbon. Kissing him again, her left hoof traced a line down his chest to his belly. When she felt him tense, she stopped.

“Well, Mac? It’s your call.” She looked openly into his eyes, smiling. “Do you want to do this?”

He nodded, not breaking eye contact. “Yes,” he said in a small voice, “Yes I do. I’m jus’ not sure I can… y’know, perform with this much liquor in me.”

Cheerilee lidded her eyes and grinned. “Maybe I should give you a performance of my own, first. To get you in the mood.”

“Pretty sure I’m in th’mood already…” he muttered, but he let her slip out from under him to scoot back on the couch toward the crook in the L-shape.

Leaning back against the couch, Cheerilee gave him a smile that was downright naughty, and reached both of her front hooves down between her hind legs. With deliberate slowness, she pulled them apart to lie on either side of the L. Her tail rolled over the edge of the couch, the curls bouncing slightly with each movement. Just above the cushion, the tips of her front hooves met at the bottom of her nether regions.

Big Mac sat up a little straighter, and Cheerilee got her first view of his own privates. His shaft was still hidden in its sheath, but she could see the bump. Well, we’ll just have to fix that, won’t we? A new rush of heat filled her from her center, and her heart beat a little faster.

“Pay attention, now,” she purred. “I might test you on this, later.” With her hooves, she slowly stroked half-circles upward on either side of her slit. Sparing a glance down at herself, she could already see little wet speckles on her lower lips. And things haven’t even gotten really exciting, yet. She pushed her hooves down and pulled her lips apart to reveal their pink interior. Her entrance quivered with anticipation.

Laying her hoof flat across the top of her slit, she slowly slid it down, leaning forward with her shoulder and giving Big Mac a sultry blink. He inhaled sharply, and her smile widened. Closing her eyes, she pulled the hoof back up, dragging the smooth bottom of it across her damp slit.

Spreading her legs a little more and leaning back into the soft couch backing, she began stroking herself. Her labia were growing puffy with arousal, and the heat inside her was starting to make her sweat. She breathed out, increasing the pace of her hoof.

Her brow glistening with sweat, she rubbed harder. She wasn’t using a hairbrush or anything, but the fact that Big Mac was right there watching her made this infinitely more arousing than playing with herself normally was. A periodic ah reached her ears, and she realized she was panting for breath.

Those high school fantasies she’d let slip earlier were coming back to her. Brief visions of Mac rutting her behind the bleachers or in the locker room spurred her hoof to greater speeds. She bit her lip as her hoof slid between her labia, making slippery, wet noises. Oh, yes, right here in the classroom… none of the teachers are around this late after school, take me right on the desk, Mac… She squeezed her thighs around her hoof.

Of course, she actually did have access to an empty classroom, now. This brought a flurry of new images: bending over her teacher’s desk and spreading her legs for Mac, biting down on her #1 Teacher! apple as he mounted her from behind; him sitting on the desk while she stroked his shaft, a look of bliss on his face; him hiding under the desk and thrusting his tongue inside her, making her squirm as she tried to teach a class of unsuspecting students, oh that was dirty… they grew more ridiculous and impossible by the second, but they were hot, and that was all that mattered right now.

Cheerilee cracked one of her eyes open to see Mac watching her with rapt attention. One of his hooves was almost absently stroking his member, which had finally emerged victorious in its fight with the whiskey. The top was mottled brown, and though it was still only halfway-erect, it looked plenty big enough to match the rest of his frame. She felt a quiver of excitement, like a bolt of lightning shooting up her spine. Oh, Sisters, I need to be fucked so badly right now.

She straightened up and turned around, facing away from Mac. Sticking her haunches in the air, she pressed her face into the cushion and stuck her hoof under her belly toward her now-aching vagina. She flicked the tip of her hoof across it rapidly, breathing in and out with a little oh each time. Her tail swayed back and forth, lifted enough to reveal her hoof and its slippery task every time it swung past.

“Unh, Cheerilee… I think I’m ready,” said Mac. Cheerilee twisted her head on the cushion to see him sitting there, rock hard, his hoof resting on the shaft. Beads of sweat shone on his skin. Cheerilee couldn’t wait to feel his damp chest sliding over her back. Maybe it would relieve some of the burning in her loins.

Still rubbing herself in tight circles, she lifted her tail higher and smiled eagerly. “Come on over.”

He rose from the couch, stumbling a little, and made his way over to her. As he approached, she slid her hindquarters off the couch and planted her rear hooves wide apart on the carpet. She pulled her right hoof up from its pleasant ministrations and brought it to her mouth. Twisting her back to make sure Mac could see her, she slowly licked it.

His jaw hung loose for a moment, and his tongue lolled out. “Y’do much more of that and this ain’t gonna last very long.”

With a coy smile, she gave the tip of her hoof a little suckle. “Better hurry, then.”

Mac made a noise halfway between a pained whine and a whimper. Scrambling forward, he leaned over Cheerilee’s back and placed his hooves on the couch on either side of her head. Cheerilee lifted her tail in invitation, closing her eyes and biting her lip eagerly.

She felt the gentle pressure of him on her back, his weight shifting as he lifted a hoof. There was a firm poke on her rear, a bit too high, and her eyebrows arched. “Whoa-ho, there, Mac. Wrong target.”

“Sorry,” he muttered thickly. “I’m havin’ a little difficulty aimin’…”

Cheerilee’s head buzzed as her pulse quickened. The prodding on her bottom moved down, until she felt it sweep across her lower lips. I almost can’t believe this is happening, she thought with mounting excitement. I hope the whiskey doesn’t dull things too badly…

As he parted her folds and slid inside, the rush of pleasure that vibrated through her was her answer.

“Slow at first,” she breathed, “so I can get used to it.”

Mac granted her request. Centimeter by centimeter, his shaft pushed deeper inside her, tingling nerves that even her hairbrush couldn’t reach. Cheerilee’s chest rose and fell shakily as she adjusted to his generous size. He was easily the biggest stallion she’d ever had inside her, and it had been so many years since her last roll in the hay that she had nearly forgotten the feeling of a good thick dick between her legs.

The slow, grinding friction of it against her inner walls made the whiskey-soaked heat in her head even hazier. Cheerilee hugged the pillow, resisting the urge to go wild and start slamming her butt against his pelvis. “Mmmmac…” she mumbled.

He pulled back just as slowly, with what seemed to Cheerilee like a heroic effort. Her muscles seemed relieved as they loosened in his absence, but she desperately needed him back in there. “A little f-fffaster.”

Mac grunted an affirmative, and pushed himself deep inside her in one swift move. It forced the air out of Cheerilee’s lungs with a haaah, and her knees buckled. She straightened them immediately and hugged her pillow tighter.

Now, Mac began moving in earnest. His thick, firm rod plunged inside her with each stroke, withdrawing and returning in the same slick, wet cadence. Against her back, she could feel the tension rippling in his muscles, echoed by her own as she squeezed him inside. His heavy breath, still smelling of sweet cherries, brushed against her neck and played with her mane.

She heard him inhale, and felt the gentle touch of his head beside hers. “Y’smell so nice, Cheerilee,” he murmured, still pumping his hips against hers. “Like… fresh daisies an’ sunshine, if that makes any sense…”

“Th-thanks,” she managed to squeak out between his thrusts. “Oh, Mac, I… I think I overdid it, with that solo act.” She clenched her hip muscles. “I’m already so close; I can feel it.”

Mac gave her ear a soft nip. “Don’t fret about it.”

“Oo…okay…” she whispered, unable to concentrate on anything beside the ample member shoving inside her. If he kept stuffing her, she wasn’t going to last the next two minutes. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

“Faster?” he asked, seemingly reading her mind.

All she could manage was a muffled, “Mmhm.”

Mac obliged, almost ramming himself inside her. Cheerilee’s hips bucked backward involuntarily, trying to get as much of him inside her as comfortably possible. She bit the pillow to contain the very loud moans trying to escape her throat.

Cheerilee reached a hoof down toward her stomach, where she could feel a periodic nudge as he rutted her. She held it there, feeling him inside and out, panting at the thought of how hot this was, her brain drowning in a sea of pleasure and need.

Her hoof crept lower, to the sensitive nub just below where Mac’s shaft was gliding in and out of her. Gingerly, she brushed against it, and immediately gasped as a bolt of delight shot through her. Without thinking, she began rubbing it, bumping her hoof against Mac’s length in his feverish thrusting. For a brief moment, the fantasy returned, and she imagined they were in her classroom, making love on her desk.

Cheerilee’s back arched, and her muscles clenched tightly around Mac’s dick. She gave a wordless scream into the pillow, shuddering from her head to her hooves. A trickle of extra fluid ran down the inside of her thigh, setting her skin aflame wherever it touched. The incredible pleasure seized her again and again in bursts of tightening muscles and jerky hoof movements.

At last, she settled back to reality, quivering all over. Mac had paused, still large and firm within her. “Did you jus’, uh… cum?”

Cheerilee nodded mutely, blushing in a sudden attack of self-consciousness. Mac leaned his head down and kissed her on the cheek. She tilted her head back, pulling him further with her left hoof, and kissed him back on the lips. When they finally pulled apart, she sighed happily. Inside, she felt him twitch. “Oh, haven’t you—” She blushed deeper, smiling. “Well, don’t stop on my account, Mac.”

“Thank y’kindly,” he said, resuming his rapid hip motion. Cheerilee, still basking in the glow from her climax, laid the left side of her head down on the pillow and smiled, giving him an occasional squeeze with her legs. Though the heat in her loins had subsided, it was not entirely gone, still pulsing warmly with every thrust.

Mac’s pace increased again, and she could hear him grunting with tension. He bucked frantically, plunging into her faster and faster. Cheerilee touched his right hoof with hers, softly stroking it, waiting for him to reach his own peak.

“Nnnh, Cheerilee…” he groaned. “Almos’…”

Cheerilee rocked back and forth in rhythm with him, savoring the wet slapping sounds as their sweaty skin connected. Suddenly, Mac uttered a low, deep “Unh,” and a hot flower blossomed inside Cheerilee’s abdomen. Mac convulsed, shoving into her in sporadic bursts, and the wet, sticky heat expanded to fill her depths.

He rode her for a little longer, pressing down on her back to support himself, releasing spurt after spurt of cum inside her. Cheerilee felt a fiery heat rush through her head again, as if his seed was the spark that set her mind aflame. At last, his thrusts slowed to a stop, holding still within her. She felt a little of his cum leaking from her entrance.

She gave a satisfied mumble. “Mmm. Just as much as I was expecting from somepony your size...”

“Buh… beg y’pardon,” he wheezed. “I usually try t’warn m’partner before I…”

“Don’t worry about it,” she soothed, echoing his earlier words of comfort.

The pressure on her back finally lifted as he pushed himself up. “Uh… don’t think I can get out without makin’ a mess.”

Cheerilee shrugged. “I’ve been meaning to steam-clean my carpet for months, anyway. Try not to get any on the couch, though.” She knew it was going to be a pain to clean up later, but she was drunk enough not to care right now.

Mac slid out of her, his passage eased by the impressive amount of lubricant he’d gushed into her. Cheerilee stepped shakily away from the couch, turning to face him with a smile. Thick white cum had already begun slowly dripping from between her lower lips, so she stemmed it with her front right hoof. Mac had lain down on the carpet, face-up, breathing deeply. His softening member, covered in the messy mixture of their fluids, lay flopped over his stomach.

Cheerilee felt a twinge of disappointment—finishing early compared to him meant that their subsequent rutting had left her aroused all over again. She lay down sideways next to him, still pressing her hoof between her legs. “Have fun?”

“Eyup,” he said, blowing out a breath. “You’re amazin’, Cheerilee.”

“Do you think you’ve, um…” Cheerilee kissed his cheek. “Think you’ve got a round two in you?”

“I don’t know,” he said, a smile sneaking onto his face, “but I’m willin’ t’try.”

Cheerilee gave an electric grin and rolled her higher leg over his. She straddled him, placing both of her front hooves over his shoulders to balance herself. A little stream of cum drooled out from her entrance, back onto Mac’s shaft. “Mind if I ride, cowboy?”

“Nope. But y’might need to help me out first,” he said. His limp, sticky member twitched up toward her briefly before flopping back down.

Cheerilee’s grin turned sly again. She let her hind legs slide further out to the sides, bringing her down into contact with him again. As she rubbed herself against his dick, their mixed cum spilled out over it like runny syrup. She paused. Oh, now there’s an idea.

She thought about it for a few seconds. Well, why not? I’ve already tasted myself tonight, I may as well try Mac. She shut her eyes, leaned down, and kissed him again. “Better enjoy this,” she said as they broke for air, “I don’t think you’ll want your tongue in my mouth after this.”

Mac, his eyes closed, raised an eyebrow, but gladly took her up on the advice. His tongue teased hers, pressing sensitive spots with its tip. Air from his nostrils whuffed across her face, and she felt a quiver in her hindquarters.

Pulling away so slowly that a strand of saliva dripped to her chin, Cheerilee inched backwards off of him until his half-erect member was right in front of her face. She tilted her head to the side and bent it down, taking his base sideways in her mouth. Sucking it in with her mouth, she moved up his length, smearing cum across her lips and nose. When she reached the tip, she lay her head on his chest and suckled the flat head of his member.

The combination of alcohol and an orgasm meant that he wasn’t immediately going stiff, which in turn meant she could easily fit most of him into her mouth. Cheerilee pushed down, licking him as his dick disappeared between her lips. She went all the way to his balls, where she tightened her lips. In a single smooth motion, she pulled her head back off, sucking off all the leftover cum.

Her mouth full, she turned her head to look at Mac, whose eyes were half-closed in blissful pleasure. She made a show of swilling his seed around in her mouth before visibly swallowing. It tasted… slightly salty, but not overly strong. It wasn’t a taste she enjoyed that much, but the look of passionate desire Mac gave her was absolutely delicious. She licked her lips and the tip of her nose to get the last of it, and swallowed that, too.

Now he was growing hard again. Cheerilee gave him a few more licks for good measure, finishing her oral pleasuring with a long suck on his tip. His erection poked up at her, and his hips twitched.

Cheerilee crawled back up over him, pressing her loins down against his, feeling the heat diffuse between them. “You liked that?”

Mac nodded enthusiastically. “Y’ever done that before?”

Blushing, she returned the nod. “Yes… but I’ve never swallowed before.”

He grinned, and pulled her head down to kiss her nose. “Then I’m even luckier’n I thought.”

Inflamed with passion, Cheerilee pinned his hooves to the carpet on either side. “Keep talking like that and I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t remember your name in the morning.”

“Language, Miss Cheerilee,” he teased, gently bucking his hips. His member rubbed between them.

Cheerilee took that as her signal, and began softly grinding against it. The fur around their aching loins was soon wet and matted with sweat and her latest rush of arousal. She pressed down so that his member squeezed lengthways between her lower lips. Stroking up and down it with her hips, she watched with pleasure as Mac’s head leaned back and his tongue lolled out.

She pushed more firmly, rubbing her slit over him, trembling whenever her hot button bumped over his medial ring. Her belly, slick with sweat, pressed into his as she rolled her hips back and forth. She laid her head on his chest and listened to his rapid heartbeat, smiling and biting her lip.

“Mmm… Cheerilee…” Mac’s voice was hoarse. “If y’wanted to ride, y’might want t’do it soon…”

Cheerilee grinned wickedly. Not before I tease you a bit more. She moved faster, sliding over his slick member with a schlicking sound that brought out even more of her natural lubricant in some sort of erotic feedback loop. She touched her tongue to the nape of Mac’s neck, licking upward.

He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes tight. “Can’t—”

A huge, thick shot of white fluid flew out from between them, splashing across Cheerilee’s chest. With her nether lips wrapped so tightly around the sides of his shaft, she could feel every spasm as Mac came, each enormous bolt of semen as it traveled up his length and fired out to smear across her underside.

As the tremors subsided, he lifted his head and gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry. That was a little too much for me.”

Cheerilee gave him a pouty frown. “No, no, it’s my fault; I pushed you too long.” She sighed and shrugged. “Well, it’s fine. I’m getting sleepy anyw—”

One of Mac’s hooves reached between them, cutting her short with a surprised squeak. He smiled at her. “Wouldn’ be very hospitable of me t’leave my host unsatisfied.”

Cheerilee exhaled as his hoof began working at her folds. “I s-suppose not.”

Mac didn’t seem to care that he was getting the mess all over his coat. He made a pulling motion with his hoof, dragging from the bottom of her slit to the live wire at its top. Cheerilee panted as he probed her, grinding her hips against his hoof.

He lifted his head, his mouth slightly open, but Cheerilee leaned back. “Mac, I need to wash my mouth out—”

“Y’swallowed, right? I don’t care that much, anyway. I want t’kiss y’again, Cheerilee.”

She smiled hesitantly, and leaned down. Their lips met once more, and their tongues explored each other. Cheerilee put her forelegs over his shoulders, riding on his hoof, her eyes closed and lips locked to his.

When at last she came, it was almost a shame for signaling the end of that intimate moment. Her body trembled all over, and the wave of pleasure washed over her. She squeezed tightly on Mac’s hoof, trying to shove the tip of it as deep inside her as it could go. Her embrace on his shoulders tightened, and her kiss pushed Mac’s head back to the floor. Little flecks of mare cum leaked out over his hoof, and a series of low moans rose from Cheerilee’s throat.

She came to rest at last, lying on top of him. His damp hoof patted her on the back, and she smiled. “Thanks, Mac. Your heart’s as big as the rest of you.”

He grinned. “Not th’first time I’ve heard that joke.”

Cheerilee giggled. “That’s not what I meant.” She nuzzled her head under his chin. “Oh, Mac… I think… I think I fell for you, way back on that Hearts and Hooves Day. For real, after that love potion nonsense. It just took me a while to realize it.”

Mac rubbed her shoulders. “I know, Cheerilee. I wanted t’ask you out t’dinner or somethin’, but it still felt awkward, so I jus’… never did. An’ then we ended up avoidin’ each other for such a long time…”

“You’re a fine young stallion who’d give anything to help the ones you care about, Mac. That’s why I’m… that’s why I love you,” she said, shyly. She tilted her head up in curiosity. “But what on earth do you see in me?”

“Th’exact same thing,” he said, smiling. “Y’wanted t’be a big professor at some college, but instead y’came back here t’help your hometown. Since you started teachin’, this whole town’s gotten brighter. The kids can imagine real futures now, thanks t’you, an’ they’re mad for ‘em. They’re goin’ t’do great things.

“You came back ‘cause they needed you. Jus’ like Applebloom needs me and Applejack to work the farm. An’ that’s why I love you, Cheerilee.”

Cheerilee snuggled closer to him, as happy as she’d ever been. “We’ll have to be… discreet. Wouldn’t want the town to go spreading rumors. And, well, the later Applebloom figures out we’re seeing each other, the better.”

“Then we’ll do it proper-like,” said Mac. “How ‘bout dinner on Monday night?”

“It’s a date,” she said, tapping him on the nose and giving him a kiss. “I guess we should go wash up in the shower. Unless you want to sleep right here?” She was awfully comfortable in his big hooves.

“Washin’ up sounds good,” he said, smiling. “’Sides, I’d like t’see your bed.”

Cheerilee stood up, grinning. “Don’t worry. I think it’s big enough for two.” They left the room toward the bathroom together, still nuzzling.

Tomorrow, Cheerilee would find herself dealing with a filthy carpet, a pile of homework, and a hangover the size of Canterlot; but right now things were absolutely perfect.

And as long as she had Big Macintosh by her side, they would stay that way.