Cheerilee had to suppress a sigh as she picked up the next essay from her stack of work needing to be marked and returned to her class of students. While marking was always a tedious process for her, this particular batch of works was especially so.

The current topic of study for the class was the facts of life, a topic that always resulted in the class either clamping up and refusing to answer any questions at all, or bursting out laughing when somepony said a supposedly dirty word.

It was Monday, and over the weekend Cheerilee had asked all her students to write up an essay describing the process of reproduction. All she had wanted was to make sure that they understood the basic process, as they were all starting to get to the age where certain biological stimuli would be beginning to take effect in their bodies.

What she had gotten was a bunch of fairly clinical essays, all describing what the students understood about the process of reproduction. Some, like Twist's, showed a total lack of understanding; Twist had written that babies were delivered by the Lunar Stork. Apple Bloom's had been better until Cheerilee realised that she was describing how you grew a tree from a seed or acorn. Misleading phrases like 'a stallion must plant his virile seed in fertile soil' had seemed promising until it became clear that Apple Bloom meant a literal seed and soil.

Sweetie Belle's essay had been exemplary. She had accurately described the process of a mare entering her estrus cycle, about how a stallion would detect her receptive state, and how he would have to ejaculate inside her vagina to fertilize her egg. Clearly Sweetie Belle's parents had sat her down and given her 'the talk' already.

Silver Spoon's essay had been almost as good. Not quite as descriptive as Sweetie Belle's, but still filled with more than enough detail to show that she understood the basics.

The rest of them had all been more or less the same. All except for Diamond Tiara's. Hers had been rather a bit different, and the first time Cheerilee had read it, she had needed to take comfort in one of her oldest friends, a shot of Buck Daniels. Rather than write a simple sterile and clinical essay about how a mare and a stallion made a baby, Diamond had turned her assignment into a complete narrative, with characters and dialogue. A narrative that Cheerilee could only describe as pornographic.

To make matters worse, while Diamond Tiara hadn't named names, the two characters in the story were clearly meant to be her and Big Macintosh. Diamond had only used the names of Farmhand and Schoolteacher, but there was no question it was meant to be them.

Worst of all, however was that despite all that, Cheerilee was forced to admit that the story actually fulfilled all her requirements for the essay. It contained an accurate rendition of the schoolteacher entering heat, copulating with the farmhand, and then the narrative skipped ahead months to when she gave birth. But more than that, the story was actually not bad. And it touched upon one of Cheerilee's greatest fantasies, one she had never told anyone.

It would be a dark and stormy night and she would be at home when Big Mac would arrive on her doorstop, dripping wet and steaming. He wouldn't say anything to her, but he would just put his arms around her and pull her into a kiss before picking her up and leading her into the bedroom, where he would ravish her for hours until they were both spent.

The farmhand in the story did almost exactly that.

Idly, Cheerilee picked up Diamond's story again. It wasn't all that long, only a couple of pages of hoof written script. That the filly could have conceived of and written such a tale in two days was impressive; she probably had a promising career ahead of her as a novelist, if she could be bothered pursuing such a path.

Cheerilee's eyes skimmed over the pages again, taking in the details of the story.

The Farmhand turned around, and he saw her. The Schoolteacher was standing there, eyes downcast among the hay bales. The smell hit him instantly; she was in heat. Though nothing had been said, he knew why she was there. There could only be one reason as to why she had come to him alone.

Cheerilee stopped reading when she felt a sudden twitch between her legs. While she had been lost in the story, one of her hooves had made its way down her stomach and was resting on her clitoris. Cheerilee blushed, but she didn't remove the offending hoof. Instead, she idly circled her clit while she pushed forwards into the story, heading towards some of the more juicy parts.

The Farmhand broke the kiss and threw the Schoolteacher down to the ground. Desire burned in his eyes as he looked at her. He wanted her, and she wanted him. He advanced on her, sprawled amid the hay with purpose in his step. She welcomed him, reclining on her back and spreading her legs apart. Between his legs, she saw his member, proud and ready for service.

Cheerilee's legs spread open, mimicking the actions of her counterpart in the story. In her minds eye she could see it all - her in the hay bales, Big Mac standing before her gazing lustfully at her as she presented herself to him. Her hoof now moved freely, teasing and prising her lips apart as she lost herself in her fantasy.

"Oh, yes, Mac. Fill me up. I'll carry your foals."

In her mind, Mac came closer, closer. She could practically smell the sweat on him; that unique aroma of hard work and primal male musk. His hoof reached out a stroked the side of her face, leaving a tingling feeling behind. Cheerilee responded by spreading herself even wider.

Reaching out, Cheerilee grabbed an old pointer stick she kept near her desk. Thicker than the newer ones she used at school, this one had a large bulbous brass head to it that would make for a perfect replacement for...

Cheerilee gasped as the cold tip of Mac's penis brushed against her stomach. He swirled around her legs for a few moments, absorbing her heat before sliding down to her loins. She felt him probe her opening, parting her lips but not quite entering her; clearly just testing the waters and making sure that he was fully slick. He didn't want to hurt her after all.

Soon he was ready, and Cheerilee watched on as Mac aligned himself up with her labial lips. She held her breath in anticipation; the first thrust was always a little painful, but worth it in the end. Mac seemed to be savouring the moment, but finally he pushed forwards and his penis slipped inside like a welcome guest.

Cheerilee moaned as he filled her; his rod pushing her walls aside and stretching her out. It hurt slightly, but her loins burned with the pleasure of being filled. Mac held himself within her, allowing her the time she needed to adjust to his girth. Cheerilee could feel him twitching slightly with every heartbeat.

Finally, she felt she was ready and Mac started to thrust within her, slowly at first to settle into a smooth rhythm. On every second stroke, he went a little deeper, building up the force of his thrusts.

It felt so good, having Mac inside her. He was so strong, so confident in his manner. Every thrust was deliberate, measured, controlled; Cheerilee no longer felt any pain, only the hot pleasure every time he dove back into her. Still, she needed more. She wanted that animalistic fury she knew he was capable of.

The farmhand ploughed the schoolteacher harder, letting feral hunger drive him forwards. Each thrust was more savage than the last, recklessly pushing him deeper into her most intimate areas. She was gasping with every thrust now, moaning out his name amid the inarticulate utterances of a mare lost in the throes of pleasure.

Hunger glinted in his eyes. It wouldn't be long now before the climax. Already, he could feel the tingling tightness from his balls signalling the oncoming climax. He would release his seed into this willing mare, and she in return would bare his foals.

Cheerilee wanted it; no she needed it. She needed Big Mac's seed.

"Please, Mac," she whimpered, pleading with the imaginary figment of her fantasy. "I need your cum, Mac. Fill me up until I burst. I want your babies. Please, let me have your babies."

Mac increased his speed, clearly heading for the end game. Cheerilee felt him flare inside her, getting closer to his release. Closer… Closer.

Cum.

Cheerilee thrust the pointer rod as deep as she could inside her vagina, pushing the brass knob right up against her cervix. Her eyes screwed up tight as she came around the rod. Sparkles of light danced behind her eyelids, dazzling her. Her body spasmed, wracked with pleasure.

And throughout all of it, in her mind, Big Mac was right there, giving her the greatest gift of all - precious life.

Then the pleasure overrode her ability to think, and all cracked to black.

Cheerilee came down from her high slowly, panting heavily. Her mind was fuzzy, as if her head was filled with cotton balls. Her hooves lost their strength and the pointer slid from her grasp, slipping out of her and falling to the ground. Without it, she felt empty, spent.

Trying to get her racing heart back under control, she blinked her way back to reality, the fantasy fading away around her. She was so happy there; she could have been brood mother to a whole generation of new Apple's, but reality exerted its grip on her again.

She was on the floor of her study, with a distinct wet patch staining the carpet under her. Her pointing stick was next to her, the brass knob gleaming from the extra layer of polish she had just applied to it. On the other side of her was Diamond Tiara's essay. Thankfully it had remained out of the path of her fantasy and appeared to be undamaged.

The clock on the wall struck ten, and Cheerilee realised that she had just spent the last hour pleasuring herself. She had totally lost track of time as Big Macintosh had made love to her. She had to get to bed, lest she be unable to complete her role as teacher tomorrow. And maybe, just maybe, Mac would be waiting for her in her dreams.

Just as she was about to leave, she turned around and grabbed her beloved red marker and dotted down something on the front page of Diamond's essay.

A+

Author's Note

sbloom85: The following day, Cheerilee learns that the clopfic was actually written by Big Macintosh.

Be sure to check out Fimbulvinter's other works.