Animal Husbandry 2: He's So Screwed

Thirteen ended the kiss the way she began it, slowly and tentatively.

It had felt different than the one earlier in the day, more relaxed and natural. She had melted into his arms, pressed herself against him. He had felt her warmth and her need.

Now, after she pulled gently away, he could see the tracks of the tears she had cried not half an hour before.

“Give me some time, OK. I do wanna give you a chance. Just be patient with me.”

They hugged again, and drove back to the farm. They didn't talk very much, but the silence felt very different now. For one thing, Thirteen was smiling, and that smile may not have had the manic exuberance of her sisters', but it was every bit as infectious.

The girls came bouncing out to meet them, accompanied by colorful balloons. He opened the driver side door, and Thirteen bounded out behind him to the cheers of her sisters. Confetti floated down from above, surely Number Sixteen's doing.

A wave of bouncing pink ponies carried them to a hut, where the girls had prepared a party. The farmer's stomach grumbled – he had forgotten to eat lunch.

Thirteen talked to the other girls, and occasionally shot him a sweet glance. The farmer could guess what she told Sixteen, who rolled on the floor laughing after she described how the ex-farmer's girlfriend looked.

He relaxed and took a breath. Things were normal again, as normal as they got on a Pinkie farm.

Number Eleven bounced up to him with a slice of cake on a plate in her mouth. He took the plate and the pink pony smiled brightly. “Here you go! Let me know if you need anything else!”

He was used to the Pinkies' casual, constant flirting, but there was something in the way Eleven looked at him with shining blue eyes and an intense gaze that made him wonder what was going on inside her poofy-haired head.

The cake was delicious. She watched him wolf it down, and rubbed a little against his leg.

He knelt down next to the sitting pony, and stroked her fuzzy pink ear. She had been such a big help figuring out what was wrong with Number Thirteen, and he told her how much he appreciated her help.

“Hey! We Pinkies have to look out for each other! And my Pinkie Sense told me it was a good time to go after you!”

Her intuition had served her well indeed. He hugged her, and as he smelled the sugary scent of her dark pink curls, he recognized another, spicier scent. It may not only have been Pinkie Sense that sent her after him.

She giggled and blushed at the suggestion, and nodded.

The party had taken on a momentum of its own. Thirteen was surrounded by her sisters, and even if her hair still hung lankly over her face, she was at least smiling. She noticed him looking, and quickly glanced over to Number Eleven before winking and shooing him away with a fore-hoof.

Number Eleven was rubbing against his leg, vibrating.

They left the hut, and Eleven made it perhaps a dozen whole bounces before stopping suddenly with a gasp. “My Pinkie Sense!”

She lifted her pink haunches, and her poofy tail arched over her back to her lowered shoulders. “Tail lift!”

She gave him a long, salacious wink. “Flirty wink!”

Her hips undulated side-to-side. “Hip wiggle!”

Number Eleven gave him a serious look. “That means somebody wants to fuck me!”

He didn't feel like debating the details of cause and effect with her. The stiffness in his pants was enough to confirm her prediction.

On the other hand, the last thing he wanted today was to be rushed into something by a Pinkie. He knelt behind her, and grasped her haunches. Eleven sighed contentedly as he spread her cheeks.

She was very much in heat. Her little party button was fully everted, and her outer lips were swollen and hot, split to reveal her Pinkiest parts, wet and eager.

He let go of her balloon-emblazoned hips and ran his hand along her back. She pushed herself towards him, and as his hands reached her shoulders, she spun around in a blur of pink curls and sat on his lap, holding him close with her fore-hooves as her over-excited marehood rubbed against the stiffness inside his pants.

He saw her long-lashed blue eyes close as her muzzle locked with his lips, and she rubbed her party button against his straining hard cock as their tongues twisted inside each other's mouth, warm and wet and insistent. He thought he could feel a trace of wetness as she ground her hindquarters against him.

The farmer wasn't sure how much longer he could hold himself back from rutting the horny pink mare. She was melting, and wanted him inside her, pumping away inside her welcoming walls.

She sighed a little when he pushed her over on her back. Her rear hooves spread wide, and her lower belly and hindquarters were a symphony in pink. Her soft pink belly ended with two blushing pink mounds, topped with stiff little pink nipples, leading down to her extraordinarily eager opening. She gasped as he began a trail of kisses, starting at the top over her chest, where her heart was pounding like a jackhammer.

The farmer moved slowly down, and took a side trip to her soft pink mounds, blushing pinker than her belly, and she moaned as his tongue teased her stiff milk nubs. He took a playful suck on one, and her rear hooves wrapped around his neck to hold him close as he tongued and sucked on her pink party pony teats.

Her blue eyes were half closed, and she was shaking with lust and anticipation. She eagerly released him as he rolled over and eased himself out from under her.

A few droplets of Pinkie juice dribbled down her inner thighs when she heard him unzip his pants. She couldn't stand to wait any longer.

He entered her, and Number Eleven didn't let him tease her. Feeling his hardness fill up her overheated hole made her squeal with lust, and she began eagerly pumping him as he thrust against her, threatening to pull out, and she pressed against him, pushing his hot hard cock deep inside her, giving her wet walls something to grasp.

His balls slammed against her stiff little party button as she struggled to hold herself together. It felt so good...

They were out in the open, half-way to the farmhouse, the farmer's pants down around his knees as he fucked Number Eleven, heard her squeals become deeper and throatier and more rhythmic. He found her pulse, felt the cool late afternoon air on his Pinkie-slicked balls as he pulled out and thrust back in to her hungry, horny warmth, her cries of pleasure driving him on.

His cock throbbed. He looked at her tight little pink butthole, stuck his thumb in his mouth, and then gently pressed the wet tip of his digit into her anus.

Her response was nearly instantaneous.

A gush of Pinkie cum soaked his balls as the gasping pink pony's pussy pumped his prick, squeezing one hot load of semen after another deep inside the moaning Number Eleven.

Soon his seed joined her juice dripping down his balls. Sated, Number Eleven lay down on her side, pulling him out of her, and he saw his seed drip down her haunches from between her pussy lips.

They held each other for a time, and then parted with a long kiss, hot and sweaty and satisfied.

The sun was going down as the farmer showered. Eleven had needed that badly, and so had he.

He ate a sandwich in his kitchen, and watched Pinkies straggle out of the hut back to their stalls. He was tired, and he'd had a hell of a day.

The farmer went to bed early. As he prepared to lie down, he heard a knock at the door.

Number Thirteen smiled bashfully at him, and he welcomed her to his room.

“I... I don't want to be alone right now. May I?”

She lay her head on his broad shoulders as he pulled the covers over them, holding her as her lank mane spread out on his chest. She turned out the light, and they cuddled as they drifted off to sleep, Number Thirteen warm and soft against his side.