“Really, why did you come here?”
It might have been easier to ask that when she was standing in the frame of the door, rather than resting against your side. Because right now, despite what you’ve just said, you really don’t care about the why but are content to enjoy her company. Then again, she’s always been taken by that ‘human curiosity’.
“Ah just wanted to see you.” Applejack doesn’t say it too loudly and she doesn’t look at you right away. Those deep green eyes still stare out the window at the evening’s sun, casting the colours of her coat and mane across the sky.
Ever the Element of Honesty, there’s a charm to her answer that warms your heart. But there’s something else there; something unsaid. You can hear it in just how she says it; that slow, low tone. She may as well be the Element of Toughness; getting her to even admit that she’d been calling out for more than just to peruse your paintings had almost been like pulling teeth.
But now you just look at her looking at you with those same green eyes that caught your attention all those months ago. The golden locks of her mane spill down her neck and withers, mostly, but a few stray strands lie along her brow, threatening to tickle her nose. Applejack’s hat sits hanging just inside the door--she’d learned quickly enough both that, you enjoyed stroking her hair and that it could feel inordinately good--but you’ve taken the liberty of undoing the hairband.
“An’ you wanted to see me, looks like.” The mare chuckles quietly at your ogling and for a second it’s like you’re sitting with her on her porch seat, both deliberating about kissing the other and then coming together messily. Applejack’s always been like that: confident, strong, a born leader. And yet… All it takes is a hand along her neck, across her muscled withers and around to the gentle curve of her chest to leave her lost for words.
You can feel the gentle thump-thump of her heart as well as the slow rise and fall of her chest - broader than most ponies and again many mares. Then she’s back to smiling her little off-kilter smile, one ear flicking back as she looks down from you.
“I did,” you say softly, reaching back around her to give a gentle pull, “the city doesn’t feel the same without you here.”
Applejack leans in against you, letting her head rest against the side of your chest just under your shoulder. Her coat feels warm and velvety soft against your skin and her mane gently tickles against you. It’s like that first day back on the farm, all those months ago. She was just as gentle then, if a little more hesitant about it all. How was she to know how you would react to those advances?
But since then you’ve had more than your fair share of run-ins with her; sometimes finding her alone in the orchard and just… watching. Watching those strong legs rear up and smack the trees, the way the blow would ripple up through her body, along those toned buttocks, across her slightly muscled flanks but all done with her same dedication. When Applejack noticed you watching, she’d stand tall and proud, waiting for you to approach. The little trickling lines of sweat on her body glistened in the afternoon sun and then disappeared as you ran a hand over her flank.
The stoic show was so easy to break, too; all it took was tipping her hat back until a few more locks of that bright blonde hair was exposed and for you to lean in and brush your lips to hers, green eyes falling shut and a sly smile tugging back her lips. From the corner of your eye you saw her legs starting to shake slightly, little tremors running through them until your hand slid down her neck--the muscles as hard as iron ‘neath your skin but belied by the softness of her coat--onto her chest. In that way she was quite unlike a human woman, welcoming that kind of touch. Then her racing heart would slow, moving back to its steady rhythm as she leaned forward and joined you in a gentle kiss.
Looking at that smiling face, now, recalls you to the present and just how easy it might be to steal one.
“What were you thinkin’ about?” Applejack asks quietly, snuggling in tighter against your side and letting her legs drape across the couch.
“I was thinking of how pleasant it was back on the orchard. Rolling hills, gentle breezes, cool shade and tasty apples.” You almost regret saying those words at the slight fall in the mare’s expression; it’s easy to forget that for all her worldliness, she can sometimes take those remarks to heart.
“I’d wager there was one Apple that you always came back for.” The moment passed, Applejack looks more like she had. “Ah know Ah’d spend some time lookin’ over my shoulder, hopin’ to see someone coming visitin’.”
With as much mock hurt as you can muster, you say to her, “Applejack, you should’ve told me I was distracting you like that! I’d make sure to arrange and come after you’d finished working for the day.”
The mare sighs breathily and lets out a hearty chuckle, nuzzling in against your chest. “Yeah, yeah; you know it was your little visits that made those days all the better.”
Your hand strays down just a little lower, across her firm chest and onto the gentle curve of her stomach. It’s warmer than you expected but then she still hasn’t gotten used to this kind of intimacy. And you have been apart for some time--too long, you’d agree with her--and there’s little sense in not showing her how much you appreciate her taking the time to come out here.
The short hair that coats her body is a shade lighter around her stomach; better for your fingers to feel the soft skin underneath. Applejack just sighs, stretching herself out that you might more freely move but in doing so, she pushes her head up and turns her ears down, realising what she’s doing.
“Sorry,” she murmurs, trying to disentangle herself from you. “Ah don’t mean to be gettin’ all ornery on you.”
Taking her momentary lapse, you lift your legs onto the couch and slide one under her, twisting about so that she’s lying with her side against your abdomen. Applejack looks up with wide, questioning eyes but while you continue to shuffle under her, you simply smile back.
“Is that what you think you were doing?” One of your hands stretches down the arch of her back, sending a little shiver through the pony caught in your embrace. “I thought you were just looking for a little attention.”
Applejack’s ears pin further back and she starts to turn about to lie face-to-face. “Ah-heh, am Ah that easy to read?”
In a way she was; there was little of herself that she ever kept concealed from you but more than that--more than she’d ever likely admit--she wore her heart on her sleeve. She was never afraid to tell you ‘no’ or to gently seek your indulgence and she never feared what answer may come or what you might say.
Was it just that kind of patience with a new lover or did the mare mean something more to you? Certainly, you didn’t wish to treat her as just some quick fling to be forgotten about a week later; she’s beautiful, strong, more intelligent and incisive than she gives herself credit for, stubborn as a mule, slow to change her mind… But you’d never want her any other way.
“I think I’m just getting to know you better,” you respond, threading your fingers through the thick locks of her mane.
Without the ties binding her mane and tail, it’s free to spill about over her neck and shoulders and with her hat safely kept to one side, you’re even freer to stroke it. Applejack sighs contentedly, resting her head against your chest but her ears are still tightly pinned back and those deep green eyes shine as you continue stroking your fingers through her mane. For a mare that works so hard and scorns ‘all that frou-frou nonsense’, she keeps her mane in remarkably gorgeous condition.
Applejack’s muscled haunches shuffle about against your lower abdomen and, still not quite looking at you, her tail flicks to one side and rests against your thigh. Sensing the change, you let your hands move lower down over her neck, feeling the tensed muscles start to relax under the attention. And then further down, her back shivering as your fingers lightly trace the line of her spine; there’s a little chuckle from her, rich and throaty, enough to warm the heart.
But it’s when your hands find their rest on her hips that Applejack looks at you, shuffling the last of the way until her head is over yours and locks of her mane fall over her withers and down against your neck.
“Ya certainly know what Ah like,” she whispers softly, letting a smile grow on her lips, “And it makes me glad that Ah decided to visit.”
This close you can pick out the undertones of her scent - slightly earthy and woody but with a faint almost-sweetness to it, like you’re standing in her orchard during autumn. It’s mingled with her warm breath, washing over your face as she stares down, shimmying her hooves up until they slide over your shoulders.
“Ah’m not presumin’ too much?” Even you can hear the uncertainness in her voice.
“Do you think I’d be here if I didn’t want it, too?”
Applejack nods, bending her legs over your shoulders. “You always like makin’ me happy.” The mare’s nose comes in close to your face, gently nuzzling at your cheek.
You manage to twist your head just slightly and kiss her jaw, right under those adorable white freckles. “Because I love you.”
“Yeah and Ah love you.” Applejack lets out a breath, suddenly, at your kiss. “Ah just wanna, you know.” A light redness touches her cheeks.
It’s adorable how bashful she can still be about all of this but it has its own kind of charm that’s oddly arousing.
With her hind legs parted above your hips, you take the opportunity to kick off your shoes. Applejack, however, contents herself with stroking her hooves against your shoulder blades and turning her gentle nuzzling to sweet little kisses.
“Stop me if Ah go too fast,” she mumbles between kisses, peppering them across your cheek. The velvety soft coat on her face creates a pleasant contrasting against her smooth, supple lips.
One hand sneaks back up along her back, stroking against her neck and then resting gently at the back of her head as Applejack moves in towards your lips, her kisses lasting longer each time until her own lips come against yours. She doesn’t quite press down against you but is content to hold herself there, hooves still gently moving until your hand gives a gentle tug at her head.
The kiss is slow, gentle rather than passionate and needful; her lips undulate against yours, her tongue not quite quickly moving past but being insistent all the same. Her hindquarters shuffle against your abdomen and the tail flicks over to your other thigh. Applejack’s breath hitches when her hooves grip you tighter, the kiss coming complete.
The mare’s abdomen bumps against you once or twice and it’s only your hand still resting on her lower back that prevents her from moving about any more than she does.
In that moment she breaks the kiss, resting her forehead against you before pushing herself up on her hooves. You can feel them shifting, moving up above your shoulders and then are left to watch as she rises, eyes closed but a smile growing on her lips. Up, then, off your stomach she stands fully and your hands fall away from her.
“Just, uh, Ah think we need to…” she trails off, slowly stepping backwards along the couch while moving her hooves in tighter to your body.
You can only watch as her head ducks down, eyes opening and meeting yours before her mouth touches against your shirt. Is she… Applejack clasps the fabric between her teeth, giving a gentle pull, just enough to move it an inch and bare your skin to her as the fine coat along her chin rubs against your stomach.
“If you want me to help-”
“No, no, Ah can do this,” she cuts you off. “Just gimme a second.”
Taking your shirt in her teeth again, she starts pulling and pushing it along with her hooves. It’s a little amusing to watch the little pony struggle against the fabric’s hold and it takes you lifting your back to help her along. But she pauses now and then, planting a gentle kiss on your skin before taking up the shirt again and pulling it along further.
Pull, kiss, pull, kiss, each time a tingling wave of pleasure emanates from the spot she touches and seeing you so enjoying it, Applejack struggles not to grin. When she comes to your chest it takes a sharper tug to move the fabric along and she pauses, kissing a line between your breasts, just off the fabric of your bra. No doubt you’ll have to take care of that for her.
But for now you’re forced to lift your arms up as she continues pulling, bringing the shirt up over your face. Applejack pauses again once she’s gotten your mouth exposed and, unexpectedly, leans down for one last kiss, holding it just a moment before continuing on.
Her hooves do the rest of the work, seeing the shirt freed from your body and you left bared beneath her. In spite of her own constant nakedness, there’s still that little niggling feeling of exposing yourself far more than she ever could. But it’s Applejack and just as she with you, you would never keep anything from her.
You make to cross your arms just over your stomach but the mare halts you with her hooves, grinning down.
“Ah’m not above askin’ for help when Ah need it.” She nudges at your bra, eyes shining. Then she playfully growls to you, “take it off, missy.”
The hock of her hind leg comes up between your thighs, gently rubbing at one. Oh she knows what she’s doing and, of course taken by a fit of bravado, isn’t afraid to take the chance. Not that you would want to ignore her words; she had said before that every inch of you was beautiful, so not to be shy of her admiration…
