Oh My God That's Disgusting
She did not realize it right away— she never did— and did nothing to stop it until nothing was all she could do.
Applejack was in heat.
To any other mare, the symptoms would be obvious, but the dull heat rising from her body was hardly different from the usual bodily heat that came from working daily on the farm. So the sudden onslaught of desire that took hold of her was as surprising as it was maddening.
Applejack kept her head low as she made her way through town, hooves clopping against the rain-soaked ground with soft splashes. Clip, clop, splish, splash, creak, groan, gasp, ernnfff!
Fuck, fuck, did it have to get to that already?
She felt heat rising to her face (among other parts) as Applejack swung her tail down to cover her marehood. Rough blonde hairs brushed against her, and she shivered at the contact. Fuck…
But Applejack plodded on. Get the apples to the stand, get rid of the apples, applesapplesapplesapplesapples…!
So… she would deal. Two woven baskets hung balanced across her shoulders; Applejack shifted their weight, dangling one unevenly on her left. It would take a while for the extra weight to hurt, but hurt it would, and then she would have something else to focus on.
In the meantime, she would walk. And walk. Farther than she would on a normal day. Far enough that, possibly, the impact of heat would fade away from sheer exhaustion, and she could live the rest of the week normally. Kind of.
Of course, it was silly to think she could actually do such a thing, but there was no harm in walking a bit farther than usual. Exercise did help, usually— ah, but usually she was able to recognize the signs! Honestly, the only surefire cure (ever) would be to stop the heat at its source. Something that Applejack would not do, at least not without some sort of intimate relationship with whatever stallion— or mare, she might as well be open to new things— ended up bucking her apples.
Applejack continued along the path that led to the apple stand. The damp ground slapped dully against her hooves, kicking droplets of mud onto her ankles. The sensation was almost comforting, a faint reminder of work on the farm, mud spraying her as she wiped sweat from her hard worked brow. It rarely rained this hard in Ponyville. Nice that the pegasi had the weather under good control, but a bit of a shame that there were no opportunities to splash around in a real storm.
Eh. A town couldn’t have everything. She would enjoy the rain while she could, and before long she’d be back to the sun’s hot gaze on her back as she worked the farm.
A sharp pain in her shoulder reminded Applejack why she was in town in the first place: apples. (How fitting.) Shifting the bag had worked, for all intents and purposes, although it had been other thoughts that had distracted her from—
Damn.
Heat.
…and now it was all she could think about. Heat. A burning retching tumbling reeling fiery rash in her nethers. There were better ways to describe it, but she could not think of any.
The unbalanced weight hadn’t worked, the walking hadn’t worked— at least not in the long term, now that she had remembered why she’d changed the routine in the first place. What would, besides the unspeakable?
Nothing. It’d be hard to put out a fire without a bucket of water nearby.
But morals outweighed impulses, even strong impulses that if acted upon would make her life infinitely easier and might even be a cure for a whole week if she could only pluck up the courage to follow them but—! Morals outweighed impulses.
Applejack took a breath. It was bad. She’d have to get back to the farm, take a bath, go up to her room and pull out an old romance novel and sticky up those bedsheets.
“Hmph.”
The word— well, ‘word’ wasn’t quite an accurate description. Vocalization?— slipped out unintentionally. A disappointing end to the disappointing beginning of what would likely turn out to be a disappointing day (which, she suspected, would be the disappointing beginning of one rather disappointing week).
She made an about face, swinging her tail around and gasping as a faint breeze and drops of water dripped into her blushing lips. Shit, this was bad. Her tail rushed back down to cover the swollen flesh, initiating another small gasp from the orange earth pony. Apples would have to wait; she’d be lucky if she could get home without galloping, let alone keeping up a casual pace. Ponies would notice. They’d visit her. ”Applejack, what’s wrong? Can we help? Is something going on at the farm?” And some of them would be stallions. Stallions, asking her what was wrong! ”Oh, nothing you can’t fix,” she’d tell them, and they’d grin knowingly, put a hoof around her shoulder and press a hard tip against the wet lips of her vagina and— oof!— sex would begin.
“Applejack?”
She jerked her head up with a yelp and found the smiling face of Twilight Sparkle looking at her.
“Ah— er, yes, Twilight?”
She took the unicorn’s hoof and stood, thighs brushing against each other and sending a shiver up her spine— had she fallen?
“Are you okay, Applejack? You need help? I saw you trip and thought I’d better check on you— everything’s okay, isn’t it?”
“Uh— y-yeah, everything’s fine, Twilight. Sorry, Ah just got distracted for a minute there— thank yah.”
Twilight smiled, cheeks curling to form a cute set of dimples that wonderfully complimented the soft lock of hair covering her forehead. She had never noticed how attractive Twilight was before.
Wait— what?!
“Ah— Ah’m sorry, Twilight, I’m in a bit of a rush. Ah’ll— Ah’ll talk to yah later, okay?”
Applejack hesitated a moment, watching the unicorn’s face for a moment to look for a hint of understanding crossing her features.
“All right, Applejack. Let me know if there’s anything I can—”
Applejack dipped her head, raising a hoof to press the hat down across her mane and turning down the lane to Sweet Apple Acres.
“—do…?”
Shit, shit, what had just happened? Had Applejack been looking at… Twilight? Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia’s prized student, the bearer of the Element of Magic, one of AJ’s closest friends— no, of course she didn’t think of Twilight that way— she couldn’t!
It was the heat talking. That was it. It was the heat talking. She’d get back home, fiddle with herself, get back to town and look at Twilight again the same way she always did: like a friend. A good friend, but a friend. Just a friend.
Wooh. That was close.
She swallowed, gulping down relief like it was water on a dry day (or sunshine on this one). Crisis averted. For now.
The tall form of the barn rose slowly in the distance as Applejack continued down the lane, teeth clenched as she fought to keep her hips still and separate from each other. The apples had tumbled from the basket on her way into town after she’d tripped on— on whatever she had tripped on, some rock or something, or perhaps another apple that had dislodged itself after she’d tilted the basket to bother a shoulder. But she couldn’t go back to pick them up now. They’d waste and rot or, at the very least, become bruised and lost… a waste of hard-earned produce, but she could always make up for that, especially with a harvest as good as this year’s.
Now was no time to focus on apples. Now was the time to focus on Applejack. More specifically, Applejack’s needs. And at the moment, there was only one: the need to get rutted. Hard.
She drew a breath, quickening her pace to a trot as she shortened the distance between herself and the barn. The rain was lightening, reflecting her increase in mood as the prospect of relief came closer. She could feel her body tingling as it prepared itself for… for entry, or as close as she would get to it.
She dashed up the stairs and into her bed, legs now pressed together as she walked. Subtlety be damned, she needed pleasure, and she needed it now.
Applejack was in bed. The covers were folded over on each other, tangled randomly from her quickly splaying them across the mattress. Get them out of the way, and she would have her way. With herself.
And it would be oh so very hot.
But first the preparations: porno mag, hand soap, dildo, imagination, and one hoof licked and washed with thoroughness worthy of Rarity’s approval. Yes, she was ready.
Bringing the magazine up to her face, Applejack steadied it with one hoof while the other slowly approached her glowing nethers. It was at times like this that she almost wished that she was a unicorn. Of course, once you got into actual sex, earth pony endurance heavily outweighed the limited (albeit enhanced) benefits of magic, but there was no harm in wishing just for a moment or so.
…what was on the menu today? Some good, down-to-earth stallion, straw hanging limply from the teeth set dazzlingly in a cocky smile as a hoof dangled, smoothing itself over an erect phallus. She imagined the stallion’s soft lips against her own, inching down her neck and slowly descending her body. They rested at her pussy, letting up slightly before gently sending soft waves of pleasure up her spine.
Knock.
Applejack raised her head. She recognized that knock. That was Big Mac’s knock. Slow, steady, strong, confident, and sexy, just like the stallion himself.
Wait.
Did she just call her own brother sexy?
That was it. First Twilight, then Big Mac? Her brother? Only a good fucking would set things straight.
“Uh, yeah? Big Mac?”
Instantly she could tell that addressing him was a mistake: the door creaked open and a worried broadset head began to peer throu—
“W-wait! Don’t come in! Just— just a minute!”
She scrambled herself together, piling blankets on top of the bed to cover the magazine and slight puddle that had gathered below the proof of her arousal.
She opened the door.
“Uh, yeah, Mac? This had better be good, it’s kind of a bad time.”
His face showed little sign of realization at Applejack’s predicament. That was good, she supposed, though he rarely displayed emotions of any kind, and perhaps he had noticed…
She pressed her legs together at the thought.
“Just checkin’ on ya. You seemed troubled.”
Oh, now that was sweet. Expected of any caring family member, but sweet all the same.
“Yeah, Ah’m fine, McIntosh. Thanks for checkin’ in.”
He looked past her shoulder, eyes focusing on the rumpled mess of bedsheets visible just behind the door. “Yeh need help with anything?”
“No.”
But it was not true: she saw the pocket of flesh that held her brother's cock, and it took all she had to resist bringing a hoof to her marehood right then and there.
“Ah’m sorry, Big Mac. Ah don’t mean that. You— yeh think you can come in for a second?”
Big McIntosh nodded mutely and Applejack closed the door behind them. She cast a glance nervously at the tangled covers.
“Ah-- just a minute, Mac, lemme clear up a second.”
…what was she doing? Did Applejack just invite her own brother into her room? While she was in heat? Not just that, but to satisfy her heat?
Yes. Yes, she had. And damn it if she wouldn’t go through with it.
But surely, Big Mac would never agree to such a thing. She would… would have to hide it. Be subtle.
She dragged her tail across the bed, sweeping various toys onto the floor.
“Uh… Big Mac? Could you… sit next to me for a minute?”
“Eeyup.”
He sat by the bed beside her, and the heat of his body so close to hers made her shiver. Applejack stood, the bed bouncing up slightly as her weight left it, and turned to face her brother.
She lowered her eyes to the sheath of his dick and licked her lips slowly. If she was going to convince him to pleasure her, she must first pleasure him.
She brought her muzzle down, and a red hoof gently held her face. She looked up.
“Sis, what are ya doing?”
AJ felt herself go scarlet, but she didn’t move. “Ah’m just bein’ a good sister… right, Big Mac?”
He shook his head.
“Mac, I’m in heat! Please?”
The stallion thought for a moment, lifted himself off the bed, and turned to face Applejack.
“Nnope!”
