//-------------------------------------------------------// A Hot Day -by FluxerCry- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// Take a Walk //-------------------------------------------------------// Take a Walk It was a hot day. And by hot, I mean the peak of the summer, the mighty, condescending sun bearing down on your shoulders at all times, weighing you down with every step and every heavy breath you breathe. I felt as though I could water the crops just by standing over them for a few seconds. So… yeah, it was hot. Normally I would have loved to spend such a day under a shady tree with a bucket of ice and a magazine. Instead, I was stuck doing the worst thing possible: work. Just a few days ago, I was approached by a farmpony with a spontaneous job offering. In fact, I had at the time been lying underneath a shady tree with a bucket of ice and a magazine. I remember slipping down into a more comfortable position with my back against the soft, cool grass, and plopping an ice cube into my mouth as my eyes traced the gentle, familiar curves of the sexiest pony alive: Spitfire. The way water slid down and caressed said curves, and the way her wet fur hugged tightly to her muscular body, was something to be admired; and, being somewhere near the center of the largest orchard in Equestria, very far away from prying eyes, I felt no shame in admiring it. Flipping the page brought me to what I can only describe as a scrumptious shot of her in the shower, the most desirable of her parts just obscured behind a thin, translucent shower curtain. I could definitely work with that one. Closing my eyes, I kept that image fresh in my mind. I burned it into my memory. And then, I made it move. "Did you want something, sugar?" Her voice rang in my mind. My legs wobbled just slightly as I stepped closer, the warm mist surrounding me. "I, uh... I'm a big fan of yours," I whispered. "Oh, I'd have never guessed," she scoffed, looking away and nonchalantly returning to her business in the shower. "Everyone's a fan. Would you like me to get my Wonderbolt uniform and put on a show?" "Oh, well, actually..." I began to slide my hoof in a circle on the tile, looking down shyly. "... I'm a fan of your magazine." Her ear twitched, and she turned her head to look at me once more. "Oh, so that's what you're here for." I could see her rear swaying just slightly through the curtain, her voice lowering to a much softer and more alluring tone. "Pictures?" Oh yeah, that's good. That's real good. I reworked the image in my mind a bit until I had a camera hanging from my neck. "Yeah, pictures," I said with a bit more confidence. "For the next issue." She acknowledged me with an "Mmm," lowering her eyelids. She began to extend her wing towards a towel hanging on the wall outside the shower. "Would you get that for me?" I nodded obediently, quickly pushing my snout under the towel, lifting it off the hook and approaching her. It would be a crime to keep my eyes from wandering, as more and more of her body became visible every time I took a step. Her lower back, then her hip, then just the edge of her cutie mark... Much too soon I found myself close enough to drop the towel over her wing. I could feel tiny warm dropletes splash off of her body and onto my face for a few moments, before a loud squeak signaled the end of Spitfire's shower. I dropped the towel over her wing. She muttered a thank you and began to dry herself, very slowly. I was hypnotised by the motions, and how her coat got just the slightest bit fluffy when the towel passed over it. Seeing a perfect opportunity, I snapped a quick picture. "Oh," Spitfire squeaked as the flash blanketed her body. "We're starting already? At least give me warning so I can pose, sweetie." "You don't need to pose," I whispered. "Every moment with you is like a perfect picture." That made Spitfire chuckle. "Could I ask you something, hun?" She whispered back. "Anything." I leaned in a little. "Closer?" She said, even quieter, noticing my advance. I obeyed. she leaned forward and spoke into my ear, so quiet I could barely tell she was talking, so close I could hear the flicking of her tongue and feel the gentle push of the air as she spoke. "I'd just like to know one thing..." “The hay y’all doin’ on my property!?” I jumped as a thick country accent penetrated my private thoughts and brought me shuddering back to reality. The magazine dropped to my stomach to reveal the hazy image of a slightly flustered farmpony hiding just behind it. By the disapproving look in her eyes and the blush on her face, which became visible as my eyes gained focus, she knew full well what I’d been doing on her property. She was a very strong looking mare with shiny, sunset-orange fur and deep green eyes that I could just see beneath the shadow of her light brown Stetson. She had a long rope draped around her neck and saddlebag on her back, which a bucket full of water and an empty basket hung from. A few more seconds of awkward silence passed before I could blurt out a response. “I was, uh… um… leaving…?” The excuse came with a transparently sheepish grin. I had all intentions of honouring my word as I rolled onto my hooves and bent down to pick the magazine up between my teeth, my tail doing a very sloppy job of hiding my physical approval of Spitfire’s delicious wet body. “Damn right y’are,” the farmpony muttered. “And you ain’t gonna mind if I show ya out, either.” That made me lose all control of my jaw and promptly drop my magazine. One bewildered look back at the farmpony’s face, blush all but gone, told me I didn’t have much of a choice in that matter. Even though I did mind. Very much. “B-but you’re busy with something, right? Like, work?” I argued, just now noting the half-empty and recently abandoned apple-cart a short ways away. “Right. And I’m s’possed to just get back t’ mah own business so you can jump over the nearest hill ‘n finish your own, is that right?” The un-amused glare shut me up before I could even think of responding. “Y’ain’t in no position t’ argue here, so shut your pie hole and get your horseapples t’gether.” Accepting the fact that I really wasn’t in a position to argue, I did as I was told and picked my magazine back up while the farmpony dropped the contents of her saddlebag off at the cart; the rope, I wearily noted, remained over her shoulders. I was about to pick up my bucket–an awkward load coupled with the magazine, but there was little I could do–when the farmpony stepped in and dumped its contents on the ground. I winced at the clear message and watched her hook it onto her bag. She gestured briskly for me to follow her. With a picture of Spitfire’s perfectly sculpted hips between my lips and a big, lonely, attention-seeking king of awkward wagging between my legs at every step, this was going to be a long walk. Ten minutes later things hadn’t gotten any better, and the only thing getting any smaller was the distance between us and the edge of the orchard. Every move I made to hide my shameful pride only seemed to stimulate it further, and it sure as hay didn’t help that the farmpony’s butt was the best thing ever. I couldn’t help but walk a little slower so I had a better view. Normally I was profoundly uninterested in any mare that wasn't my scrumptious little Spitfire. However, It was truly impossible not to admire her rear's somewhat brisk sway, and the way it stretched and jiggled just the tiniest bit with every step. Her fur was ruffled, thick, shiny and slick with sweat. Her fur wasn’t as finely groomed as Spitfire’s, so, unlike her, the farmpony’s fur couldn’t hug her form quite so tightly. Nonetheless, one look and you could tell this mare had muscle in all the right places. And yet, there was something soft and inviting about her form, something hidden just beneath that sun-soaked fur– “Y’know, you ain’t the first pony ah found beatin’ and smackin’ away on mah farm…” I stumbled forward a bit as the farmpony interrupted my fantasies for the second time that day. I narrowly escaped planting my face firmly into her rear end before I regained my balance and trotted up beside her. “… and ya probably ain’t the last.” I shifted my eyes to gaze at the farmpony’s face, but half of it was hidden beneath her hat, and the other half by the shadow it cast. Only the tip of her snout was made visible by the light of the sun. “I hardly have time to take care of y’all, what with this extra work on mah shoulders.” I worked my jaw a bit as I pondered whether I ought to give a response. It seemed she had calmed down a fair bit at this point, and I figured I liked the sound of her voice more than the sound of an occasional grasshopper, so I decided to take a chance. “What extra work?” The farmpony glanced at me from under her hat. She seemed rather surprised. “Well… in case ya haven’t noticed, the pegasi ‘ve been havin’ a hard time catching clouds with how hot it’s been.” I nodded from time to time, watching her tongue flick back and forth and not paying too much attention. An image of Spitfire started to take form in my head, right where the farmpony was. Oddly enough, I found myself pushing it away. “Less clouds means less rain. Less rain means we farmponies gotta water everything we can by hoof. It’s only me ‘n mah brother out here, so as much as I hate t’ admit it, even with our hard work we could lose half our crops this season,” “Couldn’t you hire somepony?” I said, almost subconsciously; that made the farmpony chuckle. "Chatty for a pest, ain’t ya? Most decent workers are all tied up with their own farms, 'n gagged for good measure." She paused a moment, lips pursing in a sudden, visible burst of thought. All I could think about was how cute that was. I wondered what she was thinking of... perhaps she was thinking of me? I thought I'd heard her say 'tied up and gagged...' I glanced momentarily at the rope around her neck. She started talking again, for a moment. I didn't really listen, as my mind had all but finished fabricating another fantasy. My mouth opened just slightly, a small string of saliva getting pushed over my lower lip and slowly stretching to the ground. A small fact managed to push its way through the mist of infatuation and into my conscious mind: the farmpony had stopped talking. I expected her to start back up again, but it quickly became clear from the look I was getting that she was expecting a response. Horsefeathers. Now what? I couldn't just tell her I wasn't listening, mares hate that. Maybe I could pretend I didn't hear, ask her to repeat herself. I considered whether or not that would fool her... “What y’all been doin’, starin’ at mah flank!?” She yelled. In one smooth movement she grabbed her rope between her teeth, lassoed my nuts and ripped them clean off. Tears ran down my eyes as she flicked her head and sent my unmentionables flying, landing in a tree somewhere far off into the orchard. Okay, that’s one less option to choose from. With that out of the way I slipped into a pose that I hoped to Celestia said "thought provoken," to give me a little more time. I needed to be careful of my answer here... Or did I even need to give one? I was surely close enough to the end of the orchard by now. I could possibly make a run for it. My hooves pounded against the ground as I looked behind me. Splinters smacked my face as the farmpony ran straight through an apple tree, screaming as she quickly caught up to me. She took her rope between her teeth, and before I knew it… I shook my head vigorously. I didn’t want to go through that again. Well, if all else failed I could- “Ehem.” The farmpony tapped my shoulder to get my attention. “Uh, y’all got a… um…” she gestured to the area just beneath her mouth. Reaching up with my hoof, I finally noticed the long string of saliva dribbling out my mouth. “Gah, horsefeathers!” I cursed aloud, turning away to wipe my face clean of the drool. “Sorry, that happens a lot.” “Ah’m sure it does,” she snickered. “Mah brother has the same problem; bit of a daydreamer. Well, not like you. At least I sure hope not.” She gave me a humorous look; something surprisingly warm and friendly compared to anything I expected to see from her. “Ah think I kinda like you, actually. Y'aint as bad as ah thought.” Okay, I definitely didn’t see that that coming. Ever. I cracked a tiny grin when she said that, thinking I just might get out of this with my unmentionables intact. “Bad news for you though,” she continued. “Now y’all got no choice in working for me.” “Wait, what?” I probably looked like I’d just stepped in something terribly sticky, unholy and indescribably disgusting, because that’s exactly how I felt. “I don’t think-“ “Now before y’all get up in mah flank with objections, you owe me. I could very well charge you for trespassing, indecency, and Celestia knows what else.” She proceeded to spit on the ground, scraping it into the grass with her hoof. She had me there, that’s for sure. I could still get out of this though; I just had to convince her I wasn’t worth the effort. “But-” “You’re probably gon’ tell me you ain’t up for my line of work. And y’all would probably be right. But at the very least ah could use the company, and an extra hoof is a better tool than any.” “Company? Heh, I-I’m sure you don’t want to waste your time around, uh… my kind.” Insulting myself. I was really scraping the bottom of the barrel here, but I was running out of excuses. “Normally you’d be right about that. But like ah said, you don’t seem as bad as ah thought. Y’ain’t even tried to hit on me yet-” “Y-you have a nice, uh… legs!” I yelped in panic. It goes without saying that I did not know how to hit on a girl, and that little fact came back to bite a big, nasty chunk out of my butt when the farmpony nearly fell over laughing at me. “See, that’s… heheh… that’s what ah like about you. Y’all got a sense of humour. Nice try pumpkin, but ah ain’t changin’ mah mind that easy.” I let out a sigh and hung my head in defeat. The farmpony gave me a sarcastically sympathetic “aww” and patted my shoulder. “It’s okay sugah. You might even like workin'... if y'all can handle it.” Something about that sentence, the way she said it and the faint glimmer in her eyes disturbed me. I wanted to ignore the massive rock forming in the pit of my stomach, but a brief flash of white teeth between her lips as they slowly curled up into an involuntary grin made a shiver of fear rip its way through my body. Work... oh sweet Celestia, work! “Y’know,” she continued, silencing my inner lamentations, “since we’re gon’ be seeing each other again over the next few days, ah think it’s only fittin’ we learn each other’s names.” “Oh yeah, right.” I nodded. “My name is Gust Free.” Yeah, it’s a weird name for an earth pony. My parents expected me to be a pegasus, and for some crazy reason they decided the name still fit when it turned out I wasn’t. The farmpony extended a hoof. “Apple Jack. Gust, huh? Ah look forward to workin’ with you, partner.” I shook her hoof gingerly. Apple Jack stopped walking and gazed at the sun. “Y’all can find your way home from here, right?” I nodded. “Ah need to get back to work, so you’ll have to go on without me. I think ah can trust you not to… linger.” It took me a second to get what she meant. I’d almost forgotten how I got into this situation in the first place. I was about to make off, eager for some long overdue solitude, when Apple Jack stopped me one last time. “T’morrah at sunrise. Y’all better be here. Got that?” “Yeah, I got it.” I let my mind wander one last time, taking a long, final look at her flank as she trotted into the distance. Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t be lingering… long. Author's Note This chapter is more or less just a warm up. No actual clop, yet; take it as you will. I am attempting to weave at least a little intelligence into this thing. Tell me what you think so far in the comments, please, as I don't have the most experience in the field of erotic writing. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.