As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip

A Coco Pommel Vogonverse Tale

Country Roads, Take Me Home

Coco’s P.O.V.

Waking up next my special somehuman was a feeling that I was certainly enjoying. The night had been wonderful, and the sight of the clear mountain sky had only set the romantic mood even more. So, here I was with Miles, in bed, enjoying the feeling of his arms around me, and loving the fact that he had made me feel like a treasured, and beloved, mare. I could see the first stray rays of sunshine as the sun began to rise. Part of me wondered if Princess Celestia was still in control of the Sun itself.

It would be interesting if that was the case. If she continued to control it regardless of the fact that we obviously were no longer on Equestria would be interesting, but at the same time it really didn’t make much difference other than some early morning musing. I felt one of Miles’ hands move up, cupping a breast, and then I felt him squeeze lightly. It was gentle, and it made me giggle slightly. I felt the kiss on the back of my head, and then I felt him nuzzle against the back of my neck.

“Morning,” he said.

“Mmm, good morning,” I replied.

I tried to move, and I found that he was unwilling to give up our position. I understood that if I really wanted to move I could, but I just didn’t have the heart to break our connection. It felt right for him to be holding me like this. It felt right for us to be lying together so close. Instead I simply enjoyed the feeling, and then I felt us shift. No longer was I simply beside him, but he had rolled until I was lying on top of him.

“Oh dear, I fear that you may have some ulterior motive by bringing me up here on top,” I said with faux surprise.

“Perhaps,” he said before she felt a hand move down and hover just above my sex. I felt him trace up, making lazy circles, and the feeling was more erotic than I believed it could be. I moaned softly as my hips attempted to grind into his own.

“Or maybe I’m just trying to give us both what we want.”

I smiled. The two of us had practically been mating quite a bit while we were here. There was no denying that there was a very good chance I was with foal, but I didn’t mind it. I also didn’t mind that he was giving me all of this attention. It felt nice to be the object of desire, and even more so it felt wonderful to be the object of his passion. I finally did move, and turned until I was straddling him. He looked up at me, and I smiled down at him. I sat on top of his waist, wearing only a smile, and I saw that he too was wearing the same fashion. Oh, true, it was a faux paus in the fashion world for two individuals to be wearing the same outfit at the same time, but here, at this moment, I felt that it would have been wrong for it to be any other way. I felt his hands rise, cup my cutie marks, and then he looked up at me.

“This feels right,” he said.

I agreed with him, “It does,” I said as I scooted back and found his hardening cock, “It feels wonderful,” I moaned as I lifted myself up, and then slowly speared myself on him.

“Mmmm,” I moaned, “It feels so right.”

I began to gyrate my hips, feeling the way he filled me, and loving every single second of it. He’d bred me, rutted my brains out, but this was different. This was a slow comfortable screw that I planned on enjoying. I didn’t want to rut like animals in heat. I wanted to make love my special somehuman. I wanted to show him how much he meant to me, and I wanted to take my time doing it.

He caught onto what we were doing, and he didn’t attempt to move the tempo up on me. Instead he proved himself to be a generous lover, a kind and sweet one, and I found that my own feelings for him were as true as they could be. I loved him, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and it wasn’t the heat talking. Because at this point I was good. I was doing this because I wanted to do it. I was making love to him because it felt good, and because I wanted to make love to him. It had nothing to do with being overwhelmed with need and temptation. It was instead just a wonderful feeling of being together.

We stayed like that, making love slowly, tenderly, for what was both an eternity and far too short of a time. When we both climaxed it was more than just getting off. It was connecting on a spiritual level. I moved off of him, and I felt him hug me before he got up. He smiled at me, “I’m going to make some breakfast,” he said, “I think that you deserve to have it served in bed.”

I smiled at him, “Well, if you insist then I will wait right here for you.”

With that he walked out of the room, and I watched as he left. I was thankful that we were so far into the woods, and that we could walk around completely nude if we wanted to. Part of me realized how much I needed this. I’d gotten used to wearing clothes, but going without them was freeing. It felt right. I understood that clothes were important outside of this place, but perhaps from now on when I wasn’t expecting someone it would be a good idea to keep the curtains closed, so that I could enjoy walking around nude at home.

Kitchen - Miles’ P.O.V.

I looked at the stove and checked to make sure that the fire was still going. I had been in off and on all night, and to my relief the stove still had flames. They were lower, but I answered that by adding a few more sticks onto the fire. I closed the door, and let it heat up a little more before I grabbed an iron skillet from its place on the wall. What I wanted to make was simple enough. We had bought some pancake mix, and I was glad that it didn’t require eggs. It was a simple mix, just needed some water, and I put two cups of the mix into a bowl before adding a cup of water.

Afterward I mixed the two components with a fork, and then I placed the skillet on the stove, added a little oil to the bottom of it, and then poured in the first pancake. I stood in the kitchen, naked, cooking for the beautiful woman in my bedroom. I’m sure that Mickey would be saying something about this if he could. I flipped the pancake in the pan, let it cook, and then I placed it on a plate. Once more I did the same, and once more I continued to cook.

As awesome as it was to be with Coco, and certainly I knew that I loved her, it didn’t take away from the fact that I needed to train. The whole reason for coming out here was so that I could get some much needed training in, and that meant hitting the woods and doing some serious strength training. I hadn’t realized how much hard work, actual hard work, paid off. Sure, hitting the gym was a good start, but there was a problem with just working out in a gym.

It didn’t toughen your entire body. You needed exposure to the elements, and you needed cold, hard work, and more cold added on top of it. It transformed a normal human body to something close to steel, and that was the edge I needed. I wanted the guy that was fighting me to say that it felt like hitting steel instead of flesh. It would be hard, and I knew that, but it would be worth it. I finished up the pancakes, and I carried the two plates, some honey, and a jar of hazelnut butter into the bedroom. I handed a plate to Coco who smiled as she dipped some of the hazelnut butter onto her pancakes and then poured some honey on them.

We both ate in a comfortable silence as we looked at one another. We finished, and I leaned over to kiss her. She returned the kiss, and then I stood. I grabbed her plate, walked it to the kitchen, placed it in the sink, and then I walked back to the bedroom one more time. The idea came to forgo the day of training, and instead spend that time trying to get Coco to say my name in as many octaves as she could while we both did some of the more delicious things to each other.

Instead I smiled and stood.

“I’ve got to get some training done,” I said sadly, “I want to stay in here with you, but I’ve got to get on this. If you want you can come outside with me, but it’s going to be a lot of hard work in the cold.”

She smiled at me, “Sure, I’ll come out later,” she kissed me, “But first I might take a shower.”

Coco’s P.O.V.

I watched as Miles got dressed for the weather outside. There was always something entrancing about how the human male buttocks moved; it was fascinating to the point of being hypnotic, especially on Miles. While I was nominally a fashion designer for women and mares, watching Miles perform this mundane task of getting dressed that had me thinking of designs that would look good on him and likely other men, other stallions. The warm, fluttery feeling in my womb intensified and had Miles decided to stick around in the cabin, I would have mounted him and never gotten off!

Still, I did have some things I wanted to do around the cabin, and watching Miles train was one of them. Sexy stuff could come later, after he had worked up a good lather. So, as he started lacing his mountain boots to his feet, I stood from bed, no bothering with preserving my modesty, and walked to the bathroom. I gave him a playful swat with my tail; a “goosing” I think people call it? His look of surprise turned into a look of amusement while I smirked. I continued toward the bathroom, putting an extra sway into my hips, something I knew Miles enjoyed immensely.

Upon entering the bathroom, I had to marvel at the simple but evocative style of this water closet. A single, marble sink in a cedar cabinet resided under the mirror, the toilet rested just in front of that, the claw tub with an attached copper tube curtain rod which in turn had a small window that overlooked the forest beyond the cabin lay at the end of the room, and kitschy with soft bathroom rug completed the scene. The desperate pieces would have been out of place in any other home, but in this cabin, they gave the feeling of being “lived in,” not unlike the sterile fixtures at the MGM. Even the slightly scuffed up wooden flooring added charm where in tile or vinyl flooring would take away from the scene. My Earth pony senses could really feel out the care and attention this place had in it, even if it’s function was largely unspoken of in polite company.

Taking up a moment to admire the decor, I then began the shower. The cabin had an older gas hot water tank, so unlike my suite at MGM, the hot water came out freezing and stayed that way until the water in the furnace was of sufficient heat. As I waited for the water to warm, I arranged some of my tioletries around the sink (there was barely enough room for it all,) then as steam began to emanate from the tub, I cranked the cold water up to give me a just-shy-of-lukewarm shower. Stepping into the stream that burst forth from the shower head, I was amazed at the pressure of the antique fixture. None of the showers in the MGM Grand were this strong, probably because of water saving features or water conservation measures. (Likely both, because Las Vegas was in the middle of a desert!) This thing hit like a wet slap of a large fish, easily arting my pelt with ease. I let the water pressure sting me to my skin for a while then set about working shampoo into my mane and tail. I know that there wasn’t going to a lot of hot water for very long, so I did my best to lather up with my favorite soap, then rinsed off as quickly as I could.

Once finished with my shower, I stepped out into the now steamed up bathroom, I hadn’t taken any time to look out the window while I was showering, but now I did. My heart skipped several beats when I did, for there was Miles, clad in flannel, squat lifting a large log. With more than six inches worth of snow on the mountain, his knees were burying into the powder. In spite of the chill in the air, he was sweating profusely. The flutterly feeling in my belly spread throughout my body, centering around my heart and deep in my womb. Well, if I wasn’t with foal before, I certainly was now. I took a few moments to dry off, especially since my tail so damp, then I dressed in my warmest winter wear and joined Miles outside.

The chill in the air was more present, but at the same time there was a sort of lively feeling to it. I walked toward Miles and saw him and I saw how he was doing more than I had thought. I had seen him squat lifting the log, but more than that he was squat lifting it, and then after a little bit he would load it onto a wagon. The wagon itself was something I would have expected in some of the more rural areas of Equestria. It was an old wooden thing, with high wooden wheels, and he simply put the log in place, and I watched as he did the process again with another log. Part of me wanted to go and help him. After all, an Earth Pony shares the load, but then I realized that he was doing this to train his body, and my helping would end up setting him back.

Instead I watched as he repeated the process another eight times before he had a fair load on the wagon. He then walked to the front, and I watched as he strapped on a brace over his chest, and then he gripped the two falling tongues of the wagon, which it was odd to see two, and then he began to pull it. In deep snow like this there would be at least two Earth Ponies pulling a wagon. It was more for caution sake than anything else. As an Earth Pony I had a connection to the land that was difficult to explain, but it allowed me to sense where there was dips, where there was loose rock, and it often saved a sprained fetlock.

As far as I knew Miles didn’t have that benefit, but he was pulling the wagon, straining against its weight, and pulling it up the hill. I followed, my need to help the one I had chosen as my mate battling my more logical mind. I had to remind myself that he was training himself. He was going through this for his profession, and that he had an endgame. I had to watch, I had to observe, and if he looked like it was going to hurt him then I would step in.

I watched as he unloaded the first log, and instead of squat lifting he placed it between two large rock croppings. The rocks had formed a v at either end, and he had the ends of the log resting in them. He then grabbed an axe and I watched as he swung it as hard as he could. The axe buried about five inches into the wood. He worked it loose, swung again, and he cut another five inches, this time in a vertical cut. He worked it loose again, and once more he cut and this time a large chunk of wood came out. He then began to swing where the chunk had been, and two more swings it was cut in half. He then moved up about a foot, repeated the process, and then moved down. He did this until the log was split into six equal parts.

He moved those parts to the side, unloaded another log, and repeated the process again. He did this again, and again, until every single log was done. I was expecting it to be done, but he began to grab the pieces he had made from the log, placed one flush on the ground, aimed at the top, and then swung down hard. I watched as he split it into two pieces with one swing, and then he repeated the process on both halves. He went through every piece doing this, working his arms, and then he loaded all of that wood back back onto the wagon, hitched himself back up to it, and pulled it back toward the cabin.

He then worked on stacking all of it on the porch. I thought that maybe he was going to stop, but instead he took an axe, walked toward a tall dead tree, and he began to swing. I watched as my stallion worked tirelessly. He was like a machine, it was as if he was made of steel itself, and he set himself to finishing his task. I had thought about it before, but now I was certain. Miles was supposed to have been an Earth Pony. There was no doubt in my mind about that. He had the same drive to finish what he started that every Earth Pony has. I watched in awe as he cut down six more trees, cut the limbs from them, split the limbs into smaller pieces, carried them to the porch, and then walked back to separate the trees into six foot sections. He walked toward the wagon, and once again he squat lifted each log he had made a few times before loading them back into the wagon. I watched as he repeated the process over, and over again until it was starting to get dark out.

When he finished I could see the sweat pouring from him, and this time I didn’t let myself stop myself. I went to him, and I let him lean on me while he caught his breath. I helped him inside, and I realized how hard he pushed himself. If I hadn’t been here he would be going inside, making a meal, maybe taking a bath or shower, and then going to bed. I wouldn’t get in the way of his training, but I would take care of the more domestic side of things. I didn’t mind doing so, and I wanted to help shoulder some of his burden.

Author's Note

I actually managed to contribute this time! Albeit, the bulk of this chapter is Ron Jeremy Pony's letters, I did add something to this chapter. Anyway, more sexy stuff with Miles and Coco, also a bit of fluff. Hope you all enjoy!