As Ye Sew So Shall ye Rip

A Coco Pommel in the Vogonverse Tale

The First Time

Morning found Miles slowly blinking awake. Like so many nights he had went to bed without a stitch of clothing on. He knew that when he got up he could easily dress before leaving his room, and be somewhat presentable upon seeing Coco. Still, there was something soft and warm in his bed. The texture reminded him of when he had a fight in Oklahoma City.

There had been a very hyperactive pink pony girl there that had insisted on providing snacks for all of the children that came with their parents to the fight. When she noticed that he was taking time to sign autographs, pose for pictures with the kids, and actually answer their questions she had ran and hugged him. He remembered how soft her fur was, and it felt similar to that. The difference this wasn’t just on the cheek. He could feel it down his chest, against his groin, and it felt wonderful.

Slowly his eyes came into focus and he noticed the blue haired body next to him. His arm was around her, her hand holding his own, and she looked peaceful. The both of them lay under the blanket together and he suddenly found himself fighting against his own body to try and keep from having his normal morning wood. The way she was positioned it would most certainly be felt, and he wasn’t wanting her to think that he was only interested in her for that reason. Then again, he remembered going to bed alone last night. He certainly didn’t go and get her out of her bed, so that left the question as to what was her motives.

“Mmmmm, this is nice,” she mummered.

“Coco,” he said softly.

“Mmmm?” was her reply.

“Coco, not that I mind, but what are you doing in my bed?”

She turned, and he felt her nude fur covered body against his flesh. His biological impulses were raging, demanding to be released, and it was a battle of wills at this point. Him against his body. He could do this. He could go the distance, and he would make sure that she wouldn’t think that he only thought of her as a piece of tail.

“It was cold in my room, and I wanted to cuddle.”

She snugged against him, her breasts now pressed against his chest. Quietly he begged that his body hold out for just a bit longer. The truth was that he knew he was fighting a losing battle. Despite being able to think, to focus, to see things as a sapient being should be able to see them, Miles was still a man. He was bound to the same biological rules that any other man was bound to. His body had picked up on a beautiful, nude, and sweet member of the opposite sex in the bed with him. The fight he was having with his own body was ending, and he was going to be both the winner and the loser at the same time.

To her credit Coco didn’t get angry when she felt it. He knew she had to feel it, after all, it finally sprang to life right there. He felt her hand move down his chest, her eyes opened, and a small smile appeared on her face.

“Morning,” she said.

He felt her hand, the touch of it, as it slightly touched his now elongated and rigid member. She leaned forward, kissing him fully on the lips, her hand now gently grazing up and down his shaft, causing him to buck his hips automatically. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to last, what she was going to do, and then she pulled her hand away.

“Breakfast sounds good, how about I cook us something?” she asked.

His eyes widened in disbelief as she got up. She smiled at him, but it was a teasing smile indicating that she knew what she had done, but her eyes lingered on him for longer than she had intended.

Coco giggled as she walked out of the room. She liked Miles, actually, it was getting to be more than liked It had been well past liked for a while now. She was falling in love with him, and it warmed her so much inside. She made her way down to the kitchen he had shown her, and at the moment, she wasn’t that concerned about being nude.

There was curtains over the windows, so no need to worry if somepony was going to be looking in on them. Instead she was enjoying the feel of the house in her most natural form. The kitchen was just as breathtaking as it had been last night. The stove was something from a simpler time. Designed to work with both wood or gas, it was made of solid iron with a brass inlay on the hull. A small stack of wood and a hand-pumped bellows stood on one side of the stove; on the other was a curious contraption that Coco was unsure the nature of. Blackened steel and round, with a hinged lid built into the top, it was like the stove but the stovepipe didn’t connect to it.

What is this? Coco mused. She didn’t linger long on the device; her hunger was fighting for dominance of her cognitive functions. She reached for a handle, hearing a soft hiss and quickly she turned it off. She could smell a faint hint of rotten eggs in the air around the stove, and a foal hood memory of smelling the same smell at her grandmother’s house came to her. Her grandmother had turned a handle, grabbed some matches, and used them to light the stove. She looked around and found a small box of matches. Once again she turned the handle, lit a match, and moved it toward the hissing sound. At once a flame flickered to life.

She opened Miles refrigerator, another holdover from a simpler time, and found a carton of eggs, a wedge of cheese, some milk, and a small bag of peppers. With a grin she began working on omelets for the both of them. As she worked the memory of what she felt, seen, and almost claimed completely came back to her. There was no doubt that had Miles been born on Equestria some filly would have claimed him long ago.

She grabbed a small mixing bowl, the milk, the cheese, a cheese grater, and the peppers. She first cracked the eggs. It always amazed her how the eggs looked so different from when they actually cooked. She had considered creating a clothing line that actually changed color depending on the temperature of the room, or area that a pony was inclined to be. What had stopped her was the amount of magic it would take, or at least that was what stopped her back in Equestria.

She could create something like that here, maybe even create something that responded to pressure. Undergarments that revealed to lovers that they were indeed ready. She thought about standing in front of miles in some self made lingerie that reacted to her mood. Going from white to a royal purple, the same shade of color the head of his….

She stopped what she thinking and looked at the bowl in front of her. She had already mixed the eggs, the cheese, and was now preparing to cut the peppers. She shook her head and went back to work. She wanted this breakfast to go well. After all, she did want to make up for leaving Miles in such a state.

As she worked on their breakfast Miles was trying to deal with his case of blue balls in a way that wouldn’t end with him leaving a stain on the bed, or at least a crusty spot. He thought of unsexy things, which ended up turning into Coco. Each thought changed from how she looked, how she smelled, then to how her pert ass felt against him. His mind lingered there. Coco was beautiful, her entire body a temple, and it would be wrong to desecrate it without permission.

Still despite his best efforts he couldn’t focus on anything to make his pent up need simply disappear. He got up, conscious of the fact that he was sticking out further than normal, and made his way toward the bathroom. Once in it, he turned on the shower, set the water to cold, and instantly regretted getting into the shower. He nearly wanted to scream as the cold water rushed over him, but where simple will had failed him he now, the chilly liquid stopped his biological urges dead. The shock of the frigid water turned his erection from turgid to limp in an instant. Thank God for small favors, Miles thought.

He set himself to scrubbing down, cleaning himself up as he would normally do. A tough, pumice soap was used on his body, followed briefly by a much softer body wash, then some 2-in-1 shampoo, followed by a rinsing of his body to clean off any residual suds. Shutting down the shower, he stepped out onto the bathroom floor, shivering in the chill that crept in from underneath the doorway. He wrapped a towel around his head and proceeded to take a larger towel to dry himself. After a few minutes of toweling off, he removed the towel from his head and began the process of getting dressed.

Out on the road, while training, Miles would outfit himself in tracksuits or sweats. The warming material of those clothes meant he wouldn’t suffer hypothermia in his usual training region, the Rocky Mountain Slopes. At home, though, he preferred a more relaxed look. A hooded sweatshirt paired to jeans and some Chucks would be his more nominal casual wear. Miles thanked God, also, for the fact that he did laundry just yesterday, so his hamper wasn’t overflowing with soiled underwear or stained t-shirts…

The thought of Coco seeing the monster that would be his dirty laundry sent a shiver of embarrassment through him. Since their first date, the days that followed, and their calling each other, he’d fallen hard for her. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her to see him in even the slightest bit of a bad light. The moment his shoes were tied he walked his way down stairs. When he reached the kitchen he was greeted to the sight of a beautiful mare, nude as the day she was born, placing two plates on the table. The way she was bent, how she looked, all of it caused the blood to rush back toward the place he had worked so hard to get it away from.

Walking toward the table he pulled a seat back, letting her sit down.

“You got dressed?” she asked.

“Yeah, I… Sorry, I” he began before she stopped him.

She held his hand, pulling him gently down, and her mouth found his own. The kiss was full of promise, and there was no hint of teasing there. She broke the kiss, her eyelashes batting bashfully at him. He slowly took his own seat, right next to her, and the smell of the food began to overtake him. He felt her hand on his own, her eyes looking into his own, and finally the thing that interrupted the moment was the sound of two stomachs growling.

A sheepish smile crossed her lips, “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied as he looked at the breakfast, “Thanks for this.”

She cut her own omelet, and when she was through there was a perfectly formed triangle wedge ready to be eaten.

“You’re very welcome, and please, don’t worry about it. I enjoy cooking, and you had more than enough for me to work with,” she replied.

They began to eat, and instantly the amazing taste of the simple dish washed over him. He knew that she was a seamstress, but there was no doubt in his mind that she could have easily been a hell of a cook as well. He turned toward her when she let out a soft moan. He watched as she swallowed her bite, cut another wedge, and again she slipped it between her lips. It was simply eating a bit of the omelet, nothing else, and yet it was incredibly erotic.

He ate, as gracefully as he could, but he became more and more distracted as she continued to slowly devour her breakfast. The more base, animalistic side that was buried under generations of cultivation and social evolution began to express a deep desire to ravish and lay claim to the beautiful creature at his table. He’d heard tales about boxers back in the twentieth century who had given in to that side. Jared had told him the story about Mike Tyson, what he had done, and how it was a struggle for the boxer to get out of being stigmatised as what he had done.

Still, at that moment, Miles could understand what Tyson may have felt. But he resolved not to simply give into his more base side. It took so precious little time for them to finish their breakfast. Coco rose from her seat, giving Miles a winning smile, and as she walked her tail lifted, swinging to the left, and giving him a full view. She looked back at him, “Do you mind to show me where the shower is again?”

Getting up he walked toward her, and felt her hand slip into his own. They began to ascend the stairs, and as they walked his mind began to switch into a more autopilot mode. They reached the bathroom, opening it up and Coco looked at the tub, the floor, and then she turned toward him. Her hand brought his own up, and he moved in toward her. They kissed, again, but once they had he moved back.

“I… Uh… yeah, I’ll let you take your shower,” he said.

She watched as he walked back, a soft smile on her lips, her eyes mapping every part of him, especially below the belt, and she could see what was struggling to stand proud. Once he was out she slowly shook her head. Sure, she knew that she was falling for him. She could feel it, but even doing that it seemed unlikely that she’d basically be doing everything she could to arouse him.

She touched the water, feeling its warmth, and stepped into the stream they had started. She let the water cascade down her, feeling it touch every part of her, and slowly as she began to wash she rubbed herself. Her eyes opened as she moaned. It sounded lewd, unlady like, and full of the promises that a mare would give to her special somepony. Her eyes widened as she realized she had entered her estrus.

Sweet Luna’s teats, I’m in heat! she thought.

The realization did nothing to really calm her. Instead it brought the fact that there was a stallion, that she had deep feelings for, in the room next to her. A stallion that she wanted to take her, make her his mare, and do it over, and over again. As she showered she tried to relieve some of the tension that her heat had brought to her, but she found her fingers, while nimble and quick, to be a poor substitution for what she honestly wanted.

She finished the shower, smelling like his body wash, smelling like him, and feeling the flames of her heat rising higher than before. As she stepped out she felt the ancient part of her, the ancient ponies that all Equestrians descended from, climbing up and out. There was a clear path before her. She could smell Miles, how potent he was, how interested he was, and she needed that. She would have fought the heat, but there was no need. Her body was telling her that this was right. He was the one she was meant to be with, and he was the one that she was going to want for the rest of her life.

She grabbed two towels, drying briefly until she couldn’t stand it anymore. She walked out and headed toward his room. Once inside of it she saw him, lying back on his bed, his pride standing tall, and she moved toward the door frame.

Lying there he looked up at her. She stood in his doorway, her bottom lip slightly sucked in and being held by her teeth. There was no doubt that this was something they both wanted, something they needed. She didn’t say a word, but instead she walked toward his bed, crawling in beside him, her hands finding the hem of his jeans.

Author's Note

-Insert jazzy saxophone melody here.-
Miles and Coco are in Colorado, enjoying the mountains, and joining the Mile High Club. What? Miles lives in Denver, no joke.