As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip

As Ye Sew So Shall Ye Rip

A Coco Pommel in the Vogonverse Tale

Afterglow

Coco stirred awake, her estrus fogged mind clear for a moment, and she felt the warm body behind her. She was glad it was with Miles, she really was. A yawn escaped her, and she shifted in bed only to feel his softened stallionhood slide out with a pop. There was no lie that she felt full. Miles had performed far better that she thought possible. It wasn’t like she had much of an idea of what it was like to be taken by a stallion. Recently, she had been simply dealing with her heat with a small collection of toys, all of which she had left back home, and maybe there was a small part of her that wanted to leave them there.

Before that Rarity had been a primary outlet during her estrus. Her generous friend had usually thought to bring a cooler, and typically it would be after hours in ‘Rarity For You’ that they would help each other. Still, that had been different. It was also different from when she and Cheri helped each other out. Cheri was a passionate vixen, granted, but Coco could never quite be sated after a session with her. Cheri often referred to those sessions as “being a friend with benefits.” It was hard to explain exactly what she meant by that, but it had been quite unlike what had occurred with Miles.

One keen difference she could determine between what she did with her friends and what she and Miles just did was the feeling of completeness. Miles was still lodged in her core and even though he was still asleep, she could still feel the throbbing veins along his shaft. The warmth from her core added to the heat of his erection, making for a soothing sensation deep inside her. No cooler could ever make that happen. Nor could any of her friends make her feel safe and secure in their arms; Miles’ warrior style exercise regimen forged his body into something like thunder steel. Coco may have been trapped within his reach, but it a comfortable little prison sentence.

She would have preferred to stay that way, with Miles buried in her depths, but a combined series of events conspired to disrupt this little moment of harmony. First, Coco realized she had to pee, then the phone rang, Miles awoke with a start and dislodging himself from her; he subsequently fell from bed and landed on his rump, cursing. She couldn’t help but giggle at his flailing.

“Son of a…” Miles grumbled as he slowly pulled himself up.

She took a moment to really look at him. There’d been stallions she had measured before for suits. Several of the Manehattan elite, who had came in and wanted the latest in fashion. One of them was an Earth Pony named Vega Vines. He’d come in with his friend Jewels Whinnyfield, and she knew that the two of them worked for Manecellous Wallace. They were customers, nothing else, but she remembered Vega having the body of a pony that had done some hard work.

Miles blew Vega away. His back, ass, and legs looked like the statues of the Greek Gods she’d seen in Vegas. A primal part of her wanted to pull him back down into the bed, have him take her, or maybe her take him. But, she held off, hearing him answer the phone.

“Mickey? What’s going on?” he asked.

“Fight? Yeah, I know the heavyweight title, sure, I’m up for a heavyweight bout, but Mickey, I’m still training,” he paused for a moment, “Rasputin? You mean Draco? Hell’s Bells Mickey, that guy ain’t a joke.”

She watched as he stood there for a moment, “No, I know, look, he’s climbed his way up the ladder, I have to give him a shot. So, what did I hear about Manny, yeah, Manny Walton?” he was quiet for several minutes, “Jesus, really? Oh fuck, Manny was good too. How long?” she read his posture, “Oh shit… Two rounds. Just two rounds? Damn it… No, no, I’ll keep the training up. Set it with his manager. Thanks Mickey.”

She watched as he took a seat on the bed. The worry showed in every stiff muscle, every rigid line in his back. She got on her knees, and moved toward him. Without asking, or saying a word she sat down behind him, spreading her legs out and moved up close to him. She hugged his back, and then slowly she began to rub it.

It was meant to be soothing, comforting, and it began to work. He leaned into her digilant hands, letting her take the lead as she rubbed the stiffness out of his back. She stopped after several minutes and pulled him up against her. He made a soft soothing sounding sigh and seemed to completely relax.

“I could really get used to this,” he said.

The truth was, so could she. She could get used to it. She wanted to help him, make him happy, and she knew that he wanted to do the same for her. She felt her breasts squishing against his back, and she knew that he could feel them as well. Slowly, he broke the hold, turned toward her, and kissed her deeply. A smile crossed her muzzle. She wanted to make him relax, she wanted to make him feel good, but she’d be lying if she didn’t admit that she wanted this well.

She certainly needed to feel him inside of her. To feel his length and thickness pushing into her, taking her, and there was so much she wanted to do. She moved to lay back, pulling him with her, and she felt his body on hers. Her legs were already open, and she felt the stirring of his length already. Her mouth opened, an invitation, and he accepted. His tongue found her own, and together they danced. The swirling, feeling, and it only added to the joy she was feeling.

His strong hands moved on her sides, stopping near her hips, and she felt him softly cupping her cutie marks. The tip of his stallionhood touching her lower lips, daring to part them, and then she felt it, the need she felt earlier. Her eyes widened as she realized that she needed to go now!

She pushed him up, gently, and her brow showed her awkward, and embarrassing, feeling toward what she had to say.

“I… Miles, I have to go, to the bathroom.”

A gentle smile crossed his lips, he moved over, and she got up. She moved, quickly, out of the room, across the hall, and into the master bathroom. She no sooner made it to the toilet, and sat down, then it escaped her. Her breath came out and she thought about what just happened. Would he still be in the mood? She was, by Luna’s sweet velvety snatch was she still in the mood!

She finished, wiped, and headed back toward the bedroom. He was still there, still undressed, and she could see that he was still interested and in the mood. A happy sounding whinny escaped her lips, and she moved toward him. He started to get up, but she placed a hand on him, indicating that she wanted him to remain seated. She instead went to her knees. Looking ahead she saw her prize. The large purplish head stuck out at her, and roughly she guessed that it was easily the size of a nectarine. She opened her mouth, taking the head in, and swirled her tongue around it.

She tasted him, his musk, and herself. She pulled back, spotting part of the sheet, wiping him off slightly, and then took him back into her mouth. She moved down, feeling the texture of his shaft, the way it moved into her mouth, and she stopped before it could go to the back of her throat. She pulled back, and looked up at him. She fluttered her eyelashes coyishly at him, and nearly wanted to titter at the way he blushed.

She took him into her mouth, ignoring the taste of her own passion on him. She wanted to do this, to make him feel good, and she felt him resting a hand on the back of her head. He wasn’t pushing, but it felt surprisingly good to have him doing this. She felt him pull back, and she felt confused for a moment before he helped her to the bed. Before she could blink he had traded positions with her, and suddenly he was doing for her what she had been doing for him. She felt herself so close, “I want you.”

She hadn’t believed those words left her lips. She did want him, but she hadn’t said it. To her surprise, he didn’t disappoint. Instead he moved up to her, moved inside of her, and she wrapped her legs around him. This was what she was wanting. This was what she had been needing. She cried out in ecstasy as they gave each other to one another again. It was what she needed, what she wanted, and by Celestia it felt amazing.

They lasted for such a long time, and when they were done she was once again snuggled against him. He was no longer inside of her, which in and of itself could be a good thing. She considered what to do. The day was wearing on, and evening was already here. Her estrus was less demanding now, which was fantastic, although she knew it would flare up again. Still, she wanted to do something for them both. A nice meal, something to drink, and she could potentially do it all from here. Smilingly sweetly she got up, and noticed that Miles’ eyes had closed. She wasn’t going to complain. He had performed wonderfully, and she would indeed make them a wonderful dinner, and then she’d reclaim her prize.

She walked down stairs, remembering to grab her cell phone, and accessed Julia from it.

“Hello dear! My, it looks as though you’ve been rather busy,” Julia said.

She grinned and looked at the refrigerator, “Julia, I want to make a dish for Miles. Something with fish, but something special. Something that would show him that I lik… no, that I love him.”

“Ah, well there is no quicker way to a man’s heart than from his stomach, I believe I have a wonderful recipe that should provide all that you want to say, and express, into a wonderful little French number. Let’s see, we need butter, I suggest Rider Farm’s butter since it is actual butter and not synthetic, Flounder, flour, garlic, salt, and some red wine. I seem to be unable to connect with his refrigerator, would you be willing to check it for me?”

Coco looked into it, “Oh, he’s out of butter, there’s no fish at all, and it looks like he doesn’t have any flour. He does have some garlic though, and I see a salt container,” Coco replied.

“Well, then if you don’t mind I’ll connect to a local grocery and order what we need. Would you like the fish to be fresh?” Julia asked.

“Yes, the freshest that they can send,” Coco replied.

“Wonderful, wonderful!” Julia exclaimed, “it will be delivered forthwith! You should be receiving your ingredients in twenty minutes. The total shall be deducted from your account.”

“Thank you, Julia,” Coco said, beaming, “if I’m to receive a delivery, I should find a house coat or something.”

Her new objective in mind, Coco searched the house for a robe or house coat; lucky enough, she found a bathrobe just long enough to keep her modesty. The article was discovered in the first floor bathroom. It wouldn’t allow much room for her tail, but she reasoned she wouldn’t be wearing it for all that long. EVen better, half of her wait time had been eroded in search of raiment.

Her heat fluctuated high and low as she readied the kitchen for the feast she was preparing. Even after a thorough satiation by MIles, she still felt the fire of estrus like an inferno in her lions. Her core, still slick with Miles fluid, was burning up again, and try as she might, Coco was having difficulty keeping her hands to herself. She bitterly regretted not going upstairs and retrieving her panties. AT the very least, that might take a modicum of the edge off.

If she were truthful with herself, though, the sojourn upstairs would only result in further mating, as her heat began to build to a crescendo. Her heart rate, breathing, and even perspiration climbed, just thinking of the virile male asleep in the master bedroom. She had push those thoughts aside to keep from charging back up there and having her way with him. It was a small smile of relief that the doorbell rang.

“Just coming!” Coco exclaimed and trotted to the door.

Upon opening the portal, she was met with a young man in a uniform of some sort, with the name “Donovan” emblazoned over the left breast of his polo shirt and hauling bags in both hands. Over a scruffy mane of sandy blonde hair was a maroon cap bearing a seafood motif logo which had the words, “Pacific Mercantile Company,” stitched in navy. The bags in the young colt’s hands also bore the same logo as did the delivery van the colt drove in.

“Are you Coco Pommel?” Asked the colt in a dreary voice, and after receiving a nod from the mare, he continued, “Delivery for you.”

“Oh, thank you!” The mare said cheerfully, taking the four grocery bags on her hands and placing inside of the front door. When the colt handed her a tablet, she saw the Pacific Mercantile Company logo in it's frame; the tablet displayed a receipt of all the items Julia had ordered for her. She was being billed ninety-eight credits. Lower on the bill, there was a delivery charge of five credits and then a blank space for a tip. She thought moment about what she should enter there and decided she wanted an even bill. She left Donovan with a 22 credit tip.

“There you go,” Coco said with a smile, “have a nice day!”

Donovan took the receipt, glanced at the tablet and started to walk off. Then he stopped, glanced back at the tablet, and smile started on his face.

“You- you, too, ma’am,” Donovan replied, “have yourself a nice day.”

He entered the delivery van, started it up (the hum of the electric motor a far cry from Miles diesel machine,) he backed out of the drive and trundled his way back to town. Coco was sure the small smile she saw on him earlier had broken into a full on grin when he passed her by.

She watched as the van spd off down the mountain, then when it disappeared around the corner, she returned to her slowly defrosting ingredients. Bringing the haul back to the kitchen, where Julia was waiting on her smartphone, Coco began to sort out the foodstuffs. She also gathered the necessary utensils she would need to bring this recipe to life.

“Are you ready Ms. Pommel?” Julia asked.

“I’m ready,” Coco announced, disrobing because of her heat.

“Very well,” Julia beamed, “let us begin!”

Miles groaned as he slowly got up. He was tired, but the good kind of tired. It was the tired of a man that had pleased the woman, or in this case the mare, he was falling in love with. He sat up, feeling the stiffness of his body. There was a slight crash, and he stood up. Grabbing a pair of sweatpants he pulled them on and then headed down the stairs.

What waited for him was a mess in the making. Coco had ingredients laid out, and from the look of it she had been on the receiving end of some very warm water. He walked toward her, wrapping her hand in a towel, kissing it, and then proceeded to see what was left. She had filleted the fish she’d bought. Exceptionally fresh fish that would have only been fresher if they would have been pulled from a tank, there was peeled potatoes, and from the look of it she was attempting to poach them.

He proceeded to cut the potatoes, grabbed a large skillet, filled it halfway with oil, and then turned the heat on the stove. When the oil began to heat he began putting in the potatoes. He then grabbed the fish, smiled at her, and she walked over toward him.

“I wanted to do something special,” she said.

The sweet look on her face was enough to make his heart melt, “It’s okay, we’ll do this together.”

And together they began to bread the fish before putting it into another skillet that Coco had prepared. They cooked side by side, and he showed her how his antiquated stove worked. He let her know that it was a little temperamental and it did tend to be about five degrees hotter than it indicated on the knob. Slowly the smell of fried fish and potatoes began to fill the air, and after a few more moments it was ready. He helped her get everything onto a couple of platters, and then he grabbed the bread and some butter.

The two of them took a seat, and he watched as she bit into the fish. The expression on her face was one of pure bliss. He took a bite as well, and he had to admit it was pretty good. He hadn’t eaten much Flounder, but he could get used to having some flat fish from time to time. Coco seemed to savor each bite, and he did the same. He gathered the dishes, putting them into the sink, and then he saw her getting up, stretching across the table. Her tail lifted and flicked out of the way showing everything she had.

He walked toward her, gently touching her cutie mark, and she let out a soft moan.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she purred.