Dream of Fancy
Big Macintosh lugged the cart full of hay into the barn, his sweaty body battling the heavy weight added to his withers. “An’ that’s the last of em—time settle back inside to catch some shuteye.”
He proceeded down the dirt road to the barn, turning around and screaming in the skies above.”What in tarnation?”
“Look out, Big Mac!” Fleetfoot called out, falling on deaf ears combined with her chest crashing into the side of Big Mac’s ribs.
The elite flyer clutched around dark red marks on her chest, pulling the stallion up on his hooves as she and Big Mac tumbled around the dirt road, rolling into a mud puddle. “I didn’t expect to end the day like this! Anyways, sorry that I came in crashing into you.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it. So what brings you down here to the farm?” Brushing the pile of mud off his back, Big Mac kept silent and awaited her response.
“I decided to check on you and see how things are going. Remember you won that stuffed plushie for me after I dealt with that other mare who wanted you?” Fleetfoot was always mixed on that memory, whether to forget it completely or laugh at how she got what she wanted, no kiss but a prize at least.
“Sometimes I wish I could forget that, you know. If you want, you can come inside and wash up,” Big Mac said calmly, pointing to the barn house.
“I appreciate the offer, Mac Attack, but I’d better head home because I don’t do well when it’s dark outside. Catch you tomorrow!” Fleetfoot planted a kiss on his cheek, flying out of sight before he could react.
“That pegasus is a mystery wrapped inside an enigma,” He shrugged the pegasus’ advances, and retired inside to the house.
Stars twinkled in the night sky painted in a dark indigo shade he was far too familiar with. He started walking up the stairs over to his right, stepping into the bathroom and turning on the shower head. Above his mane, a spurt of hot water sprayed, catching him off guard, resulting in him going into a jumping motion. Steam clouded around the bathroom and mirror, almost making the room unrecognizable if anypony curiously walked in on him. The hardworking stallion ran the sponge and a bar of soap in the water, lathering himself with bubbles beneath the shower, washing mud and dirt down the drain.
Big Mac switched the shower off, running a turquoise-colored towel down his mane and back, one hoof after the other touched down on the wooden floorboards. He could hear the pressure his hooves added to the floor, wood that has stood the test of time squeaked beneath him.
“All in a day’s work. Time to get some shut—what the hay?” The noble stallion made a beeline for his bed, as thunder rumbled about inside the heart of grey clouds arriving in the sky.
Leaving behind a trail of smoke to his destination, the feeling of relief kept him at ease for the time being. Cold beads of sweat ran down his forelock and his heart started to beat faster than usual during his morning chores. He retreated under the covers, poking his head out high keeping an eye out for any intruders. “Applejack you betta’ not be pullin’ my leg, this isn’t funny.”
No response.
Mac emerged from the covers’ solace that was covering the lower half of his body. He looked to the ceiling, eyelids drooped and soon his eyes couldn’t bare the weight of sweet bliss calling out to him. Unbeknownst to him, his right hoof traced a straight path down his erect member.
Luna sat alone in a dark room that had the only source of light available, open candle flames as melted candle wax started dripping on the floor. Her nostrils welcomed the air inside her bedroom, inhaling and exhaling stopped when Tiberius scurried across the floor to get her attention.
Holding Tiberius up by his tail in a small cloud of magic, his sorrowful eyes met her steely gaze for some pity from her owner. “Silly Tibbles, I keep telling you to stray away from me when I’m concentrating.”
Tiberius wiggled his nose and squeaked, not listening to any word that she uttered in his ultimate quest of eating his nightly cheese. The royal pet opossum followed a floating piece of swiss cheese, jumping up and nibbling the delicious delicacy in his mouth.
Morning crust around the corners of her eyes broke apart on the hard metallic material of Luna’s horseshoes. The central focus point of her magic was brought back to life sparking an amount of energy currently in her position, gravity taking a backseat allowing Luna an opportunity to float freely in the dreamscape. A realm of doors gravitated to the sole protector and keeper of the dreams, Luna pulled open the entrance to Big Mac’s dreams.
“I’m curious to see what this stallion dreams about,” Luna wondered, traveling deep inside of Big Macintosh’s subconscious.
“Fleetfoot, you really didn’t have to help me out with my chores.” Big Mac rubbed his neck, looking on at Fleetfoot flapping the strong wind currents rustling leaves and apples falling out the trees.
“I wanted to, I’m your guest after all,” Fleetfoot flew under the trees and scooped falling apples into buckets, sweltering heat rushed behind her quick work of the apples.
“Ah appreciate that really Ah do, want to join me for a mug of our finest cider?” Big Mac asked, inviting Fleetfoot into the barn cellar.
“I would love to,” Fleetfoot imagined Celestia’s sun combined with an oven, cooking and roasting her until she was completely burning deep inside herself.
He took his sweet time drinking the cider, drops of the liquid tingling his tongue. “How are ya enjoyin’ that their cider?”
“It’s cooling me down for sure. Why don’t we skip the cider and get straight to business?” Fleetfoot stretched her arm on the table, knocking cider mugs down.
She pounced on Big Mac, marking his face with kisses as he struggled to get a word in and was instead gasping for air.
“Mmmph—” The hardworking stallion’s mouth welcomed the invading tongue, poking around and inside the walls. “Oh, Fleetfoot!”
Luna’s dream form materialized into the cider cellar as the two ponies jumped to their hooves. “I am sorry to intrude on your intimate moment. But, I just wanted to see what really goes inside your head.” She flashed out of the dream into Big Mac’s bedroom.
“Maybe I should go I hear Spitfire calling me,” Fleetfoot sped out of the cider cellar, leaving behind puffs of grey smoke.
“Ah!” Mac huffed under his breath before throwing covers off the bed. He took a closer look in horror at his member, sound of thumping woke him out the dream.
“Every time!”
