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by Zontargs

Rating: mature
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Length: 1756

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Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-05-20 02:30:19 UTC

Futashy's Peach Tea

Futashy’s Peach Tea

Here, at the edge of Ponyville, your large form sprawls out over the small bench and under the table of the cafe and you watch the sun set on the small town. On the table rests a half-empty bowl of a bland, tasteless salad; some of the only food edible by both you and the locals available here. The locals find you less than palatable, though; there aren’t many ponies here that can stand your awkward and alien form. You sip the ice water and watch the Princess lower the sun at a comfortably sluggish pace, and a small thumping raps against your leg.

On the other side of the table Angel is tugging on your leg, and you flip him a bit of carrot from your bowl when you look for his pony. The look of concern on his face turns to frustration and throws it back at you, then tugs and points to the large treehouse at the far edge of the clearing, hugging the borders between Ponyville and the Everfree Forest. Fluttershy is nowhere around, so you leave a couple bits on the table, stand, and walk towards her house. You know the way there and your long strides leave Angel running to keep up. Fluttershy’s the only pony who really seems to care about you in this town. Twilight only had an academic interest in you, Pinkie Pie needs you to increase her friends list, Rarity finds you awkward to dress, and AJ and RD think you’re weak and slow. Fluttershy goes out of her way for you, to find things you can eat, to make sure you don’t sleep out in the cold, and cares for you if you feel under the weather.

It was only later that you discovered that you’re not the only strange one here. It makes a certain kind of sense that the two of you would learn to care for each other.    Sure, there are plenty of attractive colts and mares here, but all of them, save for one, are only mare or colt. Everypony here understands and accepts her biology matter-of-factly, and many have  enjoyed her special willingness and eager elicitations, but they find your own disgusting. Except for her. The only other one-of-a-kind is friends with the other one-of-a-kind, and you love her.

You arrive at her cottage to find her in the bedroom, curled up on her bed with a strained expression on her face.

“Fluttershy? What’s wrong?”

“Oh thank goodness, it’s you…” she replies before letting out a small squeak, somehow curling up into a smaller ball. “I have, um, I have a…a tummyache. I feel sick.”

You smile and sit on the bed next to her, pulling her upright and wrapping your arms around her. She’s just as tall as you sitting on the bed, and her weight leans against you.

“I just feel…woozy, too full…like I’m…I’m…going to pop!” She lets out a loud squeak with the last word, shutting her eyes, and you lessen your grip around her.

“I know just what to do, Fluttershy,” you reply with a smile. Her eyes open and lock with yours for a moment, full of gratitude and love, her mouth hanging open.

“Here Fluttershy, stand up and turn around.” You twirl your finger at her.

“Oh…okay…” She stands and does as she’s told, moving like an overfilled waterbaloon, but you have to stop her when she tries to keep turning. A small gasp escapes her when you grab and lift her tail, revealing her tight pink butthole atop her small pink wound and her large fleshy balls. Her member hangs flaccid between her legs. A familiar sight, considering your history with the cute yellow pony.

You lick your finger and place it at the center of the tight wrinkles, and her bottom squeezes together to pinch your finger in place.

“You need to let it out, Fluttershy,” you coo to her, “let me help you.” She relaxes a little, but only for a moment. The cool touch of your tongue against her fever-hot flesh causes her to grip your face. Her own is laying against the pillow, looking back at you in shock and worry when you pull yours from her behind.

“Please, Fluttershy, relax and let it out. Trust me, you’ll feel better,” you say with your most reassuring smile. You spy her spotted member swelling with blood and her balls begin to lower a bit. You flatten your tongue against her taint and slide it slowly upward across her small exit before whispering “let it go.”

Her anus relaxes for a moment, and you push your tongue inside. She tightens again with a squeak, but tries her best to push for you. Her insides push your tongue out and a small squirt of translucent orange syrup sprays onto your lips. Licking them clean, you let her tail down onto your head and use both of your hands to pull her cheeks apart, allowing your mouth to seal around her, pushing your tongue back inside. Up and down, left and right, in and out, you work her sphincter wider and taste more of her.

Another squeak, and your first bit of reward slides into your mouth: a slice of peach within a thick peach pie filling. Hot and sweet, you gulp it down without closing your mouth. Under you she pushes again and you can feel her body tensing, her butt hole widening to deliver more of her sweet treats into your face. You relax your jaw and throat, welcoming the next burst, savoring the feel of her peaches shooting past your lips and into your waiting mouth, enjoying one of the best meals Ponyville has to offer.

You greedily swallow, not wasting time to chew, quickly before her next offering. This one comes with a grunt before her squeak, the peaches packed tightly together as they fill the spaces between your teeth and cheeks, this serving the biggest she’s given you yet. Her syrup is starting to leak down your chin and onto her balls, and it only gets worse when you try to swallow again. Her body gives you a small reprieve. A couple long, weak strings of the syrup ride small peach farts into your mouth.     She lets out a sigh and, for a moment, you just enjoy tonging her.

Suddenly her body stiffens again and forces three more slices of peaches swimming in syrup out of her behind, arching over the small gap between your face and her flanks, her thick juices dribbling down strings onto your chin.

Her knees wobble on either side of her rock-hard dripping cock, and you move down to lick clean her soft, warm, wet vagina.

“Th-thank you, I-“ You cut her off by turning her over onto her back, letting her cock stand tall a moment. Spotted, pulsing, and thick, you push aside one of her legs and slip the flat tip past your lips and into your mouth; sweet pre covers the tip and slathers your tongue as it goes deeper and deeper within you. Your eyes close for a moment, enjoying the warm weight on your tongue, the shaft parting your jaw and filling your mouth.

Her hoof brushes against your face and breaks your reverie. You answer her questioning face with a light pressure on her belly with your hand and suck on her member. She nods and closes her eyes.

Your hand at the base of her shaft feels the hot liquid before your mouth does, and your mouth begins to suck even before it reaches the opening in her wide, flat tip. The peach tea comes in a little dribble at first, but her stream strengthens and evens out. The jet of warm tea pokes against the back of your throat, then your tongue as you try to swallow and drink.

Seconds pass in the silence of the room, the only sounds piercing it the small stream of her peach tea into your mouth and your thirsty gulps between breaths. It stops as it started: a small dribble of sweetness in your mouth. You run your lips back up her length, kissing the top. You close your eyes to savor the last swallow.

You almost spit it out when her cock pokes against your lips. Opening your eyes, you see a mischievous smile on her face, her tongue hanging out one side. She puts a hoof on the back of your head and prods your lips, now sharing the smile.

Back into your mouth it goes, wet and slippery, and both her hooves rest on the back of your head. Her legs rest on your shoulders, using them as leverage to help her cock thrust in and out of your mouth, her balls slapping against your chin. One of your hands slips between them and pushes into her dripping vagina, the other squeezing lightly one of her large, fleshy orbs. Her breathing strains and her squeaks become shorter, almost grunts, as she gets closer and closer to climaxing in your mouth.

The last thrust causes her whole body to tense; around your fingers in her vagina, her legs on either side of your head, and her hooves on the back of it. The flat tip of her cock forces its way to the top of your throat and spurts a warm, thick liquid far back inside you as you gag. Her vice grip holds you in place and you can feel her balls tensing and twitching against you, covered by her on all sides, taking her in.

You can’t swallow her load fast enough, and it fills the rest of your mouth with the taste of warm peach custard, streams pressing your cheeks out and spilling from your lips. For a few moments her reserves seem bottomless, but her pulses subside and her grip loosens. As you pull your head up and off her deflating member, you see her eyes closed and mouth hanging open in ecstasy.

You wipe your face off on the back of your hand and climb forward on the bed, pulling the blanket with you. You snuggle up next to her, playing the big spoon, and tuck the blanket around her fevered body. Wrapping your arms around her, you look out her window and catch the last slivers of sunlight leaving the sky. A bit of shuffling to get yourself comfortable and you drift off with the small, sick pony asleep under the blanket in your arms.

-soashamedpony