Hot Bruises

I knew when Caramel was trying to dodge around an issue. Unfortunately, confrontation was something he was overspecialized in, so it was virtually impossible for him to talk without bringing up the elephant in the room, whatever it was. In this case, he didn’t want me to know where he was taking me until it would be too late for me to hike back to Ponyville. I loved the guy, but he could be… insistent. Bit of a control freak at the worst of times. I still have fond memories of Big Mac and Spitfire’s wedding, which Carm had the (mis)fortune of planning. Knowing the difference between eggshell and white was a burden he had to bear. Spitfire was a happy camper from beginning to end, so Caramel was a substitute bridezilla all the way to the end of the reception.

Luckily for me, I was able to put two and two together. Which equaled four grapes. I dropped them into my open mouth one by one, chewing them slowly to absorb every bit of flavor. Zecora taught me how to ‘experience’ my food, and now even the simplest meal is an orgasm in my mouth. Except I’m the one orgasming.

“Nom,” I said, wolfing down another grape. “Mrah, I love it when the juice drips down my chin.”

“Wow, you’re really tearing through that bag,” Caramel said, once again failing miserably at small talk, especially since he had to keep his eyes to the road.

“The good ol’ Apple Family gut. It’s a blessing and a curse.” I patted myself on the belly.

“Thaaaaat’s not exactly what I was about to comment on, but good for you.” Caramel eyed me curiously as I wiped up the juice from my chin, licking it off my hand after. No drop would go unwasted.

“So, when’re you gonna drop the bomb on what exactly I’m gonna be doing?” I asked.

“Once we’re there.”

Stallion of few words. Guess that’s another bit of the Apple Family charm, or maybe it’s because he hangs out with Big Mac so much. “And when’re we gonna get there?”

“Soon.”

“How soon is that?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he snips at me.

“Uh huh.” I popped another grape into my mouse, raising my brow at him. “Sho shoon ish gerna be shoon.”

“Yup. So, um... how’s that portfolio thing of yours going?”

I felt the grape go down my throat. For a moment, I was worried I was gonna choke. I held in a cough and sat up straight. “Hey, let’s have the radio.” I hit the power switch on the outdated device with my fist. All that came on was static.

Caramel may not be good at dodging around an issue, but he at least understood that I wanted to avoid the issue entirely. “Uh, okay,” he said with a defeated sigh. He tapped the radio. “Give it a sec, it needs to warm up.”

After an uncomfortable moment of silence ran its course, the radio finally started playing something worth listening to. When the electric guitar went off, I couldn’t resist using my hands as drumsticks on the dashboard. The song told me to bang my head, so I did. I looked at Caramel as I did so, surprised to see that he was singing along. “Heeey, I didn’t know you were into classic metal!” I yelled over the radio.

“Hell yeah, I’m all over this,” he replied. As the second third of the song kicked in, he started tapping his fingers along the rim of the steering wheel. “If keeping a band together weren’t so stressful, I’d have formed a cover band a year ago. But instead, I’m stuck doing MASWAG.”

“That an acronym for somethin’? Wait, let me guess.” I held up my arms and searched my mind for whatever those initials could spell out. “...Mildly Attractive Stallion With A Guitar?”

“I like to think I can add a little spice to a stagnant formula, but there’s only so much you can do with one base instrument.”

“Aw, stop bein' hard on yourself. I owe a lot of fantastic nights to yer songs.”

“At great risk to my own sanity, I ask how?”

I gestured to the radio with a nod. “Y’know how you can jive real easily t’ music with the right beat? Turns out it works really well when the jivin’ stallion’s got you bent over—”

“Ah ah ah!” Caramel through his hand up to quiet me down, but it didn’t do much to hide my smile, I don’t think. “Yeah. Risky.”

I just shrugged and leaned back in the seat, giggling a bit. “You asked.”

“I’ll be sure to learn from that lesson, trust me. Ugh, why am I always so curious?” A scoff came out of him as he looked down the road, rolling countryside seen for miles all around us. I always wondered why Ponyville didn’t expand out here, or at least why my sis didn’t try and set something up. All this fertile land, and nothin’ being done with it.

“I ‘unno, you ain’t gettin’ any?”

“The most famous folk musician in the county, and you think I’m suffering in the ‘any’ department?”

I shrugged, raising my brow at him as I popped another grape from my shrinking supply. Hopefully there’d be more wherever the heck we were going. “Dry spell. It happens.”

Caramel chuckled, drumming his fingers on the rim of the steering wheel. “It does, but luckily I’ve got a lot of charm. So, I guess I’m just a sucker for learning what goes on in that dark mind of yours.”

“Ain’t that the same as a lotta villains in stories...? They just wanna learn about the dark arts, then suddenly they’re taking over a country?”

He grinned, raising an eyebrow. “What, you figure I’d make a good one?”

“Could make for a good song. Somethin’ dangerous and heavy, story about takin’ over the world and trampling all those do-gooder heroes in the way, with chintzy long songs that leave single moms shivering from the waist down.” I clawed at the air in front of me and meowed.

“I can think of a name for it already. Stars a no-good carpenter looking to build a mansion on the ruins of a town she took over, staffing it full of burly big stallions that she teases daily. It would be called...” Pauuuuse for dramatic effect. “An Apple’s Lament.”

“Why ‘lament’? That doesn’t sound so bad!”

“The song would be from AJ’s perspective.”

“Oh.” And we were back here again. And the radio was already at max volume. I really hated this car.

Carm, showing an impressive amount of audacity, shot a smirk at me. “Not that this young carpenter's plans get off the ground, mind. She prefers to spend all day lazing around in the sun in skimpy clothes eating the sweetest thing she can get her hands or lips on.”

“Jest as you will, Sir Carm. In that department, I am well renowned for my lips.” I kissed the air to show them off, looking at Carm and half-lidding my eyes. “Picture perfect, aren’t they?”

“The lips? Yeah, I’d say so. The expression?” He cringed, putting on a thin grin. “Ow.”

I motioned my hand over my face, changing my expression to a wide grin. “Hey now, it ain’t that horrible! Even though I feel like a despicable stain for doin’ it, it ain’t that bad!” I waved my hand back over, displaying a frown. “Seriously though, where are we goin’?”

Caramel pointed to my side of the car. “Look out the window and take a wild guess.”

I did as he asked, and since I didn’t know what to expect in the first place, the sight of a cliff overlooking a gorgeous beach was certainly a welcome sight. It was no Zanzebra, but the place was rife with vegetation, golden sand, and some gorgeous tropical trees that aren’t seen around Ponyville.

I was like a student unicorn on their first visit to Canterlot. I got on my knees and planted my hands on the window. “Surprise beach trip?! Holy shit, Caramel! For a second, I thought you were takin’ me out to some incredibly diggable patch of dirt or somethin’ to get revenge on me for sleepin’ with your distant cousin!”

Caramel shot me a look again. “Excuse me?”

I sat back down. “Nothin’. How’s Treble Cleft doing, anyway?”

He reluctantly returned to looking at the road. “She’s doing fine, thank you.”

“So, now that I know the where of it, I just need to know the why of it. I’m pretty sure ya took me to the beach for a bigger reason than to stare at mah beautiful self in mah swim garb—” I stopped short, slapping my hand across my muzzle. “Dammit, I don’t have a swimsuit!”

“Packed you one already. It’s in the back.” Caramel pointed over his shoulder. I undid my seatbelt so I could lean around my seat and reach into the back of the truck, which I found a small travel pack. Inside was a bottle of suntan lotion, some shades, and a two-piece yellow bikini with a sarong.

“Well, wouldja lookit that?” I held the beauty up to my chest. The cups were a little on the small side, but I should have expected something like that. It’s hard to get someone’s size right if you go clothes shopping without them. At least, that’s what I told myself at first. I looked up at Caramel with a snide smirk. “Carm, are you a pervert?”

I knew Caramel would try to sidestep that question. He deliberately looked away from me, suddenly finding the windshield to be unusually fascinating. “I might not approve of it too much, but I know how much you love to flaunt yourself. Plus, I figured the boys could use something to ogle. It’s a total dudefest down there. Which is fine for a few of them, but the straight dudes haven’t seen a mare in days.”

“Is that so?” I asked, my interests suddenly piqued.

“They’re all royal guards on vacation, and they’re ripped as hell.”

I pursed my lips as I held in a squee.

I’m gonna lay down a disclaimer here: I was never a slut or a narcissist, but given recent, uh, complications in my life, I did like some of the reassurance that I was beautiful and could clean up nicely, despite often walking around with bedhead and wearing whatever clothes were lying around on the floor that day. It was a bit of a dark time for me, and getting ogled was a nice distraction from my problems, trivial as they were.

“Oh, and Creed’s gonna be there.”

“What?!” My eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “What the shit, Caramel? Do ya have any idea how long Creed an’ I’ve been tryin’ to meet up? Months. Freakin’ months. And ya’ve been keepin’ him hidden under yer shirt for how long?”

“He only got back from Neighpon yesterday, calm down.”

“I stand by mah previous statement: What the shit, Caramel? If ya’d told me that Creed, the steel bull of the royal guard, was only an hour’s drive away, I woulda hopped in this vehicle like I would hop on his—”

“Stop yourself.” Caramel was quick on the draw to interrupt me before I said something embarrassing. “I didn’t bring you along to flirt with your pen pal. But it’s been awhile since I last saw him too, so…” Caramel turned the wheel and pulled onto a dirt road. He turned the radio down as we arrived on the beach. “Yeah, I guess it’s cool if you chill with him for a little bit. But come by the cabin as soon as you can.”

“Yeah sir,” I replied with a sarcastic salute. I opened the door just as the car came to a halt. When Caramel turned the car off, the sound of the engine’s compaction was louder than the engine itself. I wondered how Caramel drove that damn thing every day without getting a migraine.

I saw a lineup of five sporty cars that would be three times over out of Caramel’s salary. The royal guard may be strict on who gets in, but it was then that I realized how much of a freakin’ mint they make. I walked along the line of cars, examining my reflection in every single one until I reached the end, where I found a pretty sick chopper. It had a flame pattern traveling down its cowl and tank. “Well, sprint down to the marketplace and buy some apples! This thing is a beauty!”

“Isn’t it?” I heard a deep voice say behind me. “Rented that beast in Neighpon, but by the time I had to leave, I couldn’t leave it behind. Worth every bit.”

Oh, dang.

I almost didn’t want to turn around. There are things in the world that you just take for granted. Monuments, vistas, famous restaurants, celebrities, and other things you know are amazing and don’t need to see them to know it. And yet, you might see these things in real life, and suddenly the magic just disappears. Like, it was an intangible wonder outside your realm of understanding, and seeing it for yourself just makes it seem too real. Too plain.

Creed was like that for me. Caramel had briefly introduced me to him half a year ago, when we were at a Five Feet Fetlocks concert up in Canterlot. The concert was so extravagant that they hired royal guards to supervise the whole thing. And guess who was buddy-buddy enough with Caramel to let us in for cheap? None other than the most beautiful bull I ever laid eyes on. Tall, dark, buff, and yet gentle, like a teddy bear with a gym membership.

I couldn’t just stay standing there, though. One thing to preserve a dream, but there were more beautiful things than this bike to ogle, and I was sure that the steel bull would be just as gorgeous as I remembered him. Taking a deep breath and steadying my heartbeat, I turned slowly around, hand on my hip. Threw in a flick of my hair over the shoulder, too, just to keep it out of the way as I took the whole sight in. “Hey, Creed,” I said with a saucy, sensual voice. “How you—” My voice squeaked. “—doin’!”

I covered my mouth and cried myself a river on the inside. And yet, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. I knew he’d be far less modest than he was when I saw him in Canterlot (he was on-duty and it was still technically winter), and I knew that, being at the beach and all, he’d probably be showing some skin, but this was way more skin than I was expecting. Not just in the quantity of he showed, but the quality, oh my… The only thing keeping the rest of him out of sight was a pair of ripped jeans.

Almost as impressive as his smooth, incredibly broad shoulders and quite prominent abs was his set of slick horns. Not a chip nor rough patch to be found in them, and they were quite long. I’d heard rumors about what a bull’s horns represent, and if those long pieces of ivory meant anything...

It must’ve taken a bit for me to get over the, haaa, look of him, because I felt somethin’ poking at my forehead. Wouldn’t have been surprised if I was on my knees at that point.

“Seems there’s a damsel here who’s left her mind somewhere else,” he said.

“Eep!” I tore my eyes off his… large chest and looked up at his face, finding a little solace in that chill smile of his. “Well hey there! Uh, d-didn’t notice, uh...”

“I’m sure you ‘noticed’ quite a bit, Bloomer.” He approached his ride and rested his beefy arm on the handlebar. I could see his bicep bulge as he did so.

“Yes,” I blurted out way too quickly. “I mean…” I took a deep breath again. “No, I mean… I’d rather talk. About things. What have ya been up to the past few months? We kept trading’ letters, but then ya dropped off the radar. Thought ya might’ve forgotten ‘bout me.”

“Well, who in Equestria could do that?” he said with a shrug. “Nah, the truth is that Neighpon’s messaging service is a bitch and a half to deal with at the best of times. I wanted to keep in contact with you, but they stopped accepting my letters.” He smirked, chuckling deeply. “Maybe one of the higher-ups got jealous of you?”

“What? Naaaah...” I smiled and waved it off, before looking back at him. “...Really?”

“Not sure. But I did keep writing until they sent me a cease and desist. Just wish they would’ve gotten off their collective rumps and kept sending them.”

“It was some big political dispute,” said Caramel informatively as s he unloaded some wooden planks out of the back of the truck. “Something about the taxmergerbusinesseconomytreatybrouhaha of something or other.”

“Oh, riiight,” Creed said, snapping his fingers. “The TMBETBSO. Pain in the arse. But hey,” he bumped himself on his chest, which glimmered in the sunlight... “I’m here now.”

“Yeah, you are…” I muttered. I caught myself and cleared my throat, then held out my arms. “Bring it in for a hug, big guy.”

I knew he’d be a softy when he put his arms around me. He was just as gentle as his voice and demeanor. My intentions were a little selfish, to be honest. I wanted to get a sneak preview of what I was sure would transpire later. My head barely came up to his pecs. Such a shame, because I somewhat dwarf my friends, and very nearly Caramel, but in was in that rare moment that I felt humbled. At the very least, I could hear his heartbeat. Like the rest of him, smooth and calm, a far cry from my loud and fast one. A whole summer of sugar and sex will do that to ya.

“What were you doin’ in Neighpon anyway?” I asked as the hug came to an end all too soon.

“Come on, walk and talk.”

Creed strode over to Caramel’s truck and took out a few more pieces of wood. An awful lot of wood in that truck, I noticed. I put that observation aside and followed the lug closely, just barely keeping our arms from touching.

“I felt a little worked up from a lot of restless nights in Canterlot,” Creed said. “Such demanding work… Some delinquents just don’t know how to act. I felt I needed some positivity, so I took a last-minute boat ride to Neighpon. I spent a few weeks doing yoga, and might I say the instructor was very impressed with what I could do.”

“You hit that?” I blurted out.

“Yes,” he said just as bluntly. “She was a tiny thing, but we made it work with a few advanced poses. I had reach, and she had flexibility. We certainly impressed each other during our sessions together. It’s amazing how much you can do without a horizontal surface.”

Made me think of some of the no-bone ponies in the yoga center back in town. Those guys could turn themselves into living pretzels, but I figured all that flexibility was worth something in bed. Or out of it. “Might I have a bit of a demonstration?” my horny side let slip.

And, as I expected, Creed took it in stride. “In a while. I don’t want to distract you from your project today.”

I shook my blush off. “Project? What project?”

Creed cocked his brow and stopped walking, turning to me. “I was under the impression that you came here to show off your carpentry.”

I was sure that if I looked into a reflection, I would end up seeing flames around my eyes and shoulders. I glared at Caramel, who was standing just ahead of us in front of the cabin, shrugging at me.

I threw my fist at him. “I’ll tie ya buck naked to a pair ‘a steers an' ring a cowbell, you sonuvabitch! No one embarrasses me and gets away with it!” I yelled. He didn’t seem intimidated, simply smiling and holding up hammer, as well as a bottle of wood glue. “An’ that’s not enough supplies for even a birdhouse!”

“Well, obviously there are more utilities inside.” Caramel nodded to the cabin and walked up the front steps. The bizarre thing is that he had to step over the door to get inside. The door was torn in half, part of it hanging off the hinges, and the other lying on the patio abandoned. “Come on in. It’s a little drafty, but I’m sure you can fix that!”

“You can, can’t you?” Creed asked. “Why would you be embarrassed to help fix up the cabin?”

“Ehhhh. Let’s just say I ain’t too enthusiastic about wood ‘n nails lately.” I punched the air and strutted in a circle, groaning dramatically. “But Carm ain’t exactly the type to grasp the meaning of ‘Leave me alone and let me figure it out.’ Or, ‘Today’s a cheat day, let me eat that cake,’ or even ‘I’m alone out here, who cares about bras?’”

“You seem worked up. Need a massage?” he asked, showing off his thick fingers.

Tempting as it was, oh so tempting, I had to turn down the offer, lest I ended up making Caramel upset. The only thing worse than an insistent Caramel is a disappointed Caramel. “Need, yes, but now ain’t the time.”

“You sure?” He folded his arms when I nodded at him. “I’ve got a bag of clover in my shoulderbag, if you need to cool off.”

Again, tempting. “Keep it on standby for after I’ve worked my, ugh, magic. In the meantime, tell me more about Neighpon.”