Chapters Cock-a-doodle-do. Morning around the ol’ apple orchard. It was late in the summer, with autumn just around some sort of metaphorical corner. The signs were all there. A few leaves that had blown into the barn were already turning yellow, much to my happiness. I couldn’t wait for autumn.
In fact, as a memento towards my love for the season, I decided to pick up one of those leaves. I brushed through a few until I found the least broken one of the bunch. I held it up to high noon sunlight. It shined like a champion. Then, I tucked it into the brim of my cowboy hat, specifically the right side, allowing it to join the ranks of my other trinkets. I knew all of their positions by heart. A red hummingbird feather on the left, three pins on the front (each one from Babs, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo), and a gold chain I found on the table at a seafood restaurant one time wrapped up in the back, sitting comfortably on the brim. I like to pretend it belonged to Hay-Z at one point. Now I jingle whenever I walk.
With that done, I picked the bucket of apples back up (with one hand) and walked it into the barn. Big sister Applejack was already there, and despite the hot weather she’s still insisting on wearing her heavy plaid button-up. Then again, she got up before me, way early in the morning, so I guess baggy clothes were practical four hours ago. Anyway, she took the bucket from me with a cheery grunt and placed it with the others. They were all in a perfect stack.
“Now that’s the kind ’a organization our cozy lil’ corner of Ponyville is known for!” Applejack said, adjusting her ten-gallon, brushing her calloused hands off on her jeans and folding her arms. “We’re gonna rock this cider season like a hurricane.”
“In a wind turbine,” I add, raising my finger. “Which is also in a blender set to max.”
“Eh, more like medium. Don’t wanna be too vicious with the mixin’ process. Gotta let the barrels sit and ferment for a lil’ while.”
“I’ll write that down, big sis.” I was taking mental notes on how to brew a fine barrel of apple cider, as I gonna help with the actual brewing process this time around. Up until now, all I was allowed to do, thanks to a certain bitch named ‘Your best interests’, was serve the cider and push around barrels, after all of that hard work collecting apples. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the hard labor, but I still wanted a better reward than satisfaction alone, or at least more involvement in the creation of this fine beverage. This year, my time had finally come.
“I’ve made up a few preliminary batches of cider, y’know, just to test the waters, so to speak. Won’t be our absolute best but it’ll still be one of our finer years. I think that’s cause for an early celebration.” Applejack reached behind a nearby hay bale. I leaned in close to her, eagerly awaiting a welcome surprise. “Tada!” she exclaimed, presenting a six pack of cider bottles.
She took one out of the box and tossed it to me, and I was so shocked I almost dropped the darn thing. “Woah, hey!” It bounced off my hands a few times before I finally secured a good grip on it. “Y-Yer serious?”
Applejack sat down on the hay bale, and as per usual she sat like a dude, legs spread wide and her back hunched. “Well, I figured that ya’ve been old enough for a while now… Not like yer gettin’ any younger. Go ahead, bottoms up.”
I snort as I uncap the bottle. “More like tear up, yer gettin’ all misty-eyed up in there.”
“Ain’t so!” Applejack said, unconvincingly turning away to wipe her eye. “Also, it’s real dusty in here, and if you say any word to the contrary I’ma smack ya upside the head like it was mah seventeenth birthday and ya stole my slice a’ ice cream cake.”
“Bitch, it was yer second slice,” I said with a chuckle. Applejack returned it in full, and we both took a swig of the cider. “Ah, that’s good. What year is this one?”
“Last year’s. Almost forgot it was lyin’ around until about five minutes ago.”
“Yeah, speaking a’ dusty…” I said, wiping the bottle until some of its shine came back. “Still, tastes like I expected it to. Heavenly.”
Applejack shot me an accusatory glare. “Ya only expect it to taste that way ‘cause you’ve drank it before behind mah back even while you were underage.”
I shot her a defensive glare in response. “I most certainly…” But I couldn’t keep it up for long, not around her. Especially not around her. “...did. Gonna retroactively punish me for that?”
Applejack waved her arm and leaned back, taking another drink. “Nah, I ain’t gonna pretend I’m a saint. Damage is done. Didja ever get wasted?”
I took a sip as well. “Dinner at Auntie Orange’s could have been very awkward.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow at me. “‘Scuse me?”
I quickly took my lips off of the bottle. “Okay, even more awkward.”
“Yeah… She still hasn’t found her pantyhose. That poor lobster.” Applejack sighed and leaned back again. She took her hat off, set it down, and used the loose part of her shirt to wipe her cheek. “Jeezy petes, I’m sweatin’ like a Saddle Arabian night worker. Mind if I cool off a little?” she asked.
“Go ahead.” I’ve long since understood what ‘cool off’ has come to mean in recent times. Turned out that Applejack ain’t as uptight as I lead myself to believe. Which was fine by me, but it was still a bit of a shocker that she managed to keep up such a hard exterior for all these years. I definitely found myself preferring this ‘cool’ side of her.
AJ fanned herself a bit with her hat before reaching down to the top of her shirt, unbuttoning it, pulling it off and letting it down to the ground behind her. She then grabbed the hem of her tank top and pulled the thing right off, exposing her naked torso to the air around her. I took a look around with a smirk, wondering if somepony was around to see the whole thing. Heck, with the summer sun reflecting off of her sweaty self, she was hot enough to drop a colt-chasin’ stallion if you asked me; too bad nopony was around, though. Would’ve been hilarious, seeing somepony go splat at the sight.
“Now what’re you gigglin’ about, Bloom?”
Once again, I found myself a little envious. If it weren’t for AJ’s sizeable rack and braids, I wouldn’t be able to tell she was a mare from behind. Then again, a lot of my coltfriends said the same thing about me, so I was at least making some progress. Whenever I had doubts about my appearance, though, I just remembered that I’m an Apple. I knew I was gorgeous. And so did lots of stallions.
Looooots of stallions.
“Bloom?” AJ asked as she continued to fan herself off. “Ya sure the heat ain’t gettin’ ya in the head? Yer blushin’ like a cherry there.” She took a gander at herself. “This ain’t makin’ ya uncomfortable, is it?”
“Wh- No, I was thinkin’ of somethin’ else.” I had to cover myself quick. “Scootaloo wrecked herself when filmin’ a skating video the other day, went stomach first into the tripod. Still makes me cringe.” I drained the rest of my apple cider, which was a bit of a mistake. Strong beverage like that makes lesser throats beg for mercy. I coughed a few times, then regained my composure. “Think I’m gonna go work on my carpentry portfolio.”
AJ leaned forward. “Oh yeah! How’s that goin’, by the way?”
Should I mention that I was being a filthy liar? I know, the irony, oh how could you, Bloom, you’re the sister of the most honest pony in Ponyville and warkity wark. Going off to work on my portfolio was, at the time, my usual excuse for pretty much anything other than talking to AJ. Not that I minded talking to her, it’s just that I used that excuse because, well… AJ had no idea that my portfolio was already finished.
That was irrelevant, though. I simply said to AJ, “It’s comin’ along. Think I need to get a few more commercial works in there before I send it off. Anyway, I’m out. don’t overheat while I’m gone.” I set my cider bottle next to the pack, turned on my heel, and sprinted off. “Later, sis!”
“Keep at it, girl! Those snobs down at the academy won’t know what hit them!”
AJ was right for the wrong reasons. Again, irrelevant.
So, as I strolled back to the farmhouse, I was left with a critical question: What was I to do with what was likely going to be the last hot day of the summer?
The answer came to me in the sound of a honking horn, followed by the sound of tires on the dirt softly muted by an outdated automobile engine. As the green truck came up over the dirt road, I knew exactly who was coming to visit.
The truck came to a stop beside the picket fence, which I lept over and ran around to the driver’s side. The door opened, revealing a familiar face. Yellow fur, a clean-cut brunette mane…
“Is that the greatest folk singer in the world?!” I exclaimed to Caramel.
Being the chill jokester that he was, Caramel took my compliment in stride, looking around as he stepped out of the truck. “Where? That son of a bitch owes me money.”
He always did put a grin on my face. I figured he wasn’t just here for a friendly visit, though, and I raised an eyebrow at him and folded my arms. “Wouldn’t be the first time ya lost a bet to yourself, hotshot.”
“I’m gettin’ better at it, though.” Caramel shrugged at me, putting on his best smile. He wasn’t half-bad lookin’ today, either, wearing a clean cut pair of slacks and a green polo that surprisingly wasn’t covered in sweat and lipstick from groupies. Not to mention loafers that really didn’t belong on a dirt road. “So, Hayseed, what are you up to today?”
“Uh, workin’ on my portfolio?” I said again. I was unprepared to lie for the second time in a row, and Caramel didn’t have the burden of nepotism like my sister did. He was able to look right through me. So I put on a defeated frown and leaned against the truck, tracing a sad face into the dirty window. “I was gonna head down to the lake, strip down to my bikini, lie in a hammock, smoke a joint and eat grapes for four hours.”
I looked back and saw Caramel just raising his eyebrow at me.
“What?”
And there was that demonic smirk. “Nothing, just wasn’t expecting you to stop at just lazing around. I’m still waiting on the part where you have five well-endowed stallions at your beck and call.”
“Hey now, that’s for after I become an awesome carpenter.” I flashed a smile back at him, rolling my eyes.
“And they’re all gonna be named Bicep, I’m guessing?”
“Still decidin’ between Trouser Storm an’ Slim Sexy.”
He chuckled a bit at that, and I couldn’t help but join in on it. Caramel may be a bit off-kilter sometimes, but he’s a good guy. Besides, five stallions catering to my every whim? Please, I’d rather have ten.
“Wait, I got another one,” Caramel announced, holding his hands out. “Giant Bulge.” He curled one of those hands into a fist. “I request that you bump this.”
And so I did, because that was hilarious and I would hear no word to the contrary. “So, I’m guessing you came on by to do somethin’ other than discuss the questionable ways I like to spend an afternoon?”
“Actually, yeah. I was hoping to kidnap you for the afternoon.” Caramel tapped the hood of his truck. I think I heard the engine shift positions in there. “I have a few friends that could really use your talents.”
I rubbed my chin as I curled my lips, sounding out a little purr. “You gonna be my wingpony?”
“Not this time, kiddo. This is a chaste errand. And I’m not telling you what it is until you get in the car.”
“Sorry, but I don't get into someone else's ride unless they've got candy."
"I have grapes."
"Sold!" I ran around to the other side of the truck, yanked the door open and hopped in, snuggling into the seat. As worn out as the old beater was, the cushions were like a dream. It especially helped that, to counter the heat, the air conditioner was on full-blast. I opened the glove compartment, where I knew Carm kept his snacks, and found a bag of green grapes behind some old chip containers and an empty Fit bottle.
“Better for your teeth, anyway.” Carm rolled his eyes, got into the driver’s seat, closed his door, turned the keys, and revved up the engine. “Seatbelt,” he reminded me.
Even though I knew that old leather strap would make my stomach chafe, I did as Carm asked.
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.”
The interior of the cabin looked like it had just been in the middle of a tropical storm. On the edge of a cliff. Then got hit by a semi.
Funny thing is, I wasn’t all that far off. “Remember that heavy system a few weeks back? The one that everypony thought would hit Ponyville?” Creed asked. “The coast got the worst of it, and this is the end result. Well, some of it, anyway.” He bent down to the dislodged half of the door and picked up a waterlogged timeshare sheet. “Me and the boys, we trade off visits at this place every month or so during the spring and summer. It’s kind of a home away from home. You can see why this mess is a problem.”
“Well, hogar dulce hogar, ” said Caramel as he unsuccessfully tried to close the cupboard above the stove. It just kept opening whenever he shut it.
“Here, let me get that for ya,” I said. I grabbed the cupboard door and slammed it shut, only for it to bounce off and hit Caramel in the nose.
“Son of a bitch!” he moaned, grabbing his snout. Thankfully, nothing was damaged.
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, you ain’t gonna fix it by forcing it,” Creed said, patting my shoulder. “Best get your hammer and nails ready.”
“But I—” Before I could protest, Caramel took advantage of my hands being in the air and placed a hammer and a box of nails in each one. My look of self-concern quickly became one of deadpan misery. “Dammit, Carm. I’m not kiddin’ about the cowbell.”
“Come on, little lady. Everypony has an off day. Let’s get the motivation into your noggin!” I was caught in vice grip when Creed squeezed my cheeks between his palms, which easily dwarfed my head. He lifted me up a few inches off the ground and shook me around a little.
If it were anypony but him doing this, I would destroy them. I had been studying capoeira at the rec center. But I eventually found myself laughing along with Creed’s shenanigans, even as he set me down and turned me towards the broken shelves.
“It’s just a few hinges and boards,” he said. I felt the denim of his pants brush against my legs as he kneeled down. His warm, calloused fingers very gently cupped my arms. Even with the muscle definition that I had earned from years of working the fields, he still dominated me in sheer stature and brawn. And yet, as was the case with his voice, there was still this gentle nature to his touch, and I felt it resonate with me, making me relax instantly. It was like an entire morning of breathing exercises injected through the skin. “You can do it, Bloomer.”
“Right…” I muttered, my voice suddenly calm. My unease was replaced with a small spark of energy. “Right, I can do this,” I said as I looked at the shelves.
“Got everything you two need?” I heard Caramel say as he stepped over the wreckage of the door. “I’ll be out with the rest of the gang, making sure they don’t bite each other’s heads off.”
“Aw, where’s your sense of fun?” Creed asked.
“In Whitetail Woods with my truck’s shocks. Get workin’, you two!”
I considered it safe to speak after hearing Caramel’s shoes hit the sand. I leaned my head from side to side until a satisfying crack sounded out. I already felt like I did a few months back; focused and energetic, that’s a good combination.
The irony of the situation was that I was alone with Creed, a moment I had been awaiting eagerly for months now. I’ve lost an entire night's worth of sleep more than once thinking about him with only a few selfies and group shots to work with, an imagined tone of his voice whispering in my ear as I lit a few vanilla candles, put on some sappy R&B, closed my eyes and pretended my arms weren’t my own as I removed my blouse and stuck my wanting fingers down my I should really get to work now.
Speaking of magic fingers, I was able to sense the problem with the busted cupboard the instant I touched its underside. “Ah. The wood is all warped. It’s pushing the door away. But why does it swing open against its will…” I felt for the hinge. I pulled the door away to get a good look. Not only was a nail missing, but the hinge itself was bent downwards. “Well, by some miracle a tropical storm was able to unscrew one of these fellas.”
“Hurricane Screwdriver,” Creed said with a snicker. “Speaking of which…”
“Oh, right.” I pointed to the tool box sitting on the windowsill. “Just get me a flathead, I’ve already got the nails I need.”
While Creed got to getting me what I needed, I took the time to look around. Kinda regretted that in hindsight, since the place was more torn up than I figured it’d be. One of the cabinet doors had been ripped off and chucked towards one of the windows, sitting against the wall at the edge of the counter, and a few more doors were bent up or smashed pretty badly by the wind.
The table in the living room was tipped up and slammed into the wall, too, and that definitely put a frown on my face. Couldn’t see the wall very well behind it, so I had no idea what damage it did when it went full Bulk Biceps on the house. There was a chair that should have been in the living room sitting on its side in the kitchen, too. “Hey, uh, Creed? Jus’ what kinda storm came down here?’
“Wish I was there. Rainfall was pretty severe, but this house was built high up, so it didn’t get a mauling from the ocean.” Creed came back around to me, handing me the flathead I needed so I could work on the cabinet. “But that’s a good point... you think there’ll be water damage?”
“Warped wood. There’s already water damage.” I sighed and went to the cabinet, rolling the nail in my hand. Wasn’t gonna be too hard a fix. “Just open the door, tilt it up, slip the nail back into the hinge... and the hinge is bent down...” I tapped my chin, looking over the problem, before smirking and taking the screwdriver from Creed. Just stuck it into the hinge like a nail, pulled it like a lever, and wapow! “I am your savior.”
I felt Creed’s breath go over my ear as he leaned over my shoulder, checking out the fix. “Good as new... How’d you manage that?”
I tugged my denim down a little, just enough for Creed to get a tempting look at my hip, as well as my mark; an apple crossed with a simple hammer. “I’m a livin’ repair kit, hon.” I grinned at him as I slipped the nail into the fixed hinge and spun it in. “If you ain’t got the right tool, improvise. Good creed to live by.” I pulled my pants back up; it was fun giving him a little tease, but I didn’t wanna trip during my work.
Creed smirked and scoffed, shaking his head. I swore I saw a blush there. “Well, you do have an impressive, uh, skill set.”
Well, at least I got a pat on the back, even if it did shove me toward the cabinet a bit. Still, quick fixes put a smile on everypony’s face, including mine. It didn’t last long when I looked back at the rest of the workload, but hey, at least it was possible to fix... most of it. I rolled my shoulder and got to work on the rest of the cabinets, with my handy assistant Creed ready to help me out wherever he could.
I wiped beads of sweat from my breasts, belly and forehead as I opened the door. Being inside a busted, dusty cabin for just a few hours made the sun’s light feel a little harsh. I raised my arm to my forehead to shield the fierce rays.
Before my eyes adjusted to the light, I heard someone whistling further down the beach. I turned my head just as everything became a little more visible, realizing that the whistling was meant for me. And I was okay with that.
The whistler among the group of soldiers was a bronze pegasus with a white trim around his arms and legs. He had a lot of excess fur to go around, and his mane was long enough to cover his eyes. And yet, he could still get an eyeful of me, something I placed one hand on my hip and the other around my head for.
“Ya like what ya see, furball?” I asked loudly.
“There’s a lot to like if you catch my drift, farmgirl!” he retorted. He bounced in place a lot; not in a childish way, but in an aggressive, energetic sort of way. I was particularly impressed by his swimsuit; he was apparently a lot less conservative about himself, as his trunks were cropped at his hips.
“Well, keep lookin’,” I said, sarcastically gesturing to myself as I stepped towards him.
“Ponyville babes are a breed of heart, huh?” he said. He certainly was a forward one. “Let me tell ya, Creed has good taste.”
I nudged his shoulder, crossed my arms and batted my eyes. “As do ya, good sir.”
This upbeat fellow was unphased by my counter-flirting, like his mind was moving as fast as his heart rate apparently was. “Hope he doesn’t mind me taking a look at your pretty self, then,” he said. Even up close, I still couldn’t see his eyes through all of that mane.
“I don’t, Skipper,” said Creed. I tilted my head and saw him approaching, quickly turning back as I realized that this pegasus was the ‘energetic little bastard’ he referred to earlier. I couldn’t believe I didn’t make the connection sooner. “I see you’re already getting familiar with my good friend Apple Bloom.”
“A little.”
“A little.” Creed nodded, glancing between me and Fuzzy. “Well, here’s a little introduction for you. Bloomer, did you know that Skipper was stationed in Saddle Arabia for two years?” He patted Skipper on the back and walked away, shooting me a wink.
“No shit?” I asked Creed, before realizing I should’ve directed the question towards Skipper. “Was there some sort of conflict over there? I don’t watch the news.”
“Nah, just a diplomatic mission that eventually devolved into a vacation.” He gave me a shrug and a smile, placing his hands behind him and clasped them together.
“I smell a story behind that.” I couldn’t help but smile as I saw a bright grin pop onto his face like a foal on Hearth’s Warming Day.
“Oh, there is! I’d say take a seat, but, uh...” He gestured to the sand below us, shaking his head. “Probably best if we didn’t. Right! Once upon a time, there was a dashing stallion serving Princess Celestia’s royal guard, Equestria save her. This stallion was a bit of a big sort with a really thick coat, so the leadership thought it’d be funny to send him off to one of the hottest regions on the planet. Not being the type to disobey orders, he accepted, though it wouldn’t be too improper to say some grumbling was done.”
He started pacing in front of me as he carried on with the story, posing like a drill sergeant describing his stories about war and bravery. His voice was powerful, too, though a bit too exaggerated to keep it from being silly.
“He was shipped out not a week later, and came to Saddle Arabia by ship after four days braving the seas and their choppy waves! He fought storms, blizzards, and hydra attacks to see his crew to safety!”
White Knuckles, who was just behind Skipper, rolled his eyes as I covered up my growing smile with a hand. ‘That didn’t happen,’ he mouthed.
Skipper continued. “And once he reached the sands of the great desert nation that Equestria had grown close to, and the beauty of the sands stretching on for miles, he had one thing to say...”
“‘Oh my damn, it’s hot’?” I chimed in.
“Bingo, dear listener. Anyway, luckily he and his entourage arrived in a pretty well-air conditioned city right off the boat. The brave soldier’s destination was a town closer to the capital, where some VIPs would be staying for negotiations with a local governor. He was on guard detail, but had some time to spare. Seeing all the exotic ponies around, their interesting culture seeped into his senses through the bright colors, the sandstone buildings, the delicious scents of food and perfume...”
“And the mares.”
“And the mares.”
“Figured,” I said with a chuckle.
“One has not experienced life before seeing a mare from another country. Their looks, their accents, their... fumeur corps chauds , were a sight to behold. Our hero had the privilege of staying at a nearby hotel featuring many waiting staff of, shall we say, angelic qualities. Their dress fit the figure and form like they were chiseled from marble by a great artisan, and provided many quality services for the entourage. As for the soldier with the ‘misfortune’ of being given guard duty in the country, he had other wishes to fulfill. There was time to burn, and the trip would not be that long, so he stood proud, thrust out his chest, and totally hit that.”
“By thrustin’ out his chest too far and hittin’ a poor mare?” I stuck my tongue out at Skipper.
Skipper dropped his dramatic pose and looked at me like Applejack would look at a pig outside of its pen; like I didn’t know my place. “That’s it. Arena. Now.” He pointed behind himself to a spot further down the shore.
I assumed that by ‘arena’ he meant ‘a circle traced in the sand.’ There, I saw a few more guards gathering around as Creed and White Knuckles stood face to face, their arms up and their legs bent as they stared each other down.
“What do you fellas learn in your unit?” I asked Skipper.
“Krav maga and karate,” he said.
“Are you kiddin’ me? I expected somethin’ more advanced than that.”
Skipper laughed like I had just dropped the best punchline of the year. “You jest now, farmgirl. Watch and learn.”
Creed stepped forward and cast the first punch at White Knuckles, who grabbed his arm with both hands, stepped around him, caught his head in a deadlock, spun him around, lifted him up in the air, and let him fall. Creed’s arm was caught in White’s legs, leaving him defenseless when White tucked and rolled, pulling his arm up to his head. The round ended with a decisive strike on Creed’s neck.
“One to zero,” said White as he stepped away from Creed. “I think you lost your touch in Neighpon, dude. Care to prove me wrong?”
I wasn’t impressed. I tilted my head towards Skipper and said, “Creed’s a lover, not a fighter.” And I would make sure of that later.
“No one stands a chance against my bro White,” Skipper boasted. “Watch him go.”
Creed stood back up without showing any sign of pain. He got back into his fighting stance, this one a bit more aggressive and mobile. He dodged both of White’s punches, as well as a fierce kick. He grabbed White’s leg and rushed forward, bending it and forcing White into a fall. Creed finished the job by planting his hoof on White’s chest. “One to one, friend.”
White stopped messing around. He got back up with a leg sweep, which Creed stepped out of the way from. White started punching quickly, to the point where his arms became blurs against the sand and sea. Creed didn’t even have to block; he stood tall against every punch, even advancing towards White despite the barrage. He brought his fist around for a mighty punch, but White caught his fist. Creed’s eyes widened as White swung him around. When Creed got his bearings and turned to face his opponent, it was already too late. White slammed both of his fists into Creed’s chest, knocking him down.
“Yata,” White said humorlessly, brushing his hands together. “Look who’s the top dog, dawg.”
Creed just relaxed in the sand, placing his hands behind his head as he watched his fellow guards exchange coin purses. There were quite a few happy faces in that crowd. “Okay, who’s next?” he asked.
“Me against this blowhard!” I yelled just as Skipper raised his hand. “I’m gonna replace his teeth with sand!”
The guards went silent for a second, then started murmuring to each other.
“Ooh, feisty! But this ain’t a wrestlin’ league, Bloomer,” said White Knuckles, raising his fingers as he walked towards me. “Just stay cool and enjoy yourself. Helps keep the pain down when you’re not as tense.”
“Care to help me loosen up?” I asked with a wink.
White paused his walk for a second, then nodded. He stepped behind me and grabbed my shoulders. With an intense squeeze, he dug into my skin. It wasn’t a proper massage, more of a brief warm-up, but it helped me relax a little after spending a few hours staring at Creed and fixing wood. I felt better the instant his fingers struck muscle deep. I moaned a little for White’s enjoyment.
“Feelin’ groovy?” White asked.
“Groovy as I’ll ever be.” I patted White on the cheek. “Thanks, fella.”
“Knock ‘im dead,” he said, bumping my fist.
“I’ll try.”
White wasn’t laughing. “No, seriously, knock ‘im dead. Dude hasn’t left me alone all summer. He’s a walking riot.”
I looked over at Skipper, who had already jumped into the arena. Between long stretches that emphasized his athletic frame, feminine legs and tout ass, he raised his arms to pump up the crowd. “Skipper! Skipper! Skipper!” they all cheered, making me feel a lot less confident about my odds.
“Save me,” I squeaked.
“Need another massage?” White blurted out.
I shook my head, partially to say no, and also to snap out of my sudden funk. I remembered that this wasn’t some overpriced wrestling match with flashing cameras and spandex (though Skipper would look damn good in a singlet). It was just a bunch of shirtless dudes sweating it out as they laid into each other.
I pinched myself as I stepped into the ring.
Skipper was feisty even in his battle stance. Despite being in the same pose as White was, he was far more jumpy, as if standing still for a second would literally kill him. But that was the beauty of it; he couldn’t stand still for a second!
Besides, two could play at that game. I got into my battle stance, a default capoeira shuffle. My hooves tapped the ground in a circular motion, while my arms went in and out as I swayed from side to side. I kept low to the ground, so any punches he’d throw would be more choreographed. At least, I figured they would be. I was only a blue level student in capoeira.
As I predicted, Skipper made the first move. He charged at me, faked out to the side, then slid for me, intending on tripping me up. I quickly jumped over his attack, swept the ground, and spun my leg into the back of his head. For a skinnier guy, he didn’t go down as easily as I expected.
He landed two punches on my shoulders. I backed away from his third one, and while he cast it out, I leapt into the air, twirled around and brought my legs up to Skipper. I twisted them around his arm, bringing him down with me as I fell on my back. I breathed through the pain as I pulled on his arm.
“Tap! Tap!” he shouted as he patted his free hand against the sand.
A lot of the guards groaned in disappointment, followed by applause for my performance. “Nice moves, Bloomer!” I heard one of them yell. I was more focused on Creed, whose arms were folded as he nodded approvingly.
“What’s the matter? Senpai finally notice you?” Skipper snarked.
I was laughing on the inside, but through my smirk I let out a battle cry and lashed out at Skipper.
He caught my punch and whirled around it, spinning and grabbing my wrist with his left hand. I felt his hoof kick at the back of my knee, and before I knew it, I was eating sand, my arm behind my back and his hand against the back of my head.
“It’s probably good we didn’t officially start the second round.” He chuckled as he let me go, letting me get back to my hooves and rub my wrist. Guy had a strong grip.
“Just getting you warmed up, sugarcube.” We headed back to our sides of the circle, Skipper getting back into his hopping stance as he made a ‘bring it’ gesture with his hand. He asked, and he would receive. “Just don’t cry. You’ll stink up the place with your huge vagina. ”
Skipper grinned, putting up his fists. “Don’t poke the bear, Bloomer. The bear will poke you. Repeatedly.”
I swore I heard someone breathing heavily behind me. “That right?” I smirked as I lowered myself down, looking over his stance for weak spots. “Maybe provokin’ you’d be fun, then. I know a few spots that a mighty bear like you could poke.”
I grinned as I saw a flush show up on Skipper’s cheeks. Guess there was a way to make him front heavy. “Shut up and fight, Bloomer.”
“Aw, keep talking dirty!” I launched right at him, raising my fist. He flicked a hand up to block as I lunged in with a haymaker, feeling his palm hit my hand. He went into that takedown spin again, but he wasn’t expecting a kick straight to the backs of his knees. “Fool me once, honey!”
“Shame on you! ” He kept his grip strong and whirled around, taking me for a ride. And not the fun kind. I yelped as he used his lowered stance to rip into a spin, dragging me in by the wrist and grabbing my shoulder. He stood back up, flipping me up over him and probably made things worse with a pirouette or something girly.
“Ah, crud.” I flailed above him as he kept his grip strong on my shoulder and butt, walking to the center of the arena, at least I thought so from what I could see. The world flipped over as he tipped me forward. He planted me on my hooves and kicked the backs of my knees, not giving me any chance to support myself as he took both my wrists in his hand and yanked back. I felt him plant his shoulder against my back, pulling me into submission by forcing me on my calves and bending me over.
I gritted my teeth and moaned with effort, trying to break out of his grip, but it was just too much. He had me beat... but not in a bad way, I had to admit. I wished I could look around and see all the guards getting all hot and flustered over me, but I was kinda stuck with my head against his.
“Tap it out, filly, or things’ll get a lot more rough,” he cooed into my ear.
“Yer just sayin’ that to flatter me, aren’t ya?” I smirked, still struggling against him. All I had to do was break his grip on my wrists, then I could bend down and catapult him with a kick.
“Maybe. Can’t say it’s bad being this close to a mare like yourself,” he replied. I looked back to see Skipper’s grin behind my left shoulder. “Gotta say, though, you are hella flexible.”
“Just born with it. Now let go.”
He did as I requested. My cheek landed in the sand first. I quickly got up and dusted the sand out of my legs and face, then turned to face Skipper yet again. Over his shoulder, I saw Creed, who was looking a little more red in the face than usual. He was applauding politely for Skipper, but his eyes were fixed on me. I kissed in his direction.
I heard Skipper running my way. I assumed he was about to attack me, so I ducked. Lucky me, he struck forward, treating me to a view of his arm and clenched fist. I shot my leg up and kicked his wrist away, then tucked myself in for a roll. I tumbled backwards, planted my hands in the sand and kicked my hooves outward. I could feel the bruises forming in Skipper’s six-pack.
While the poor dumpling was stunned, I went for broke. I stood up, still not having looked Skipper in the eye for this entire round so far, and lept into a backflip. I immediately regretted it for the stomach cramps. Still, had to see it all the way through. I reached my arms out and grabbed Skipper’s shoulders, with my momentum bringing him down with me.
But then he caught himself, stopping his fall with one hand and planting the other on me, leaving me pinned to the ground, flat on my back. Just when I thought I had a trained soldier on the ropes with my intermediate knowledge of capoeira… Wait, why was I surprised about this at all?
More surprising was the mischievous set of fingers wrapped around my left breast, connected to the sweaty arm of a sweaty stallion lying about me. His toned legs were already brushing mine, parted above my lower regions, and I was sure there’d be a part of him that would be very enthusiastic about what he was doing to my body.
Frankly, I didn’t mind, because even though I had lost the match, this more than made up for it. Skipper, by all accounts, was very pretty, and the fact that he was blushing and sweating made him a hilarious sort of pretty.“Hey, Skips McGee,” I said with a smirk. “If ya throw the match, I won’t tell anypony back in Ponyville this happened.”
Skipper finally let go of my tit and retracted his arm. I expected him to shy away after that, but he just calmly stood up and reached his untainted hand out to me. “I’d rather just apologize, honestly.”
I was about to take his hand, as well as make a few more generous offers to him. I could sense something here, and I was sure he would be open to a tiebreaker. But I hadn’t forgotten my previous engagement, and Creed was a much more tempting aspiration. And after getting worked up something fierce, I could’ve used another massage.
Like a guardian angel, Creed showed up just in the nick of time. The fringe of his well-groomed coat was glowing in the sunlight. As such, the rest of his body was cast in shadow, giving him a dangerous vibe. So much power in such a gentle creature, and there he was, taking my hand and helping me up.
Before I was fully up on my hooves, Creed reached his other arm beneath me and lifted me off the ground. I was swept up in more ways than one, weirded out by being treated like some sort of princess. And yeah, I liked a little romance just as much as anypony, but this wasn’t just affection, this was a sweeping declaration. He was saying ‘Back off, fellas, this is my mare.’ I liked being claimed.
“Whatever ‘the word’ is,” Creed whispered to me as he took me away from the applauding soldiers, “this is me giving it to you right now.”
“Now? You want me now? ” I asked. At first I was beside myself, squeeing on the inside, but then I remembered that part of me that loved to tease. I fluttered my eyes at Creed, stroking his cheek as he stared at me with determination. “What spurred you on, big tall and handsome?”
“As far as I’m concerned, you can have all the fun you want with Skipper. After I’m done with you.” He said it like a driven warrior, but I could sense only the best of intentions behind it all. He had a sincere way of flirting.
But there was one thing that threw me off. “Uh, the bedrooms are back there,” I said, pointing over Creed’s shoulder. We were several yards away from the rest of the boys, and several more away from the cabin.
“Nuh-uh. I’m not waiting that long,” Creed said, nodding ahead of us. I looked where he was looking and saw a small opening between two thick patches of grass, marked by a fallen tree. “Besides, why would I keep you in a cramped room where I can’t see the sun reflect off of your beautiful figure?”
As I touched his chest, I felt a bead of his sweat roll onto my hand. “Creed, you complete me.”
Why couldn’t the grass at Sweet Apple Acres be this comfortable? Softer than the pillows back home under my butt, and it was so long you could make a bed out of the stuff. The warmth from the sun was really nice, too, but I had that back at the farm at least. But there was one thing that I didn’t have back there.
And he was standing right in front of me. His head leaned from side to side until a definitive crack echoed from his neck. For a tense second, I was afraid he’d give away our position.
He must have noticed my worry. He kneeled down and touched my cheek with one hand, the other brushing just above my breasts. “They won’t hear us. Listen to that ocean.” He held a hand to his ear, and just like that, the white noise of the crashing waves that I had tuned out hours ago became noticeable again. It was like being reminded of the fabric of my clothes; forgot it was even there. My concern was irrational… though now my bikini felt kinda itchy. At least it would be off in a second.
But in a refreshing turn of events, I wasn’t the one who made the first move. After stealing a kiss off of my lips, Creed stepped back.
“There a blast radius I should be worried ‘bout?” I asked with a sensual smirk.
Creed simply chuckled. “It’s not that impressive.”
“I’ll be the judge a’ that.” I pointed my finger at him, then pointed it downward. “Off.”
Creed smiled as he stuck his thumbs under the band of his shorts, half-lidding his eyes at me. wondered if manes could catch fire from smoldering stares of lust. “Yes ma’am.” My eyes went straight to the promised treasure to see as he tugged down on his shorts. I never thought a minotaur could be slow and sensual, but there he was.
Helloooo, rising sunshine.
Creed was obviously examining me for my reaction, and the way he chuckled made me think what I did was… expected. Like he had a focus group for his junk or something. I bit my lip and tightened my fists, cursing myself for not acting on my urges in the cabin, White Knuckles be damned. He could have watched for all I cared. Long story long, Creed’s dick was a national treasure.
Black as the darkest night, and slick as a new coat of motorcycle paint. Smooth where others would be wrinkled. Perfectly straight without a hint of a misdirection. Most impressive, though, was its size. Not that it was monstrous. In fact, I was pretty sure Caramel was bigger. But I was more invested in Creed’s size because it suited him. Not an inch too long or short, and it wasn’t too girthy either. Best of all, Creed didn’t even have to pose to make it look good on him.
After that overly long mental appraisal, Creed kicked his swim trunks away. “Perhaps you might want to show me something?” he asked quizzically.
I blinked, ear flicking as he said that to me. After a few more seconds of staring at that mastercrafted cock, I looked back up at him and smiled. “Well, I might have somethin’ for ya to gawk at...”
“Plenty. I'm sure it'll blow my mind.”
I raised an eyebrow at that, standing back up as I reached back with my hands and tossed out my mane, giving him a half-lidded stare. “I don’t already?” A grin settled on my face as I reached around behind my back, my bikini suddenly feeling a bit too tight. A quick grab and pull on the strings released the pressure, and I tossed the top off like an afterthought. I felt his eyes move down from my face, but I turned around too quick for him to get a good look in; besides, I had something way better for him to look at.
I tucked my thumbs under the strap for my bikini bottom and pulled, bending down and flicking my tail out of the way to show myself off better. A breeze blew through and I felt a chill rush up my spine from my crotch. I dunno when it happened, but my body opened a floodgate, I was sure of that from all that shiny lube starting to show on my thighs.
The next thing I knew was realizing just how long I’d been waiting, as Creed stepped forward and grabbed me around the belly, spun me around and shot in for a kiss. I felt his leg sneak in between mine as I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing as tight against him as I could, tight enough that I could feel every racing beat of his heart. One his arms kept me pressed against him as another moved down, his hand settling on my ass and giving it a rough squeeze.
“Mmph!” Hoo, that felt good, even better with how I was grinding against his thigh. That tower of muscle holding me so close barely moved, though, letting me wriggle and moan against him as much as I wanted. Couldn’t shove him over to get on top, which was kind of a bummer, but as he moved down to the grass, I didn’t really wanna take control.
He never broke his contact with him as he laid me out on the grass, the soft blades flattening out into the greatest bed I’ve ever laid on. And soon to be, ever gotten laid on. I opened my eyes slightly to look up at his face, my tongue wrestling against his as my legs wrapped around his back and our gazes met.
I was burning worse than AJ in heat, and Creed didn’t waste any time with lining up against me, rubbing the tip of his cock against me. I tugged hard against his back, trying to force him into me, just begging for a rough thrust, c’mon, Creed, don’t make me wait, don’t—
“Ah!” I broke the kiss and yelled out as he shoved into me, stretching me out just enough for a bit of pain to mix in with the mind-blowing pleasure of it all. I had him, and he had me, and I couldn’t’ve been happier. I panted as he started thrusting into me, dragging out every draw back before thundering back in. “Ohhhh...”
Creed just grinned as he lifted himself up slightly, eyes drifting down to watch my breasts bounce with each hard thrust he made, and the sight just drove him on harder. I was shaking all over from how pent-up I was, and I think he could tell just how bad I wanted it, making me huff and squeak - squeak - with every hump. “Someone’s been anxious...”
“C-Could say the same ‘bout you, buddy!” I panted out, grinning up at him. “Don’t tell me y’ didn’t like... seeing Skippy bend me over like that...”
“Couldn’t lie like that, e-even if I tried.” He snorted and slammed hard into me, ears perking as I screamed. It felt like time slowed down with that, like the world was letting my brain catch up with what my body was doing. My vision went blurry and pink, and it took a bit for Creed’s confused face to come back into focus. “Did that hurt? You clenched hard...”
“Haa... y’ think that’d hurt me?” I just smiled up at him as my hips rolled, his dick feeling nice and slippery in me. “Don’tcha know what a mare’s orgasm feels like?”
He just blinked at me again, starting up the thrusting as he gritted his teeth. “That fast?”
“You ain’t the only one who’s been waiting for this...” I pulled myself back up and kissed him again, forcing my tongue into his mouth. I found it kinda weird how that was the only place that didn’t feel like an iron wall, but it kinda made sense; he was always kind of a pushover with that voice of his. “Mmm...”
But every other part of him was as aggressive as a dragon. I felt my ass get picked up off the ground on those thrusts, his legs shifting forward a bit so he could take me better. His breath shooting out through his nose in heavy snorts, with me crushing down on him as hard as I could with my vag... it was Nirvana, no better way to describe it.
“Okay, okay…” I pressed my hand to his chest once again. “D-Don’t run me ragged just yet, fuck…” I planted my hooves in the grass and scooted away. Creed got the hint and pulled himself out of me. I exhaled a breath I didn’t even know I was holding and pined for his cock’s absence. How I longed for it. But I had to savor the moment. I pointed upwards. “On yer knees. Let’s make up for the gap.”
“Gap?” Creed asked as he did as he was told. Good boy. His cock, which looked delectable with my juices coating it, stood proud before me.
“Sex ain’t a competition, but…” I, by some miracle, got on my hands and knees without collapsing, and crawled up to Creed. I beheld his dick in my hands, rubbing its underside and lightly cupping his sack. “You know I’m way farther along than y’are, know what I mean?”
“Oh, right.” Creed nodded. “Head’s in the clouds here.”
“Eh, y’ain’t alone.” I kissed the tip of his dick, causing it to throb. “Now, let’s see how ya taste.” I was curious to feel his meat on my tongue, but I also wanted to see if I could make this mighty fella squirm. Even more than that, I had a new trick I figured he might be interested in. But first, an old classic.
I folded my arms beneath my breasts, propping them up for Creed to see. I looked up at him for his approving gaze, and as he gave it, his cock hardened a little more. It seemed he would never tire of seeing my precious apples.
His cock settled in the crevice of my cleavage. I re-positioned my hands, then pushed my breasts forward and wrapped them around his length, leaving only the head and base exposed. The rest was snug within my mounds, being assaulted with warmth and sweat. The sweat would be decent enough lube to make his cock's stay within the embrace of my tits all the more pleasurable.
What worked for me when it came to giving Creed paizuri (that's what they call titfucking in Neighpon, apparently) was a mixture of the old standbys. While I rose up and fell in a slow and steady rhythm, I squeezed and released my breasts around Creed's cock, pumping him up from the bottom to the top.
I found myself scooting closer to Creed as my breasts held his dick close to my heart. His balls lightly tapped against my chest every time I rose up. I cherished the brief contact I had with all of this glorious phallus.
I heard Creed clear his throat, though he was just covering up a gasp. "Your breasts are..." He pondered what to say. "Hm. What can I say that hasn't been said before?"
"Y'can't, hon," I said, kissing his cock again. "But I know whatcha thinkin', and I appreciate it."
Creed lightly shrugged. "You're welcome."
"In fact, I'm so grateful, I'm gonna reward ya with a new trick." I let go of my breasts and let them fall back to where they belonged. Creed's dick was fully exposed, allowing me to play nice with it. Specifically, with my mouth.
The beauty of a long and less girthy shaft such as Creed's was the unimpeded challenge of how far I could get it into my mouth. My vaginal fluids and sweat were wiped off his dick as my lips took in his length. I closed my eyes as my cheeks stretched out to take him in. I tasted salt and musk. It was beautiful.
“Watch the teeth there, kiddo,” Creed whispered.
“Mmmhmm…” I wanted to praise the feel, texture, warmth and comfort of his cock with my words, but I had to put my mouth to use in another way. I dove in even deeper, ignoring the friction of the bare parts of his cock on my lips. That’s when I realized that he hadn’t even entirely filled me up when he fucked me.
I looked down once the tip of his cock hit the back of my tongue, and I could see some of him still sticking out. It was totally dry, too. I didn’t pay much thought to just tasting what I had and working with that, furrowing my brow and pushing forward. Fortune favors the bold, and mares who can hold down gag reflexes. “Nghk...”
My eyes shut even tighter as my throat clenched. Creed’s cockhead moved down into me, gradually, and my mind raced. Mind over matter, mind over matter... Ohhh, he tastes good… It was like swallowing a pill. I just had to step way out of my comfort zone and let an unfamiliar object breach the recesses of my mouth.
“This is uncharted territory for this bull…” Creed said, folding his arms and spreading his legs a little further. Doing that freed up a little room for his cock and balls, allowing me to dive along the rest of his length and touch his base. I had it all inside of me, from my lips to my throat. I knew my nostrils would be burning after this. “What now?” asked the hunk attached to the dick in my mouth.
I couldn’t answer because, well… dick, but he would see soon enough. I was surprised he couldn’t figure it out. I summoned a bit of my voice from the deepest part of my throat, what little of it wasn’t taken up by a penis, and began to hum.
Creed’s expression remained content, except for his eyes, which widened very suddenly. It was like a teenager receiving his first blowjob all over again, but seeing it on a grown male’s face made it all the more endearing.
I was like a living fleshlight, with my throat serving as a vibrator against Creed’s meat. He was at a loss for words, so he just remained kneeling, his torso leaning back and his eyes going half-lidded. It was oddly comforting to have his hand touch my head, tousling my mane as made him shake.
And yet, I still couldn’t tell whether or not he was even remotely close to cumming. I was normally skilled in that department. A sudden blush, a lapse in breath, there would always be some sign that the guy was about to lose it. But not Creed. It was then that I realized just how much stamina I was putting up with here.
Then again, why didn’t I figure he’d be able to keep himself contained to begin with? A large bull employed in the royal guard who knew martial arts and yoga, and had gotten enough tail for me to be envious of. Of course he wasn’t about to blow his load into me so easily. But he made me cum already… I was doomed to fall behind to begin with.
I fell into a good rhythm. I would hum, causing Creed’s cock to vibrate inside the reaches of my throat, and once I ran out of breath I would inhale through my nostrils. The repeating cycle helped stifle the discomfort of having him so deep inside my throat, which wasn’t even all that plentiful to begin with.
Just when Creed started to blush, he patted the top of my head. “Okay, I’m good.”
He stepped back gently. I gagged a little as his medial ring escaped my throat, and found myself in a small coughing fit when the rest of his dick exited my mouth. I swore he was even more soaked in my saliva then he was in my vag juice.
“Now that was risky,” Creed said, wiping his brow.
“Says the royal guard biker street fighter,” I snipped.
“Even if I did have a lesser stamina pool, how could I make use of it when I’d be worried about you choking on me?” Creed offered a kind smile at that, scratching a bit behind my ear.
“Like ya’d have to worry ‘bout me, big guy. D’ya know who yer fucking?”
“Well, I know her name, and I may have heard stories in a few letters she sent me… Maybe I’ve seen her amazing carpentry.”
“Master-craftin’s her specialty, after all.” I smiled and moved up to his face, placing my hands on his chest. “‘Course, there’s other things to show off.”
Creed wrapped his arms around me, pulling me gently into his lap. It was still hard to not just mount him right there, but I wanted to give him a show. Once I spotted the tree behind him, which boasted a nice smooth spot on its trunk, I knew I had my stage.
Creed followed my gaze as I pointed over to it, raising his brow. I gave him a smooch on the cheek and whispered in his ear. “Sit down over there, bucko. Yer gonna see the best part of me.”
That got a twitch out of him, his cock tapping me on the belly. He slid out from under me and gave me a last kiss before standing up and walking over to the tree, taking hold of a branch to steady himself as he sat down in front of it. A low groan came out of him when he leaned back against the smooth spot, and a smile settled on his face as he beckoned me over to him.
I picked a winner of a spot, perfect for what was coming. I got up and, just to tease him a little, put my hands behind my back and pushed out my chest a little, swaying my hips as I walked over to him. Those eyes of his were locked on every part of me, and when I looked down at his pride, I couldn’t help but giggle a bit; it was standing so straight, I coulda sworn it was saluting me.
He reached up with his hands once I came close enough to him, but a quick spin and a brush of my tail against his face stalled him. “Ah, you ain’t takin’ over just yet...” He still took hold of my hips and guided me into his lap. Had to shift my legs as I turned around, but once I felt my hooves sitting next to his hips, and my rump rub up against his shaft, I let myself relax in the best seat in the house; a hot and moist one.
If there’s one thing I loved about doing it with the lights on, or the afternoon sun, it was presenting myself. I leaned forward and brushed my ass upwards along Creed. While I kept enough control, I was absolutely twitching at the thought of that big thing entering me from this position. Lying prone and letting somepony go to town was one thing, but to be on top, and in control… I couldn’t wait to feel Creed squirm.
Creed was eager to explore what I was presenting, stretching the fat of my ass with his fingers and thumbs. He didn’t remain in the safe zone for long, with his naughty thump slipping towards my moistened nethers. There was a bit of a forest of fur, but underneath all of that, he found my slit, which he spread open.
My lip started to tremble. “Oh fuck…” I gasped in anticipation. My body started to lower, and my vulva found its way around Creed’s dick. I fell onto him. “Oh fuck! ” I crushed back down on him and leaned up, his arms wrapping around me. One got around my belly, keeping me close, while his other hand found my breast, and if his groping wasn’t some of the best in the world, I’d be shocked. I’m glad he chose to squeeze my left breast; it was slightly bigger than my right.
I heard him chuckle about something, probably how red my face was getting, but I didn’t care. I reached back with an arm and wrapped it around the back of his head, pulling him down into my neck. I almost lost control there for a sec, but once I started sliding my hips along him, massaging that incredible cock in me, the beast was tamed. “S-Shoot, you were holdin’ back on the grass, weren’t you?”
“Mmph...” He squeezed my breast a little harder, stealing a gasp from me. “Maybe... didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me? Honey, it hurts knowin’ you didn’t stuff me full the first time around!” My tail twitched and tried getting around Creed, but with his back against the wall, all it could do was bat uselessly against the tree; that thing had a mind of its own, and it was one heck of a cuddler. The sound of it hitting the tree mixing with the sound of Creed sliding in and out of me, and his rumbling breaths and snorts against my neck, it was like fighting a super-horny dragon. But enough about spring cleaning with Spike.
A scream caught in my throat, sounding like another gag. My hips slid backward, with my ass pushing especially hard against Creed’s crotch. I knew another orgasm was about to catch me by surprise, and I wanted him to feel all of me when it hit. So I pressed my back against him, reached up with my arm, and used his neck as a support, my muzzle nearly touching the underside of his.
And then he licked me, from my cheek to my ear. Bull tongue, heheh. Its roughness traced around my ear, causing me to squirm, which only allowed my nethers to further feel his cock, clasping around him like a predator having caught its prey. Another rush of lube burst from me and coated his shaft all the way down to his ballsack.
I shuddered, exhaled, and laughed, pausing my grinding, though Creed didn’t stop in the slightest. I smiled up at him. “I came. Heh.”
“Want to take a breather?” Creed asked, only now slowing down.
“Not on your life,” I boasted. “Two in a row? C’mon, that’s child’s play.”
“Child’s play, huh? Why are we just messing around, then?” He turned my head, forcing me to face him head on. “On your front.”
I would have done as he said, but I should have known that he’d play rough. Although he caught me off guard by standing up, clutching my shoulders tight and laying me flat on my stomach along the comfortable grass, I liked it. Saved me the trouble of doing most of the work after my last orgasm; my pussy was still dripping marecum. Sorry, grass.
Creed brought his muzzle intimately close to my back, inhaling my scent. I’ve gotten used to the apple and hay smell that’s been engraved into my skin, but to Creed, I was an entirely new flavor. I thanked Celestia he didn’t have a nose ring, as having his nostrils graze my body made my twice-rent nethers quiver.
It was a whole other kind of experience being pinned down under a bull. All it took was a hand to press me down against the grass, the other placing itself between my legs as he lined himself up. “D-Don’t think I could take both your dick and a finger, Creed...”
“It’s not going in, calm down.” He leaned up and took my ear between his teeth, nibbling on it as he pushed in. The world melted around me as he filled me up, not bothering to hold back this time around, and the ear nibbling sent really nice trembles down through me. Not to mention his middle finger circling around my clit, making everything so much more intense. I didn’t care if I was being squashed under a bull ready to fuck me a new one; he was a big, heavy blanket over a cloud-soft bed of grass, and thankfully, it wasn’t a vibrator going into me today.
“Ngh!” I squeaked as he shoved into me, hilting himself before going into that same, smooth rhythm from before. I closed my eyes, moaning as he thumped into me over and over, his dick gliding in and out and stretching me so nicely. My rump buzzed as his hips slapped into it. My legs shuddered from his weight. Even my eyelids didn’t want to go back up. If sex was music, then Creed knew my favorite song.
And in the middle of our melody, Creed halted the band. I groaned as I pressed my cheek against the grass. “What is it?” I asked.
Creed was looking over his shoulder. "Did you hear someone breathing?"
"Big guy, I'm pantin' over here. Are you gonna or not?"
Creed shrugged and took ahold of my hips. "I'm gonna, don't worry."
I was howling like a she-wolf the moment his cock pushed back into me and his balls slapped against my vulva. “Ah! There you go!” I cried out. “F-Fuck!”
“Easy, girl,” Creed whispered, this time in a far more comforting, less husky tone. One of his hands left my hip and reached around me. As he did, his chest collided with my back. It was like a puzzle piece snapping into place. Then, Creed wrapped his fingers around my hand. “You don’t need to cry out.”
Suddenly, his fucking became… different. He didn’t let up in the slightest, make no mistake, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a little closer to me. And here I thought that having him inside of me was as close as he could get, but I’ve been proven wrong before.
If I was in bliss before, this was something I didn’t have a name for. I held on for longer this time. Creed’s sudden act of tenderness caused me to have a paradigm shift of my own; I was no longer focused on his dick or the ecstasy or his hot body. I was focused on him.
It was only then that I realized how selfish I was being this whole time. Why was I so preoccupied with lust that I couldn’t see how amazing Creed was as a person? I saw some of it beforehand, but only after finally getting what I wanted did I realize how good it felt to know him. A creature of stature and cleverness.
But being a wicked lover never hurt, and boy, did he make me sweat. The heat alone was making my vision go hazy, but his body gave me a wall to lean on, and his hand was an anchor to hold on to. I just drifted off on the waves of pleasure rushing up through me, Creed nuzzling and nibbling my ear to add in just a little hint of closeness.
Creed whispered once again to me. "This doesn't have to end until you say it does."
"A-And how does... does that work...?" I was lost in both pleasure and confusion as to how he could dictate how long this would go for. Even the most composed and enduring stallion has to lose his spunk at some point. At least, that’s what I thought, but apparently Creed had yet another trick up his sleeve.
"I'll be able to hold it in as long as I need to. Trust me, years of practicing meditation does wonders..." He flashed a grin as he ran his thick fingers through my hair. "But if you want me to... well..."
I growled as he pulled on the end of my mane. "Cum inside me, you fucking beast...?"
Creed grunted in response. "Well, yes. If you want that to happen, just say my name."
Oh, I’d gotten these types before… Not that I could blame the big guy for getting off on hearing someone cry out for him. Hell, even I would get a little bonkers from somepony saying the name of the pretty farmgirl riding them wild. I’m talking about me, of course. But this isn’t about me. It was always Creed, and his indomitable spirit, raw sexual charisma, and how good he made me feel; on my insides and in my heart.
In a way, I didn’t want it to end. But I didn’t want to grow complacent, and the whole intimate experience just wouldn’t have been complete without having him fill me up with his, well, essence. I wanted all of him, and that included his semen.
It was with a heavy heart that I cupped his cheek in my palm, craned my neck, and whispered in his ear, “Cum for me, Creed. Drench me. Make me pour out for you, Creed.”
I heard his breaths become a lot heavier. It really did spur him on. He didn’t lose any of his force as his hips picked up the pace. My insides were burning from the friction, but in the best possible way.
Creed kept holding onto my hand, but he took his other hand off of my hair and brought it around my stomach. He turned over onto his side, taking me with him. He had amazing control over himself, being able to keep fucking me while moving his whole self.
I kept talking. I wanted him to finish so bad. I needed this. “Fuck me, Creed…” I said without subtlety. “Fucking cum inside me.”
Creed licked my neck, clasped my breast, and said to me, “As you wish, Bloomer.”
A mutual orgasm is something I would put on my top ten of the best possible things in the world, next to apple fritters and rain on a sleepy morning. How fitting that someone as amazing as Creed would treat me to one of my favorite things. Not apple fritters, of course, but absolutely perfect timing in a climax, delivering that final, decisive thrust just as my walls clamped down upon him and my body surged.
And like pressing a finger to a faucet, he went off in me. With every press of my pussy against his cock, his cum would push it right back out, forcing my orgasm up higher and higher. I pressed back up against him as I heard myself squealing in ecstasy; it was all hollow and distant in my head. Like hearing somepony cum from across a field, and being there to feel every surge at the same time. How could anypony, bull or not, make an orgasm feel this great?
But that was the miracle, wasn’t it? I woke up this morning thinking it would just be a normal, boring day. I would have flaked out by the pond in one of my older bikinis eating whatever decadent sweets I could’ve gotten from the fridge. I would have watched the sun rise and fall without any influence on the world it illuminated. I would have probably cranked one out to the fantasy of three naked stallions having a chance encounter with me. And then I would have gone to bed without any thought towards my future.
Yet here I was, having my existential crisis washed away as the bull of my dreams made me his. What a day...The bull who made me enjoy carpentry again. The bull who believed in me. The bull who listened to me. The bull that made me want him. The bull who made me cum three times to his one.
Somewhere between my orgasm and coming out of my haze, Creed had presented a bag of clover. As I lay in his lap, he passed me a blunt, which I let sit lazily in my mouth as the comforting steam of it filled my nostrils.
Creed was something else. Lots of ponies are something, but this bull was something else.
“No, Apple Bloom,” he said to me, making me realize that I was thinking out loud again. “You’re something else. You just didn’t realize it.”
I smiled as I took the blunt out of my mouth to blow some steam. “Creed, you complete me.”
“I know. You said that already,” he said, returning the smile.
“Just making sure you heard.”
“I got it.”
We had most of the light damage fixed up in a jiffy, with only a few more warped wooden panels to deal with, as well as putting some objects back where they belonged. After I framed and hung a picture of last year’s Wonderbolt squadron, I worked with Creed to tip the table back over. It felt like it was made of lead when I tried doing it myself.
He got it back up on its legs, and the thud that thing made was near enough to knock me on my rear. “It’s like a freakin’ pool table! What’s this thing made of?!”
“Built for strength, so it’s some pretty dense redwood. Heavy, but it was meant to not get shoved around if something happened.” Creed looked up at the wall, and I followed suit. Pretty sure we grimaced at the same time when we saw all the cracks. “Can’t say it was worth the weight...”
I covered my face and went back to the tool kit. “Yeeeeeah. Nothing I can do about that, I ain’t no construction worker.”
For some reason, Creed saw fit to put his hand on my shoulder. With the past two hours having swept right by, I hadn’t realized how tense I was. His rough fingertips dug into my muscle and released the tension in an instant. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Mmm… Who said I was?” I leaned into his touch.
“We’re here to fix up what we can. I’ll see if I can get some pros in later to fix the wall damage. In the meantime…” He looked towards the living room window, which was right above the torn-to-shit couch.
“How’re the windows not broken?” I asked.
“We got those repaired yesterday. Skipper called in a favor.”
I couldn’t think of a familiar name. “Skipper? He one of the guards on vacation?”
“Yep. He’s an energetic little bastard, but his spirit is kinda infectious. If you need a guy to hop parties with, he’s your… Huh.” Creed walked over to the window’s adjacent curtains. They were almost as torn up as the couch. “I thought they’d replaced these. Guess the favor stopped at windows… Oh well. Nothing I can’t fix.” He pointed to the tool box. “There’s a needle and some stitches at the bottom.”
“Wait, you…” I reached into the toolbox and fiddled around in there until my hand wrapped around the bag of needles. “You do that sort of stuff?” I asked as I tossed Creed the bag, as well as a roll of stitches.
“Stitching, knitting, crocheting, all that stuff. Helps me keep calm and collected, even in the worst of times.” He sat down on the couch and stuck the needle into the curtain. Just like that, his massive hands became blurs before my eyes. “I’ve always been… different. My attention span was always short. Even in my later school years, somehow, something else would always get my attention. So, I decided to get help. Signed on with a crafts group, found my muse, and I haven’t looked back.”
He never struck me as the attention deficit type, but I suppose we all have our inevitable shortcomings. Celestia knew I had more than a few at the time. “Well, a keen eye can help when you’re creating stuff.”
Creed didn’t reply for a few seconds. I figured he wanted to finish one of the ripped patches on the curtain, but then he looked up and said, “Huh? You say something?” with a thick grin.
“Oh, you…” I nudged him in his massive bicep. Although my hand stayed there for a bit. He went back to his stitching after a nudge back against me, and, since he was busy... I looked off to the wall behind him and just let my hand do its own thing. His stitching was really smooth, from what I could tell from his arm’s quick yet seamless rotations. A continuous motion of tension and relaxation. My hand followed his flexing up towards the shoulder. “All those years of work paid off, huh?”
All of my fondling, and he didn’t seem to mind… I liked this one. I liked him a lot. “Well, I didn’t get this buff through arts and crafts. I wanted to steady my heart rate, so I started exercising. Once I lost some weight and put some meat on my bones, I signed on with the royal guard to get stronger, as well as rake in some extra cash. And helping people, that’s always a plus.”
“How much do you bench?” I asked, my hand involuntarily squeezing his shoulder. His muscles were hard as steel. Coated in platinum.
“About three hundred for twenty reps. Three twenty five if I have a good lunch.”
I bit down on my lower lip so hard I was afraid I’d go full vampony.
“Ah, but the real fun part is working out naked. You have no idea how liberating it is to have your whole self getting worked to the brink without stupid clothes clinging to you all the time.”
Yeah, I bet it was fun. Hanging out in the gym, just in a pair of track pants and nothing else. Everypony stuck staring at him as he walked over to the weights, taking the two heavy ones into his strong hands. Flexing with those wouldn’t be anything to him... could bench press a mare and set her back down without even breaking a sweat if he wanted to. Super strong, but as gentle as a breeze. Now that’s an adonis.
All the mares in the room put their exercises on pause. They walked over and watched him put the weights at his mercy, every muscle flexing under his glistening skin. Oh, they’d all be shakin’ in their yoga pants harder than the cows with a snake nearby. Assuming a cow would ever wear yoga pants, but that’s neither here nor there.
Now, I put myself among the mares who have lined up to get lifted. Probably in my cargo shorts and a loose tank top. I imagined him picking me up, light as a feather to his might. Completely at his mercy. But I wasn’t afraid, not in the slightest. I relished the smell of his sweat as he made use of me. He could have done whatever he wanted.
My imagination took me and Creed a step further. The room emptied out, except for me and him. There was some purple lighting and jazz music playing, though why it was playing in a gym was beyond me. Creed sat up on the bench, looking at me with his zen eyes. His hands trailed down his shining figure, his fingers closing around the trim of his track pants. He started to pull them off “Hey, Bloomer.”
I was still squeezing Creed’s arm. I immediately relinquished my grip and closed my hands around each other. “What’s up?” I asked him.
“Done with this one,” he said, lifting up the curtain to show that he has successfully stitched up the majority of it. It looked presentable now, aside from a few rough patches. “I think I’ll do the other one later.”
“Right, do the thing… later.” I was dumbstruck. A complete slobbering idiot. I needed a distraction. “Hey, what’s that?” I asked, pointing in the general direction of the kitchen.
Creed followed the path of my finger. “Huh? I do believe that is a fridge.”
“It’s a fridge in need of work!” Took that distraction by the reins and rode it all the way home, guessing from how I ran over to it. Sheesh, that fantasy threw me for a loop. “Let’s see, uh... um. I could paint it!”
“Paint a fridge.”
“Yup.”
I was hoping he was staring at my boobs with those eyes, because he himself had found a distraction. Or he didn’t believe me. “It’d look nicer in a yellow color.”
“Alright, fair enough... Which section?”
“Huh?”
Creed gestured to the fridge with a hand. “That fridge is split into two sections. One’s used by us, and the other by the Wonderbolts.”
“The Wonderbolts stay here?” I took another look around the house on instinct, grimacing. Maybe there were a few other things I could fix up before I headed out...
“The Wonderbolts use these cabins in case they need to make an emergency landing. There’s enough food and supplies to keep themselves fixed up. And, in case they need a rescue, they can signal home base with a beacon.” Creed pointed to a (currently non-operational) keypad on the kitchen wall. “We’re bringing in a magitechnician to fix that tomorrow.”
“So, I should expect a lot of canned food?” I asked as I stepped towards the fridge.
“Rations for the Wonderbolts, fresh stuff for the vacationing soldiers. Doubt the fridge was restocked after the storm, though, so you might wanna look out for that.”
“Fridge-based stink bomb, gotcha.” I opened both of the fridge doors, and it was just as bad as I expected. “Gah-hagh. Wow.” I didn’t even bother to look at what had gone bad, though I was pretty sure it was everything. “I think you’d be better off getting a new fridge.”
“Silly. Let’s just take it all out.” Creed went past me, reached into the fridge and pulled out several cans, along with some bags of expired potatoes, celery… Oh, the poor apples! “Yep, this is carnage of the culinary sort,” he said. “Though I think this is the worst of the damage. Give me some time with the rest of that fridge and I can make us a mean stir fry. I just hope the Wonderbolts haven’t eaten my rice.”
“A single tupperware box of rice wouldn’t feed the entirety of the Wonderbolts,” I snarked. “And why would they?”
Creed grabbed his rice and stepped aside, gesturing to the fridge. “Notice how there are two doors. Two doors for two groups of ponies.”
“The Wonderbolts and royal guard, respectively,” I assumed.
“Exactly. So you can understand that it’s a pain when one group takes the food of another when it’s left behind for next visit. What if a crashed Wonderbolt needed that chow for their survival?”
“One chocolate bar can be the difference between life and death.”
Creed raises his brow. “Oh, you refrigerate your chocolate too?”
“Yeah, I prefer the flavor when it’s cold. Anyway, I think I get the problem. And I was sorta kiddin’ about the whole paintin’ thing, but I seriously think we should label these doors.”
“I have some spray paint packed up on my bike.” Creed went to the door. “Back in a flash. Don’t go anywhere.”
Creed left through the front door, during which time I held my breath. I expected the door to break, just after I spent an hour or so using my wood glue to put the damn thing back together. I never knew a winter storm could figure out how to karate chop. I let my breath out when the door shut without a hitch.
Oh please. I repaired the door, so of course it would work perfectly! Ha ha!
I bopped myself on the head before I could let my relief and pride get the best of me, then looked through the kitchen drawers that I didn’t have to repair. Most of them were empty, aside from a few pens, as well as the obvious contents of the silverware drawer. Then I found a drawer full of old documents. I figured they were bills or something of the like. They would do the trick just fine, assuming I could find some… Ah! Scissors! Just behind the documents.
It was time to put my grade school crafts skills to work. “Just watch me, Miss Cheerilee.” I pulled out two pieces of paper that didn’t look important enough to put me behind bars, and brought them over to the table. Just had to cut out a lightning bolt for one door on the fridge, and a sun for the other, and with some quick cuts...
I had a circle and some kinda weird-looking, angular... thing. “Rainbow Dash’d slap me for this.” I rolled up the paper into a wad and started over. This time, after grabbing the paper, I got a pen too. Kicked myself for not bringing something to design the actual cut-out before I started cutting. I sat back down at the table and drew out a proper sun shape, a circle with six wave-y spires coming up off it; it wasn’t Royal Guard salute material, but it’d do. Then the other, I drew out the Wonderbolts lightning-bolt symbol; pretty simple stuff to cut out, provided it’s actually drawn.
With a snip here and a snails— I mean, snip there, I had two stencils that would actually make Miss Cheerilee proud. Or at least crack a smile. “Now I just wait for Creed t’ come back with the spray paint, and we can mark the doors.” I looked over my shoulder at the door, ear perked for any noises. Nothin’. “C’mon, Creed, don’t make me start lookin’ for more work...”
Too late. I was already looking at the table’s edges. If I had some sandpaper and a whittling knife, I could stylize those edges like nopony’s business. I imagine some waves carrying a busty siren on the left side, and a ship at sea on the other side. I wanted to giggle like a school filly.
“Somepony stop me, I’m havin’ one of those thoughts with pictures in ‘em!” I cheered.
Creed opened the door and poked his head in. “You mean an idea? Because I find a thinking mare very attractive.”
“Oh, there you are,” I said with relief. “How’s the outside world, chief? Do the children still laugh?”
Creed sneered as he laid a box of spraypaint cans down on the table. “Nope, everypony’s dead. Let’s paint a fridge.”
I passed the stencils over to him and walked to the fridge, leaning over in front of it to better inspect the surfaces. “So, whadya figure’s a good color?”
Creed leaned over next to me, looking over the stencils. “Well, gold for the guard, blue for the ‘Bolts. Makes sense to me.”
“But that’s so... pedestrian.” I looked at Creed with a wide-eyed, entranced stare, before breaking into a snigger. “Nah, I’m fuckin’ with ya. Ya’ve got good taste. Hand me the cans.”
Creed took the blue and gold spraypaint cans out of the box, but before handing them to me, he started spinning them in his hands. He reminded me of a gunslinger with revolvers. And an ocelot, for some reason. He switched the position of his hands without once showing signs of dropping the cans. Just when I thought he was done, he tossed one of the cans behind his back, switched hands with the other, and caught the airborne one. Then he just kept spinning.
“Well?” he asked. “Lemme at ‘em.”
“Oh!” I picked up the symbol stencils and slapped them both of the fridge; the royal guard symbol was on top, and the Wonderbolt symbol was on the bottom. Thank goodness for the versatility of wood glue, and my keen eye for keeping them in line with each other. “Go for it.”
Creed held the gold can above the blue one and went to town. His steady arms kept him from going outside of the stencils. After about ten seconds of spraying, he retracted the cans, spun them both one more time, and hooked them onto his jean loops. “Ta-da.”
The result was way better than I expected, with the symbols’ colors mixing well with the fridge’s white exterior while still catching the eye from a distance. I was especially fond of how the guard symbol turned out. The curvature of the lines, the evenness of the circle… When did I get so good at this? Wait, scratch that. How did I forget I was so good at this?
“You’re a lot better than you realize, Apple Bloom,” said Creed, as if he could read my mind. He probably noticed that I was staring at what I’d created. “I’m glad to see you so excited about all of this. When you stopped sending me photographs of your designs, I started to worry that you were giving up on carpentry, and design in general.”
“Heh…” I leaned against the fridge, being careful to not disturb the drying paint. “You get a letter from a board of professional critics tellin’ ya yer not good enough for their institution, and suddenly ya feel like giving up on the craft you worked tirelessly on ever since ya discovered yer special knack for it. That letter might as well’d said ‘YOUR LIFE IS A LIE’ in bold letters.”
“You know what?” Creed said with a mighty shrug. “Fuck ‘em. I like your work. You like your work, and I’m pretty damn sure that the dudes outside will be more than happy to meet the mare who fixed up their summer house in just three hours!”
“It’s only been three hours?” I asked. I probably squee’d, too, I dunno, wasn’t listening to myself over excitement ringing in my ears. I didn’t even know excitement had a sound until that moment.
“Better than you realize,” Creed repeated. “So, I guess we have some free time on our hands. What should we do?”
Take off your pants. “I think we should go outside, hang out with the rest of the guys for a bit. You’ll introduce me, right?”
Creed nodded wholeheartedly. “Of course. You’ll love White Knuckles and Skipper. They’re my best mates in the guard. I’ll just need to get my swim trousers…”
I punched my palm. “Oh, that’s right! Swimsuit! You didn’t happen to see where Caramel put mine, didja?”
Creed pointed past the living room. “First bedroom on the right. He threw it on the bed.”
“Cool, thanks.” I skipped out of the kitchen, into the living room, and ran into the hallway, nearly missing the bedroom. I skidded to a stop, opened the door, and headed inside. I shut the door behind me.
I sighed desperately as I lean my back against the door. "Damn him." I didn’t know what sort of mental therapy Creed went through in Neighpon, but I want some. Somehow, he knew just what to say, and just how to say it. My carpentry was the work of wonders, and I wasan idiot to deny that those past few months. I placed all the blame on those judges, but the problem was me. I flew too close to the sun. It can happen to any creative type. My mistake was not taking the rejection letter as incentive to work harder; I just gave up on the spot.
No, wait… I never gave up, I just stopped for a little while. I distracted myself from the problem with sweet food and a new bedmate every week. And yeah, rampant hedonism is all fun and games, at least until you reunite with that cold-hearted son of a bitch named reality. No, no… His name was Creed. Caramel may have been my navigator through this creative deficit of mine, but Creed was the one who reawakened me to what I can do. I probably would have figured it out eventually, but at that moment I knew I owed him everything for helping me rediscover it sooner.
Well, I could’t give him everything, but I could give him something.
I quickly threw off my hat, flannel and tank top, chucking the clothes onto the bed next to my bikini before working away at my jeans. I wanted to get out of all this fast so I didn’t hold him up, so the boots came flying off with a good kick, landing next to the bed. I grimaced as my zipper got caught in the fabric, groaning. “C’mooon, y’ stupid thing...” It took me a second before I realized that pulling it back up would get the fabric unstuck, and with a quick pull back down and drop, I hopped out of my jeans and slipped my boxers off.
Okay, maybe that was a bit too quick, since the air was chilly around the downstairs. Still, it wouldn’t be long before I was outside in the sun, so I slid over to the bed and grabbed the bottom of my swimsuit, stepping into it and slipping it on. I took a moment to admire it. It fit so nicely against me, it’s like it wasn’t even there. “Caramel’s got good taste... Wonder if he went shoppin’ for a groupie before?”
I wrapped the sarong around my waist and tied the knot. Far from modelesque, but I felt just a little bit prettier with such an elegant wrap following my movements. I then grabbed the bikini top and held it up to my chest. That’s when I got an idea.
Leaving my breasts exposed, I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, turning into the living room. There, I saw something unexpected, and that’s putting it lightly. I dropped my top on the carpet at the sight of Creed. His back was turned to me as he slipped on a pair of tight-fitting swim trunks. I savored the all-too-brief sight of his muscular, prominent ass before it was covered up by blue and black checkerboard.
What was I doing? I’d been making good conversation with the stud for the past hour. I knew I should’ve been able to get past his beauty and talk like anypony would in this situation. I mustered up the gall to say, “Hey there.”
Creed, not at all spooked by my presence despite what I may have seen, turned around. Seeing my naked torso, for a brief moment, made his expression change from content and calm to mildly surprised. “Oh.”
We both glanced at the bikini top on the floor. Predicting his unspoken question, I said, “I was gonna ask ya to tie me up, but…”
“I could,” he interrupted, stroking his beard. “But, uh…”
I left the top where it was as I stepped closer to Creed. For just being a few steps away, the trip felt like it was a long hike. I reached out, my fingers twitching from the anticipation of touching his chest. I didn’t get much of a chance to get a focused feel for him before he wrapped his arms around me, pulled me in and kissed me full-on, my body pressed against his.
Well… everything I could say had already been said. The guy could read minds. I wrapped my arms around his body, his neck specifically, closed my eyes and just relaxed in his grasp, heart pounding from the simple contact of him. He was really warm too, which did a really nice job of beating back my chill from before. I couldn’t tell how long we were connected for, every second just becoming a blur of his lips pressed against mine, his strong arms keeping me close and safe against him. I could even feel his heart pounding in his chest... He really was just as excited as me.
I felt his hand slide up my back and around my side, some sound getting out of me as he reached up and cupped my breast in his hand. His touch was gentle, like he was handling something delicate, but firm enough for me to get another squeak out. Hadn’t made that sound in a while, but they just kept rolling out as he played with me, squeezing and rubbing until I almost got sore from it. Was I really that sensitive?
“Mmph!” Oh, it felt nice... c’mon, play with my nipple some more, please... I didn’t even feel him break the kiss, I was too focused on his fingers pinching and twisting my nipple, the shocks doing more than enough to make the air in front of me feel like him. I definitely felt him shift down, and when he took my breast in his mouth, I lost strength in my legs. We both dropped to our knees, my arms hugging his head as close to me as possible, just to make sure I didn’t lose that feeling of him nibbling and sucking on me.
Every little tug sent another rush through me, I was burning like crazy, c’mon, lemme go so I can shove you over and ride you ‘till—
“Hey, woah! Two downs means you’re out!” I heard one of the guys outside shout.
“Yeah, get some ice on that bruise,” said another. “I think we still have some in the fridge.”
I hissed, not from the intensity of Creed’s teeth around my areola, but from getting cockblocked at the least opportune moment. I was so close...
I pushed Creed away by his head. He lost his balance and fell back against the couch, while I spun around and grabbed my bikini top. I wrapped it around my chest and tied the strings in record time, pulling the last knot just as I heard the door open. I wished it wouldn’t work, but damn my crafty hands, it did.
“Wow. Almost forgot there were two halves of a door here a second ago,” said the guard as he intruded upon Creed and I. He was wearing a pair of combat boots and some swim trunks of his own, colored red, which went nicely with his black coat and white spots.
“That’s White Knuckles,” Creed whispered to me. “White for short.”
White waved to us as he opened the top door of the fridge (which was the one designated for guards, thank goodness) and brought out a pack of ice. He placed it on his black eye and leaned against the counter. “How you doin’, Creed?”
“Never better,” Creed replied, his voice unusually peppy. He cleared his throat to cover up how strange he sounded. “I think we’re all done here, actually. Now we won’t have to sleep in our cars.”
“Ballin’,” said the guard. He looked over to me. “Oh, you must be Bloomer. Creed talks about you a lot.” He clicked his tongue as he examined me. “I can see why. Way to rock that two-piece.”
“Well, thank ya, sir,” I said. As I stood up, I showed White a mock curtsy. “So, are you two fightin’ out there, or somethin’?”
“Rough housin’,” he said, flexing his arm and patting his bicep. He was nothing compared to Creed, but still, he was handsome and strong enough even with the black eye. “We’re actually encouraged to when we’re off duty. Trainin’ up to defend the innocent from any and all threats. That sort of thing. Wanna join us?”
Creed looked at me with a tilted brow. “I don’t know if street fighting is your cup of tea.”
“I know some moves,” I said, flexing my arms and showing off my fists. “Let’s go for it.”
White mimicked my gesture, followed by bumping his fists together. “Lookin’ forward to it, Bloomer. But you don’t stand a chance against a trained soldier. That’s just a fact of life.” He set the ice pack down, pointed at me with a challenging expression, and then left the cabin.
“Don’t hurt yourself, okay?” Creed said. “I don’t want to bring you back to Caramel in pieces. He’d murder me.”
“Honey, you don’t have to worry about a thing,” I said. My head was lowered as I shot my piercing gaze at Creed. He looked cute, the way his fierce eyes suddenly looked so wimpy and concerned. I appreciated his sensitivity.
That’s why I pounced on him. It would only be for a few seconds, so I relished every second. A bead of his sweat rolled off his bare pecs onto my right breast. His chiseled jaw became hot with a sudden blush. He inhaled deeply as I pressed my lips around his muzzle and gave him a taste of my tongue. “...Mwah,” I sounded out as I pulled away. My lips begged me not to, so I sated them a little by kissing Creed’s ear. I restrained my country accent when I whispered to him, “Tell me when, and I’m yours.”
He licked my cheek. His tongue was just as long and chiseled as the rest of him. “That so?” he said all huskily. “All mine?”
“Oh yeah,” I purred. “Ya can do whatever ya want with me.”
“You won’t wait long, then.”
