Too Big

by Megapone

Rating: mature
Tags: Slice of Life, Anthro
Length: 12854

Bigger is better, and hotter to boot. But going up a few sizes doesn't just mean getting sexier. A "bigger" pony has to deal with bigger inconvenience, bigger difficulties in everyday tasks, and bigger temptations. These are their stories.

Bigger is better, and hotter to boot. But going up a few sizes doesn't just mean getting sexier. A "bigger" pony has to deal with bigger inconveniences, bigger difficulties in everyday tasks, and bigger temptations.

These are their stories.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-08-13 18:22:35 UTC

Stuck [Fluttershy] [Wide Hips] [Big/Hyper Breasts] [Lactation]

Fluttershy awoke to the sensation of two large weights resting directly on her chest.

She blinked lazily, content to simply watch the sunlight filtering through the curtains. She loved watching the little motes of dust drifting across her room, illuminated by the morning sun.

After about fifteen seconds of relaxation, though, she felt a light thumping on her stomach. She couldn't see him, but she knew who it'd be. Fluttershy sighed. Angel wanted to be fed, and he wasn't about to take "no" for an answer.

She took a moment to steady herself, then swept her legs off to the side just as she heaved herself up. The two weights on her chest provided no small amount of resistance, but she'd had practice with this. Other ponies didn't wake up with two fifty-pound weights dangling from their bosom every morning. Fluttershy was more than familiar with the phenomenon.

With her feet dangling over the side of her bed, Fluttershy curled her hands in her lap and glanced over her side at Angel. The little white bunny had jumped off her belly the second he'd felt her moving, and was currently standing on her depressed pillow. He was tapping his foot impatiently.

Fluttershy couldn't resist smiling down at him and patting his little fluffy head impatiently. She rested her left arm on her impressive bosom as she petted him with her right. Angel pouted at first, but then let out a sound not dissimilar to purring.

Fluttershy turned her attention back to her bust. Oh, dear. Her lips thinned as she hefted her heavy breasts with either hand, noting how much heavier they felt than the last night. It seemed they'd grown again. She picked up her discarded bra from the floor beside her bed and held it against her chest.

Somehow, she'd managed to find a bra big enough to hold them after the last time they'd had a big spurt—a "SIZE CHART" cup was, unsurprisingly, difficult to shop for. But now even that felt tight around her chest. She sighed again, then got up out of bed. Her magnificent knockers bounced against her upper belly. Another pony would have had trouble merely standing with their weight, but Fluttershy's back muscles had long since learned to compensate.

She'd never been an attractive filly, when she was younger, but puberty had hit her like a freight train. Not in the "lose-the-freckles" kind of way, admittedly, but she'd been mortified—and secretly pleased—when she'd woken up on her thirteenth birthday to a solid B-cup. Every year after that, her breasts had continued to grow. Now, nine years later, her boobs were still growing...and it looked like they weren't ready to slow down anytime soon.

Fluttershy sighed, then set the bra neatly back down onto her bed. It might be a bit tight, but it would have to do until she found something better. As she pulled her bathrobe down from its hook and swung it over her shoulders—even the extra-large one Rarity had bought her in Canterlot barely managed to reach around her finger-thick nipples—she gave her shoulders a little shrug and closed her eyes, savoring the vibrations that rippled through her supple titflesh. That, at least, was one good thing that had come from all this.

Fluttershy held the bathrobe tight around her as she made her way over to the bathroom. Her gallons of titflesh strained against the collar. She made it into the bathroom without much difficulty, and hummed a happy little tune to herself as she turned the shower on. Once the water was warm enough, she removed her bathrobe and let her two melons bounce free. She hung it up on the door and squeezed her way into the shower.

It was a tight fit, but not impossible. Fluttershy bit her lip as she felt the cold metal pinching against the sides of her breasts. It pushed a few rolls of titflesh forward, further toward her chest as she pushed to get inside. Finally, though, she felt her breasts slip through the door and bounce and jiggle fitfully. She sighed in relief, and followed up with the rest of her body.

The water was wonderfully hot, and fell down her body in rivulets and streams. Fluttershy took great pleasure in scrubbing herself clean, from the canyon-length cleavage between her breasts to her thick rump and thighs. Her hips weren’t quite as wide as her breasts, but they were just about the width of her shoulders, if not a few inches more. She wasn’t a chubby mare, by any means—her waist tapered off to a thin circle, right around her belly button—but it was clear that she brought new meaning to the words “foalbearing hips.”

She scrubbed gently at her rear, the supple, slick cheeks depressing and jiggling slightly with every stroke of her scrubber. She giggled to herself as she watched her butt bounce cutely; just a little poke of her finger was enough to spread a small system of waves across its surface. She let one hand meander down toward her legs, gasped slightly when she took a clump of flesh from her big, firm thighs and squeezed.

She stayed like that for a moment, the hot, steamy water running down her back as her slender fingers danced across her thick, matronly thighs and hips. Before she knew it, her other hand’s fingers were on her left breast. Her warm, supple breast sank a half-inch below the weight of her palm. She amused herself for a moment by pushing her breasts together and watching the water from the shower run into her cleavage, pooling there until she had a small “lake” about two inches deep. Then she let them go, and giggled nervously when that lake splashed down to the floor of the shower. It sent her breasts jiggling madly, and she flexed her two large butt cheeks on reflex.

“Mm,” Fluttershy murmured. Her hands crept toward her nipples, which were rapidly becoming erect. She moaned under her breath as she flicked her quarter-sized nipples from side to side, then moaned even lower when she felt the space between her legs quiver. She gave her nipples another squeeze and shivered. There was a warmth in her breasts; she could feel it throbbing steadily, the pleasure mounting as her breast grew to fill her hand even further. Gods, but that felt good. Maybe if she…

No, she told herself, catching that train of thought and holding it sternly in place. Angel was hungry, and the rest of her poor critters were probably waiting for her, too. She could take time to pleasure herself later; for now, she had responsibilities to take care of.

With a sigh, she turned the shower knob to “Off” and let the last streams of water run down her shoulders. She took a long, deep breath of the humid, steam-filled air, and idly fingered a few droplets of moisture still clinging to her bust. Then, eager to get dry, she opened the door to her shower and stepped through.

Or attempted to, at any rate. Fluttershy’s eyes opened wide when she realized that the doorframe was pushing against her bust again. This time, though, the amount of titflesh that had been pushed back by the force of the metal frame was double what it had been before. She grunted, tried to push herself through. The glass walls creaked and groaned, but she only managed to push her bigger breasts through the opening another two inches before she could go no further.

Her breasts were compacted together, the pressure impossibly tight. Thick folds of her breasts were piled up on either side of her bust, held in place by the shower frame. She tried to pull herself back into the shower. That didn’t work either. She’d somehow managed to wedge herself halfway through the opening: the bulk of her enormous breasts on one side, and the rest of her body on the other.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “Oh, dear, oh, dear.”

She squirmed against her breasts, pounded against the walls. No luck. After a minute or so of fruitless struggling, she was beginning to think she’d never get out of here—at least, not until her breasts grew big enough to crack the metal frame itself. Or until she starved. One of the two.

Fortunately, salvation came when the door to the bathroom creaked slowly open. Fluttershy paused in her struggles, then brightened when she saw Angel peeking around the door.

“Oh, Angel!” she said. The bunny frowned at her, then tapped his foot while patting his tummy. “Oh, I know you’re hungry. I’m hungry too. I’m just kind of”—she strained against her squashed breasts, then leaned against them, panting—”stuck.”

Angel tapped his foot a few more times. Then, he hopped on out of the bathroom. Not thirty seconds later, he returned with a small armada of woodland critters that Fluttershy recognized from her backyard. It took some pulling, some grunting, and quite a bit of elbow grease on everyone’s part, but soon enough, Fluttershy felt something slipping against her breasts. It didn’t hurt that some of the steam from her shower had cooled against her bust’s copious surface area, slickening it with moisture. All in all, with the critters’ help, it took only ten seconds of pulling before Fluttershy was pulled free.

She was yanked free with a shriek, and collapsed in a heap onto the floor. Several of the animals, which hadn’t been very lucky (or perhaps were luckier than the others), were covered by her twin mounds. They smacked down onto the floor beneath Fluttershy’s chest, propping her up like cushions and absorbing most of the force of the impact. Her massive breasts jiggled and bounced like crazy, ripples of vibration shuddering through her bust as her equally massive rump jiggled along.

“Oh, gosh,” Fluttershy gasped. She tried to heave herself off of the floor—and, therefore, off of the critters squished beneath her magnificent bust—but found her bust’s new weight rather difficult to lift. With a grunt, she managed to lift them off of the floor, just high enough for the rather squashed critters to escape. Then she heaved herself up into a sitting position, and flinched as the massive weight of her breasts collided with her chest.

She sat there for a moment, getting her breath back. She eyed her bust sadly.

Where before her enormous N-cup boobs had sagged down to her belly button, her new (she put them, on a whim, at around a U-cup) bust actually rested against the inside of her thighs when she was sitting with her legs crossed. Her titflesh spread out across her thighs while her underboob pressed against her belly. She had to lean forward a little bit to manage it, but just doing so took most of the weight off of her back and spread it out over her generous thighs and rear instead. She felt her butt cheeks squish out beneath her, and shivered slightly at the coldness of the tiled floor.

“Okay, everyone,” she said, looking around at the assembled critters. She smiled. “Thank you very much for helping me out. Now, just let me get dressed, and I’ll feed you in a jiffy.” The animals chittered happily and left, though Angel stayed behind to watch her. Now that his meal ticket was safe, his foot was back to tapping impatiently. Fluttershy just smiled at him. Typical Angel.

“Okay,” she told herself. “I can do this.” She hoped. It took some struggle, but she managed to grab a hold of the bathroom counter and heave herself up into a standing position. She stood still for a moment, panting and leaning forward while her breasts leaned on the marble surface. She caught sight of the shower frame through the side of the mirror: the metal had been twisted and slightly deformed from the effort of breaking her free. She grimaced.

Brushing her teeth would have been easier if she’d been able to keep the toothpaste from dribbling into her cleavage. As it was, Fluttershy had to do a silly little motion after rinsing: pulling her head back, cheeks puffed out with water, then thrusting her neck forward while spitting as hard as she could. Most of the water made it into the basin. A good amount, though, landed right on the edge of her breasts, where it slowly dripped down over her nipples. Fluttershy sighed, and wiped herself off with a washcloth.

Getting dressed proved to be a bit of a challenge as well. She eyed the discarded bra on the floor with some regret; there was no way that would fit her anymore. Even if she could manage to snap the clasp shut behind her—which would be no small feat, even with help—it would likely be so tight and uncomfortable that she’d be forced to remove it immediately. She had more than enough experience with that kind of growing pain. It looked like she’d be going without support today.

Fluttershy had to strain a bit to get her pants up over her thick, fleshy thighs and rear. She could feel her butt cheeks squeezing together as the fabric forced them into place. It took some doing, and a bit of struggling, but she finally managed to get her pants up over her panties—which, when pulled over her large ass, less resembled underwear than a thong. She sighed.

At least once they were over her hips, her wide-set curves held her pants upright by themselves. She actually had to use a belt to tighten the pants around her skinny little waist. When she eyed the sides of her pants, though, she noted that the seams were straining to contain her oodles of thick, supple flesh. She’d have to go to Rarity and get these taken out again.

Finding a shirt that fit proved even more difficult. After giving up on her third t-shirt—she just couldn’t get it to fit over her breast shelf—Fluttershy threw on a baggy shirt that Rainbow Dash had bought her as a gag gift last Hearth’s Warming (it bore the words Milk Mare, and while Fluttershy would have never dared to wear it outside, it couldn’t do much harm in here).

It didn’t quite fit like a charm—inspecting herself in the mirror, Fluttershy noted that the bottom of the shirt didn’t even come down to her belly button, and that her two erect nipples poked rather visibly through the straining fabric. It didn’t help, either, that her boobs pushed the collar of the shirt so far forward that the majority of her upper cleavage was visible, the fabric outlining the tops of her breasts like the sides of a heart.

Ah, well. Admittedly, it provided for some kind of support, lifting her breasts up to the point where the lower half of her tummy was actually visible. She could do a lot worse. It was probably the best she had.

Angel was fairly happy when she finally fed him. It was a bit awkward to try and set his bowl down onto the floor with her massive jugs obstructing her vision—at this point, she couldn’t even see her feet when she was standing up—but she managed. Somehow.

Preparing breakfast for herself turned out to be even more difficult. Fluttershy took one look at her cutting board and uncut veggies before deciding that her usual omelette wasn’t a good idea. Reaching around her enormous breasts with a knife in hand definitely didn’t sound smart. She settled for instant oatmeal—she didn’t even have to handle boiling water, which was definitely a plus—and leaned against the wall to take some of the weight off her back while she waited for it to finish.

She poured the finished oatmeal into a bowl and placed it gingerly on the table. Then she sat down in her seat—her ass actually spread itself wide enough to nearly drape off the edges—and attempted to pull her chair in. She stopped when she realized that, even with her chair pushed a good six inches back, the front side of her breasts were still resting gently on the tabletop.

“Um,” she said aloud. She experimented with a few different positions, but each time, she found her boobs getting in the way. They were too big to eat over or around, and there was absolutely no way for her to easily reach her oatmeal from here. It didn’t help that, thanks to the “support” of her shirt, her breasts were tied too tightly in place to really push aside; every time she tried, she got nothing more than a load of jiggling and even harder nipples. Fluttershy’s cheeks were flushed red with frustration after a good thirty seconds of failed maneuvering.

Finally, she got an idea. Taking the placemat from the table—the bottom of the bowl was hot, even if the sides weren’t—she placed it on top of her bust and watched with some measure of satisfaction as it settled into something resembling a flat surface. With bated breath, she awkwardly grabbed hold of the bowl by reaching around her massive bust and, carefully, placed it atop her breasts.

It stayed in place. Blushing even more furiously with the knowledge that her boobs were now big enough to function as a table, Fluttershy took a bite of her oatmeal. She chewed it thoughtfully, then swallowed.

It was missing something. Not quite sweet, and not quite creamy. She took another bite and sloshed it around in her cheeks, thinking. It was only when she realized that she’d been unintentionally stroking the side of her bust with her free hand that she realized what she’d been thinking of.

“Oh, dear,” Fluttershy mumbled, her cheeks coloring once more. She’d never checked to see if her oversized breasts produced...well. But as she prodded the side of one of her jugs, she swore she could feel something sloshing inside. Could it be…?

Once she’d made sure that nopony was around, Fluttershy rolled up her shirt—it wasn’t very hard, and she gave a sigh of relief as her boobs sprang free—and pushed her chair to the side so that her boobs were hanging down into her lap instead of on the table. She cradled her right one in her opposite hand, and curled her right hand’s fingers around her nipple.

Her nipple, compared to the rest of her pillowy bust, felt cool and hard against her palm. She gave it a little squeeze, and then gasped when she felt a slight dampness against her skin. Another squeeze produced an actual squirt of liquid. Thankfully, none of it landed on her lap. Fluttershy drew it up to her mouth and sniffed it before giving it a long, cautious lick. “Oh, my,” she said. “That’s certainly milk.”

She hesitated. Stimulating her breasts in the shower had made them grow even bigger. Should she really…?

Well. She didn’t really see how much worse it could get. And besides, she was getting hungry and her oatmeal was getting colder with every second she spent thinking about it. If she’d had milk in the fridge, it would have been a moot point, but she didn’t. And besides: she was curious.

Tentatively, Fluttershy held her still-steaming bowl of oatmeal beneath her nipple and squeezed. She stifled a moan, biting down on her lip as a thick stream of milk flowed down and into the bowl. She could feel the milk still inside her breast sloshing, replenishing, waiting impatiently to be released.

Soon, she’d added enough milk to finish her oatmeal. But the release felt so good, and her milk had tasted so amazing before. So Fluttershy kept squeezing her thumb-sized nipple, watching in awe as the bowl filled with her milk, then began to overflow.

She could feel her areola and nipple throbbing against her palm. It felt so warm, so pleasurable, so fulfilling. She kept squeezing, and moaned for real when a healthy spurt of milk squirted forth and splattered onto the floor. She felt a dampness on her lap, and registered that her left breast had begun to leak as well.

Still hungry, but also overcome with sudden arousal, Fluttershy felt a sudden urge to go straight to the source. It took some doing, simply because of the sheer distance between her head and the other side of her breasts, but she managed to heft the bottom of her left breast with one hand while pulling its fist-sized areola toward her. She felt her hard, throbbing nipple brush up against her lips, and instantly latched onto it.

She moaned around it, gulping greedily as she sucked a steady stream of milk from her own tit. It was warm and smooth, creamy as it ran down her thirsty throat. She gave her breast another squeeze and gasped as the flood of warm milk into her stomach doubled in size, all but melting around her heavy, sloshing breast. She kept grabbing at her tit, her wandering hand squeezing the massive sphere and feeling her supple titflesh squeezing between her fingers. She forced her leaking nipple further and further into her mouth, moaning lowly as she felt her stomach filling up with her own milk.

Somewhere along the way, she’d found that she could keep her nipple between her suckling lips just by propping her heavy breast up with her elbow. Her free hand, then, had wandered down between her legs, pushing past her waistline until she could squeeze her thick, motherly thighs. Fluttershy’s fingers found their way to her marehood and began to massage her clit gently. She gasped, then began to suckle even harder as her arousal mounted.

She needed to stop. Her belly was feeling too full; she could feel the milk sloshing around inside of her every time she came up for air. But she was still so hungry, still so turned on. Her fingers vibrated madly against her inner walls, spreading her lower lips wide as she masturbated for all she was worth.

She needed to stop, needed to let it go. If she kept going, her breasts were going to get even bigger. If she kept pleasuring herself, she’d wake up the next morning with a slightly wider pair of hips. If she kept going, one day she’d wake up and her boobs wouldn’t fit through the front door, let alone the shower door. Her hips and rump would be thrice as wide as her waist, and her boobs would hang down all the way to her groin—or even her knees, so big and heavy and full that she’d need a wheelbarrow to cart them around—

With a final, lustful cry, Fluttershy threw her head back and came. A string of milk and saliva clung to her lips as more dribbled down her chin. A fire was burning in her loins, raging while her inner walls clenched and spasmed around her hand. She could feel her pants growing tight around her hips as her fingers were stained with femcum; her panties were growing wetter and wetter. Somewhere along her orgasm, she thought that she heard the seams of her pants give way to her massive thighs, her rear spreading out until it almost hung over the sides of her chair. She rode it out, eyes rolled back, jaw hanging open as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

She came out of it slowly, panting, saliva and milk still dribbling from the corner of her mouth. She wiped it off with her sleeve, withdrew her hand from her pants. Droplets of her nectar still clung to her fingers, filling the air with a sweet, musky aroma. Fluttershy sighed and closed her eyes; her massive breasts, emptied of milk and still so big and round and full, sat comfortably in her lap, giving her a comfortable place to rest her chin.

Angel was standing on the countertop, one half of a carrot frozen in place not an inch away from his mouth. His eyes were wide, and he was staring at her unblinkingly. Fluttershy gave him an apologetic sigh, and then turned to the enormous puddle of milk on the floor. Not all of it had gone down her throat, after all.

Worming one hand underneath her enormous bust—did it feel heavier than before, or was it just her?—Fluttershy felt her full stomach. It was slightly rounded, and depressed a bit below her palm. She could feel what felt like a good gallon of milk sloshing about inside. She smiled faintly, then grimaced when she turned back to the puddle.

Cleaning that up with these—she cradled her right breast in her hands—in the way wouldn’t be fun. Still, it’d be no fair to the critters if she asked them to help. She’d made the mess, so she had to clean it up.

As she wiped up the mess—sitting on the floor, wiping from the side, and letting her boobs rest in her lap so as to feel a bit lighter—a clipped smile crossed her face. Fluttershy giggled lightly, and caught Angel’s eye. The poor bunny was still frozen in place, staring at her—or, more accurately, staring at her assets.

Fluttershy giggled again and squeezed her breast firmly. She could already feel it filling up with milk again, she thought. “I guess,” she said, offering Angel a smile, “that they do come with some perks, after all.”

Next time, she’d make sure not to leave such a mess. But next time...

A shiver went up her spine. Oh, yes. There would be a next time, whether she consciously wanted it or not. And some part of her knew that she wanted it, and savored that thought.

And next time, she’d make sure to enjoy every second of it.

Full [Soarin'] [Hyper Dick+Balls] [Autofellatio]

Soarin’ gulped down the last of the energy drink and set it down onto the table with a sigh. He grinned at Dash and wiped away a bit of moisture with his sleeve. “Man, that stuff’s good. Got any more?”

She grinned back. “Nah. That stuff was just a gift from Spitfire. Really expensive or something.” She shrugged. “Anyways, we’re gonna head out to Ponyville to set up for the show. You coming?”

Soarin’ made to say yes—and then yawned instead. He’d woken up that morning feeling ready for anything, but now, a tiredness felt like it was dragging his limbs down. He offered a wan smile. “I’ll catch up. I think I’ll just take a nap first.”

When he woke up an hour or two later, the first thing he noticed was his crotch.

It felt warm and, not surprisingly, tight. Soarin’ was used to getting morning wood after a good nap, so he wasn’t too bothered about it. He grinned drowsily and stroked his crotch gently—

—and paused when he realized that his shaft was filling up a whole lot more of his palm than he was used to. He blinked, then sat up.

Oh, yeah. The bulge in his groin was a lot bigger than he was familiar with. After making sure that nobody was around—usually, the Wonderbolt suits weren’t too good at covering up their wearer’s “privates,” and this new size made it positively obscene—he made his way to the bathroom and stripped.

He gaped as his erection sprang free and came to settle in his hand. It was almost as wide as his palm, and surprisingly heavy. He hefted it an inch up and down, and felt his balls, now near apple-sized orbs, sway in response. He could almost feel the cum sloshing around inside.

Starting as a somewhat average stallion made Soarin’ give absolutely no objections when his ten-incher suddenly became a fourteen. Cradling his larger member in both hands, he gripped it tight and went to work. In what seemed like no time at all, he was cumming, his hips bucking wildly as thick ropes of cum erupted from his tip.

When he finished, his cock was still throbbing hard, and his balls still felt full—a surprise to a stallion who’d always had to deal with a refractory period of a good half-hour. Definitely not an unwelcome one, though. Soon enough, he felt his hands gripping his jerking, lurching shaft as rope after rope of his thick, musky spooge leapt into the air and fell into the toilet.

Well, mostly into the toilet. A good amount of his seed splattered around it and onto the floor instead. A quick effort to use toilet paper to clean it up did little more than make it even messier. A guilty blush on his face, Soarin’ pulled his suit back on—his bulge protruding hugely from his crotch—and crept out of the bathroom. Hopefully, somepony would clean that up later. By then, he planned to be long gone.

Takeoff wasn’t any big deal, though he was very aware of the pressure his (surprisingly full, considering he’d just jerked off twice) balls exerted on the insides of his legs. As he flew, though, he started to feel another erection coming on. With a sigh—though not an annoyed one—he settled down on another cloud and pulled away his uniform. It was still early; a quickie couldn’t hurt.

What he found, though, made him gape in awe. His shaft, which had already been bigger than usual, had grown larger still. Another two inches had been added to its length, which now came up to just an inch or two below his sculpted chest. His hands shaking, he jerked himself off and moaned loudly as he thrust wildly in the direction of the cloud, spurting what felt like pints of jizz into the fluffy white surface.

He took off again, this time a bit more concerned. He could feel his cock throbbing as he flew, growing, his balls filling up with more spooge. Sweat began to drip down his forehead, and was instantly blown back by the wind. His wings beat faster, faster. He couldn’t stop. Couldn’t give in.

But the sensation, the throbbing, was overwhelming. The lurching and shuddering of his blood-filled cock was impossible to ignore. It felt like a second heart. Soarin’ bit his lip and shifted direction with the wind.

Soarin’ panted as another tremor shook his body. He’d been riding a pleasantly warm thermal down toward Ponyville, and it seemed that what felt good for his coat felt good for…other things as well. Soon enough, it became clear that he had a choice: keep flying, and explode all over himself in midair, or land and manage the situation. His fat balls, which had begun to push his legs slightly apart, were starting to feel incredibly pent-up.

He groaned, feeling his cock throb against the fabric of his uniform, his balls churning with what felt like quarts of spooge. There was a pressure growing at the base of his cock, like that of a dam about to break. He watched in disbelief, flying on autopilot, as his erection actually began to strain against his uniform, deforming the material. He could hear the fabric ripping slightly around the skin-tight material, the bright, thick veins of his massive erection poking through a few failing seams. Grunting, sweating, and panting, he went with his second choice.

He landed on a nearby cloud and immediately got to work. With every second that his stallionhood went unattended, it grew another few inches, adding pound after pound of heavy stallion meat to his figure. Pegasi flew through magic, not physical wingpower, but there was definitely a limit to how much cock even a Wonderbolt could carry in flight.

He worked furiously at his shaft. It was so long, so thick, with a head wider than his forearm and an inch-wide slit that wouldn’t stop oozing pre. He grunted, his hips jerking slightly as he choked his stallionhood. It actually reached his nipples now. Salivating, alternating between horror at his situation and giddiness at being able to do something he’d always wanted to try, Soarin’ opened his mouth wide and dove right in.

Up and down his mouth went, pre leaking down his throat. Soarin’ moaned around his flared head, feeling it fill his mouth. He knew he should stop before he got any bigger, but it just felt so good.

Soarin’ moaned as his oncoming orgasm rumbled. One hand ran up and down his monstrous, two-foot shaft, rubbing his bulging medial ring as hard as it could. The other massaged his enormous ballsack. At first, he could only imagine the oceans of hot, stallion cum that lay in their depths just waiting to burst out—and then, as the first wave hit his throat, he didn’t have to imagine.

He pulled his mouth off with a wet pop, sputtering as cum clogged his mouth and throat alike.

Another pony might have tried to swallow it all, but Soarin’ knew that if he swallowed every drop of seed his overproductive balls made, let alone every gallon, he’d never even make it off the ground.

Most of the rest of the orgasm fell onto the cloud, changing it from a whispy to a—solidly—milky white. The rest of it either had landed in Soarin’s mane, or had fallen to the earth below to give some (un)lucky pony a warm, sticky shower. It looked like his “attention” had had some positive effect—his stallionhood was down to around sixteen inches along—still big, but manageable—while his ballsack was “just” the size of a pair of grapefruits. But Soarin’ didn’t take the time to bask in the afterglow. He could already feel his “emptied” balls swelling up again with seed, and he had a schedule to keep.

So he flew, as fast as he could, with the wind whipping at his two-foot package as it bobbed and bounced beneath him. Within two minutes, though, sweat was running down his face from exertion. He could almost hear his gargantuan balls, now the size of watermelons, churning with cum beneath him. He could feel the immense pressure of a growing ocean of cum lapping up against the confining volume of his already-enormous balls.

Meanwhile, his two-foot cock hadn’t wasted a single second, and had already swollen up to three and a half feet, leaking more and more precum all the while. Somewhere along the way, the lower half of his uniform actually tore—ripped right off of him, flapping in the wind behind his heavy balls and leaving his massive shaft free to bob and sway in the wind.

Once again panting rapidly, he glanced around for a cloud. Nothing, nothing, nothing—but there! In the distance!

His wings flapped harder than they’d ever flapped before, struggling to keep him and his growing stallionhood in the air. In the final throes of desperation, Soarin’ flipped into the third position of the Dazzlin’ Diamond Dive—flying forward on his back, his belly up toward the sky.

His wings somehow managed to propel him forward as he desperately sucked on his growing shaft, his palms pumping at its sides like they’d never pumped before.

He came again and again, each time coming up for a gasp of air as a shower of precum burst from his tip. Each time, his package stopped growing for a little while, and sometimes even shrunk down a bit, but it was never long before he felt the pressure growing in his balls again, his shaft throbbing as more and more cum filled up his balls to bursting.

Luckily, he’d positioned himself such that the steady flood of precum actually pushed him forward a bit—and within another five seconds, he saw that he was actually nearly there. Come on, he told himself, grunting around his swelling and throbbing head, his jaw cracking around its impossible size. His incredible nuts must have been the size of beanbag chairs at this point, and were dragging him down at least an inch every second with their huge weight. His wings were working overtime, but—would he make it? Just a little further, he thought. Just a little longer.

“Ahhh!” he cried out, hitting the cloud with a bump, a roll, and a final orgasm. A geyser of cum surged from his tip, actually pushing the cloud—luckily, a firmer, wider specimen than the last one—down a few inches in the air with its force.

Soarin’ panted as his seed showered back down on him, his melon-sized nuts shuddering as they put out rope after rope of thick, warm spooge into the air, finally stopping in growth as well.

Soarin’ took a deep breath and glanced down at his package. “Welp,” he said, swallowing. “Let’s hope that’s over.”

His stallionhood twitched once, though in amusement or mercy, Soarin’ couldn’t possibly tell. At this point, he didn’t really care. He sucked some air, trying to catch his breath. His massive schlong was splayed across his lap, weighing heavily on his hind legs. His balls weren’t much of a light burden, either; he could feel them sloshing gently against his thighs. But at least they didn’t feel ready to burst anymore.

Warily, he got to his feet, then sighed when his oversized cock just slapped against his leg instead of protruding above his head. It was almost as long as his leg, he realized, hanging down all the way to the top of his shin. He eyed the cloud—which now looked nearly storm-black with all the extra moisture he’d forced into it—and walked tenderly across its surface. His fat, heavy balls forced him into a waddling gait, pushing his legs apart and sloshing noticeably with every step.

He gave his wings a few experimental flaps, and let out a relieved breath when they lifted him a good inch off of the ground. It wouldn’t be easy, but with his smaller, emptied balls, and his flaccid shaft, he shouldn’t have any problems getting to Ponyville without crashing—assuming, of course, that they didn’t fill up again somewhere along the way.

So, with the ragged remains of his uniform still clinging to his torso, and his over-two-foot-long cock leaning against the inside of his thigh, he leapt into the air. Though his balls dangled clumsily between his legs, he was able to rise up a good three meters above the cloud.

“Alright, Soarin’,” he told himself. He took a deep breath. “Time to get down there, ASAP.” He couldn’t help a cocky grin from crossing his face. Now that he’d emptied his uncooperative nuts—he chanced a glance downward, and let out a soft “whew” when he saw that they looked no bigger than before—he should have no trouble making it to Ponyville unmolested. Literally, that is—he hoped. He wasn’t the co-captain of the Wonderbolts for nothing, after all.

He dove back into a thermal, and grinned as air rushed past his ears. This was more like it. He did his best to ignore the sound of his flaccid cock smacking against his legs as he flew.

As he flew, he could feel his cock throbbing. Thankfully, though, it looked like that final orgasm had done the trick. Although his balls swelled up a bit during the last ten minutes of his flight, they stayed manageable enough for him to stay comfortably airborne. And a good thing, too—Ponyville’s weather team had cleared out all of the surrounding clouds for the evening’s show, and he did not want to crash land in the middle of somepony’s barn with a boner half his size.

Eyeing the colorful blue-and-yellow tent set up toward the back of one of the fields around the town, Soarin’ angled in the air and dove. His cock flapped uselessly against his thigh, streaming clear precum into the wind. The image flashed into his mind of unsuspecting ponies being treated to a midday rainstorm, and he quickly pushed it away, blushing madly.

He alighted onto the grass behind the tent and slipped inside. The interior of the tent was shady and cool, and he could see a pile of the team’s bags stashed toward the back. He grinned and began to make his way over. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like anypony was around. He didn’t feel too self-conscious, then, about the way that his fat cock swung from side to side between his legs, or the way his heavy balls left a trail of musk and pre behind him.

Soarin’ found his own bag, stamped with his name, right near the top. Inside, though, were just a few props and an overnight bag. With dawning horror, he dumped its contents out onto the floor and made to comb through them more carefully.

“Looking for this?”

Soarin’ whirled on the spot. Spitfire, clad in her own suit, was standing by the main entrance. The bright latex of her Wonderbolts uniform pushed her not unimpressive bust up an extra inch or two, and the twin bulges of her nipples were just barely visible in the dim light. Soarin’ felt his massive member begin to harden despite himself.

She smirked at him and hefted a bright blue suit in her hand. “Hm?”

“Ah.” Soarin’ raised a hand, his cheeks tinged a bit red. He didn’t feel too flustered about being in the nude in front of ‘Fire—they’d gotten up to their fair share of mischief as co-captains, after all—but paired with the day he’d had, the sudden growth of his package, and the way he desperately needed to get dressed before anyone else walked in, he felt like it wasn’t really that unmerited. “Yes, please.”

He gulped as Spitfire took a step forward. There was a sultry sway to her hips, her lips pursed lightly at a joke that seemingly only she could understand.

“You won’t be needing it,” she said. With a shrug, she tossed it away. “You’ll be using that one tonight.” With a nod, she pointed him toward another uniform slung over a changing bench by his side.

Soarin’ blinked, then turned and picked it up. His eyes widened when he realized the enormous pouch sewn into the front—as well as the impressively-sized hole in the pouch’s front that pointed directly up toward the head. He suddenly noticed the massive puddle of pre that had been gathering beneath him—leakage from his massive erection—and flushed even further.

“You can’t be serious,” he said.

“Oh, I’m serious. The team figured that we needed a new attraction.” Spitfire’s smirk grew, and Soarin’ struggled to keep his arousal under control. On the last legs of his trip, it’d been fine...but his last orgasm had been thirty minutes ago, and Spitfire’s obvious breasts were doing nothing to help the situation. “So we’ve got a new act. Rainbow Dash helped iron the idea out—helped make it possible, actually.” Soarin’s mind suddenly flashed back to the strange-tasting energy drink she’d offered him that morning.

Spitfire’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “And you’re gonna be the centerpiece.”

“What’s the act?” Soarin’ had a feeling he already knew. His balls suddenly felt much heavier in their sack. His cock was already at half-mast, stretching out before him like an enormous dowsing rod.

Spitfire winked. “Turns out that summer crowds are eager for some rainy days. So we put together this act just for them. We call it ‘The Splatter’.”

Pleasured [Twilight] [Futa] [Hyper Cock/Big Breasts] [Gratuitous Cum] [Self-Boobjob]

Twilight eyed herself in the mirror. She was frowning.

Of course, at a glance, one would be forgiven for questioning why, exactly, she looked so unhappy. Even before her ascension to alicornhood, Twilight Sparkle had never exactly been unattractive. With her new pair of wings, though, had come a whole new host of benefits: another ten inches in height, which brought her from an average five-foot-seven to a looming six-foot-five; a pair of G-cup breasts that pushed her shirts out so far that her cleavage always looked like it was ready to spill out of her bra; and a toned, powerful body with barely an ounce of unnecessary fat on it.

At least around the middle.

Twilight’s eyes weren’t aimed at her breasts, no matter how big and soft they might be. No: she had eyes only for her ass, a pair of big, round butt cheeks that stuck out a good three inches behind her. She gave one a tight squeeze, and bit her lip when she felt a solid handful of assflesh jiggling in her palm.

After her, ah, growth spurt, she’d needed to replace her entire wardrobe. Prin—Celestia had been kind enough to replace her entire wardrobe. Her every pair of panties, it seemed, had to be super-sized to fit her full, lascivious figure. That would have worked had it not been for another set of assets that had come in shortly after Twilight had grown her wings.

A thick, fat horsecock was nestled against her crotch, its weight warm against her groin. Twilight shifted her weight, then mentally groaned as both her ass and her package bounced playfully. Where her butt threatened to spill over the backs of her thighs, her new member rested comfortably upon her pair of heavy, swollen nuts.

Twilight fondled them for a moment, then bit her lip even harder when she felt the small lakes of cum sloshing inside. When she pulled her hand away, it was all but dripping with her own musk; she had to resist the urge to hold it close to her nose and sniff the scent of her own sex. As it was, her marehood, positioned just behind its male counterpart, was already dripping in arousal as Twilight’s meaty member throbbed atop her fat nuts. But this was no time for personal pleasure. She still had to finish getting dressed.

And that, of course, was the real cause of her displeasure. The pair of panties that Celestia had gotten her should have fit perfectly. But they didn’t just have to fit around Twilight’s big, juicy ass—her flaccid shaft alone, as thick around as her forearm and accompanied by a pair of heavy nuts sloshing with her seed, filled it out rather nicely. Forced around the entirety of the well-endowed alicorn’s waist, her pair of panties better resembled a piece of lingerie than proper underwear.

Twilight’s frowned deepened as she eyed her figure in the mirror. She’d been taking measurements lately, on a hunch, and was sure that her stallionhood and rear were both bigger than they’d been just a week ago. If this kept up, it wouldn’t be long before this pair of panties snapped just like the last one had.

With a sigh, she set about putting the rest of her clothes on. Thankfully, she’d been able to get a bra in her size—though she suspected she’d have to start going custom-made, like Fluttershy, before long—and her shirt settled comfortably over her breast shelf. Getting her pants over her chubby rear had been a bit of a challenge, and she’d had a heck of a time fitting her rather sizeable bulge comfortably into the crotch of her workout pants, but she’d gotten there in the end. With a grin and a thumbs-up to her reflection, Twilight turned and jogged out of her room, her ass and bulge bouncing happily all the way.

They didn’t stop bouncing, of course.

As she set about her morning jog, Twilight’s grin steadily became more and more forced. Not because of the jog itself—she loved feeling the burn in her muscles, feeling her heart and legs throb in time with one another—but because of the way her other parts seemed to enjoy the jog along with her.

Her breasts heaved up and down with every impact of her running shoes on the path. Her sweat, gathering on her neck and forehead, slid down into her canyon-crack cleavage, leaving the space in between her breasts clammy and moist. She could feel her boobs sliding up and down against one another as she jogged, her enormous jugs happily squishing, jiggling, and bouncing in time with her feet.

That wasn’t the only thing she had to worry about, though. Her big, bouncy ass—Rainbow Dash had once jokingly called it “downright fat”, and Twilight had spent the next fifteen minutes blushing as red as a tomato—just wouldn’t stop being, well, bouncy. Her tight-fitting workout pants clung to the contours of her ass like plastic wrap, enunciating every curve, concealing everything while hiding nothing. Every step just bounced her butt even higher, her massive cheeks folding over the back of her thighs going down, and jolting up even higher, flapping against the bottom of her back on the way back up. Altogether, her boobs and butt made a rather unsubtle symphony of smacks and sliding slaps, her well-endowed rear happily rubbing against itself as it moved.

Twilight eyed the other ponies who’d also come out to the park—some jogging in the opposite direction, some sitting on the benches and watching her go by—and flushed a cherry red. All of them could see her massive, undulating body in almost all of its glory. Her too-tight workout gear was the only thing keeping it from being outright indecent—but as she felt the string of her panties tightening around her generous hips, she swallowed, hard.

The bulge in her crotch was the centerpiece to the rest of her body. It stuck out in front of her by a good five or six inches, a lumpy sphere of warm, flopping mare-meat. Twilight bit her lip as she felt the bottom of her flaccid schlong rubbing against the tops of her sloshing, heavy nuts. She couldn’t afford to get a boner. Not here. She didn’t want to have to replace another pair of jogging pants, especially after the last pair had ripped right down the left seam, absolutely drenched in her, ah, fluids.

Thankfully, she made it through the rest of her jog without incident. Still, she found herself making a conscious effort to ignore the stares of the ponies she passed as she began her second lap around the park. She passed a fellow jogger—”On your left,” she called helpfully, squeezing her massive body around him—and almost winced when she glanced back and saw his eyes opened wide, his gaze directed entirely at her fat, bouncing ass. The next stallion she passed was a short one; the top of his head didn’t even come up to her underboob, and his belly was roughly even with her bulging crotch.

Twilight loved her new body—really. She just wished that it didn’t have to be so obvious.

Thankfully, her second lap finished her jog off, and she gratefully made her way back home. By now, her throbbing shaft had slipped out of her panties and was now lying, almost casually, against the inside of her leg. Her pants bulged obscenely around it, making it seem as though she’d slipped a half-sized third leg inside. Twilight all but sighed in relief when she pushed the door to the library open and slipped—she had to bow her head a bit to get inside, but she tried to ignore that—into the main room.

“Morning, Twi!” Spike’s voice came floating out from the kitchen. Soon, the dragon himself came marching into the library, a chef’s hat perched on his scales and a tray of muffins in his claws. “I just finished this batch—thought you might be hungry!”

Not quite an adolescent but no longer a baby, Spike was around the same height as a tallish stallion colt—which put him eye-to-crotch with Twilight’s throbbing bulge. She grinned awkwardly as his cheeks rapidly colored.

“Or,” Spike said quickly, blinking. He did a one-eighty-degree turn, his arms held stiffly in front of him. “I’ll, uh, just let you take care of that first.”

Twilight’s cheeks flushed red as well, though a thankful smile crossed her face. “Um. Sure,” she said. “But those do smell delicious.” Her stomach grumbled as the scent of cinnamon-encrusted apples crossed her nostrils. Since her “growth spurt,” she’d found herself eating more and more to keep up her figure—Celestia herself, a nine-foot amazon with breasts bigger than Twilight’s head, easily put away enough food to feed a family of four every meal—and so she’d found Spike’s cooking to be an amazing gift.

Spike chanced a look back over his shoulder. He grinned sheepishly. “I’ll put out a dozen or so on a plate and leave ‘em out for you, okay?”

“Sounds great,” Twilight said. Then, her cock giving a sudden, attention-grabbing throb, she turned and all but ran upstairs.

Twilight’s breathing was heavy as she undressed herself. Though her wide hips and protruding bust made it difficult to get her clothes off, the slick sweat on her coat made it a bit easier to slip them off. She squeezed her eyes shut and grunted as she struggled to get her shirt over her head—and breathed out when it came off with a “slap-slap,” her big breasts smacking against her chest from the impact. Sighing, she flung her stretched and sweaty shirt down to the floor and got to work undoing her bra clasp. That, at least, wasn’t too big.

She let out a noticeable groan when she slipped her pants off, letting her thighs, ass, and balls ooze free from their cloth prison. She felt even better when she slipped her thumbs underneath the tight string of her panties and pulled them loose from her throbbing crotch. Those few inches of freedom were like a breath of fresh air to her hardening shaft—which by now was two-thirds of the way down her thighs and not even fully hard yet—and it happily bobbed up a few inches more until it hit the bottom of her hand.

Carefully, making sure not to snap it, Twilight pulled her panties’ back string out from her massive ass and gently slipped it down her legs. She let out a sigh when the front slipped over her cock, letting it bob free until it was pointed up by a good forty-five degrees.

She turned on the shower, let the water get warm, and slipped inside. The hot water was a blessing to her sore, sweaty limbs; the warm soapy water felt wonderful on her heaving bust and throbbing stallionhood. With a surge of arousal, Twilight lathered up her palm with a good dollop of conditioner—getting off with soap made for the opposite of fun, but there were other ways to have a good time in the shower—and got to work.

In what seemed like no time at all, her throbbing cock erupted in a mass of white. Twilight choked on her saliva, propping herself against the shower wall as her shaft blasted spurt after spurt of thick, creamy spooge into the base of the shower. Her pent-up, musky balls shuddered and lurched as her orgasm sent shocks of pleasure trembling through her spine. Her knees and breasts quivered, and she found herself biting down moans as rope after rope of jizz blasted out from her flared tip.

After a good twenty seconds of cumming, Twilight’s orgasm finally came to an end. Her sizeable chest heaving, Twilight let her free hand fall down to her crotch. She curved it around her weighty, grapefruit-sized balls and moaned again as she felt how heavy they still were. She’d be doing this again before the day was out.

That was when she noticed the warm water lapping at her ankles. Twilight blinked, then glanced down at her feet. Her thick ropes of spooge had gathered around the shower drain and had, predictably, managed to clog the holes instead of flowing down with the water. The water level just keep rising as more and more of her shower was blocked by the remnants of her overproductive orgasm.

Blushing furiously, Twilight switched the water off. Her horn glowed as she retrieved a pair of towels and a mop from the bathroom closet. Dammit, she told herself, her softening cock lying flaccid against the inside of her thigh. Not again.

Once she’d cleaned up her mess and finished her shower, Twilight slipped into some more comfortable day clothes—Luna had helpfully informed her that baggy pants were unbecoming for a princess, but Twilight needed to cling to some semblance of propriety—and went downstairs. Spike’s muffins were as delicious as her nose had promised, and she’d polished off a good dozen, and was making her way through another half-dozen when he asked her to pick up some things in town for dinner.

So that was how she, the Equestrian Princess of Friendship, found herself pushing a shopping cart around one of Ponyville’s newest marketplaces. It turned out that a local princess was a good tourist attraction, and a few new businesses had moved in to take advantage. At least it made doing the shopping as easy as it’d been in Canterlot, though she still only bought her apples from the Apple farm.

On her way in, she passed a familiar face. “Oh, hi, Big Mac!” she said brightly. Mac blinked up at her and grinned.

“Howdy, Princess,” he said. “What brings you out here?”

“Just some shopping for Spike,” she said, shrugging. The motion had the unfortunate effect of pushing her cleavage a few inches forward, and she quickly let her arms relax. That only let them bounce from the sudden release of support. Thankfully, Big Mac kept his gaze relaxed on her face, rather than her chest, which was all the more welcome for the fact that his gaze only came up to her chest nowadays. “And you don’t have to call me Princess. Just Twilight is fine.”

“Eeyup,” he said, nodding. “Welp, be seein’ you.” He gave her a little wave and plodded back out of the store.

As he went, Twilight couldn’t help her own wandering eye. Built from a lifetime of hard work on the farm, Big Mac’s body was bulging with muscle, perfectly toned and sculpted. His thick arms were all but bursting through his sleeves, and his shoulders flexed through the back of his shirt every time he swung his arms. Twilight found her gaze following his big, flexing rump, and wondered what it might feel like to caress that big, muscular ass, her fingers tracing down his cheeks as her stallionhood—

She instantly flushed and turned back to the store. Her breasts squished slightly against the handle of her cart, but she ignored the feeling of her erect nipples against the cold metal. She also did her best to ignore the snapshot she’d caught before he’d turned around: A big, fat bulge hanging in a pouch between his legs that reached—or even surpassed—the size of her own.

As she walked into the store, she was suddenly aware of the heavy, sloshing balls swaying between her legs, of the big, hardening shaft—Don’t think about it!—slowly pushing against her waistband, and of the bulge she’d seen at Big Mac’s crotch that even surpassed them in size.

She walked, bowlegged, through the entire produce section. Not thinking about it didn’t help. In fact, it only made things worse.

As she made her way through the aisles, Twilight did her best to ignore her steadily growing erection. Instead of snaking its way down her pants, its positioning actually managed to push it up. Twilight stifled a groan as she felt her swollen cock pushing its way past her waistband, making her pants incredibly tight around her hips and waist.

Ignoring it took her mind off of sex, for the most part, but the image of Big Mac’s big, muscular ass just wouldn’t go away. Her boner just kept going, throbbing as it pushed right past her lean, cut stomach. Twilight shuddered with barely suppressed delight as her head just barely brushed against her underboob, and had to steady herself on the cart as she felt the underside of her flare first squeezing through her cleavage.

By the time she’d gotten out of the produce aisle, her throbbing shaft had pushed all the way through her cleavage. Her prominent, flared head was clearly visible, and actually rubbed against the bottom of her chin every time she bent down to place an item in her cart. Twilight noticed that ponies were staring, and her ears flushed.

She thought about going to the bathroom and, ah, relieving herself. Then again, with the amount she’d put out that morning, she really didn’t fancy clogging the toilet and having to explain to the manager why, exactly, his bathroom was overflowing with ripe, virile princess spooge. So she just kept walking, trying to look as innocent and nonsexual as possible as her two-foot-plus tool drooled a steady stream of precum down her shaft. By the time she reached the frozen items, the front of her bra was nearly water—that is, cumlogged—by the sheer amount of pre that had been dripping down her shaft from her aching, needy balls.

Once she’d crossed off every item on her list, Twilight pulled up to the cashier with her full cart. She gave a mental sigh of relief. Her throbbing stallionhood felt just about fit to burst. The sooner she finished up here, the sooner she could get back home and relieve herself. Her fat, aching balls just throbbed even harder at the thought of that wonderful, blessed release.

“H-hello, Princess,” the cashier stammered. The poor little stallion just about came up to Twilight’s cleavage, and so couldn’t miss the massive, flared horsecock rising up below her muzzle. It throbbed as the bottom of Twilight’s chin brushed against it, and he watched as a spurt of precum larger than any one of his own loads splattered noisily against the top of her bust. “Grocery shopping today?”

It was an obvious, awkward question, with an obvious, awkward question. Twilight did her best to grin down at the flustered little stallion as he went about removing her items and noting down the prices.

Though he was focused, ostensibly, on the groceries, the cashier couldn’t help his eyes from darting up to Twilight’s rather impressive chest. With every breath, her chest pushed her breasts a little bit up and forward, causing her massive, soft breasts to engulf her cock with a few more inches of her supple titflesh. When she breathed out, they fell down again, releasing their grip before continuing to masturbate her enormous shaft.

More and more pre drooled from her cock as Twilight bent down to start bagging her groceries. She bit down on a moan and almost came right then and there, the motion forcing her cock even further between her soft breasts as her productive balls swelled and churned with even more seed. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, struggling to hold back the mounting pressure. It was a losing cause. Every time she bent over, she titfucked herself again.

She whimpered softly, the cashier blushing even further as he finished checking the groceries and realized that she wasn’t even bagging anymore. Instead, she was placing the bags back into her cart—but now, almost by reflex, her hips were giving an involuntary jerk every time she bent over and thrust her cock even further through her pillowy breasts.

Twilight bent down to pick up the last bag—and let out a muffled cry as her enormous stallionhood seized up, the soft, warm embrace of her pillowy mounds around her throbbing erection finally driving her over the edge. Her cock throbbed madly as ropes of spooge as thick as her fingers erupted from her lurching flare.

She felt her warm, heavy nuts spasming as they forced what felt like liters of spunk up her shaft and out into the air. Her cock throbbed again and again as her pent-up, impossibly full balls released an equally impossible amount of jizz over her groceries, herself, and the poor cashier.

Leaking pre had given way to massive gobs of spunk, which erupted from Twilight’s vigorously pumping shaft. Her hips jerked wildly, thrusting her enormous tool up into her cleavage again and again as she struggled to milk herself dry. A tidal wave of spooge, it seemed, was flooding forth from her massive flare. Twilight felt her head falling back and let out a long, throaty moan as shocks of pleasure rolled up and down her spine, the sweet euphoria of release overcoming her mind.

As the last thick, gooey spurts of cum erupted from her tip, Twilight felt some bit of lucidity coming back to her. She groaned with pleasure, and, slowly, opened her eyes to a scene right out of Hearth’s Warming Eve.

The entirety of the cashier’s desk and her own cart were absolutely covered with her spunk. Thick gobs of her cum slowly oozed down the sides of the desk, and a furtive glance upwards showed that a sizeable amount had actually wound up on the ceiling. The poor cashier looked like he’d been the victim of a particularly brutal snowstorm.

Twilight felt like she wanted to sink into a hole and die, especially when she felt her happy shaft slowly going flaccid and slipping down her chest. Her cheeks burned with the rest of her as she slowly levitated out her purse from her bags. She felt the entire store’s eyes on her, burning holes in her back.

“This should cover the costs,” she blurted, dumping her entire wallet onto the desk. “Sorry about your uniform.” With that, she grabbed a hold of her cart and all but ran out of the market, her drained balls slapping lightly against her toned thighs with every leap.

Thankfully, she was able to clean off most of her spooge from the groceries before Spike saw them. She wasn’t sure whether he noticed it or not, but at least he didn’t mention the extra-salty taste of the stew that night.

Next time she went out, she resolved, she’d make sure to beat off before heading out the door.

Twice.

Tight [Cadance] [Hyper Ass] [Wide Hips] [Shining] [Big Penis]

Cadance bit her lip, stifling a grunt. Taking in a deep breath, she tightened her grip around the waistband of her pants and gave another heave.

Her chest puffed out, her breasts heaving, she struggled to pull the pants over her ample hips. Any other mare of her height wouldn’t have had a problem fitting into them. But Cadance wasn’t just any mare.

She huffed and gave another forlorn tug. Most of the time, she was grateful for the figure that her ascent to alicornhood had given her. Sometimes, though, she found it incredibly annoying. Today was one of those days.

Her waistband bit deep into her legs, her hipflesh folding down over it as she struggled to force it up. Cadance had never been a fat mare, but alicornhood had improved her figure in other ways; her thick, smooth thighs pushed against one another so tightly that it was difficult to get the fabric between them. She stiffened as she felt them rubbing against one another, and grunted again as she made another fruitless attempt at tugging the pants up and over her waist.

At six feet, four inches, Cadance wasn’t exactly a small mare. Yet even the average mare of her height only ever reached around a thirty-two inch waist. She had one even thinner: twenty-nine inches, tapering off to a perfect hourglass figure around the middle. The pants were, ostensibly, the same measurement. The problem wasn’t her waist. The problem was the rest of the hourglass.

Her bountiful thighs and hips were jiggling now, quivering as the bottoms of her palms bounced off of them in a futile effort to tug her pants just an inch or two higher. She pushed inward, and let out a soft gasp of success when she managed to squeeze her pants up a good half inch—and then groaned in disappointment when a sudden flex of her hips sent her pants back down another two.

Gritting her teeth, she rearranged her grip on her pants and tried a different angle. Reaching behind her back, she actually had to bend her arms at the elbow and lean backwards slightly so that her forearms could reach past her rump. She closed her eyes and gave another heartfelt tug.

Unfortunately, her flank wasn’t quite so accomodating. Even specially modified by a seamstress working at the Crystal Palace, her pants still had a difficult time wrapping around what had been, at the last time of measurement, a fifty-inch rump. Cadance’s lower lip trembled as she struggled against the force of her fat, plush rear, her forearms rubbing in vain against the soft, smooth surface of her cheeks.

Her fingers lost their grip. Her pants, kept in place only by the sheer size of the legs filling them, sagged only slightly against her thighs. Cadance let out a grunt of frustration as her fingers slid upward—and closed around her rear.

She nearly melted right then and there. A mare with...assets of her size tended to be much more sensitive than the average pony, and her rear was no different. She groaned softly, her slender fingers kneading into her soft, plush butt. As frustrating as it was to deal with, it was one of her most prized possessions, not in the least because of the sheer amount of pleasure it gave her. She hefted one of her butt cheeks in her palm, and stifled a moan as she felt it sliding against the other, forcing its generous mass down against the back of her thigh.

A pair of weights settled onto her hips. Cadance was suddenly aware of a warm breathing by her ear. She glanced upward, into the full-body mirror before her, and smiled. Shining Armor’s fingers twitched around her waist, his big hands resting comfortably on her near-horizontal hips.

“Looks like someone’s having some wardrobe trouble,” he said. He chuckled softly. She squirmed, her heart beating a bit faster, as he leaned in even closer. His breath was hot and moist against her ear, and she could feel something long and hard pressing up against the space between her butt cheeks. She let her hands fall to her sides and took a long, deep breath, savoring Shining’s scent.

“Mmhm?” she murmured back. “What might have given you that idea, honey?”

She saw Shining grin at her through the mirror. “Just a hunch,” he said. A beat later, she gave a sudden gasp as she felt him pinch her rear between his fingers. Then his head was curling around her neck, and his cheek was rubbing against hers. She turned her own head and took his lips in her own, their tongues wrestling gently as his hands massaged her generous hips.

She pulled away, a line of saliva still clinging to her muzzle. Her tongue darted out of her mouth to lap it up. She met his gaze, saw his bright blue eyes sparkling. “Morning, honey,” she said, somewhat dreamily.

His lips brushed against hers again. “Morning, sexy,” he said back. His hips twitched against her rump, and she stifled a giggle as she felt his “little Shining” twitch as well.

She raised an eyebrow. “Sexy, huh?” she asked. “Fat lot of good it’s doing me know.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Shining said playfully. “Looks like it’s doing some fat good right now.” He gave her ass another pinch. Cadance feigned horror, then smirked lazily.

“Maybe it’d do me more good if my husband actually helped me out of my current conundrum,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Hm?”

Shining chuckled. “Of course, honey.” He paused to suck briefly on the edge of her earlobe—she all but melted when he did that; gods, that teasing bastard—and then withdrew behind her. He placed his hands on the waistband of her pants.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll pull them up. When they’re all the way there, you’ll have to zipper and button them closed. Sound good?” Cadance nodded. “Three—two—one.”

Cadance winced as he slid the pants up her thighs. It wasn’t a violent movement, and not really a painful one. Still, it was hard to ignore the pinch she felt as her globular ass was forced into a container about four sizes too small.

“You really need—eurgh—to get bigger pants,” Shining grunted.

“Maybe—guh—we can discuss it once I’m not naked,” Cadance growled back.

Her fingers twitched as she felt the seat of her pants slide over the top of her rump, but she managed to find the button and pin it closed all the same. Shining Armor released his grip and Cadance released a heavy breath.

She took a moment to admire her reflection in the mirror. Thankfully, it hadn’t been too difficult to get her shirt on that morning, but a good four inches of cleavage poked through above her neckline. One of Shining’s hands snaked under her armpit and squeezed the bottom of her hefty H-cup; Cadance groaned, her body twitching slightly as he massaged her soft, warm titflesh.

“You sneaky, horny little colt,” she murmured. A smile twitched at her lips, and Shining grinned back.

She traced along the inseam of her pants with a finger, then curved her palm along the outside of her thigh. It was a tight fit, to be sure, but just feeling how tightly packed those pants were still managed to turn her on. Her hand floated over to her rump. She cooed softly at her reflection. Her fingers, spread wide, curved around the side of her hips, then came down to rest gently on her big, juicy ass. She hefted her weight to the side and turned a few degrees, lifting her rear to better see it in the mirror. Biting her lip, she traced along the contours of her cheek, breathing hard as she felt it squish beneath her fingertips.

She felt another squeeze at her bust, and she turned and pounded a fist against Shining’s chest. “You’re incorrigible,” she said.

He grinned goofily at her. “I can’t help it if my wife is so sexy.”

She kissed him again. He told her that every day, but she’d be damned if she didn’t like hearing it more every time. Her fingers traced along the inside of his leg, playfully massaging the bulge snaking down his thigh. “I see you got your pants on easily enough.”

His grin became wolfish. “It wasn’t easy, especially when I’m sharing living room with a butt that big.”

So he wanted to play like that, hm? Well; she could oblige. “You saying my butt’s big?” she purred.

“Maybe,” he said. He gasped when he felt her palm brush up against his crotch.

“So my husband likes big-butted mares,” she purred. She pressed herself against him, her nipples squishing against his broad, firm chest. Her hips swayed gently, her thighs rubbing against his. He groaned, whimpering softly as she played with him.

“Call my butt big, hm?” she said. “Maybe next you’ll be saying that I’ve got a fat butt.” She growled playfully, then laid a chaste kiss on his chin. Her skillfull, practiced fingers trailed along the length of his bulge, his meaty python throbbing against the pant leg. He was all but putty in her hands now: a willing, groaning slave to his lusts if she so much as crooked her finger. She had him in her palm and he knew it. “Is that what you like? A big, thick mare, with a big, fat ass—”

Shining Armor moaned. His tool seized up beneath Cadance’s grip. Licking her lips and smirking, Cadance slowly pulled her hand away as Shining’s hips jerked and twitched, his bulge lurching as rope after rope of his seed spurted out down the side of his leg.

Breathing heavily, Shining groaned. Cadance grinned at the sight of a good few cups of cum leaking out of the end of his leg, draining onto the floor and—undoubtedly—staining the carpet. She didn’t mind, though. It was worth it, to tease him like this.

“Damn it,” he gasped, shuddering again as she suckled lightly on his collarbone. “These were my good pants.”

Cadance pulled her muzzle away and laughed. “I guess that’s one problem when you’re married to a mare of my size,” she said, meeting his eyes. “You can never quite...control yourself.”

She gave his bulge another squeeze and Shining grunted, another generous spurt of hot, thick cum flooding his pantleg.

“Now I’ve gotta change,” he whimpered. “I’ll be late for the morning drills.”

Cadance kissed him on the lips. “Maybe next time you’ll think before making fun of a mare’s figure,” she purred.

He pulled her in for another kiss. “Gods,” he breathed, “but you’re turning me on like this.”

She returned it, hungrily. “Not now,” she said. “We’ve both got too much to do.”

“Tonight?”

Her lips twitched. “Maybe,” she said. “I might even bring something to spice it up a bit.” Or someone.

“You tease,” Shining said. “You terrible, awful tease.”

She winked. “Just for you, my horny little stallion.” Another kiss. His lips were warm on hers, and she had to remind herself that she couldn’t let herself go now. There’d be time enough for sexiness later. Her eyes darted down to his crotch and she had to chuckle. “Or my horny ‘big’ stallion, maybe.”

“Big enough for you, I hope,” he said.

She slapped her rump, and shivered as it jiggled madly in its tight prison. “With an ass this big?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I should certainly hope so.”