Ding-dong.
Another trick-or-treater. It’s been a good night for them so far—this is your fiftieth one tonight. Probably. You haven’t exactly been doing the best job of keeping track. Then again, from the way the few remaining pieces of candy rattle around the bowl as you scoop it up, you’ve been working overtime tonight.
As you make your way over to the door, you glance over at the clock on the wall. Huh. It’s past ten. Awful late for most trick-or-treaters. Maybe it’s some teens, or a bunch of college students from downtown. Or maybe—
The handle clicks open beneath your thumb, and the door swings open. Standing on your doorstep, clad in the most revealing costume you’ve seen tonight, is Fluttershy.
She’s certainly dressed up for the Nightmare Night spirit. You’ve seen more than one “sexy devil”, “sexy witch”, or “sexy kitty” tonight. Fluttershy’s outfit, though, takes them all by storm.
A pair of white, poofy ears stick out from a headband around her head, just beside her regular ears which are twitching madly. She’s less wearing clothes than a bikini. Her “top” is made out of thin, purple fabric, outlined in jagged gold trim. It curls around her neck before dropping down below her bust, coming up to cover the front of her bust and no more.
Her “assets”, easily that you’ve ever seen, have been freed from the confines of her customary turtlenecks for what may be the first time. A pair of huge, pillowy knockers hangs down her chest, covering the top half of her stomach. Aside from the fronts, they’re almost entirely bare: two masses of soft, yellow titflesh that you feel a sudden urge to squeeze.
You can’t entirely decide what she’s supposed to be. A sexy bunny? A Playcolt model? But that almost doesn’t matter. You’ve noticed the part of her that’s below her bust, and you’re rapidly losing interest in anything above her waist.
It’s not that you don’t like—no; love—her chest. You’ve seen her outsize other mares for years, her “girls” always straining against the thick fabric of her overly conservative shirts. To see them released, freed like this—well; it suffices to say that they’re quite a bit bigger than you’ve imagined. And you’ve imagined them many times. But as your gaze traces down her bare hips and thighs, you come to notice something entirely unexpected.
She’s not holding any bag or sack for candy. Instead, a pumpkin-shaped bowl is hanging at her crotch, positioned just over the slender curls of an equally “concealing” thong. The thick curves of her thighs push the bowl forward toward you. You notice that it’s overflowing with candy. Evidently, Fluttershy has had a profitable night.
And, as your eyes widen and take in the sight above it, it’s not hard to see the reason why.
Sticking up out of the center of the bowl, pushing the candies aside with its girth, is a long, hard stallionhood. It pushes up past her nipples, its length nestled comfortably between her cleavage. A fat medial ring wider than your upper arm bulges out at the center, while the base vanishes into the sea of sweets.
As you watch, your mouth slightly agape, it throbs. A drop of pre the size of a golf ball beads at the top, then bursts. A line of clear, sweet-smelling liquid streams down the sides of member, making it slick and shiny in the dim porch light. You swallow, something in your own pants stirring as you look back up at her face.
She’s blushing—heavily, in fact, but that’s the norm for Fluttershy. Then again, anypony would be flustered after showing up to a stallion’s house with a fat erection poking up against their near-nude body. She’s biting her lip, and it’s the cutest little expression, her little white teeth poking up above her full lips. Just above her rosy-red cheeks lie her half-lidded eyes. A long, thick strand of her pink mane covers a good third of her face, but in the parts of her expression that you can see, there’s a clear, visible hunger. Her pupils are dilated slightly, and her cute dimples poke outward with a genial, reddish glow.
You clear your throat. Swaying slightly, you swallow and say, “Uh. Happy Nightmare Night, Fluttershy.”
“Oh, it is, isn’t it?” Fluttershy held her hands to her chest, her ample titflesh squishing slightly beneath the backs of her palms. “Twilight and Rarity were so proud of me. I was scared to come out, but Rarity said that a proper costume might help me feel more confident.” She held her hands at her hips and did a little twirl. Three hundred and sixty degrees later, your eyes are fixed steadily on her big, bouncing boobs. “What do you think?”
Your mouth goes dry. “I think you look great,” you say, hoping you sound steadier than you feel. “Beautiful, even. I really like it.”
She giggles. Her blush flares up a bit. “Oh, good. I was afraid I might be too scary.”
“Scary?” you say. You’re struggling to keep your eyes on her face, rather on the rest of her. “Fluttershy, you could never be scary. You’re too sweet.”
You didn’t think she could blush any more, but she does. “O-oh,” she says. She takes a step toward you. Her breasts sway in time with her cock; it throbs, another glob of pre bursting between her cleavage. You stiffen as she stops, mere inches away from you. Her flare is nearly brushing against your own chest.
“Oh, thank you,” she murmurs. She smiles cutely at you and brings her hands up to rest on the top of her bosom. “I-is there any other part of me that you like?”
Your eyes dart down again, helpless, toward her crotch. Her smile twitches, and she inclines her head slightly downward. “Y-you can take a closer look,” she says softly. “That is, if you want to.”
And boy, but do you ever want to. Even in the corner of your eye, it dominates your vision, filling up your lower peripheral gaze as much as that massive bust. You open your mouth to respond, then think better of looking a gift horse in the mouth—or, as it happens, crotch—and instead slowly sink to your knees.
Kneeling like this, the top of your head only comes up to around the bottom of her bust. Her length sticks a good five inches above you, filling your vision entirely. Hesitantly, you reach out toward it, then pause. Only when Fluttershy nods timidly down at you do you reach fully forward and take hold of her thick member.
It really is thick—you can’t even fully close your hand around it. Your fingers clench around the sides, your thumb rubbing gently against a thick, protruding vein. Fluttershy squeaks softly at the contact, then lets out a quiet, adorable moan as you slide your hand up toward her flare. The surface is warm, even hot, and is slick with her dripping precum. Your palm slides easily across her girth, her member pulsating slightly beneath your touch.
“I-I wanted to show you,” Fluttershy mumbled. “T-to ask you. Rarity said you might like it more if it was—I mean, if I was wearing a costume with it.”
You take a deep breath, inhaling her scent. Her musk, as thick as any stallion’s and more, fills your lungs. It’s tinted, though, mixed with the flowery feminine sweetness of Fluttershy that you’ve always known and recognized. As you continue to massage her length with one hand, your other trails down the side of the pumpkin bowl and beneath it.
She squeaks again when you find her balls: a pair of warm, fat orbs hanging just beneath her candy haul. Each one must be the size of a grapefruit, heavy and full of her seed. You give one a squeeze and she all but melts in your grasp. You think you can actually feel the seed sloshing around inside her huge nuts and flush furiously. Your crotch is stiffer than it’s ever been. You can actually feel your underwear growing a bit damp.
As you massage her nuts, you glance back up at her huge flare. It stands proud above you at easily twice the height of your own stallionhood, and more than twice the girth. You swallow, feeling a moistening in your gums as you gaze up at her. You don’t even realize how hungry the expression on your face is until Fluttershy giggles.
“You know,” she says, a bit timidly. She sounds a bit stronger, though, a bit more confident. “You can, um, taste it if you really want to.”
You don’t have to be told twice. Your muzzle slightly agape, you lean forward. You barely have to move your head at all before her hips jerk slightly, pushing her flare down to prod against your lips.
You kiss her head, feeling the warmth of the precum moistening your lips. Then you let your lips part and your tongue dart out, lapping at the slick shine around Fluttershy’s flare. She groans as you lick the pre covering her member, then sways slightly as you open your mouth even wider around her flare.
You’re not entirely sure how you plan to take all of her in your mouth—it seems impossible; her girth is plainly immense—yet somehow, your muzzle manages to stretch all the way around her head. Fluttershy’s body goes erect as you take her into your mouth. You widen your jaw a bit more, tenderly shifting your tongue and gums around her girth as you swallow more of her length. Fluttershy sighs, her thighs and arms trembling with pleasure.
A spurt of precum breaks on the back of your throat. Before you know it, you’re gulping it down, almost eagerly. She tastes good: sweet and salty, mixed with a tangy, feminine taste. And this is only the appetizer.
Fluttershy cries out, biting down harder on her lip as your lips push further down her shaft. She throbs in your mouth as you work her further and further past your gums. Your nostrils flare, taking in more air now that her fat cock is clogging up your mouth. You don’t care, though. You don’t care about anything so long as Fluttershy is filling your muzzle. Your tongue wraps lovingly around her member, swishing along her underside as she whimpers in helpless pleasure.
You keep pushing, swallowing her length greedily as more of her precum drips down your esophagus. You can’t go all the way, but by the time her flare has pushed past your tonsils, your throat is starting to feel awfully tight—and Fluttershy is moaning steadily.
You start to pump your lips up and down her shaft. As you swallow her cock again and again, your hands go to work on her fat nutsack. You massage her balls, letting the soft, sweaty musk of her cum-laden orbs surround your fingers. Fluttershy’s whole body sways; your eyes dart up, and you realize that she’s kneading her huge breasts like dough, her fingers sinking deep into her gallons of titflesh.
“O-oh,” she pants. Sweat is beading on her forehead. ‘O-oh, my. I’m close. Oh, my, I’m close. I’m going to—I’m going to—oh!”
Her cute yelp pitches up into a shriek and you feel her heavy nuts stop churning. Then you feel her fat shaft bulge enormously in your mouth. Your eyes widen as your jaw cracks around her girth, her expanding member making more room for the flood to come.
Fluttershy cries out, her hips jerking forward as she spills her load into you. You gulp it down as fast as you can, but it seems there’s always more. Rope after rope of her hot, thick cream shoots down your throat directly into your stomach, filling you up more than all of the candy snacks you’ve snuck this evening. You keep massaging her balls, milking her for every drop as she cums harder than you’ve ever imagined possible.
By the she’s finished, a thin line of white has dribbled out of the sides of your muzzle. There was just too much for you to swallow it all. You pull back, her shaft slipping out between your lips with a wet-sounding pop. You groan and shift your weight back onto your thighs. Your belly sloshes with her seed, pushing a bit against the bottom of your shirt. A few tablespoons of her seed, whatever you couldn’t catch in your throat, has dripped down the sides of her shaft, staining some of her candy white.
Fluttershy is breathing heavily. Groaning slightly, she lifts a hand and wipes her forehead dry. Then she reaches down to you; after blinking stupidly for a moment, you take her hand and help yourself up. You hop to your feet and give her a red-faced, beaming smile.
Somehow, the awkwardness has all evaporated away. Fluttershy is still flushed, but there’s a smile tugging at her face, and a glimmer of gratefulness in her eyes. “Goodness,” she says. “That was—ooh, very good.”
You swish your tongue around in your mouth and catch another glob of her cum. You swallow it down and give her a grin. Your teeth are, of course, perfectly white. You wipe another rope of her seed off your cheek and say, “Glad to, uh, hear it. It felt really good.”
She smiles at you. “So,” Fluttershy says. “I guess that was the trick?”
“Huh?”
“Trick-or-treat.” She smiles knowingly up at you.
“Oh!” You blink, then chuckle. Stepping back inside, you gesture toward the inside of your house. “Why don’t you come in?” you ask. “I’ve still got plenty of treats for you to enjoy.”
