And Then They Blanked!

So, I wrote this in response to all of those 4chan /mlp/ threads about which pony anons would most like to marry and have kids with, threads that Applejack usually wins or comes a close second in. It's sort of a present to those anons, I guess. Thanks for reading.

The wisps of light popping out of the bottom of the fancy yet functional peach curtains run across your face, stirring you ever so slightly. You bring your right hand to your face and give it a scratch for a moment as you make a small yawn. Your hazy eyes open up and drink in your surroundings, moving from the curtains to the various homely knickknacks on your dresser and nightstand to the country-style accouterments on the walls (the steel salamander and five pointed iron star your only input) over to the treasure in your arms.

Applejack wakes up just seconds after you do, her beautiful green eyes turning right over to your face. You know that you've gotten lost in those eyes countless times. You nudge your legs off of her bottom hooves, giving her a little more space, as the blanket starts to slide off of both your bodies. She lets out a teasing noise as she moves herself over onto the pillows to your left, getting completely out of the clasping, total embrace that you both had slept in. Her long, flowing yellow mane caresses all along your neck and chest.

You had good dreams, pleasant memories of your life back on Earth, but nothing ever feels as good as waking up to this. You flash back for a second to your wedding night, a crazy moment for sure that surprised a lot of Ponyville residents both equine and human. Life had felt so amazing before that night, being welcomed so openly as well as realizing to your shock that human encounters had almost become routine for ponies, but from the moment of that celebration of your love onward somehow dreams have become pointless.

Applejack's front hooves brush against your left arm, moving down over to your hand before your fingers grasp her tightly. Your sleepy feelings almost cleaned out of your system, you smile and make a happy grunt. She smiles back. Her features seem so perfect, from her pretty freckles to her cute cheeks and everywhere else. You glance down at the huge bump beneath her chest, and you feel even happier.

"I was gonna get you a 'good mornin' breakfast', sugarcube," Applejack murmurs, finally kicking off the blanket totally off of you both, "but it's lookin' like you can't even wait 'till we get to the kitchen." She makes a half-blush as her body nudges against yours, your bare chest rubbing against her bright orange back.

"Can't wait," you repeat, not quite putting two and two together. She doesn't reply. She merely rolls halfway over, moving your attention downwards from her wonderful face onto your own body.

A tinge of pleasure goes off through you as you feel the area between your legs being nudged ever so gently. You blink, trying to sit up a bit straighter in the bed. Your eyes reflexively blink from the happy sensations, but you can still make out Applejack poising with her baby bump against your own belly.

"My, my, more than ready?" she teasingly asks, ears perking forwards. Your morning wood juts out underneath your grey striped shorts, rubbing against every inch of Applejack's baby bump as she slides up and down your side.

You can hardly think. You merely grunt in approval as your shorts seem to almost flop off by themselves. Applejack twists her body around your left leg, bringing herself halfway on top of you, and her belly presses down hard against your manhood. Pleasures amp up across your body. Your hands shift down and begin caressing her neck and shoulders. She's already flopped her brilliant mane along your cheeks, making you bask in her apple-tinged, savory scent.

She grinds your manhood against her precious bump as a huge, satisfied smile rips across her face. She looks absolutely radiant, the sunlight now scattering across her features. Sparkles of magical love seem to go off all across her head and shoulders.

"Oh, gosh," you mutter as she nudges herself completely on top of you, ready to ride like a cowgirl on a wild mustang. She leans over and buries one of her hooves on your chest, your fingers instinctively clutching along the tip. Another hoof holds back your throbbing hard manhood against her baby bump. She rubs your thing all around in amazing spiral motions-- going left and right as well as up and down, making you moan at the waves of bliss going through you.

Your pre-cum has already left a thin white trail of love across Applejack's swollen belly. You sense something warm and wet against your right thigh, and you know that she's loving this just as well. "You've, ah, you've," she murmurs, leaning down with your face less than an inch away from hers, "been nudgin' me there already, sugarcube. Been like that almost all night."

It's your turn to blush. Yet Applejack doesn't hesitate for another second. She presses forwards and gives you a wonderfully sloppy kiss, her lips moving all around yours. You feel her tongue playing around the inside of your mouth, giving you such a brilliant taste like fresh apple piles boiling with a magical energy.

And your hands seem to have lives of your own as they dance all along Applejack's perfect orange body. Her hooves do the same, finally coming to a rest against your chest. The kiss goes on, leading you both into a temporary trance of sheer pleasure. Your thigh already feels soaking wet, and both of you know that the play won't go on for much longer. Still, you keep on making out with her, playing a little game of who'll hold out the longest.

You lose, her bump suddenly sliding across the tip of your manhood in a way that shifts the pleasure into high gear and sets off alarm bells. Breaking the kiss, you sit up even straighter in the bed, leading Applejack to stand her body right over the area between your legs. Both her front hooves press against your palms as your fingers grip them tightly.

"Ain't no way 'round it, then," she goes on, arching her eyebrows and lowering her voice, "since I'm so happy that you think I'm more beautiful now than ever before."

You can't count how many times you've said that over these past several weeks. Getting a good look at your wife's whole body in all its majesty, you feel your heart start to melt. The sunlight seems to disregard the shut blinds entirely, and something like an aura of love shines from the tip of her mane along to the end of her tail. Applejack looked like a perfect ten before as you spent night after night in romantic pursuit, trying every last corny trick in the book from poetry to chocolates. However, her upcoming motherhood unlocked something extraordinary. Every single orange curve, every shapely spot on her body seems to set you ever aflame with desire.

It all feels like a chain of pure miracles in the first place. Twilight had just showed up unannounced one fateful day months ago at your Ponyville ranch, newly built a ways out of Ponyville where Applebloom had accidentally planted some very lush pear trees, and brought a funky looking pink serum that Twilight had "extracted" from Pinkie Pie's "essence" somehow, claiming that it's law's-of-physics-breaking abilities could make your insides "accomidate" the "non-human subatomic background" of planet Equestria.

You and your then-mere-marefriend had laughed in Twilight's face. Then, it somehow had worked, making you just the second human that Twilight said could safely stay in Equestria "forever". Pinkie threw a party in celebration, of course, joking that if you transformed into another Pinkie after a serum overdose than she could always adopt you. And at some point during that party, you had knelt with something in your hands, and Applejack had started to cry.

And then Applejack had said that, although things had changed so much in her life, she still kind of, sort of, in the back of mind... wanted to have foals someday.

And then Twilight had wondered about the projected effects if a pony were to take a dosage of "extract of Pinkie".

And then Applejack had come out of Nurse Redheart's office with a look of sheer bewilderment mixed with total joy on her face.

"Ready!" Applejack calls out in a suddenly strong voice, snapping you back to full attention. You simply nod as you help her lock her back hooves against your sides and her front hooves in your hands. Mindful of the precious cargo inside of her, you brace for taking things as slow and easy as possible. Her mane rolls across her chest as her lip quivers in anticipation.

And she presses herself upon you. Your wife tilts her head back in total bliss, shooting out a hot breath as she shifts herself down inch by inch even closer. Your fingers rub up her hooves as pleasure explodes all through your senses. In what feels like hours, she's finally taken herself all the way to the base.

You can hardly take the insanely hot, tight sensations. She's already gripped you like a vice between her legs, and she bobs her body left and right against your thighs. Sweat just pours all through her mane and tail, slipping down her sides, and she starts to moan repeatedly. You can barely think as she takes full control, though she hardly had been passive to being with, by slapping her hooves against your skin and pounding your body into the bed-sheets. You feel ready to go at any second from the bliss-soaked wet burn inside her flanks, but you hold on for the ride as her moans turn almost into roars.

Your mind drifts in and out of consciousness as your wife works you, trying to pace her pumps as she remains mindful of her baby bump. You flash from the past to the present, shifting second by second. Twilight had warned you once upon a time about those powerful hormones. Twilight had talked about the sharpened desires and sheer heat, physical and emotional, that would result from having a chemically-enhanced, hormone drenched pregnancy, from pushing up to almost unsafe levels the internal transfiguration that had made Applejack compatible with you in the first place. The cocktails of drugs taste so sweet for both of you, putting you both on edge day after day whether you find relief or not.

"Oh, Celestia, please," Applejack cries out, half-collapsing upon your right side. You hold her up and carefully hold her baby bump still, her flanks pulling almost completely out of you for a second. She shivers, total bliss rippling along every inch of her body, as she buries your face with her mane.

Yet she slides herself back down upon you hardly a second later, letting out a torrent of "oohs" as her hooves clamor against your chest and belly. You grimace in one part pain and four parts joy as her marehood grips you snugly between your legs once again. Her mouth hangs open as she gazes over at your face, eyes looking wide as hubcaps. You wonder exactly how many multiple climaxes she can stand, maximum doses of motherly hormones boiling through her senses.

Just a few months ago, you woke up to Applejack knocking you completely out of bed and shoving you onto the wall, thrusting her backside upon you as if you were merely a wall-mounted toy. And you returned the favor on the kitchen table, picking her up and prostrating her upon the piles of flower, sugar, milk, and everything else and rutting her without restraint while licking breakfast off of her. She half-joking called them her wife-ly duties. But then she had gotten the happy news that he crazy scheme had actually worked.

At this late stage, sensual moments together have gotten far more erratic, albiet far more passionate. Now, she's straining to pace her moves upon your manhood, ever mindful of the special cargo in her belly as she twists on top of you. You probably should think about thanking Mrs. Cake for giving Applejack advice yesterday, especially as awkwardly as Applejack had put the questions. But you can't think much anymore. Your only world is Applejack herself, sitting right on top of you right at this moment. Her mane. Her face. Her moans. Her moves.

"Celestia! I can feel-- feel, oh, gosh!" Applejack suddenly barks out, grabbing your hands and pulling them to her sides. Your fingers press against her fur. "Oh, Celestia, he's kickin'. He's kickin'."

You sense the little moves inside her bump, and you just let out a breath before nodding. Well past the point of being able to talk, you feel ready to erupt at any moment. Her flanks keep on grinding your manhood; the powerful pleasures keep on overwhelming your senses.

"He's kickin'," Applejack murmurs, and she shifts her head down, meeting you eye to eye. Her hooves keep your fingers locked tight against her bump. "He always kicks when you're right beside me. He always knows you're around." She grits her teeth as tears well up beneath her eyes. Her voice shifts into some kind of stricken, half-scream. "He loves you! He loves you so much!"

You just release a loud growl in response, about to totally lose it.

"Loves-- so-- much!" Applejack hollers. And you empty yourself. Ecstasy surges through your senses and just seems to bring your whole world to a halt. You can hardly seem to breathe, the powerful feelings just stacking up one upon the other. Her whole body quakes upon yours, her hooves crashing against your legs. She seems to nearly fall off the bed, tossed over to the right across you upon the hunk of pillows.

She pants hard as she rolls over further onto the pillows. You swallow, arching your back for a second with your wife's weight finally off you, and slowly but surely climb down. Pleasure still coursing through your body, you slid your legs over and gently put them down upon the carpet. You still have your eyes on Applejack the whole time, loving her sensual noises that she can't help but make with every move.

She scoots over besides you, her bottom hooves stepping down besides yours, and she taps her belly with pride. You watch as she rubs the sticky white film off of her bump with one front hoof and off of her marehood with another. You hesitate, not sure what she has in mind, but she simply licks it all up with those talented lips of hers before pressing against you for another kiss.

"It's going to be a good day," you declare for no particular reason. She stands up, hints of another blush creeping along her cheeks, and opens up the blinds completely. You watch her seductive twists with each step.

"Shower?" she asks.

"Shower," you reply.

She heads on over to the bathroom, her tail swishing playfully.

"It's going to be a very good day," you mutter, smiling brightly.

The End