The Second Time Around

The next several days passed in a near blur for Plywood. He, along with Hazelnut, had taken to seeing the sights of the City of Flights, exploring some of the more notable landmarks and locations in the famous floating metropolis. Their excursions lasted long into the night, and ever since his rather vigorous session with Hazel (which had left them both very sore but extremely satisfied the next morning), the two had not retained enough energy nor had enough time for further intimacy. Ply, however, honestly believed that the mere memory of that exciting night would be enough; indeed, the sight of his self-trussed wife had been burned into his mind almost instantaneously, an image that he revisited often even while they toured the city. Whenever he recalled the events of that night, he would look over at his bride and smile softly; he truly was a fortunate stallion to have a wife that dedicated to him, as evidenced by her selfless act. He had fallen in love all over again.

Finally, the night before their scheduled departure arrived, and Plywood was more excited than usual as the couple ventured out of the hotel and into a cart, ready to transport them to the fabulous Licks-or hotel and theater. Las Pegasus was renowned for its theaters, and of all the acts that performed in them, the one that was recommended more than any other was Cirque du Celestia. Plywood, at the encouragement of Hazelnut, had acquired tickets for one of their shows, and now that the time for the show had rolled around, he and his wife took their seats in the auditorium, innumerable ponies surrounding them, and prepared for an evening of excellent entertainment.

To hear about the Cirque du Celestia troupe was one thing; the promise of acrobatic stunts, high-flying fun, and a stage show with no rival was certainly enough to get anypony's heart racing a little faster in anticipation, especially if that pony happened to hail from a small town almost on the other side of Equestria. To see the performance live, however, was an entirely different experience. More than once, Ply became so enamored by the myriad of colors, sights, and incredible acts on the stage before him that his jaw hung open wide, a fact that he only became aware of when he felt a slight dribble of drool running out of the corner of his mouth. Invariably, he would subtly lick up the escaping saliva and reseal his lips, only for the performers to pull off yet another unbelievable feat of daring that would leave him slack-jawed and staring.

The athletes told the story of Nightmare Moon's rebellion and banishment, and Ply could scarcely recall a more memorable recount of the ancient tale. Pegasi soared through the auditorium, zooming over the heads of the crowd at times as they looped and barrel-rolled and dove towards the stage, pulling up at the last possible second to swoop back across the sea of patrons, loud gasps emanating from the audience members who felt as though they could lift their hooves and touch the lithe bodies that zoomed past them. Unicorns utilized unique spells, creating swirls of magical color that slithered all around the stage, expanding and contracting and changing hues before bursting into a million tiny specks of light, only to be born anew by their casters. Earth ponies tumbled and dove, some clutching swinging trapezes with their teeth at the last possible second while others ran on spinning wheels that rotated on an axis, leaping through what looked like empty air only to be caught and spun around some more. Each act portrayed the events seamlessly, the show never becoming too over-the-top or gaudy while at the same time holding the audience spellbound and breathless, desperate for the next part of the show to wow them.

At last, the performance closed with a flourish, Celestia gathering the Elements of Harmony to seal Luna in her lunar prison. With several final, breathtaking stunts, the last brushstroke of a masterful work of art was laid to the canvas, and as one, the crowd rose to their hooves and cheered wildly, stomping the floor in a cacophony of raucous applause. Ply shouted his approval and stamped eagerly, but his face fell when he looked to his right and saw Hazelnut, the only noticeable exception to the audience's seemingly unanimous declaration of praise. Her eyes were fixed on the stage, but her hooves remained firmly planted on the floor, a look of deep contemplation that bordered on sadness etched on her face. The earth pony slowed his own applause, his brow furrowing as he observed his mate's lack of cheer; he wasn't angry or upset at her silent demeanor, only confused and concerned for her. Her head swung around to look at him, and her mouth stretched into a weak smile of reassurance. He tilted his head to the side with wide, questioning eyes, not wanting to battle the crowd for noise dominance, and she responded with a slight nod to him before returning her gaze to the bowing performers. She gave a few halfhearted stomps, almost as if she was only attempting to appease him, and Ply finally peeled his eyes away from her to shower further accolades onto the performers. His heart, however, was no longer in the cheers and whistles; now, it was with the mare next to him.

The ride home was silent, almost uncomfortably so, as Plywood wrestled with the words to say to his wife. She seemed content to snuggle close to his body in the back seat of the cart as it rolled through the cloud-paved streets, his foreleg wrapped around her withers and her hoof gently stroking the thick coat on his barrel. Upon arrival back at the hotel, and with a quick tip and “Thank you” to the driver, Ply disembarked from the public transportation and walked quietly back up to the familiar honeymoon suite, Hazelnut beside him the whole way but still not speaking. Her look had evolved from its original forlorn state to something that seemed more determined, more focused, and Ply had to admit, he was having a hard time cracking the code of his wife's shifting facial expressions. He hoped that the confines of the room would allow him some insight into her perplexing mental state.

Less than a second after the door had closed, he suddenly found himself with a face full of mane, his wife's scent wafting into his nostrils as her hooves wrapped around his withers and the side of her head pressed against his neck. For a moment, he froze, unsure of what was going on, but he soon returned the embrace, a smile creeping onto his face as he hugged Hazel close to his body. His eyebrow rose in concern, however, when he felt her body shudder beneath him, and she drew in a gasping breath. He pulled his head back, determined to look Hazel in the eye, and she did the same, confirming his suspicion: Glistening tears trickled down her cheeks. He immediately frowned in concern. “Hazel, honey, what's the matter?”

She looked up at him, her eyes moist with the fresh tears, but the corners of her mouth were turned up in a smile. Between light sobs, she answered him. “I've just been...doing some thinking.”

He brought his hoof up to brush a tear from her cheeks. “About what? What's wrong?”

She sniffled twice, and he waited patiently until she was ready to speak. At last, she regained enough composure to form sentences. “I've just thought about this last week. Everywhere we've been, everything we've seen; it's all been so incredible, so unbelievable. I mean, we got a room next to a princess, for goodness' sake!” She chuckled lightly, though he knew it wasn't from the heart. “This city...all the sights...after seeing that beautiful show tonight, it just made me realize that there's so much out there in Equestria that I haven't seen, and I might not ever see.”

Ply's face fell, but before he could speak, she continued, “But at the same time, I also realized that...well...I don't care if I see all those things.” His confusion returned as she went on. “Las Pegasus has been just wonderful, and I've loved every day we've been here, but...” She drifted off, her thought interrupted by a sniffle.

His hoof slid from her cheek to her chin, and he tilted her head up, gazing deep into her eyes. “I've had a wonderful time here too, Hazel, but it wasn't because I was in Las Pegasus. Sure, we've seen some amazing things, but the reason I've enjoyed myself is because of the pony that's been beside me the entire time.” He leaned in and lightly kissed the tip of her horn, causing the mare before him to shiver slightly. “It just wouldn't have been the same without you.”

“That's exactly it,” she said, her smile growing a bit. “It took us coming all this way, to a strange, new, humongous city for me to see that my life is just...perfect.” She stepped close to him, once more wrapping a hoof around his withers and pulling him close to her body. “And it's because I'm with the perfect stallion. I'll be honest, I wasn't sure about how this week would go when you first told me about it, but now, near the end, I have to admit, the second time around's been even better than the first.” She nuzzled against his neck. “I love you, Plywood.”

He squeezed her tight. “I love you too, Hazelnut.” For a while, he was content to stand there, his foreleg wrapped around his wife and hers around him, no sound but their breathing present in the honeymoon suite. His thoughts drifted to the mare before him, and he began to travel back in time, to a small woodworking shop in Maneitoba, over twenty-five years ago...

***

Plywood exhaled hard, the dust from his latest project kicking up and swirling around the work room. He surveyed the newly-constructed end table with pride, softly muttering, “Now just need to paint it and give it some finish, and it'll be ready to go.” He had received the order from one of his neighbors only two days ago, but since his schedule wasn't very full, he had been able to dedicate more time to the small project, and he was determined to make it look perfect. After all, there was a reason he didn't have many more jobs lined up: His shop, having just opened up, was still struggling to find business in his relatively small town. Ply was confident, however, that Maneitoba would have plenty of work for him, if he stayed patient. The stallion with a hammer and a two-by-four on his flank tried not to let his mind drift to his dwindling bank account, instead focusing on the task at hoof.

A noise from the other room grabbed his attention as the tinkle of the bell on the door indicated the presence of a customer. His workroom was separated from the other room by nothing more than a door-shaped hole in the wall, and he quickly put down his supplies and trotted into the main room, ready to receive potential business. Because of that, his smile was wide and genuine as he stepped through the opening and proudly stated, “Welcome to Plywood's Woodworking Shop. How can I help you today?” His head had been held high, his eyes shut, but he froze when he opened them, his front leg locked in mid-step and his jaw hanging slightly open.

He had been prepared to see one of the many residents of Maneitoba striding through the front door, likely with some minor task or quick repair that he could take care of within a day. What he was not prepared for was the sight of a light brown unicorn mare with a wavy auburn mane stepping into the store, the bell chiming softly again as the door closed behind her. What he was very unprepared for were two additional facts: First, he knew this mare, though he certainly remembered her a little shorter and not as lean. Second, she was absolutely stunning. As she turned to face him, he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, much louder than he should have. “Hazel!”

She looked up at him with that same smile he recalled from many years ago, though the sight of it had never made his heart flutter quite like that before. Her voice, smooth and silken, drifted to his ears. “Well Ply, it looks like you've got a nice little setup here.”

After a second more of dumbfounded staring, he found his bearings and managed to close his mouth long enough to breathe in and speak in a much more normal tone of voice, his cheeks flushing slightly red at her compliment. “Heh, thanks. Yeah, it isn't much, but it's what I love to do, so here I am.” He stepped out from behind the front counter, never tearing his gaze from the mare who had suddenly stepped back into his life after two – or was it three? – years away. “But what about you? I had no idea you were coming back to town! How long are you here?”

Her grin faded slightly, and he got the sudden feeling that he'd done something terribly wrong. In a soft tone, she answered, “It looks like I'll be back here for a while, actually. I kinda...dropped out of culinary school.”

He took a step closer, now only inches from the beautiful but forlorn unicorn. “What happened?”

“Some of the professors and I had...different ideas about what constituted a suitable dish,” she said with a slight smirk, though her eyes betrayed her sadness. “My specialty was never food, anyway, but there's no school dedicated to ponies whose talent lies with mixing non-alcoholic drinks. Honestly, I'm better off studying from home.”

Ply nodded in understanding; Hazelnut didn't have a cutie mark of a steaming cup of coffee for nothing. He could still remember the strong cups of the bitter black liquid that she brewed while only in high school, adding all manner of flavors (including her namesake) to make them taste incredible. She had made coffee drinkable, a feat he would never have thought possible, and even at that age, he'd been most impressed with her ability. Her decision to study at a culinary school in Canterlot, however, had been risky at best, and now, it appeared as though that particular path of higher education was not the road she would travel. He reached up a hoof and patted her shoulder sympathetically. “Sorry to hear that, Hazel.”

She gave a little shrug and tossed her head, her mane bouncing in the same direction. Ply's heart skipped another beat; at this rate, he was in danger of some kind of attack. Hazel responded, “Eh, it's all right. It's good to be back in my old stomping grounds again, see all the familiar faces.” She looked up and locked her gaze on his, her dark blue eyes holding him in place. She hasn't just grown up, the stallion thought, she's gorgeous now. He'd entertained the thought of asking her out when they were in school together, but he had always considered her to be above him, a pony dedicated to the “lowly” profession of woodworking. They had been good enough friends, sure, but his nerves, compounded by a low self-worth, prevented him from making a move.

Now, however, she was back in town, and she had stopped by to see him, of all ponies. That thought brought up a question, and he asked her, “So where is 'home,' exactly?”

She said, “Oh, I've got a little cottage on the edge of town that my parents own. They used to stay there sometimes if they wanted to get away for a night or two, but it hasn't been used for a while. They gave it to me.”

“Wow,” Ply said, “that was very generous of them.”

With a snicker, Hazel said, “Well, they weren't about to let some college dropout move back in with her folks. What was I gonna do, stay in the basement?” She chuckled, and Plywood joined in. After her laughter died down, Hazel continued, “Actually, that's one of the reasons I'm here. It's been so long since anypony's stayed in the cottage, all the furniture is kind of a mess. I think it'd be best if I had new furnishings made, and who better to go to than the pony who was making three-story birdhouses in Mr. Plank's wood shop class while the rest of us could barely pound a nail into a board?”

Ply laughed at the memory from his school days, the strange and curious looks his classmates had given him nothing compared to the elation he had experienced when his cutie mark appeared. He had almost forgotten Mr. Plank's shock at seeing his elaborate “bird mansion,” as his teacher had called it. His joy was temporary, however, when it dawned on him why Hazel was here. So she just needs me to make furniture? That's fine, I guess; what kind of friend would I be if I didn't help her out? “Sure, Hazel, I'd be happy to help you.” Quickly, he added, “And since you're a friend, I'll even give you a discount if you like.”

He could swear he saw the faintest hint of a blush cross her cheeks as she said, “That would be great, Ply. I can come back later and give you a list of all the things I need, all right?”

His brain screamed at him to do something, anything to carry on the conversation a little longer, but his mouth worked too quickly. “Sure, Hazel, that'll be fine.” She gave him a smile – a lovely, captivating smile – and turned to go, but thankfully, his thoughts processed fast enough to catch her before she reached the door. His volume, however, was once again louder than anticipated. “Hazel!”

She turned back to face him again. “What is it, Ply? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it's fine,” he said, waving a hoof idly, trying to calm down as his heart increased its rate. He stammered, trying to formulate the perfect sentence in his head before she left again. “I...um...well, I was gonna ask you...” The words refused to come, and he nearly entered panic mode as he looked at her again. She's beautiful, you idiot! Don't let her just walk out the door! Say something!

Her voice seemed to break all the barriers that were preventing him from thinking clearly. “It's all right, Ply. Go ahead and say what you need to say.”

Her smile sent his heart racing again, but this time, he was able to form coherent words. “I was wondering if maybe...we could have lunch sometime.” He paused for just a moment, swallowing hard before continuing, “You know, to talk about what you need done, and maybe catch up on old times.” His front hoof reached up and scratched at his withers, but there was no itch there; he felt like a fool, but all he could do was wait.

She simply looked at him for a few seconds; she didn't smile, she didn't frown, she didn't laugh, she just looked, almost as though she was studying him, judging him. Oh Celestia, I've made a horrible mistake, he thought, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead as he awaited any sort of verbal response. There's no way she would say yes, she just needs you to make some chairs and stuff, what were you thinking, you idiot...

“Sure.”

His eyes widened slightly, and his thought process froze. Wait, did she just say what I think she said? “Yeah?”

She giggled lightly. “Yeah, I think that sounds great. I'd love to. When should we meet?”

He sputtered out the first thoughts that came to him. “Saturday, noon, at Griddle's?”

She grinned. “That would be fine. I haven't had his greasy hay fries in too long.” She stepped toward the door, still looking at him as she said, “I'll see you then, all right?”

“All right,” he said in barely more than a whisper. He watched as she flashed him one last smile, the hints of a blush still on her light brown cheeks, before stepping out of the store, the bell signaling her departure.

For a few seconds, he just stood there, stock-still. At last, his brain caught up, and he gave a little laugh and a leap into the air. He trotted back into the workroom, his mind racing a mile a minute, and returned to his project, his focus no longer just on the small end table before him. Now he had a date, with a mare he'd known for a very long time, in only two days, and she was gorgeous, and he didn't have any formal wear...

Suddenly, he had no idea how long it was going to take to finish the end table.

***

Ply chuckled softly at the memory and looked down at the mare wrapped in his forelegs. Her mane was slightly duller, gray and white hairs beginning to make their appearance in the sea of auburn, but it had the same vibrant wave that he'd seen on that day. It still sent his heart fluttering sometimes, and this was definitely one of those times. He pulled her a little tighter to his body, eager to feel the rhythmic thumps of her heart.

Hazel, her head nuzzling his neck, asked, “What's funny, Ply?”

He stroked her back with his hoof as he said, “I was just remembering the day you came back to Maneitoba. I swear, the first moment I saw you, I didn't think I'd ever see a mare that beautiful again in my entire life. And you know what? I was right.”

She hummed quietly and said, “Oh, Plywood, you old charmer.” She giggled, her light laugh bringing a grin to Ply's face. “Tell the truth, I was a little nervous myself that day.”

“Oh?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Mmhmm,” she responded. “I was back in my home town after failing at college, and I was afraid...afraid everypony else was going to look down on me for not making it in an elite school, just like my folks did back then. But then I walked into your shop, and I saw you again, and you didn't judge me; you didn't treat me like anything less than a friend. I knew then that it didn't matter what anypony else thought, because at least my old buddy Plywood would stick up for me.” She released her grip on him, and he did the same, stepping back to lock his gaze with hers. “And I know now that dropping out of that school was the best decision I could have ever made.” She snaked a hoof behind his head and slowly pulled him close, and he offered no resistance, eagerly pressing his lips to hers.

Their mouths moved with practiced precision and grace, their jaws engaged in a delicate dance that they had undertaken so many times before, but one which Ply never grew tired of performing. He ran his tongue along her lips, loving their mild, sweet taste, and she eagerly parted them. Slowly and surely, drawing on years of experience, Ply explored every inch of her mouth, her own tongue rising up to stroke delicately against his as he ran the flexible organ along the roof of her mouth, across the tops of her teeth, and even a quick sweep across the gums, her strong essence permeating his senses as they made out. Her cups of coffee, no matter how much she sweetened them with the ingredient that was her namesake, could never compare with the real thing.

He finally pulled away, their tongues remaining in contact for as long as possible before they were separated, though still connected by a strand of saliva that broke only when Hazel licked her lips and breathed in. Ply gave her a sly grin. “You know, Hazel, this is our last night in the honeymoon suite.”

She raised an eyebrow with a smile of her own. “Oh really? I wasn't aware,” she said, teasing him.

“Indeed it is, last time I checked,” Plywood said with mock indignation. “So, answer me something, Miss Hazelnut, if you would be so kind.”

“Anything, Mister Plywood,” the mare responded with a giggle.

He leaned his head over to her ear and whispered, “Is there anything, anything at all, I can do for you that would make this night even better?”

She responded in kind, her own muzzle drifting over to his ear. Her hot breath on the sensitive flesh sent a tingle through his head as she whispered back, “I was actually thinking there's something I could do for you.” She nibbled lightly on the tip of his ear, and he flinched slightly as she teased him before releasing him and saying, “Lie down on the bed.”

He didn't hesitate, turning and hopping up onto the amazingly comfortable bed before rolling over onto his back, his forelegs tucked in close to his body and his hind legs spreading apart. He could feel the tip of his stallionhood beginning to poke its way out of his sheath, and his heart rate began to increase as he prepared himself for whatever she had planned.

Hazel, for her part, wasted no time either, taking a position more towards the foot of the bed, her front hooves planted on either side of his hips and her head facing his but above his hardening member. She looked down at him with a lascivious grin. He knew what she was planning a moment before she acted, but he still gasped when she dropped her head and gave him a long, slow lick down his ever-increasing length. How long has it been since we've done this? The earth pony barely had time to muse over that question before another surge of pleasure came from down there, and he lifted his head and looked down to see Hazelnut providing him with a coat of saliva all up and down his sensitive stallionhood even before it had fully emerged from its sheath. His breath came in gasps as she continued to utilize her soft, rough tongue, licking from base to tip, each trip a little longer as more blood rushed down there to make him harder.

Finally, he stood at full attention, and Hazel blushed slightly as she pulled back and admired it. Plywood felt his own cheeks grow redder, each beat of his heart accompanied by a throb of his member as it stuck out proudly, ready for his wife's further action. It didn't take long; almost immediately, she leaned back in and swirled her tongue across the top of his flared head, a jolt of pleasure coursing through him as she touched his sensitive flesh again. Each pass of her tongue across the tip of his erection was marvelous, and he grunted as he held himself back, eager to make this last.

As her tongue continued its work, however, Plywood was suddenly struck with an idea, and in between gasps, he spoke up. “Hazel?”

She looked up at him with longing eyes, her hoof taking over for her tongue and stroking the underside of his member with gentle, even movements. “Yes, Ply?”

His breath caught as he felt another surge of pleasure, but he still found the words. “I know what would make this – unh – even better.”

“And what's that?” she said, never tearing her eyes from his nor ceasing her hoof's ministrations.

Oh Celestia, that's sexy, he thought, but he forced himself to concentrate. “I'd like to – ah – do yours too.”

Abruptly, her hoof stopped mid-stroke, and he gasped at the sudden lack of friction. Hazel's eyes widened, then narrowed; her answer was clear, even without words. She quickly shifted her body into its new position, her marehood now above Ply's head and her rear hooves just above his shoulders. He looked up at her treasure, and his mouth began to water in anticipation. She was clearly excited as well, if the glisten of moisture around her entrance was any indication. Slowly and deliberately, she lowered herself down, her tongue giving his stallionhood another long, slow lick as her body settled atop his. Her soft coat was warm against him, and she wasn't heavy; it was more comfortable than any blanket could hope to be, and he relished every moment, every sensation of her pressed against him.

His attention was seized, however, by the return of other, much stronger sensations, and with another gasp, he realized that she had gone back to work on his member, her warm tongue brushing along his tip. He was tempted to lean back and lose himself in the incredible feelings, but at the sight of her damp entrance, he steeled his resolve; if she was going to please him orally, then by Celestia, he was going to return the favor. But first...

His hooves immediately went to work, making contact with her cutie marks and rubbing in small circles on her flanks. The soft, malleable flesh gave way easily to his ministrations, and he heard Hazel give a little cry of pleasure, her mouth temporarily withdrawing from his erection. He continued to massage her flanks, pressing down a little harder with each pass, and she soon resumed her soft licks, punctuated by the occasional moan, her hot breath making contact with his hard length causing him to shudder.

While his left hoof continued to caress her flank, his right began an adventure of its own, sliding up to stroke along her haunch before drifting to her tail. There was a spot, almost directly where her tail emerged from her body, where she was especially sensitive, and he didn't hesitate to find it and give it a vigorous rubbing. The spasm of her barrel atop him and her squeak of surprise and happiness let him know that his attention was very much appreciated, and he continued to massage her special spot with firm but gentle circles of his hoof. Her tail flicked back and forth, brushing across his nose twice as she fell victim to his contact.

His massage never ceasing, Plywood leaned his head up, the muscles in his neck barely straining as he closed in on his goal. The smell hit him as he came closer, and he shivered at the sweet scent. Hazel was living proof that smell and taste were closely linked; the aroma of her arousal only served to enhance the traces of her strong, sweet flavor that remained on his taste buds, both his olfactory nerves and his oral cavity soon filled entirely with her essence. He breathed in deep through his nose, the sensation of her scent echoing through his entire head and sending a wave of bliss through him. Only the love of his life smelled that way, he was sure of it, and he breathed in deep again, a smile on his face. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in Equestria at this moment.

He gasped as he felt a new sensation tear through his body, and judging from the warm, wet feeling and the slurping sounds, Hazel had enveloped the head of his stallionhood in her mouth and was suckling on it. The entirety of his shaft throbbed with pleasure as she treated him like hard candy, and he lost focus for a moment as the ecstasy coursed through his body. Ply regained his composure, however, and his tongue finally wormed its way out of his mouth as his head closed the distance between himself and his wife's treasure. With only a moment's hesitation, he gave a long, slow lick along her entrance, eagerly tasting her juices. Her moan of pleasure came with an added bonus: her mouth was still around his sensitive head, and the vibration of her lips only made him twitch and throb again.

His tongue began its work, delivering lick after lick across her lower lips and eliciting even more groans and purrs of approval from the mare who was still suckling him, sending a new wave of pleasure through his erection. It was a vicious cycle, but he didn't mind in the least. They continued in this pattern for several minutes, Ply's hooves never ceasing to rub her left flank or her special spot, and she continuing to suck on him, occasionally withdrawing her head to give his shaft a fresh lick or to swirl her tongue across the top of his member. All the while, the pleasure and warmth inside Ply grew steadily, his mind threatening to eventually yield to the mounting pressure.

It was Hazel who broke the cycle first, and Ply moaned as she took even more of him into her muzzle, her lips sliding down his length while her tongue tickled the underside of his stallionhood. He was enveloped in warm wetness, and the sensations of pleasure racing through his erection doubled. He threw his head back slightly and gave a low growl as she began to bob her head up and down, slowly at first, but rapidly increasing her speed. His head was pounding with each motion as his member sank into her mouth again and again, her tongue working even harder than it had before and coating him completely with warm saliva.

A new determination came to Ply even as Hazel's pace grew faster and faster, and even amidst the relentless assault of pleasure, he managed to raise his head back up toward her eager entrance. His hooves had ceased their motions with the first feeling of fellatio, and now he slid them around her thighs and gripped her legs (being careful to avoid her bad knee), using the grip as leverage to lift his head. His tongue was already out, and he gave one final lick before pressing his snout right up against Hazel's lower lips and pushing the eager pink organ inside. He was met by another moan of pleasure from the mare atop him, the sensation of her vibrating mouth around his erection nearly pushing him away, but he pressed on, focused on the task at hoof. An ample exploration of Hazelnut's inner walls was in order, and he swirled his tongue around the circumference of her passage, drawing out more moans from the mare. Her juices were flowing freely now, combining with her scent to indicate her immense arousal, and Ply lapped up all he could, the taste of his wife on his tongue sending him into a frenzy of eager licks.

He wasn't going to last much longer; that much was evident from the tingling sensation that began to build in his balls. Hazel, however, was not going to be left out, not if he had anything to do with it, and he doubled his efforts, scraping his tongue against every inch of her inner surface that he could reach. His left hoof slid over to join his mouth, but its target was the small nub that lay just below his snout. As his tongue scrambled like mad inside her, he found his mark with his hoof, and Hazel gave a muffled cry. That's the ticket, he thought, and his hoof pressed lightly against the small bundle of nerves as he licked her over and over again. Hazel, to her credit, didn't cease her motion, but her shouts and moans grew louder and more frequent, increasing the pleasure that wracked Ply's body and pushing him ever closer to the edge.

A shudder from the body atop his and a withering cry; that was all the warning Plywood received before a wave of moisture struck his snout and tongue, the scent and taste of Hazelnut's essence flowing freely over him telling his brain that he could hold on no longer. He pulled his head back, her juices flowing out of her entrance as his hoof rubbed her clit in little circles, and with a cry, he let himself go, releasing the pent-up energy into torrent after torrent of seed that shot out of the tip of his throbbing stallionhood. Hazel had released his member less than a second before he finished, and his seed fired out violently and sporadically, some of it splattering onto his legs and hips, while other shots of sticky cum simply dribbled out and flowed down the side of his erection. His mind, however, barely registered any of this, as his thoughts floated through a sea of incredible euphoria.

The feel of a beating heart that was not his own slowly brought Plywood back to reality. The first sight he was met with was his wife's pink entrance, wet with her juices and his saliva, and he smiled as he felt her breathing in time with him, their inhalations and exhalations slow and steady. For a while, he simply lay there, the smell of her treasure wafting to his nostrils again and leaving him placid. Eventually, she managed to swivel around and roll off of him, ending up beside him on the bed. He turned his head to see her face, and his eyes widened when he beheld the evidence of his orgasm plastered all over her. Her coat was matted in several places, and white blotches dotted her face and neck; one small glob even clung to her horn. He dropped his eyes in embarrassment. “Sorry, Hazel...guess I got a little carried away.”

She lifted his chin with her (thankfully clean) hoof and looked into his eyes. “It's all right, Ply. I hadn't done that in way too long; I kind of forgot how messy it can be.” She giggled slightly. “Besides, it was incredible.”

He smiled wide. “You can say that again. The perfect ending to a perfect honeymoon.”

She gave a soft smile, but that soon shifted into a wicked smirk. “Whoever said it was the end?”

He raised an eyebrow. “And just what do you mean by that, Miss Hazelnut?”

A stern look accompanied her response: “Well, Mister Plywood, I think I'd better get in the shower before any of this stuff starts to harden. And you know, that shower's big enough for two.”

His grin was wide. “Sweet Celestia, I love you, Hazel.”

“I love you too, Ply,” she said back, starting to lean in close, her lips puckered. Her progress, however, was halted by a hoof pressing into her upper barrel. “Hmm?” she asked, looking up at Plywood with curious eyes.

“Well, honey, maybe we could kiss...um...after we shower.” He gestured toward her semen-stained face.

She giggled again. “That's fine with me.”