Apple Crepes On New Year's

by Arkanus

Rating: mature
Tags: Romance, Slice of Life
Length: 4036

A stallion with naught a friend to spend New Year's Eve with, save for a bottle of scotch, is approached by a friendly Prench mare.

Blank Slate has had a shitty twelve months, and it seemed fitting that on the final day he be alone in a bar with a bottle of cheap scotch to count down the new year. After being kicked out by his girlfriend, subsequently finding out she had been cheating on him, being laid off at his job, and being forced to move in with his parents, he figures that this is the best his New Year's Eve is going to get.

However, things take an unexpected when a Prench mare named Pommejean approaches him, offering friendly company with whom to celebrate the start of a new year.

An idea that regrettably didn't come to me until after New Year's Day, as I would have liked to post it on New Year's Eve. But, oh well; I still enjoyed writing something with more heavy focus on the romance, while still delivering a healthy dose of clop.

Shout-out to Google Translate because i don't speak French.

Cover image and "Pommejean" OC by TJPones.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2017-01-03 00:09:33 UTC

L'alcool et les Pommes

"Just a few more hours," I groaned as I stared at the clock, its second hand ticking around in an endless marathon, counting down the seconds until the current, asshole year I was stuck in came to a long-awaited end, and a new one could take its place. I could only hope next year was better; than again, with all the bullshit I had been through in the past twelve months taken into account, there wasn't really anywhere to go but up.

I took a sip of scotch from my bottle; when I had started drinking, the liquid scorched my mouth and throat something fierce, but now I had grown accustomed, perhaps even numb to the flavor. Just another sad commentary on my life right now, I suppose; deal with something bad for long enough, and eventually you don't even care.

"What did I do to deserve all of this?" I mumbled to my bottle, "I'm a good pony with a level head... most of the time. Sometimes," I added after a pause. "Okay, so that phase where I wanted to be a changeling was pretty fucking stupid, but other than that I'm fine!" I had a brief period where I wanted to make myself look like a changeling; something about their appearance appealed to me, and I began taking steps to alter my body so I would look just like one of them. I had my pelt stained a dark, glossy grey, my mane dyed a seaweed green, and my ears surgically modified to look like a changeling's, but after the recent incident involving the mass kidnapping in Ponyville and the transformation of all changelings, I decided that it was probably best to stop. That, and the idea of having various holes drilled into my legs was the main point I had been uncertain about.

It wasn't my most well-thought-out plan, but I had moved on now; that chapter of my life was getting left in the dust when the clock struck midnight.

"Pardonez moui?" A kind voice spoke from just outside the solitary booth I occupied. I slowly glanced over and saw an orange, blonde mare staring at me with a kind, mildly confused expression. She was dressed in a striped, black-and white shirt and black beret, and her bright-green eyes were accented by patches of light freckles just underneath. "You are okay?" She spoke with a cute Prench accent, and smiled at me with a touch of concern; Celestia, she must have thought I was a lunatic.

I blinked. "Yeah, I'm alright, sorry," I said with a slight slur. "No need to worry, I'm a normal, Equestrian citizen; don't freak out or call the loony bin."

The mare giggled. "You were talking to nopony," she replied. "You are all alone, moinsuier?"

I stared at her for a few moments. Say no, I initially urged myself, just wallow in your depression and booze. "Yeah," I said with a sad chuckle.  "Just kinda ringing in the new year the only way I really felt like doing." I emphasized this with a twirl of my bottle, the alcohol sloshing and splashing inside. "I can't wait for next year."

The mare looked confused. "Your problems will all be magically solved by the new year, oui?" She inquired. "I do not think so."

I smirked. "What's your name?" I asked with a chuckle.

The mare sat down in the seat opposite me. "Pommejean," she replied politely. "Et toi?"

I sighed. "Blank Slate," I replied, taking a small going from the scotch. "Although I'd pay a million bits to be any other stallion right now..."

Pommejean tilted her head quizzically. "Pourquoi? Why do you feel this way?" She asked worriedly.

I laughed bitterly. "Oh, where do I even begin?" I said rhetorically. "I got laid off from my job, for starters. I hated working there, so I guess it isn't that much of a loss. My girlfriend kicked me out of our apartment, and I found out she had been cheating on me for at least a month. I moved into my parents' place, which they didn't seem to happy about, but weren't so heartless they'd let their son live on the streets." I took another drink from my scotch, which was running low; ah, I had enough to bits for another bottle.

The mare frowned sympathetically. "I'm sorry," she said. "Why do you drown your sorrow in scotch? Seems rather, how you say... counterproductive?"

I shrugged. "Meh."

Pommejean rolled her eyes. "Would you not rather be spending time with a loved one?" She suggested. "Or at least drinking with a loved one?"

I rolled my eyes. "I have no loved ones," I muttered uncaringly, "I hate everyone."

Pommejean made a mock-offended face. "Oui? This means you hate me, non?" I was worried I had upset her, but then I noticed a small smile tugging at her lips; she was messing with me. She reached out a hoof for my bottle. "Laisse moi," she offered, "I will be your friend for the rest of the year."

I grinned. "That's only a few hours," I pointed out with a slight wiggle of my eyebrows. "What can we possibly do in such little time?" Sweet Celestia, I am drunk.

Pommejean took a sip of scotch and wiped her lips daintily. "We get to know each other," she stated. "Do you live in Manehattan?"

I nodded. "Yup, all my life," I replied. "You must be from..." I trailed off, not wanting to be too on-the-nose.

The mare giggled. "Prance, oui," she finished. "I am on vacation; a funny story, réellement. Princess Twilight Sparkle met me during a conference in Prance, and said she wanted to play a prank on her friend who looks like me," she explained, suppressing her laughter. "I followed her all week pretending I only spoke Prançais, and she thought I was her long-lost twin sister!"

I let out a guffaw. "That's awesome!" I cried, wiping a year from my eye. "So, have you been to Equestria before?"

Pommejean shook her head. "Non," she replied, "but I have wanted to come for some time. I leave tomorrow night, but I wanted to see the world-renowned Manehattan New Year's Festival before I return home."

I nodded as I took another sip of scotch, before passing it to Pommejean, who also took a small drink. "Yeah, it's pretty cool," I said as I peered out a nearby window. Ponies had lined the street in excited crowds, cheering, waving, and dancing as they anxiously awaited the New Year's ball drop. "I'm just glad it's almost over."

Pommejean frowned. "Why so upset?" She asked kindly. "This year has been tres magnifique for Equestria! You have a new princess, the changelings have been defeated, and your alliance with other countries is stronger than ever!"

I nodded somberly. "I mean, yeah, some good things have come out of the past year, but... I mean, for starters, my girlfriend broke up with me and kicked me out of our apartment," I explained. "I found out not even a week later that not only had she been cheating on me for at least a month, but the stallion in question had already moved in with her."

An angry look crossed Pommejean's face. "Quelle salope!" She snapped, but quickly blushed. "Pardonez; the drink makes me impolite," she apologized.

I shrugged. "I don't speak Prench anyways, so I have no idea what you just said," I replied with a chuckle.

The mare smirked cleverly. "Ah, alors je pourrais dire tout ce que je veux en Prançais et vous ne comprendriez pas?"

I stared blankly. "I don't know what that was, but it was fucking adorable," I said flatly.

Pommejean giggled and changed seats so she was sitting next to me. She leaned over, her lime eyes half lidded as her lips drifted close to my ear, and she whispered in her sweet, tipsy voice, "omelette du fromage."

I laughed and playfully pushed her away. "Come on, that was just dumb!" I said as we both giggled.

She nodded, still laughing. "Oui, but it was funny," she stated. "See, all is not so terrible; you can still laugh, non? So long as we have laughter, there is still good in the world."

I nodded, wearing a small grin. "Yeah, you're right," I admitted. "We still have laughter, and joy, and-" I swallowed hard, "love."

Pommejean looked surprised for a moment, before a sly smirk formed on her lips. "That must be the scotch talking?" She inquired. "Then again, we meet under such romantic circumstances... A mare from another country, a stallion going through hard times, meeting on New Year's Eve... Who is to say it is not meant to be?"

I chuckled. "Okay, that was definitely the scotch," I said teasingly. "You've got a point, though," I added. "And I'll admit, I wouldn't mind cozying up next to a mare as pretty as yourself."

Pommejean giggled her eyes narrowed in teasing seduction. "That was also the scotch?" She asked, her voice getting quieter as she began to slowly lean in.

I shook my head. "That was all me," I replied smoothly. "Of course, the scotch made it easier to say." We leaned in closer, our lips about to touch, but I suddenly pulled back. "Wait, Pommejean," I began, "What if... What if this is the only time we see each other? I don't want to go falling in love for one night, only to spend the rest of my life wondering what might have been."

She smiled comfortingly. "We are not foals, Slate," she said softly. "You can visit Prance, I can visit Equestria, and we can write letters to each other in between... would that not be more romantique than an ordinary love: the chance to savor and enjoy the time we share so it would not grow stale?"

I blushed at the thought. "That sounds really nice, actually," I whispered, starting to lean in once again.

Pommejean gave a small laugh. "Then why don't you kiss me?" She suggested, and our lips finally met in sweet bliss. Her's were soft and smooth, and seemed to caress my mouth like a loving hug. After a few moments I worked up my courage and parted my lips slightly, and she must have been thinking the same thing as our tongues met in the middle, gliding with each other like a ballroom dance. She tasted like scotch, which was odd, but her saliva added the most wonderful sweetness to it; if I was only allowed to experience that one sensation for the rest of my life, I think I would be a pretty damn happy stallion.

We parted after a few moments, smiling and breathing heavily. "You are so beautiful," I whispered.

She sighed happily and rested her head on my chest. "I wish this moment could last forever," she whispered. "How long is it until the new year?"

I glanced up at a clock. "A little less than two hours," I replied quietly.

Pommejean sat up, an eager and hopeful look in her eyes. "Perhaps we could continue the night in my hotel room?" She suggested. "The view is très romantique; you can see the ball and the countdown clock from my balcony perfectly."

I nodded. "Yeah, should I grab another bottle of scotch or something?" I suggested. I was willing to shell out a few more bits than I was initially planning for something a little more tasteful than the cheap liquor I had been sucking down most of the night.

Pommejean shook her head. "Non, I have something much better at the hotel," she replied. "Let us leave, rapidement; we wouldn't want to waste a single moment, oui?"

We made our way through Chronos Square, carefully pushing through the excited crowds that eagerly awaited the stroke of midnight. We eventually arrived at the hotel and rode the elevator to the 42nd floor, restrainig ourselves on he way; we wanted this night to be sepcial, and even though making out in the elevator sounded fun, we feared it might spoil the romance.

When we reached Pommejean's room, she retrieved a bottle of champagne and a pair of glasses, and escorted me out onto the balcony, where a small, umbrella-covered table waited. She poured the champagne into the glasses as I sat down, and she talked about her life in Prance. "I work in a bakery with my family," she explained. "Ponies adore our Pomme Pain Avec des Èpices; Spiced Apple Bread."

I nodded intently. "That sounds delicious," I said fondly.

Pommejean smiled as she took a sip of her champagne. "I could send you some," she offered kindly. "Or if you come visit me in Prance, I could make some for you fresh."

I gave her a confused smile. "'If'?" I repeated, "After a night like this, you think there's any uncertainty that I'll visit you? I have to find a new job, sure, but as soon as I have the money, you can bet I'll be boarding the earliest flight to Prance."

Pommejean blushed. "Oh, I forgot, we must make a toast!" She cried suddenly, and raised her glass. "To future romance," she said lovingly, smiling sweetly as she looked deep into my eyes.

I raised my own glass. "To a year of love and happiness," I replied as we clinked our glasses together, letting out a soft chime. I looked over the balcony and gazed at the crowd beneath us. "This is a great view," I said, scooting my chair so I could sit beside Pommejean. "I've never been up this high before."

The mare rested her head against my shoulder and placed a forehoof on my thigh. "Oui, it is magnifique," she whispered. "A beautiful city, on a beautiful night..."

I glanced over and smiled warmly at Pommejean. "With a beautiful mare," I added softly. She looked up at me, her eyes shining, and we came together for another passionate kiss. As we embraced each other, Pommejean's hoof slowly shifted, pressing against my inner thigh. The contact made me flinch, and she broke the kiss and giggled. "Don't worry, mi amor," she said sweetly, "I'm just making the night more magique." She continued to massage my thigh as I felt my member begin to stiffen.

I uttered a shaky sigh as I lost myself in the rhythm of her movements, and realized she probably wanted me to return the favor. I reached a foreleg around her shoulders and began to stroke her thigh, taking care not to move things along too quickly and touch the folds of her marehood.

When i finally stood at full mast, Pommejean took the big step and began to stroke my shaft, humming a soft tune as she moved her hoof up and down. I took the hint and traced the lips of her already-wet pussy, which surprisingly didn't interrupt her song; she we clearly enjoying the sensation, though, as her eyes had a dreamy, half-lidded look about them. "What is that?" I asked softly in her ear.

Pommejean suddenly blushed. "Oh, pardon," she apologized, and stopped stroking. "It's a lullaby my mother used to sing when I was a filly; sometimes, when I'm feeling peaceful or happy, my mind drifts and I hum it."

I nodded understandingly. "It sounds wonderful," I said comfortingly, moving closer to her. "Keep going."

Pommejean gave a small smile, still blushing, and continued to hum as we gently massaged each other's privates. It was such a lovely moment; the feeling of a mare's touch on my shaft, the soft sound of her humming filling the air, and the wind gently rustling our manes as we nestled together. We kissed again, our lips meeting as wonderfully as every other time, and I began to feel a powerful sensation of pleasure building in my loins.

"Pommejean... I'm gonna..." I moaned, my ecstasy preventing me from finishing my thought. Pommejean just smiled cleverly and sped up her pace, and I found myself at my limit. "Fuuuuuuuck..." I moaned as my orgasm pulsed from my cock, letting out an initial spurt of cum that landed on the balcony floor, before quickly dying down and dribbling down the side of my member.

"Oh, such a shame," Pommejean said, gazing at the glob of cum that had landed on the ground as she kneeled in front of me. "At least not all went to waste," she added, and gave my dick a long, slow lick from the base to the tip, cleaning up most of the leftover jizz that had dripped out.

I let out a low moan. "Do you wanna... Maybe..." I trailed off, glancing at the open door to the hotel room.

Pommejean got a thoughtful look in her eyes. "I have a better idea," she said seductively, and trotted over to the balcony wall, placing her forehooves on he railing. "Right here," she called, swishing her tail aside to put her pussy on full display. "That way we can see the fireworks."

I smiled as I trotted over and reared up on my hind legs, resting my stomach on her back. "You ready?" I whispered in her ear.

"Oui, mi amor," she purred eagerly.

I used a hoof to aim my cock as I pressed forward slowly, taking my time to savor the feeling of warmth that traveled up my cock as I penetrated her deeper and deeper. When I finally bottomed out, I began to pull out and push back in, creating a gentle rhythm as I fucked Pommejean lovingly. She let out a passionate moan every time I thrusted in, and it felt like she pushed against me whenever I pulled away, as though she wasn't ready to let me go. "Pommejean?" I whispered as we watched the crowds beneath us, still partying with just minutes to go on the countdown.

"Oui?" she asked, turning her head to look at me. Sweet Celestia, her eyes were incredible.

"Every day, I walk down these streets and see the tall buildings and monuments, and every night I look out my window and see the glowing lights and signs. And you know what?"

She gave a confused look. "What is it?"

I smiled and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "None of it is as beautiful as you are," I whispered.

Pommejean smiled warmly. "Mmm... Slate, mi amor, I'm glad I met you tonight," she moaned as I kept thrusting. "Oh, merde... I'm going to cum, Slate," she whispered passionately.

I nodded as I began to thrust a bit more vigorously. "is it okay if I...?"

The mare nodded. "Oui, I take birth control," she replied, and kissed me deeply, her tongue melding against mine like a tender handshake. "Let us become one, mi amor," she pleaded, and I could feel myself reaching my limit.

As we both were getting closer to cumming, we heard the crowd begin to chant below. "TEN! NINE!"

"Slate, hurry!" Pommejean begged. "Let us finish before the year is over!"

"SEVEN! SIX!"

I began thrusting as quickly and as hard as I could, my thighs smacking against Pommejean's thighs I literally raced against time.

"FIVE! FOUR!"

"Three," I whispered, the final walls beginning to break down.

"Deux," Pommejean replied, her eyes beginning to glaze over from ecstacy.

"ONE!" The ponies 42 floors below us shouted enthusiastically.

We let out a cry as our orgasms rushed through us, and the crowd cheered violently. "HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

We stood there for several minutes, panting and smooching. "We didn't quite make it," Pommejean panted with a small smile.

I grinned back. "You know, I think I prefer starting the new year like this, rather than finishing the old one," I replied. "At least I'm off to a good start."

Pommejean gave me a kiss on the cheek after I dismounted her. "Would you like I spend the night with me?" She offered hopefully. "It would be a shame to leave a mare all alone after such a magnifique night, no?"

I nodded and followed her back into the bedroom. She hopped on and nestled down, yawning tiredly, and I lied down beside her.

"Pommejean?" I whispered to the peaceful mare beside me.

"Oui, mi amor?" She asked quietly.

"I love you," I whispered, and gave her a quick, gentle kiss.

"And I love you, Slate," she said, wrapping her forehooves tightly around me in a tight hug. As we lay there, slowly falling asleep in our embrace, I could hear the bang of fireworks outside, and I could see their colored lights painting the walls of Pommejean's hotel room.

I woke up the next morning to see Pommejean packing her things hurriedly. "Morning," I yawned affectionately.

Pommejean paused for a moment to smile at me before going back to her packing. "Je suis désolé, mi amor, but my plane will be leaving soon! I must be going rapidement."

I got out of bed and stretched my back, my head beginning to fill with a hangover headache. "Would you like me to help you carry your things to the airport?" I offered kindly.

Pommejean smiled thankfully. "Mon dieu, such a gentleman," she replied. "Thank you for spending New Year's with me, Slate; it was tres romantique." She gave me a kiss on the forehead, and motioned for me to follow her as she grabbed some of her saddlebags and departed from the room. I carried the rest and proceeded as she led me out onto the streets, eventually reaching the airport. We sat at the entrance to the terminal, staring at each other.

"So... I guess this is goodbye," I said sadly.

Pommejean smiled sadly. "Oui, mi amor, until we meet again," she replied, giving me a tender kiss.

"I hope it's soon," I laughed, and Pommejean headed for the plane with her bags in tow. Just as she left the terminal, though, I realized something. "Pommejean!" I called, but she was already outside, and the security wouldn't let me pass. "Please, I have to talk to that mare who just left!" I begged the guards.

"We're afraid you can't pass without a ticket," one of them said sternly. "I'm sorry, but it's airport policy."

I narrowed my eyes and gritted my teeth. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I snapped, "That's the love of my life, and I never found out where she lives!"

The other guard snorted rudely. "What, did you just meet her last night? It can't be all that special if you don't even know her address!" The two guards chuckled heartily.

I was too hungover to take this shit laying down.

I crouched low and kicked one of the guards in the head with my hind legs and quickly took advantage of the distraction by leaping over him and galloping out the gate. "Pommejean!" I called out, "Pommejean, wait!"

The mare was climbing the stairs to her plane, but turned back when she heard my call. "Slate!" She called with a wave of her forehoof.

I smiled happily. "You never told me where you live!" I shouted, "what's your address?"

Pommejean looked surprised for a moment, and quickly grabbed a pen from one of her saddlebags and scribbled something inside her beret. "Prends ça!" She cried, and hurled the beret like a frisbee. I galloped like a bat out of Tartarus and snatched up the beret and placed it on my head moments before a pair of guards tackled me and pinned me down.

"Yeah, we've got a loony," one of them barked into a walkie talkie. "Probably partied too hard last time. We're gonna escort him from the premises."

Security hauled me out of the airport and warned me that I was being let off gently this time, but if I pulled a stunt like that again I would be facing jail time. I didn't care, though; as the guards left me alone and returned to the terminal, I took off the beret and smiled warmly at the sight of Pommejean's postal address, written on the inside in lovely, swirly cursive.

I had a good feeling that this was going to be an incredible year.