Green Acres . . . of Sex

Chapters

From Penthouse, to Shack
Cleaning House
Flashback
Getting Clean
An Evening of Inspiration
Making Business from Pleasure
Movin' forward
First Dawn on the Farm

From Penthouse, to Shack

“How much, Uncle Orange?” Applejack asked quietly.

Mosely hung his head, sighing, “Almost everything. It just seemed like such a splendid opportunity, that not to take advantage of it to the hilt would be a crime. They showed us all these brochures, slideshows, the paperwork looked so genuine. All they said they needed was some additional capital, and the returns they projected were through the roof.”

“So we, I, took just about every liquid bit we had and plowed it into this scam. Then, because I wanted to appear generous, I convinced most of our friends to join in. Fortunately, none of them were as naïve as I was, and they didn’t risk anything that they couldn’t afford to lose. Still, ever since I endorsed the enterprise, the Orange name had been less than worthless in Manehatten.”

As Applejack put her foreleg around his shoulder to comfort him, he just felt his misery deepen. That, he, Mosely Orange of the Manehatten Oranges, had fallen this far. That he had to request charity from his niece.

“You know that the Apples are always glad to help out kinfolk.” Applejack ineffectively consoled, “We know first-hand how easy it is to get bamboozled by hucksters.”

As his brother’s daughter related how Sweet Apple Acres almost went under due to a hubris fueled bet, he felt his shame lighten a little. He couldn’t keep his jaw from dropping when she related how Granny Smith got snookered by the same con-artists a second time, by a bogus medicine show.

“You mean to tell me that You, an Element of Harmony, endorsed their quack remedy?” He couldn’t believe his ears, “Even after you found discovered it was just beet leaves and apple juice?”

“E’Yup.” Applejack shook her head with a wry smile, “Sometimes the easiest pony to convenience is yourself. Can’t say that I am proud of what I did back then, and it shore did hurt to get up in front of all those ponies and admit I had misled them, but I can say that I am stronger for having gone through the experience. Ain’t no shame in making mistakes, just from not learning from ‘em afterwards.”

“You sure have come a long way,” He said with a smile, “From a little filly searching for her place in the world, to a mare who has grown wise beyond *my* years. Valencia and I truly are grateful for your assisting us during this . . . unfortunate period.”

“I just wish we had more that we could offer y’all. As it is, Carmel leaving for Dodge Junction to go work for Cherry Jubilee is the only reason we have a place available.” Applejack looked abashed, “I am afraid that he may not have left his homestead in the best shape when he took off a few weeks ago, and we haven’t gotten a chance to go over it since. Y’all are welcome to any tools, and general supplies we have in the barn. Aside from that however, things are a mite tight around her until applebuck season hits.”

“Considering our current situation, we can have no complaints, and are grateful for all the help you have been able to offer. I feel bad enough accepting a place to stay, I couldn’t accept bits if you had them to spare. In any case,” He countered, “I am sure that the two of us can get back on our hooves with that land in no time.”

Having parted with that bit of unfelt confidence, he went to collect his wife from the barn where she had been guided by their younger niece. When he found her, he could scarcely believe his senses. There she was, the jewel of the cocktail party scene, feeding withered apples to a pig. In a mud wallow.

“Oh there you are dah’ling,” Valencia cooed, “Come and meet Arnold here. Isn't he is just the sweetest thing.”

Mosley’s eyes drifted to take in the mud caked porcine, noticing that it seemed to be blushing from her praise.

“Hrnk?” It snuffled, nosing at Valencia, unabashedly begging for more food.

“Uh, hi Arnold,” he hesitantly offered the massive hog, then turning to his wife, “I finished my talk with Applejack, she said that a sharecropper recently left, and that we would be welcome to his old place.” Noticing his niece’s ears perk up, he ventured, “Do you think you could show us where Carmel’s old homestead is, Applebloom?”

“Sure thing, Uncle Orange,” The sweet young filly offered, “Follow me, it’s just down the main road. Y’all actually passed right by it when you came in from the train station. It’s kinda hidden behind the hill, though, so most no one sees it afore they get to the farm proper.”

Mosely quickly hitched himself back up to the small cart containing their belongings. ‘All our belongings.’ He thought bitterly to himself. Their furniture belonged to the same company that they had leased their luxurious penthouse from. All that was behind them now. Aside from Valencia’s more elaborate wardrobe choices, which they had left in storage, all that they could call their own was packed in this rickety second hand cart that he had to pull himself.

In short order, they arrived at the head of a small side path that branched off of the main track. Seeing that they were pointed in the right direction, Applebloom begged off escorting them the rest of the way. Something about ‘crusadin’ with the pair of fillies that were coming down the road from Ponyville. Left to their own devices, he and Valencia crested the hill, and took in the view of their new home for the foreseeable future: Nestled together in a hollow, created by the small hills on all sides, lay a single small cabin with a modest, unkempt field behind it.

“Well . . . it is something.” Doing his best to put on a brave face, “At least we will have some privacy, and there is plenty of potential here.”

“Ah, yes. Potential. With some luck, it will show better growth than your last venture.” He thought he caught a glimpse of regret as she turned to step gracefully down the hill, towards the cabin.

Even amongst this . . . rustic setting, she was a picture of elegance. ‘If only she could tell how much I love her. All I ever wanted was to deserve her affection. I thought that profits would let me show her how much she means to me, and look where she ended up because of that. Having to work on a country farm, while those beautiful hooves were meant for silken slippers. I fear that I have driven my dear Valencia further away than ever.’ With these morose musings, he followed his wife to the dilapidated cabin, and the life that awaited them within.

Author's Note

This mash-up is loosely inspired by the '65 to '71 sitcom Green Acres. Very loosely, essentially the name. I have never seen an episode of the show, so if you find any similarity to the characters or situations from the show Green Acres, it is either an astounding coincidence, or Wikipedia’s fault.

Uncle Orange is named Mosely Orange by the virtue of the minfig that bears his likeness being so named. Aunt Orange is named Valencia Orange by me. Primarily because she has no canon name, and Valencia was the nicest sounding variety of orange I could find.

Huge Thanks to WishyWish for inventing the phrase "Green Acres of sex", and for letting me promptly rip it completely out of context. Which then inspired me to go from being a 'someday' writer, into being an 'inflicting my writing on the unsuspecting populace' writer.

Cleaning House

As he busied himself with unhitching the luggage cart, a cacophony erupted from the cabin where Valencia had disappeared into. “Out. Out! You too. I see you hiding behind the curtain you squatter. Shoo. This is our house now!” Her voice accompanied by various bangs and clatters.

Worried, Mosley leapt out of the loosened straps, and ran to the door. Just in time to be practically trampled by various wildlife! A family of opossum, (The largest of whom somehow scurrying with a regal bearing, and he could swear he saw a blue collar around its neck!) led the escape. Followed by squirrels, rabbits, and at the tail end was even a turtle. Or was it a tortoise?

“Valencia, are you all right, dear?” Worry seeping into his voice, as he trotted inside.

“Perfectly all right,” His darling wife responded, “Just evicting some squatters. Apparently this is rather desirable real estate.”

Looking around, Mosley absorbed the ambiance of their new abode, as his eyes slowly adjusted to the dim interior. It seemed structurally stable at least . . . “Oh sweet Celestia, is that the kitchen?” He exclaimed, seeing what had attracted the local wildlife. Empty, he hoped that they were all empty, food containers were heaped everywhere. He assumed that there was a sink beneath the water pump, but it, and the counter surrounding it, were completely buried by filthy dishes. He truly feared to open the icebox in the corner, if the rest of the area was a clue, its contents might well be dangerous.

Surprising him, Valencia led him away from the kitchen. “One thing at a time, Dear. We can take care of that . . . biohazard, in a minute. Let us see what other surprises await in here first.”

By comparison, the common area was fairly clean, and rather spacious. A table for four, with three sturdy chairs around it was near the pass way from the kitchen. Under the only window with curtains, rested a large plush couch, which was only moderately worn. “Well that is where the squatters came in,” He remarked, pointing his hoof at the broken window pane. “I will have to board that up until we can get replacement glass.”

Nudging open the door to the only bedroom, they were both relieved that Carmel did not practice the common bachelor habit of eating in bed. Aside from some papers, and other detritus, it was fairly clean. As Valencia tentatively looked under the mattress, however, another shock awaited.

“Bwawk!” Came the defensive cry of a large brown chicken with a bright red comb, as it darted to the open closet from under the bed.

To his astonishment, his demure mare followed the fowl calmly. “It will be all right, little one,” She cooed softly, “You are not in any trouble, and we chased out all those wild critters. No one will hurt you.” The frightened chicken started to edge out at the calming tone of her voice. Eventually nuzzling her head against Valencia’s leg. “Well, aren’t you just adorable! I think you look like an ‘Alice’. What do you think, Dear?”

Startled, he went into default agreement mode, “Of course, Precious. Alice certainly suits her,” While to himself he thought, ‘Alice? That is the weirdest name for a chicken I have ever heard. Why not ‘Clucky’, or ‘Elizabeak’?’ Then aloud, “What should we do with her, take her over to Applejack?”

“Whatever for, she came with the cottage didn’t she? She will certainly be of help with the plants, eating bugs and whatnot,” Came her instant reply, “Speaking of which, we should go and take a look to see if our field is in as bad a shape as our new home.”

Sadly, this seemed to indeed be the case. Other than a full crop of weeds, there were no plants growing that they could find. The soil was moist and dark, though, and from what he could remember from his youth spent farming a lifetime ago, it appeared to be rich and fertile. “Just like the cabin, the land is a fixer-upper. Ah well, we still have plenty of daylight left, I am going back to the farm and get supplies. Applejack said we could use anything of theirs that we needed. Aside from bits, that is.” He added reluctantly.

“Not that you can blame her,” cam the unnecessary barb from his wife, “Alice and I will see what work we can get done in your absence.”

Shoulders slumped, he transferred the luggage from the cart to the porch, re-hitched himself, and made the short trek back to the Sweet Apple Acres proper to gather what tools and repair supplies he thought would be needed.

As he crested their hill an hour later, he was startled by the sight that greeted him. In front of the porch was a giant pile of refuse that used to occupy the kitchen. Alice was busying herself pecking at various items here and there in the pile. Whether in search of leftover food, or pests, he would prefer to remain ignorant. Unhitching himself, yet again, he grabbed the materials he would need to close up the broken window, and went inside.

“Wipe your feet,” Admonished Valencia, without glancing his direction, “I just finished sweeping in here.”

“How did you do all this?” He could scarcely believe what was in front of him. Aside from the broken window, which now had all of the shards removed from the frame, the cabin was nigh immaculate. Even the cheap apple print wallpaper looked brighter, and not a speck of trash remained in sight.

“Well, Dah’ling, I cheated a bit with the trash. I found a snow shovel behind the cottage, so I just shoveled it all out the front door. Most of the dishes had to be discarded as well, I am afraid. Except for a hoof full, they were beyond salvage. I think some of them had been awaiting washing since Carmel first moved in here.” She glanced at the chicken wiping its feet, as it walked back inside, “Alice was a big help as well. She picked up all the little bits that the shovel couldn’t get. Such a delightful hen.” The chicken fluffed its feathers at the compliment.

“It is amazing, dearest, you both did an astounding job. This place is already looking like a home. Still a far cry from the penthouse of course,” At this her ears flattened, and her shoulders stooped. Seeing that her his comment had caused her good mood to deflate, he quickly diverted the topic, “Well, I got the materials to cover over the window, so I will jump on that. Then I thought it might be wise to check out the roof, Better to find out now if there are any major issues.” Valencia seemed to have closed down, “Um, I will just, get to work then.”

‘Something is off.’ The thought kept nagging him as he boarded up the window. While no handy-stallion, simplistic fixes, such as nailing a few pieces of wood in a straight line, were well within his abilities. ‘Valencia had seemed to be taking everything in stride. It wasn’t until today that she had given me any stress about what happened. In fact,’ He mused, ‘She even seemed to have enjoyed the cleaning of the cabin, of all things.’ He went outside to climb up to the roof. As he checked the shingles, occasionally nudging one with his hoof, his train of thought continued, ‘Everything must have sunk in once we actually arrived here. Or maybe it was me calling this place a home that triggered the issue. This was supposed to be a temporary situation after all, and within the first hour I am calling this shack a home.’ He bent down to inspect a loose shingle, ‘Even though she has been nothing but supportive, this must have been terribly hard on her, and she has borne it with nothing but her customary grace. From now on I really must do my best to help her maintain her optimism about our return to Manehatten.’

Having reaffirmed the direction of his mindset, he fetched the hammer and nails from below and secured the handful of loose shingles. Fortunately, none of them actually needed replacing. Apparently, despite the slovenly habits of the former occupant, the integrity of the cabin was in good fairly good shape.

Upon completing the roof maintenance, he turned and took in the view of the land spread before him from the vantage of the roof. Celestia’s Sun was still fairly high, and under its rays, the land seemed to glow with promise. While he had spent most of his life as a city pony, he had never truly forgotten his early years on the farm. Nostalgia began to creep into his heart as the potential crops began to grow before him in his mind’s eye.

Hearing the door close beneath him, Mosley shook himself out of his daydream, and climbed down. “How are you, Precious? Are you feeling up to doing some work in the fields, after all, the sooner we get things planted, the sooner we can get back to our old lives, right?”

Despite his attempt to put enthusiasm in his voice, Valencia looked even more downtrodden than earlier. “If you say so dear,” She sighed, “So, what takes priority out here?”

“Well, the first thing we need to do is the weeding,” He thought a minute, “Then I can evaluate the soil, so as to best pick our crops.”

“Um hmm,” Came her unenthusiastic reply, as she set off and started pulling out the unwanted greenery.

Since he could tell that she was not in the mood to chat, and surprisingly needed no direction, they went to work. Many first time weeders would consider the job done by just removing the visible leaves and stem, but most weeds were perfectly capable of re-growing from the buried root if left alone. Valencia appeared to know this, and took the care needed to do the job right.

He watched as her strong teeth gripped the stem. Using her nimble lips, she worked it back and forth against the ground. Slowly, she loosened the reluctant roots from their comfortable home. Until, feeling it finally ready for release, she whipped her head back with a flourish. The weed rocketed out of the ground with a spray of soil, looking as if it was ejected by the earth itself. All in the same motion, she released the plant as her head turned to the side, allowing its inertia to fly it over her shoulder and land on a pile of its fallen brethren.

Shaking his head in wonder at her beauty and grace during such a mundane task, he returned to his own task. While he did not have the . . . style that she did, he did have experience. Having moved from the farm as young as he did, weeding was one of the few chores that he did have first-hoof experience at. As such, he chose to use the Hori Hori tool.

While not necessary for many of the pest plants, the Japaneighse gardening knife was indispensable for the larger, spined, opponents that seemed prevalent on his side of the field. Because of the difficulty facing these hardier plants, it had early on become his habit to use it on every foe of flora. Recalling, as he set to work, that his young colt self had made the game of imagining it a magical blade, his ally in a sacred battle against a secret enemy invasion. 'For the Glory of the Sweet Apple Acres Gardening Battalion'. Ah, youth. Still, it did indeed prove a wise choice in this field, as many of the pests had been left alone long enough to become fully grown. Horse feathers, some were taller than himself, and had to be chopped down before he could even attack the roots.

The pair worked in silence, aside from the occasional explicative, and the time passed quickly. In fact, it took his stomach growling at him to even realize that it was dusk. Turning to call out to his wife, he realized that she had already called it a day. A good day, too. Between them, the field was well over a third cleared, and easily half was due to her diligence.

Seeing the light in the unbroken cabin window, he wondered what might be for supper. As far as he knew, they really didn’t have any food. It was likely late enough that the shops in town were already closed, but he supposed he could go over to the farm and buy a few days’ worth of food from Applejack. He mentally kicked himself for not doing that when he had gotten the supplies earlier today. Chagrinned at his foolishness, he went inside to wash up before asking for food from his niece.

Author's Note

The needing of a shovel to clean sadly came from real world experience.
:facehoof:

Flashback

Opening the door to their cabin, Mosley’s nostrils were pleasantly assaulted by an unexpected succulent aroma. Valencia turned to him from the stove as Alice announced his arrival with, what seemed to him, a disdainful cluck. The bubbling pot, that Valencia was tending, being the apparent performer of the delightful olfactory symphony.

“Well, just in time dah’ling, Alice doesn’t have to go looking for you after all.” She said as the hen whipped her head away from him, as if to show that she had no interest in whether he was present or not.

“But what are you cooking? I know I was in the zone out there, was I so oblivious that you went shopping without my noticing?” His befuddlement was nearly as strong as his hunger.

“No need, Dah’ling, I just harvested while I weeded. We have a nice dandelion and sweet clover salad to start. Followed by a redstem fillaree, plantain, and thistle stew, seasoned with wild onion.” She looked at him askance, “We are on a farm my dear, did city living really make you think that food can only come from a restaurant? Now go and wash up, so we can eat.”

He was dumbfounded. But of course she was right. What he had been focused on as weeds, she had wisely viewed as their next meal. With their bit situation what it was, making do with what they had made so much sense. He quickly washed the day’s sweat and grime down the shower drain, amazing himself with the amount of dirt he had accumulated with just half a day’s labor.

After toweling off, smiling that she had even unpacked the necessities from their bags, he quietly set the table as she set the stew to simmer. She set the salad in the center of the table, then sat across from him, just as they had done in their old home in Manehatten. Albeit with a much smaller table, and no servants. Unless you counted Alice. Glancing at the hen, the image of her in a Prance maid outfit, holding a feather duster in her beak, came unbidden to his mind and he snorted at the picture.

“Does my cooking amuse you?” Valencia asked, a dangerous lilt in her voice that he recognized all too well.

“No no no, of course not, it’s just,” and he related his farciful vision.

“Hmmm, that is an image, isn’t it?” Her lips curled into a slight, but genuine, smile, “Truthfully though, how do you like it?”

Caught with a mouthful of the simple salad, he quickly chewed and swallowed, “Truthfully, I had forgotten than an unadorned salad could be such a treat. The freshness of these greens makes a dressing completely unnecessary!”

Her smile widened, “Indeed. The reason dressings flow so freely in the city is to conceal the bitterness that the leaves gain in the time that it takes to travel from farm, to store, to plate.” With that pearl dispensed, she joined him in devouring their repast.

As he ladled out the stew, only fitting as she had prepared everything, he felt his mouth watering dangerously. It was only luck that he finished serving the food responsible before he added his drool to the ladle’s contents.

Finally sitting down to eat their main course, the result of his first sip was beyond his expectations, “How did you learn to cook like this?” He exclaimed after his third mouthful, before diving back in, “This is exquisite! You really made this with only the weeds from the field? No secret seasonings, or anything?” Between his un-restrained consumption of the stew, he saw his refined spouse’s smile grow.

“Although I have heard that the best seasoning is hunger,” She smirked, “This is just water and heat. With fresh leaves and flowers added at the right times, in the right proportions. As to how I learned, well, by paying attention. Much of it was from my Nan, but I also from the kitchen in our own home as well. Just because we had servants who could do everything, I saw no need to remain ignorant of how it was done. Indeed, though you never knew it, this is not the first time I have cooked for you.” With a coy smile, she returned to her own bowl, leaving her befuddled husband to dole out his second serving in confusion.

After cleaning the dishes from that meal of surprises, Mosley remained deep in thought. Going through his nightly routine on automatic, as he mulled over the unprecedented events of the past week.

It was seven days ago this morning, that he had received the bad news, and it took hours of accumulating the evidence before he finally allowed himself to believe it. A scam. He, Mosley Orange, esteemed in Manehatten financial circles for his skill at evaluating start-up companies, had been taken in by common con-artists.

Their slick presentations, slide shows, market research papers. All faked. ‘You know,’ He mused, ‘with all the effort that they put into creating that fake operation, they could have easily been successful running a real business.’ The thought brought a wry smile to his muzzle, ‘Perhaps that is why I got sucked in. Not because I was too gullible, but because I picked up on the genuine skill behind the con. Too bad I couldn’t read where their skill truly lay.’

What really got him were the days following that first blow. As he went, one at a time, to each of his friends in person to explain that their investment was gone into thin air. It had to be done Pony to Pony, his pride would not allow him otherwise. Some of them raged and cursed at him, others just nodded, then turned their backs on him and walked away. Those hurt the most. Then, the day after sharing the bad news, the social fallout started. Future events sending revocations of their invitations, the Club’s doorpony refusing him entry. Then Valencia’s Weekly cocktail party, always a hit affair, receiving no guests at all. He could withstand being shunned, but for his wife to be treated as a pariah!

On top of all that, his other investments began failing. For no other reason than that all the other investors had begun to pull out. The dominos ahead were easy to see from there, with the result being that the Oranges were finished in Manehaten. With the few bits he was able to get for his shares by selling them to junk traders, after the other investors had performed their planned short selling that is, they could have paid their Penthouse lease for another month, but why? They would have no means to cover it the month after that.

The only resource left to them was their shares in a cargo ship currently en-route to the Zebronian Empire. A full 23% of the profits from that trade expedition were coming to the Oranges, after it returned of course. In seven months. At least there was a light at the end of the tunnel. All they had to do was to make it until then, and if today was any indication, they would make it.

The image of Ma chose that moment to appear in his mind. Honestly, he hadn’t been surprised by her reaction when he told her what had happened. Ma never had approved of his choice to move away from the farm to live in the ‘Big City’ with his cousins. She wasn’t above pointing out that she felt his fall was due to his getting too big for his britches, either. Still, through the gloating, he did feel the love coming from her. He had to admit that he had missed that green mare, and the tears that fell from him when they embraced were not falling only because of shame. Ma was a strong matriarch, raising his brother’s foals by herself after that Luna Blasted Manticore killed their parents. In a way, Valencia reminded him of Ma.

Valencia kept surprising him with her strength. Despite that dumping all their bits down that hole had been his idea, and despite the fact that she had suggested less aggressive investing at the time, she had never railed against him. She truly was a pillar of strength for him, in more ways than one. He was still flabbergasted at how she had thrown herself into the chores here, ‘I mean, I knew she had fortitude, what with the way she chaired the various organizations and charities back in Manehatten. Before I scuttled all of it, that is, but I never suspected she would be just as skilled at such . . . menial tasks.’

After all these years, she was still more than capable of impressing him. When he had revealed just how bad their situation was, he had braced himself for her to leave him, and she would have been more than justified in doing so. She had her own family to go back to in Fillydelphia, and after all, they had asked her to come back enough times. But no, she had just looked at him and asked him what he thought their options were. What a Mare. Now, more than ever, he had to prove that he was worthy of being called her husband. He would take this fall and make himself stronger because of it. With some hard work, they could rebuild their fortune. Maybe not back in Manehatten, but somewhere they could make the Orange name carry weight once again.

Thus mentally girded, he went to join Valencia in bed. Without words, he began to rub her back. If his back was sore, hers had to be, and as expected, he quickly found the knots beneath his hooves. Slowly, he worked his way across her withers, gently pressing the muscles outward from the spine.

With all the work her neck had done today while weeding, it was no surprise that she was so tense here. Eventually he felt the knots loosen, and he moved on. Wrapping his foreleg around her barrel for leverage, he started to work his knee against the stubborn flesh of her back. Small circles at first, but using the strong pressure needed to be effective, he gradually spiraled outward as the areas relaxed.

As he progressed, the cute grunts Valencia made turned into sighs of relaxation. Having beaten her smarting sinews into submission, he switched from massaging, to rubbing. Just letting the frog of his hoof run gently up and down each side of her crest. Going with the lay of her coat, as if he were grooming her. Nothing therapeutic this time, barely enough pressure to be felt past her coat. All he wanted to do was to let her know that he was here, and that he cared about her. After a short time, the reassuring strokes seemed to have the desired relaxing effect, and her gentle breaths became shallower as she fell asleep in his embrace.

As her form relaxed against his, satisfaction seeped through his body. With all the stress, all the pointless drama that he had been through, this right here was what was important. To be able to hold his dearest close, and to feel that she accepted him. No one else’s opinion mattered, as long as she still welcomed his embrace at the end of the day. Feeling a sense of genuine contentment for the first time in recent memory, he let Luna’s night take him blissfully into the realm of dreams.

Author's Note

The “plantain” used in the stew is not the mini banana plantain, but rather the common weed of the same name and spelling. The leaves are edible by both equine and humans. They also have antibiotic properties, can be used as a poultice to treat insect bites, rashes, and can speed the healing of cuts and wounds. Taken internally by eating it, or as a tea, it is used to tread many kidney and urinary tract issues, as well as ulcers and respiratory illness. But, you know, just a weed.

Getting Clean

She beat him inside, and the water was running by the time he got to their room. “Ooh, COLD!” Came a cute squeal from the bathroom.

He nickered, “You need me to warm it up, Precious?”

“Oh, I think the two of us can defiantly warm things up in here,” She was able to keep a straight face for a full two seconds before breaking into a snicker, “Okay, so I stink at dirty talk. Just get in here you fool.”

Fortunately, the stall was more than spacious enough for the two of them, as he stepped over the lip to join her under the now warm spray. He gave his still grinning spouse a deep kiss, and reached for the showerhead’s arm to make sure she was thoroughly soaked. It was the common model, the nozzle aimed straight down, with a track extending half the length of the stall. Sliding back and forth with a handle near knee height. After the workday the two of them had, having a helping set of hooves to get clean would certainly be a boon. Dispensing a generous dollop of the, of course, apple scented shampoo, they traded spots so the spray wouldn’t wash away the lather before he was done.

He began with her mane, removing the scrunchy that she had used to put it into a bun today. Foresight making her forgo the styled coiffure she normally favored. ‘At least I won’t have to fight the manespray,’ He thought as he massaged the lather through her hair.

He loaded up the loofa and started to scrub down her face. Taking advantage of her closed eyes, when he rinsed the shampoo off, to steal a kiss. Slowly, and thoroughly he washed her pale coat. Taking the advantage of the heat, and the slickness of the soap to provide and impromptu massage in the process. As he gently cleaned the underside of her barrel, he could tell that the both of them were enjoying themselves from the sighs allowed to escape.

After working his way down all four of her hooves, he rinsed out the loofa and finished her coat by polishing her Cutie Mark. Those three orange slices attracted every eye, but were saved for him alone. Then it was time for her tail. Again he loaded up his hoof with shampoo, then started with the tip of her tail and began to work his way up. Every gentle pull he made as he scrubbed the tangerine hairs subtly pulled at their roots, and he was rewarded for his labors by seeing his wife’s dock slowly rise.

He adored being able to cause this kind of reaction in her. That by a simple cleaning, he could raise her tail. Being able to tease each other into a frenzy went back to their courtship, and of course, Public Displays of Affections were gauche in Society, so they had made a game of it. Subtle brushes against each other, a ‘casual’ breath into an ear, they perfected the art of public foreplay, and had never been called on it. The thrill of raising each other’s heat, in full view of everyone just added to the fun.

Eventually he reached the base of her tail, and finished cleaning her now fully raised dock. Then he reached for the showerhead and began rinsing off her lathered body, smiling all the way. After finishing he announced, “As you said, if I would groom your coat, you would groom mine.”

He admired the expression of pleased frustration on her face, “As I said,” She smirked, slapping his chest with her wet tail as she took the showerhead to soak him down.

She started with his tail, he playfully flicked her lightly in retaliation for her swipe as she worked out the accumulation of the day’s work. Grinning, she nipped him on his croup as she rinsed out the shampoo, and began to work the soapy loofa across his back. “Ahhh mmmm,” He sighed. This was wonderful.

As Valencia worked the sweat and grime out of his coat, he could feel the tension melt out of his sore back. The day had taken its toll on him, and this was the perfect way to unwind. Under his wife’s gentle ministrations the weight of the day’s toil melted away, and he closed his eyes.

He jumped as she took advantage of his dropped guard and nipped the base of his ear. His grin erupted across his muzzle as she returned to cleaning his legs, she was always surprising him. She took particular care to clean his fetlock, and he could not repress the shiver despite the still hot spray from above. How many times had she slyly glided her hoof along that secret sensitive spot at a party.

Valencia switched gears on him again by moving from his hind legs to shampooing his mane. As she worked the lather into his green hair, she worked it down his muzzle purposefully. He had to close his eyes as his entire head became coated in perfumed foam. She softly rubbed the base of his ears before backing off, ‘Where is she now,’ he wondered, as the scent from the lather keeping him from tracking her by scent.

Again she got a jump out of him. The sliding of her hoof against the inside of his hind leg was unexpected. The soothing nature of her touch was at odds with the feelings she was producing in him. As she moved upwards, brushing across the nubs of his small nipples, he began to drop out of his sheath with a small groan.

Still keeping up the pretense of the shower, he felt the loofa work against the underside of his barrel. This was torture, he could not see or smell what was going on, and his sense of touch was going into overdrive. He loved it.

She never touched him as he stiffened, though he could feel the heat of her hoof as she stroked the loofa back and forth against his belly. So close, but so far away. The tension she was building in him was excruciating. She finally broke him when he felt her broad, soft tongue wrap around him, just ahead of his sheath. Drawing her tongue and lips slowly down his *shaft*, she milked the last lingering vestiges of softness from him.

“Now, let us get you rinsed off,” She said as she pulled away just before meeting his flare.

He could not restrain his groan at the glorious tease she had just given him. She was good. He allowed himself to enjoy the last of the shower as Valencia removed the lather from his mane and head. Once he could safely open his eyes, he saw the evil grin on her face that he had known was there the entire time.

“You know, you are very good at being bad, my Dearest,” he admonished before kissing her passionately.

Her grin widened, “You would know, you were the one who taught me, after all.”

They bantered playfully as they toweled each other off and headed out of the bathroom. She led the way again, her dock still raised high, flicking her tail back and forth to waft her scent to him. She knew what was coming as she lay her forelegs and chest on the bed, still standing with her hinds. Now he was the one to nip at her, playfully nibbling her cutie mark as she groaned with pleasure.

Putting his knees on either side of her, he began to walk slowly forward until his heat met hers. He grabbed her withers with his teeth the way he knew she loved and entered her.

Teasing himself more than her with how slowly he made the initial penetration. Goddess, how he had missed being with her, it had been almost a month since the last time they had made love. But now was not the time to think about that, now was just for the two of them.

He finally bottomed out, feeling his mare grasp him inside her. Her winey of pleasure was unrestrained here, where they had no need to worry about what the neighbors would think. As he began to thrust, she kept up her internal grip on him. Trying to pull him back every time he began to withdraw. As the waves of pleasure spiraled through him, he had to keep himself from speeding up. This felt too amazing for him to allow it to end quickly.

Instead, he began to vary his motions. He shortened his thrusts, gradually back out of her. Then, just before he pulled out, he went as deep as he could in a single quick thrust. Feeling his flare run the full length of her at speed, he bent his head back and let go a long groan at the sensation, matching his wife’s gasp of ecstasy.

He was able to keep this pattern up for a while, but gradually he felt the pressure inside him building. Just in time Valencia began the shuddering that he knew preceded her own release. With this signal he gave up any pretense to pacing himself, and began to pound away. As fast and as hard as he could, over and over into her velvet folds. As her orgasm crested, the walls around him spasmed and he allowed himself to let go inside her. Her muscles were quivering around him, making it all the more intense for him, Valencia’s moans of abandon louder than his. Until, with a huge sigh he crested the peak.

He reluctantly separated from his mate, and went to collapse on the bed next to her to catch his breath. His head next to hers, they both tried to regain their strength, but for the moment, a shared satisfied smile was all they could manage. And that was enough.

An Evening of Inspiration

Reluctantly, they rose from the bed. “I’ll get started making the salad,” Mosley offered.

“Okay,” Valencia replied without complaint, “I think I can trust you to do that without burning it, but allow me take care of the main course.”

He snickered at her jibe, and went to the kitchen while she washed up. Fortunately Valencia had already brought a good selection of greens inside, so in short order he had the opening course assembled. ‘We do need to make a run to town soon,’ He thought, ‘At least to get some bread, maybe some . . .’ He began to make a mental shopping list as he set the table and put out the salad.

“Oh, good, you didn’t burn the salad,” Valencia ribbed him as she went to the kitchen to throw together a stew. “My confidence was well placed after all.”

“Ha Ha,” He deadpanned with a smile. I was just thinking that we could do with a few things from the market. Fresh veggies from our garden is wonderful, but a sandwich for variety wouldn’t be amiss now and then.”

“That reminds me, after supper, I will see if I can put some of the edibles we pulled today under soil before they wither out. We can do full planting tomorrow since there is no lighting outside.” Setting the stew to simmer, she joined him at the table.

As they began their meal, they discussed what would be best to get from the local market. Including a handful of firefly lamps, so as to be able to finish up things in the evening. He doubted that their budget would accommodate buying magically charged gems for the purpose, even if they could find them in this hamlet.

As they moved on to the stew, the topic turned to potential crops. Over the day, Mosley had spent a fair amount of time examining the soil as he weeded, and was pleased by what he had found. “As far as what the field will support, I think our options are wide open. This ground has lain fallow for at least a full season, and wasn’t over used before that, so it is just aching to push out some bumper crops. We just have to decide what will suit our needs.”

“I suppose speed of harvesting is probably the most important, obviously planting orange trees is out of the question,” She sighed, “Perhaps carrots, or corn?”

As they tossed ideas back and forth, again Mosley was impressed by his wife’s knowledge of the details of farming. “What is going to matter most, is the turnaround of our first crop. I mean, we don’t have much overhead right now, and that helps considerably,” He winced, “But our ‘nest egg’ won’t last forever, and we will have some operating expenses. Perhaps a staggered crop. Some quick growing to help out, then augmented with some slower growing but more profitable that we can harvest later. This is going to take a while.”

“Well, while you crunch the numbers, I will go take care of our future garden before the light fails,” Leaving him to the dishes, she kissed him and stepped outside.

As he did the dishes, he tried to remember what he had learned as a colt about crop yields and growth rates. He finally acknowledged that he just hadn’t paid enough attention back then. He had been too focused on leaving the farm to learn about it. Finished with the dishes, he switched gears. He got some paper from their still not fully unpacked luggage, and sat back down at the table to work out a budget.

When Valencia returned, he was deep in thought, chewing on the end of the quill. “How goes the planning?” She inquired.

“Not great, even without having to pay for rent on the land, I figure that we only have enough bits to last for four months, If we scrimp and eat mainly from the garden. And that is assuming that I estimated the cost of the seeds to sow the area we have correctly. It might take us a half a month just to complete planting done. Getting the weeding done was a great start, but there is a lot of work still to do.” He stretched with a groan, “The problem is that I don’t know what would be the best crops to plant. It dawned on me that we can’t just guess what plants will sell for by basing it on what they cost at the store back in Manehatten.”

“Well, perhaps some ‘market’ research can be done tomorrow while shopping,” She said with a smile.

Groaning at her pun, “Not a bad idea, I have no inclination to jump into action again, unless we are fully informed. I’ve learned my lesson.”

His wife rewarded him with a kiss. “I know you have, and now is the time for us to move forward. Together I am sure we will succeed.”

“I hope you know, that I know just how lucky I am to have you by my side, Dearest.” With that, they sat for the evening, brainstorming about their possibilities by the light of a single candle. Untill the toil of the day got them got them both cracking their jaws with yawns. So they retired to the bedroom, and crashed. Spooning his dear mare, Mosley quickly fell asleep.

“Mosley.Wake up!” The urgency in her voice made him start from his slumber.

“What’s wrong,” He said, matching her whisper.

“Alice woke me up, and I heard something from outside,” She looked frightened, not an expression he was used to seeing on her usually composed face, “I know we are close to the Everfree Forest, do you think it could be some monster from there?”

He listened for a moment, “I don’t hear anyth,” Then it came, a wild howl from beyond the wall, “Okay, I heard that, but I have never heard anything like it. I’ll go take a look.”

“Are you sure, maybe it will just go away?” He could hear the concern in her voice, but they needed to know what was outside. If they needed to take precautions, it was better to know now, than after something went wrong.

“I’ll be careful, just stay here. I will be right back.” As the words left his mouth, he suddenly realized that he was meeting the requirements for a campfire story and he repressed a shudder. He would just take a quick look and see what it was and be back inside before anything could happen.

The full moon made him glad that it wasn’t a ‘Dark and Stormy’ night, but at the same time he was worried about being seen by whatever was out there.

As he followed the strange sounds, he realized that he really needn’t have worried, and he quietly returned to his worried spouse.

“Well, there is a beast out there,” He began,” and it has two backs!”

The look of worry on her face turned to one of confusion at this, “A beast with two backs? What are you talking about . . . Ohhhhh,” The light dawned, “Do you mean there is a couple out there . . . Coupling?”

“There certainly is, and they seem very enthusiastic about each other,” He grinned, “I don’t want to be rude, but we should probably let them know that there is someone living here now.”

Valencia blushed adorably, “I suppose that it would be better to tell them now than later. We should probably go out together.”

So saying, they both went outside, but decided to give their visitors a chance to compose themselves. Staying behind the corner of the cabin, Mosley called out, trying to add a touch of dry humor to his voice, “Pardon us, do you think that it might be possible for the two of you to keep the noise down a bit. We are trying to sleep in here, you know.”

The gasp of surprise, and sound of scrambling let them know their message was received. After a few moments, they walked around the cabin to meet the trespassers.

The couple before them looked quite abashed at being caught, yet they had disentangled themselves and did not seem like they were about to bolt.

“Good evening,” Mosley decided to open with courtesy, “My name is Mosley Orange, and this is my wife, Valencia. We just moved in yesterday to begin tending this land, and you are?”

“Oh! Um, well, this is awkward,” The yellow coated mare, sporting a now disheveled styled blue mane started, nervously flicking her ears, “I am Thicket Blossom, and this is Rodger,” She said gesturing to the green Earth Pony with a darker green mane next to her.

“Rodger?” Mosley blurted before he could help himself.

“Yes, my name is Rodger the Shrubber. We are very sorry to have bothered you both, we thought this place was vacant,” replied the stallion.

“Perhaps we should go inside, so as to continue this conversation more comfortably,” Valencia suggested.

“Indeed, do come join us for a pot of tea,” Mosley insisted. If nothing else, this was an interesting diversion.

Confused by their host’s courtesy, the newcomers never less followed them inside the small cabin. Valencia busied herself brewing a pot of wild thistle and plantain tea for them, while Mosley tried to open the conversation.

“So, did you two have a few too many ciders and got lost, just why were the two of you entertaining yourselves in an empty field?” He opened.

They pair of them looked more than a little nervous, “You aren’t going to call the Guard on us?” Thicket Blossom asked.

“Now why would we do that? No real harm was done, was there? The two of you thought this place was vacant, so it’s not like you were trying to disturb the peace.” Valencia returned, “But I am curious as to why the two of you chose to be intimate out here in the first place.”

“Well, I suppose an explanation is the least we can give you after disturbing your rest,” Rodger said, “The truth is that we find being outdoors just kind of liberating. We kind of get off on doing it outside,” He blushed, “One time we found a bunch of bushes in a park with a hollow in the middle;”

Thicket Blossom finished his sentence, “It was the hottest thing we have ever done. Broad daylight, and we could hear other ponies on the other side of the leaves,” Now it was her turn to blush, “I had to bite my lip just to keep quiet. The thrill of risking being discovered,” A visible shiver ran through her, “Ever since, well, indoors just hasn’t cut it.”

“Weren’t you afraid of the possible consequences?” Mosley asked, “I can understand desiring a thrill, but if the wrong ponies caught you . . .” He didn’t have to finish the thought.

“I know, I know,” Rodger said, his head in his hooves, “But it wasn’t like we have any options. There aren’t really any places that would accept our . . . proclivities, and still be outdoors.”

“But what if there were?” Valencia mused, a dangerous spark in her eyes, “Rodger, Thicket Blossom, Do you think that there are many other Ponies with your extracurricular interests?”

Rodger thought a moment, “Well, we haven’t exactly advertised, but we have met a few others over the years who seemed like they would at least have liked to try it outdoors, but most seemed too scared of being caught.”

“There was that group of swingers we met out at Las Pegasus,” Thicket Blossom added, “They seemed up for anything.”

“Mosley, my dearest, I think I have an idea.” She turned to him and took a slow sip of tea, “What if we didn’t raise cops here, but instead made a tourist destination?”

“I don’t quite follow, Precious,” He responded, although he indeed had an inkling of where she was headed.

“I mean we open up an open air couples retreat. A place where the social restrictions of city life can melt away,” She began to grow in enthusiasm, “Once here, they could let go of all the inhibitions that can keep a couple from really knowing each other. Let some spice back into their lives. Rodger,” She barked.

“Huh? What’d I do?” He responded automatically.

“Exactly. What did you say you did for a living?” She asked a little gentler.

Relived to be on familiar ground, Rodger answered, “Shrubberies are my trade. I am a Shrubber. My name is Rodger The Shrubber. I arrange, design, and sell shrubberies,” He paused a moment, “I’m not quite sure why I reintroduced myself.”

“Perfect! Don’t you see, Dearest? We make a hedge maze. A Lover’s maze. Like the bushes this couple found, but bigger, and with other Ponies of like minds in on the game as well.” The spark had grown to a gleam in her eyes that he recognized. It usually meant trouble, but a trouble that he would thoroughly enjoy.

“Could you really do such a thing?” Thicket Blossom asked in awe.

“Well,” Mosley pondered, “We do have free use of the land as we see fit, at least for a year.” He recalled his time at The Club, in Manehatten, “If we make it a members only organization, the rules for what Ponies are allowed to do inside the club gets a lot more lenient. Honestly, as long as we took proper care for privacy, not letting random Ponies see things that might ‘upset’ them, I think that it could be pulled off.” He Looked at their guests, “What do the pair of you think, is this something that there could be a market for?”

The look in their eyes was certainly enthusiastic, “Are you kidding?” Rodger blurted, “We would be first in line, and I think that we have enough contacts to spread the word. The best most ponies have to hope for is a friend of like mind who can spare an extra room for play. But a club that is built around exhibitionism, I think you would be amazed at the number of applicants.”

Mosley had his reservations, but he looked at Valencia and saw the sparkle in her eyes. He couldn’t refuse that look, and besides, despite what she had said, he owed her. He let out a grin, “Well then, I guess we have picked what we will be planting.”

Valencia suddenly embraced him as their visitors looked on smiling, “Well,” She began as they separated, “How about we come back to this in the morning. Later in the morning that is.”

They bade their new friends goodbye, after arraigning to have them come back for further discussion in the afternoon. As they got back into bed he observed, “This was certainly an interesting interlude. I certainly never expected to get inspiration for our farm in such an unconventional manner.”

“Well, I know it is quite a departure from what we have been talking about, but I don’t know, it sort of feels right,” She looked a little conflicted, “It doesn’t seem right that Ponies who just want to enjoy each other’s company, have to go worrying about getting into trouble with the Guards. Does it? If have the chance to offer refuge for others, and possibly help ourselves out at the same time, it just sounds like the right thing to do.”

He wrapped his legs around her in a loving embrace, “Your heart, as always, is in the right place, Precious. And while this idea is definitely out there, I do think that it has a good chance of working out for everyone. We have a lot of planning to do in order to make it a reality, but we can do that after we get some sleep. Everything will work out as long as we do it together,” So saying, he kissed his wife, blew out the light, and began trying to get back to sleep.

Author's Note

Now things shall start to warm up. :heart:

Making Business from Pleasure

As Mosley felt the chicken walk up towards his face, he opened his eyes and stared Alice down, “Don’t even think about it.” He hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. Plans and problems kept boiling through his head keeping him up, but he felt that this had preemptively solved a few of their potential roadblocks.

As his wife was still snoozing, he got up to make the morning meal, waking her up by bringing her breakfast in bed.

“Good morning,” He said, gently nuzzling her, “Time to begin the day.”

Valencia reluctantly opened her eyes, “Good morning, Dearest,” Then she saw the bowl he had brought in for her and smiled, “Are you trying to butter me up for something?”

“Not at all, I just thought turnabout was fair. You deserve a nice morning, besides, we have the first of many busy days ahead of us,” His jaws cracked with a yawn, “I never got back to sleep, so I spent the night brainstorming about the steps we might want to look at for this new venture we are planning.”

He joined her on the bed, as she began to eat, “Let us get the obvious out of the way; are you still sure you want to pursue this . . . , well I can’t think of a diplomatic way of putting it, opening of a sex club?”

“First off, I think that ‘Couple’s Retreat’ would be the right term. Secondly, yes I do still think it is a good idea,” She said between delicate mouthfuls of her morning salad, “If there are a few Ponies who feel the need to go trespassing in the dead of night just to add a bit of spice, then there must be many others who want to add some variety to their lives, but are afraid to take the risk. If we can offer a safe place for them to explore their wild side, then I feel that they will seek us out.”

“Okay then, a Couple’s Retreat we will make,” He paused, “Just outside the hamlet of Ponyville, and bordering the venerable Sweet Apple Acres. I am confident that won’t have repercussions biting us in the haunches later.”

“I am sure that they will be understanding, and we will cross that bridge if we come to it,” She reassured him, “What do you think about Rodger and Thicket Blossom? I got a very good feeling from them last night. I really think that, with their help, we can create a lover’s maze that would be a wonderful attraction.”

“One of the things I was thinking about last night was how to make this happen with our limited budget. From their enthusiasm, I believe that they might trade their expertise for the promise of membership. However the hedges themselves are something that will certainly require bits. As will other privacy features.” He sighed, “If this is going to be an open air retreat, we will need something to camouflage it from the air or we will have non-paying pegasi peeping.”

They relocated to the dining table with some parchment and quills to start their planning. This outlining took them near to lunch.

“Oh my,” Valencia said with a start, as she caught the time, “I was going to the market today wasn’t I? Do you mind if I step out for a bit to do the shopping, I think my head could use some clearing anyway. I will finish the garden when I return”

“Sounds like a good idea, I need to clear out the cobwebs myself,” Deciding to try to be productive about it, “I’ll go walk the land. Try to get at least a rough idea of how many hedges we will need.”

As Valencia gathered her saddle bags and left to some shopping, he went over their notes. This was looking to be an ambitious project. Many of the ideas they would have to put on the back burner, simply because they lacked the capital, but it did look like they just might be able to pull this off.

Stretching out the stiffness acquired from sitting hunched over papers for too long, he set out to look at the land. It was still as empty and as full of promise as yesterday. He took his time, carefully counting his paces, and began to build a mental map of how a maze might be laid out. When he returned inside, he transferred his ideas into sketches, noting his carefully remembered measurements. It took a few tries and do-overs, but eventually he had a nice looking maze. Focused more on semi secluded alcoves, rather than being a puzzle, he was a little surprised on the amount of hedges that it would need in order to be completed. This might be more expensive than they had thought, but they could always find corners to cut, start off simpler and plan for expanding later perhaps.

While he was pondering, Valencia returned, saddlebags full, and a wide smile on her muzzle. “I have great news, sweetheart!”

“Oh,” He looked up, “What happened?”

“Well, while I was shopping, I met this lovely Unicorn wearing a Dah’ling little chapeau. After I complimented her on it, she said that she made it herself, and was the town’s local fashionista.”

“Okay?” He couldn’t really see where this was going.

“Well, not only does she have a shop here, but also in Canterlot, and Manehatten,” Her smile widened, “Because she designs her own fashions, she is always trying to keep up to date on the trends. I discreetly mentioned how we were worried about our privacy, one thing led to another, and she promised to put up an anti-peeping shield around our little valley, in exchange for my old dresses back in Manehatten! I will give her a letter to show the storage company, and the next time she goes to check on her outlet there, she will pick them up. However, she insisted on performing the spell first, and said she would come by tomorrow and cast it.”

“That is great news!” Once again Valencia had impressed him with her resourcefulness, “You are sure that you don’t mind losing your dresses?”

“Oh pish, it isn’t like I am going to miss them, honestly, it isn’t like they were all that comfortable,” She tried to hide a wince of small regret, but he saw it and loved her all the more for it, “Besides, one less expense for our little start up is what is important. From what she was saying, it isn’t as simple a spell as we might have thought, she said that she needed to consult with her friend, who is apparently quite the Spellsmith, in order to make sure it is done right. Who knows how much an unscrupulous Unicorn might have charged us to do it.”

“You are right, of course,” He waved her over to the table, “Let me know what you think of these:” He gestured at his various rough sketches for the maze.

They spent the next few hours tossing ideas back and forth, with a short break for lunch, when a knock at the door interrupted them. It was Rodger and Thicket Blossom, on time for their meeting.

After settling in around the table, Mosley chose to stand again, he opened things up, “I have to say we are glad to see you decided to come, we have a lot to go over,” And so saying, he laid out the rough plans for their ‘Couples Retreat’. Valencia taking notes as their guests offered input.

It turned out that the idea of trading membership for hedge work was something the pair was very enthusiastic about. The plants themselves, however, would have to be bits up front just as he had feared.

“The good news,” Rodger told them, “Is that with the number of plants you are talking about, I know I can get a bulk sale discount.”

So, after a little debate, Valencia and he decided upon the most that they would be able to allocate for the hedges. Thicket Blossom and Rodger taking the information, and their leave, to see about the purchasing of the maze to be. Valencia then went outside to see about finishing the garden that kept being put off, leaving Mosley alone with his thoughts.

‘I have to say,’ He ruminated, ‘That I never thought I would ever see this land head in this direction. Time will tell how it all turns out, but things just may be starting to go our way.’

Author's Note

Ah, the background 5

Movin' forward

“Well everypony, we had a good run, but it’s over.”

Mosley looked over the small crowd in front of him. Friends, business partners, family, and die-hard customers. It had only been a half a year since they had arrived here in Ponyville, though it seemed like it had been 1,375 days since they had decided to start work on their Couples Retreat. Heh, “Couples Retreat”, that model didn’t last long. Oh sure, they had quite a few couples that were consistent members, but the vast majority of their traffic had ended up being from tourists. And that popularity had ended up being their downfall.

A few ponies here and there were easy to overlook, but word had spread, and spread fast. Soon the extra railroad customers began drawing eyes and ears. And complaints. In the end, after successfully fending off numerous threats and dozens of legal challenges, the Department of Zoning was what had taken them down. Not for being too close to the schoolhouse (as one civil suit had alleged), but because the land they had made the hedge maze upon was only listed as being for agricultural use. So it wasn’t the noise complaints from the enthusiastic members, but because the land wasn’t authorized to host a tourist attraction, that meant they had to move on.

Valencia and Mosley made their way through the crowd of those they had become close too (some closer than others), bumping hooves, sharing hugs, and swapping addresses. Their baggage had been sent to the train earlier, so it was just the two of them and their saddlebags as they topped the small hill that had secluded their temporary home and too successful business. They stopped at the crest, and turned around for one last look back.

“I can hardly believe I am saying this, dah’ling, especially after everything we did to be able to do so,” Valencia turned to face him, “but I actually don’t want to leave.”

He sighed, “I know what you mean, my love, but we need to look forward. Besides, we have another adventure ahead of us to look forward to still.”

Indeed, with the bits they had made, while not more than he had lost those months ago, would be more than enough for them to move their new venture forward. While it would be a while before they would return to Ponyville, enough time for the Coalition of Underrepresented Normal Townspony Sentinels to lose their steam at least, Green Acres would return. Or at least an owner of their new Trademarked franchise would be back. Their stint here had taught them many things, mostly mistakes to avoid in the future. However, they also learned that the prudish ponies, while very vocal and tenacious, were definitely a minority in Equestria. Even though they were aware that they were being shut down, they had already received deposits from four different ponies wanting to open up copies of their “farm” in their towns. Now they just had to have their Manehatten lawyers (that they now could afford again) draw up the contracts, polish up their How-To instructions, and collect the monthly franchise fees.

After arriving at the station, and checking that Alice was comfortable in the livestock car, they settled into their private cabin on the train. Soon the farm living, wide spread lands, scent of hay, and daily chores would be behind them. Soon they would be back in the Manehatten Metropolis, their new penthouse overlooking Park Avenue, patronizing the stores, and trading in the fresh air for Times Square. But as for the future, it looks like Green Acres would always be there for them.

Author's Note

I told you it wasn't dead, just

First Dawn on the Farm

“Brawk! . . .Brawk! . . .Brawk!”

‘What the,’ Mosley’s mind rebelled, ‘My alarm clock shouldn’t go “Brawk”, what’s goin’ on?’

Reluctantly he opened his eyes, and beheld a pair of obsidian beads, preceded by a short tan dagger. As he jerked back, the full features of Alice resolved before him. “Okay, I’m up. Are you planning on doing this every morning?”

The hen just stared at him. Even though she didn’t have any lips, he could have sworn that she was smirking at him. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate, now he had a chicken with a superiority complex for an alarm clock. Just lovely.

He rolled over to discover that, yet again, Valencia was one step ahead of him. Hearing noises from the kitchen, he decided to take a shower to wake up before breakfast. The hot water steamed over his coat, letting the heat sinking luxuriously into his abused muscles. ‘I guess the city did make me soft,’ He acknowledged, ‘If I feel like this after only half a day of weeding, I can only imagine how bad off I will be this time next week. Still, the results will be worth the pain, and I can only get stronger.’ Letting thoughts melt away, he turned and faced away from the showerhead to let the steamy water do its magic on his back.

As he felt something softer than the water on his neck, he opened his eyes to the vision of his wife, as she nuzzled his neck with hers. “Thank you for last night,” Valencia murmured into his wet mane, “Your magic hooves melted away kinks from places I didn’t know I could get knots. That was the best sleep I have had in years.”

“There are two things about farm living,” He admitted, “The first is that after a day in the fields, sleep always comes easy and deep.” He smiled, “The second is that you will never lack an appetite. What are your thoughts for breakfast?”

After they finished drying each other from the shower, Valencia lead him hoof in hoof to the kitchen, reveling the fresh greens she had selected for their morning meal. Again he had to marvel at how much of a difference the freshness made in the taste. He also noticed that they both made twice as much disappear as they normally did for the first meal of the day.

“Our first full day on the farm,” Valencia opened, “With all the vegetation we are uprooting, I was thinking it would be a good idea to start a compost heap.”

He widened his eyes, “That is a really good idea. By the time we have sprouts, the compost will be ready to spread.”

‘But how did you think of it?’ He thought to himself, then aloud, “I think I can knock together a bin from some spare boards in no time, and I am sure Applebloom would be willing to gather some worms to seed it for us as well.” A smile cracked his lips at the thought of the filly going worm hunting.

“Do you think we will be able to finish the weeding today? I must admit that I am a smidgeon eager to get this farm truly started,” There seemed to be an eager light in her eyes that he could not recall seeing before.

He did a bit of fancy mathematics in his head, “Well, yes. I do think that, barring any unseen issues, we should be well able to polish off the weeding before dark. Even with the odd side project thrown in. Tomorrow just might see us start planting.”

Sharing a smile, they cleared the dishes and headed out to start the day’s labor. He decided that it would make more sense to start back on the weeds after he built a bin to put them in. Unfortunately, this meant he would have to make another trek back to the barn at Sweet Apple Acres proper to get more lumber.

So, after eyeballing the weeds they had pulled so far in order to get a good guess at the size of the box he would need to build, he hitched himself, yet again, to the cart and headed down the path.

Applejack met him just as he was nearing the barn, “Hey there Uncle Orange, whotcha need?”

“Well Valencia had the smart Idea that we should compost all the weeds we are pulling, so I was hoping that there was some spare lumber lying around that I could use to build a box for it all,” He supplied, “How about it?”

Appplejack gave him a wide grin, “Lumber fit for a compost bin, huh? That I can help you with.” With that, she led him behind the barn where there was a huge pile of boards.

“My word! What did all these come from?” They had obviously been used before.

Applejack gave a shucks look at him, “Well, this is some of our last two barns. We seem to have a bit of bad luck when it comes to keepin’ them in one piece. We reused what we could, but this here’s the leftovers. Actually, I am glad you stopped by, Big Mac asked me to do something earlier, but I forgot. Help yourself to whatcha need, I’ll be right back.”

Well, at least he had a wide selection to choose from. He set out pulling boards the right lengths aside. It took him a while to make the selections, and just as he was finishing, Applejack trotted back.

“Sorry it took me so long. Darn papers never seem to be where I left them,” She passed him a pair of short scrolls, “These here are our sharecropper contracts, a copy for each of us. Ifen it wer up to me I wouldn’t ask, but,” She looked abashed, “Even though you are kin, procedure and all . . .”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand, and take no offense,” He looked over the scroll, “25% of any revenue generated from use of the land, for the period of one year . . . Option to renew after this period . . . No products to be produced that directly compete, or undercut the business of Sweet Apple Acres . . . It seems fair enough, I don’t have any problem signing off on this.” And so saying, he took the quill Applejack was holding, and signed both copies under Applejack’s signature, passing one of them back with the quill.

“Again, I’m sorry I had ta ask,” She tried to assure him, “It really has nothing to do with what happened back . . .”

Mosley interrupted her, “I know Applejack. Paperwork is a part of running a business, and I understand that Sweet Apple Acres is a business. We both appreciate you allowing us to lease this plot from you, and we know you don’t hold my mistakes against us.” He began to get back into the harness, “I better get back and throw this bin together before your Aunt starts wondering about me. Thank you for the wood, we’ll see you later, okay.”

“Well, we are neighbors, after all. Good luck Uncle.” With that, she went back to the house, and he headed back to their field.

Once he got back, he was able to build the simple open bottomed box fairly quickly. It was no work of art, but it seemed more than adequate for its job. He started it off with the piles of refuse that they had pulled yesterday, and then set off with his hori hori to return to the battle against the invading flora.

Taking his wife’s lead, he set aside the tastier of the wild plants to re-sow in a garden area for personal use. Losing himself quickly in the methodic routine of his labor, flowing on automatic. It was not until Alice alit upon his head, interrupting his revere, that he notice that the sun was past the midday mark. Again, his wife had been able to stay more in touch with things, and had already retreated inside the cabin to prepare their lunch.

“Dah’ling, don’t look now, but you have a chicken on your head,” his observant spouse reported. His avant-garde headwear choosing that moment to squawk.

“Indeed? Well it is no wonder my thoughts have been so flighty,” He quipped as he gently set Alice down from her roost. “Thank you for, yet again, making sure that I remembered to eat. It is just, well, I am not sure how to describe it. Somehow I just get into the zone out there. The actions, simple and unrefined as they are, have just come back so naturally to me,” He hung his head, “As odd as it sounds, I think I am actually enjoying myself out there in the dirt.”

His wife came over to him, and lifted his head with her hoof, “You are right, it is odd.”

He just stared at her, until she continued, “That we came from one of the highest canters of culture, spent years refining our skill at the art of hobnobbing . . . We, who have spent more on a single restaurant meal than some Ponies spend on an entire month’s rent, have fallen so far that we find ourselves needing to grub around in the dirt.” He couldn’t help it, his eyes began to glisten as he felt anew the weight of his shame, “And yet,” His ears perked at the lilt in her voice, “I am the happiest I have ever been.” And then she kissed him.

He couldn’t believe it. His haunches fell to the floor as the strength evaporated from his legs. He could see in her eyes the sincerity of her words, and the final vestiges of decorum left him as the tears fell to the freshly cleaned floor beneath him. “How can you be happy?” He asked uncomprehendingly, “I failed you utterly. With a single, stupid, naive move, I destroyed your life.” He couldn’t stop now, the dam had burst, “All the money I lost, and with it the parties, jewels, our Penthouse, our friends; Gone!”

Here she stopped him, moving her hoof from his chin to cover his mouth. “What friends? Do you truly think that real friends would have treated us like those, those, SNOBS?” She spat the word with venom behind it, "Those Ponies only played a game. A game of manipulation, backstabbing, and false faces. A game that, as soon as we chose to start playing, we lost. All we were doing, with the spending, the parties, the social climbing, was keeping our loss slowed down a bit.” Here her voice lifted again, “Yes, it was horrible that we were rooked by those charlatans, but, at the end of the day, I am glad. It took me so long to see the truth of the world in which we were living, that I could no longer see the way back. And you, my sweet, adorable, naive stallion. You were in deeper than I, and I could never find the words to break the spell you were still under.”

He embraced her tightly, “I was blind. I thought that I could succeed, even win at that game, and that in doing so I could bring you happiness,” He winced, “And yes. I did think that they were my friends. I thought that the way they treated us was because I had hurt them, but you are right. True friends don’t punish each other. They help each other through the hard times, as have helped me.” He released her so he could see her face, “Do you really mean it, though” Are you genuinely happy here?”

Smiling, she stared him in the eyes, “I am happy because I am with you. In the city, there was so much that kept us apart. Here, we are working side by side. I would gladly never walk another paved street if it meant we could continue as we have these past few days.”

“Well then, I guess we are farmers,” He laughed, “All those years I spent trying to make it in the big city, and look at me now.” He gestured to his orange coat, now tan from the sweat and dirt of the day, “I guess I really am an Earth Pony at heart, and you are with me despite this.”

“No love, I am with you because of it,” A shadow crossed her face, “You know that I grew up in Society. I wasn’t allowed to dirty my hooves with any kind of physical labor. Even my dolls tea parties had servant dolls to pour. Once I started to hear you talk about your family’s farm, and how you lived growing up, well, my curiosity was peaked. While you were working, or at the Club, I devoured books. Anything I could lay my hooves on, as long as it was connected to farm life.” She looked a bit sheepish, “I must admit, I was a bit of a hassle for the kitchen help. They put up with quite a bit, what with all my incessant questioning. They are to whom much credit is due for my cooking skills, such as they are. Perhaps it is a case of the grass seeming greener where you think you will never be able to graze, but I can only say that I feel contentment here with you.”

Mosley was dumbstruck. He had never suspected the hidden dreams his wife had cultivated all these years. How would he have responded if she had revealed her desires before the fall of last week? Probably with complete incredulity, and of course, that is why she had kept them to herself. So, lacking the words, he just smiled, kissed his surprising bride, and went to set the table for their lunch.

The meal passed without further conversation, and none was needed. The words shared earlier seemed to open a deep connection between them. Everything just seemed to start to click between them as they returned to work the field following lunch. It was hard work, with their physiques unused to the labor, yet neither one of them could stop smiling. Such was their enthusiasm, that the entire plot of land had been cleared with several hours of daylight left to spare.

As they reached the final far corner of the field, in unison pulling their final respective weeds to add to the already high piled cart, they turned and looked out over the results of their labor. Taking it in from this angle made it seem like the land was broader than it had looked from the cabin. As they gazed silently, his chest began to get tight with pride from seeing the result of their hard work.

Suddenly, Mosley started laughing. Not the soft chuckle he had worked at cultivating for the Manehatten social scene. This was no polite cocktail party laugh. Nor was it a closed mouth, diaphragm induced “Heh Heh Heh”, such as was used at the Club when off color jokes were told by the Respected. No, this was a belly laugh. Deep and rumbling out of his bones. The kind of laugh he had never released since becoming an adult. A laugh full of joy.

Valencia, smiling, stared at him, “What makes you laugh so? Don’t get me wrong, it gladdens my heart to hear it, but why?”

He looked to her, his eyes wet with mirth, “Here we are, covered in dirt, looking out over a bare, empty plot of land,” He held a hoof to his aching sides, “And I have never been more proud!” He looked at her while gesturing out over the bare field before them, “Don’t you get it? This is the most satisfaction I have had from any accomplishment in years, and it is the making of this: Nothing!”

He kissed her, laughing again, “And I couldn’t have made nothing without you! Thank you, MY Precious Valencia, for standing with me through all of this. For being willing, for wanting to get your hooves dirty. But most of all, thank you for being you. It was your strength that made me want to be stronger.”

Smiling, Valencia gave him a deep embrace, neither of them caring about how dirty they both were, “Come on, you silly colt you, let us retire to our cottage. We need to plan out the next big nothing for us to accomplish!” She looked at their soiled coats a moment, “Besides, although I don’t mind getting my hooves dirty, it doesn’t mean I wish to stay dirty. She winked at him and began trotting, saying suggestively over her shoulder, “You groom my coat, I’ll groom yours.”

What could he do? This was an offer he couldn’t refuse, and so he followed his mare into their cabin, like the love-struck fool he was.

Author's Note

Ah, next chapter things will be getting; {Puts on Sunglasses} Steamy.