Scootaloo palmed the door knob and kicked open the door.

“Mail, dad!”

“Don’t you break my door again!” came a voice from from upstairs.

She nudged the door with her belly and kicked off a shoe in one fell swoop. Stepping on the side of her other shoe with her bare foot, she pried that one off and stepped into her house. Her fur was matted with sweat from her morning jog, but her current state along with suffering from a particularly extraordinary condition weighed little on her conscience.

“You should take it easy,” Azure said as he meandered down the stairs.

“You shouldn’t be shouting when we got a plus one in the house.”

“You shouted first, you dip.” Her dad hugged her close and kissed her forehead. Familiar banter it may be, he was right; it would do no pony any good if the air was suddenly inundated with the sound of crying. Azure was gambling with fate if the hand drifting lower and lower down her back was any indication.

“And I thought I was the cuddly one,” she said after squeaking. A firm hand plied her slowly softening rump. Not even a year ago, she could have bounced a coin off of her firm backside, but not she’d accumulated a fine layer of flab. Being pregnant would do that, and had the side effect of making her extraordinarily amorous towards her loving father.

Azure gave her butt a firm spank that made her jump, but let her go. “Anyway,” she continued, “doc said jogging was a safe exercise and I got to keep the pounds off, despite how much of a chubby chaser you are.”

Scootaloo sat down on the couch and proceeded to riffle through the envelopes and magazines. Azure, however, did not assert himself in his normal dad chair in front of the TV as usual, instead kneeling in front of her.

“Sorry, but I did wear undies today if you’re hoping for a sneak peek.”

He cracked his knuckles and palmed her right foot. Feeling his thumbs press into the arch of her foot made her emit a rather provocative groan, but she let her father continue his ministrations. Pregnancy was absolute hell on her body, but it was absolutely killer on her feet. Her fingers ran across the sweaty expanse of her stomach. It was difficult to tell now that her belly had lost much of its mass, but there was still an entire web of stretch marks across her now deflated tummy.

She was a mother. Her father was also her mate. She’d given birth not even a year ago and a little bundle of joy was just upstairs, sleeping the day away while another sibling grew in her belly. She was a sweaty athlete getting a massage by her father, who dotted kisses up her muscular calves. There was nowhere else in the world she’d rather be.

“You’re such a horndog,” she sighed.

“And you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

It as a pleasing feeling, to be worshipped. Her father, on his knees and showing his affection to his baby girl. What a marvelous sight to behold.

Despite her desire to stink up the couch with her musk and fall asleep, she still had a handful of letters to parse.

“Let’s see, we’ve got the internet bill and like the third blood drive reminder this week.”

“Mm hm,” he mumbled, his lips kissing up her thighs and getting awfully close to her marehood.

“Later,” she chided, giving him a tap on the head with one of his boring entertainment magazines.

“You’re no fun.”

“I need a shower, dad.”

“I like it when you glisten. Plus, I’m going to make you all hot and sweaty anyway, so why not just get it all out of the way at once?”

As if to prove his point, he ran his tongue along her thigh, making her groan in delight.

“I’m going to time you.”

He smiled. “Lookin’ forward to it.”

She paused. The last letter had a unique smell to it, one she hadn’t sampled in quite a long time. It was the ornate script of the return address that revealed the sender’s identity in a heartbeat. Scootaloo freed the letter from its confines and gave her father another firm tap on the head so she could concentrate.

She smiled and turned the letter to her father.

“Sweetie Belle’s having a baby shower.”

Author's Note

There be a sequel over them hills.