A Hard Day's Reward

You kick the tree. You've kicked the tree several times, in fact.

You're sure the other ponies will give you shit for not using the work buck, for which, they could go fuck themselves for—quite literally, in fact, as long as you're given a decent view and they're both females.

Well, okay, that isn't exactly fair. You are as blind to pussy as the blind are to, well, everything. You are equally as blind to cocks as well; the exception being your own. It creates quite the existential dilemma: you could start the day beveling you had the biggest dick around, only to equally believe at the day's end that you, in fact, had the smallest one around, and that information causes you to cry yourself to sleep.

You shake your head. You kick your foot. You hear apples pound against wood. Your train of thought had gotten off track, so, in summoning whatever willpower you had left at the day's end, gather your ramblings and compact them into a single thought.

You don’t oppose to watching two males fuck each other, granted; they have to be good looking enough to turn a straight man gay. But wait. Doesn't that defeat the whole purpose of finding out if you are gay in the first place?

"Howdy sugarcube!" a voice says from behind your back, causing you to look over your shoulder at the orange mare. For a moment, you briefly wonder if she could read your fucked up thoughts. "Well pluck my tail and call me a rainbow, you've got a full wagon with no buckets to spare!"

You turn around. As you do so, the descending rays of sunlight fall upon the earth pony, her trio of freckles glinting in the light as her forest green eyes shimmer. You try to speak, to boast and to brag, but the sight of the mare quells your suspicions.

You're probably not gay.

But then again, who could be in the sight of southern perfection? Applejack's hat is tilted forward, by purpose or by stray winds, so that the left of her face is covered by a shadow and her eye by the rim of her hat. Her lips, looking plush yet firm, always border on your mind as you kiss your mirror late at night—the darkness helping you believe that you aren't just kissing glass.

"You're paying me well enough, all things considering," you say, truthful about your words. You aren't completely beyond hope, after all. "Seems right I should do my fair share and then some, give you the illusion you didn't mess up in hiring me."

She laughs at your self-deprecation, and just like that, you feel your heart begin to race, and your claws starting to shake. Her laughter always seems sweeter, so much fuller of herself whenever you are the reason for it, and narcissism aside, it always made you feel like the first time you made her laugh.

"Trust me Sugarcube," she says, brushing the fur of her body against the scales of your hip as she walks past you, stopping once her hind hooves are adjacent to yours, "you're well worth the coin, maybe a bit more if ya keep this up."

You gaze down at her to smile, only for your cheeks to flush at what your eyes see. The barrel of her body is covered in a sheen of sweat, reflecting a bit of the sunlight, but you couldn't help but find it a major turn on—to both her dedication to her work and just how damn fine she looks when she is dirty.

The same dirtiness affects your mind as she flicks her tail against your crotch, granting you a view of her ample backside. Three apples glint at you, but you occupy yourself with the cheek they adorn. By Celestia, you’re going crazy at just the sight! Her butt cheeks are bigger than you'd find on most mares, while still being proportional to the rest of her body.

The orange twins always tempt you, to just steal a grab and land yourself in jail, but you've held back for the sake of your friendship. Part of the reason why you even took the job on the farm is to spend more time with Applejack and her glorious backside, both just as close to your heart, but, if you're being honest, you much rather having those cheeks rubbing across your chest.

You stagger backward, the heat of the day and the hotness of this mare is finally getting to you. Below, Applejack moves out of the way, her grin changing for a frown, as her eyes twinkle with concern. "Spike! Are ya okay?"

"Yeah," you reply, hiding your eyes behind your palm. Truth be told, you're not fine—your head is dizzy and your other head is sucking all the blood. Usually, being out of your mind is the perfect time to jerk the gherkin, but now isn't the time nor place. "Just didn't drink enough water is all." You remove your claw from your eyes, smiling down at the mare with faux confidence. "Don't worry; I still have enough in the tank to bring my load back home."

She didn't laugh at that. You're saddened by your failure in humoring her.

"Spike," she begins in a stern tone, staring up at you, "while it's noble to shut your trap and get the job done, nothing is more stupid than risking your health to do so." And just like that, her hoof grabs your claw, yanking you away from the tree and down the small hill you both are on.

You are confused as to what to do. You look back to your tree, something leaping in your chest at leaving a job half-finish, and yet, the winds make the tree wave a branch, and you take that as a sign as everything is okay between the two of you.

"Where are we going, Applejack?" you say, waving back to the tree.

"To set you down somewhere cool," she says, with an undertone you have difficulty cracking. It is a mixture of concern and...something else you aren't quite sure of. She lets go of your claw, which you clutch at the sudden absence of your touch. "Now follow along now and don't get loss. Can't have you passing out on the farm."

You nod your head, making the ground tremble and the trees shake, enticing you to vomit, and to make matters worse, she didn't even see your efforts. That summarises your life up pretty nicely: putting yourself into arbitrary pains for others just for them not to notice. But you aren’t too mad, after all.

Applejack's asscheeks jiggle more because of your nausea.

"Now you take a seat and don't do anything unless I say otherwise."

You wish you heard the same words from Twilight more often, but for now, they would have to suffice for now from Applejack. You do as she commands, sitting on a bale of hay that's set against the wall, which allows you lean your back into. You take a deep breath, the small barn you'd enter dim and surprisingly cool. You aching legs remind you of their presence with their burning muscles.

Overall, you'd say you had a good job at work.

Hoof-steps resound off the ground. You look up, seeing Applejack across the barn, with the handle of a bucket between her teeth and a glass of water on her back. She walks up, presenting her side to you, and you briefly wonder what you're supposed to do.

She shakes herself, her backside jumping ever so slightly. Is she giving you a chance? And then, you remember you're an idiot, and quickly taking the glass from her back—bringing it your lips and chugging back the cold liquid, hoping she hadn't seen your wandering eyes.

"You feelin' any better?" she asks you after putting down the basket. You notice a tint of pink to her cheeks, but chalk it off to her carrying your supplies through the heat.

"The water helped," you say, trying to stand up, only for you stumble and fall back down on your rear. "But it looks like I'm hopeless when I try standing up on my own two feet—go figure."

You chuckle and she doesn't. In fact, she's hiding her face behind her hat, and you're at a loss for why the sudden change.

"You're a right dumbass, y'know that?" she says, and before you can question the remark, she already has her hooves on the sleeves of your jacket and trying to pull it off.

You pull back against her charges. "What the hell, AJ?"

"It's because of your stupid clothes that you almost had a stroke!" she says, and for a moment, you are ready to blow up on her for calling your clothes stupid, but the sniffle at the end of her sentence eradicates any irritation you could have summoned up. "Now let me take 'em off and wash you off."

You're hesitant to let her do anything, but before you voice your confusion, you begin to notice how she refuses to make eye contact with you once. Her head has been dipped the entire time, almost in shame, as the shadow of her hat is cast across her face.

Sighing, you let her pull the sleeves off your arms. Before you can take the jacket off yourself, she steps up on the hay, her chest pressing against yours, both your muzzle in immediate proximity. Both your cheeks turn pink as the world begins to slow.

"Here," she says, her voice delicate and all so fragile, that you dare not speak for fear of breaking it. "Let me pull your coat off ya." She giggles softly, a small smile stretching her lips. "You've worked hard enough today."

You nod your approval, and for a moment, she beams. Then, she leans forward, brushing her cheeks against yours, and you can't help but nuzzle her neck as she reaches for your back. With your snout already at her neckline, you inhale deeply, smelling the natural scent of her body. You can hear her giggle as she pulls your jacket off your back, your nose apparently fantastic at tickling.

She throws your coat aside, the sound of it hitting the floor causing your heart to soar. Applejack tosses her hat aside as well, reliving the golden locks long hidden underneath, and you seriously begin to wonder just how much more you can take. Her smile widens; why did you feel so dirty?

"Next is your shirt," she says, her lock glinting in the stray sunlight, "do ya mind?"

"Not at all," you croak.

She smiles at you, before looking at your chest. You often wonder if ponies found dragon chest attractive or now, if pecs cause them to drool or to vomit, and you guess you are about to find out. She places a hoof on your chest, recoiling back at the sudden hard chest, before looking up to you again.

You're not quite sure what's happening, but you nod, never daring to deny the mare her curiosity—especially when it's about you.

She places her hoof back on your chest, gasping at just what lurks past the fabric, and you can't help but feel good. Slowly, she sets her other hoof on your other pec and begins to rub circles, much to your silent pleasure. Blood is being taken away again, and you look down just in time to see Applejack press her face against your chest, and as much as you want to save the image for all of eternity, you're far more worried about your little friend popping back up down below.

Your vision refocuses on Applejack, and the same is true of her for you. Both of you blush, but before you can say anything, she grips the collar of your shirt and pulls it up, saving herself in one swift moment as your shirt flies over your head and arms.

You feel a breeze waft across your upper-body. You delight in the cooling sensation.

"Well aren't you just a sight for sore eyes." You hear a voice say, snapping you from your delight as you look down, and you see Applejack...who's gaze is focusing solely on your body. "You weren't kidding about pulling no stops." She looks up at you, her smile wavering as you make eye contact. "You're going to make some mare extremelyhappy one day."

Your heart pangs at hearing that. In fact, it's the last thing you want to hear from her.

"I wouldn't say that," you say, your tone calming. "The reason why I even wear clothes is because I can't compare to what the other workers have going on. Besides, the moment a mare catches a whiff of what I've got going on upstairs—" you make a popping sound with your mouth "—poof! They're gone before I can even ask them to do the splits."

She laughs. Finally, you hear her laughter again, and once again, you're overjoyed to be the cause. She lets her fall back, straddling your legs for support, which causes little you to press harder against the ceiling of your pants. You sigh of relief as Applejack leans to the right, pulling out a sponge from the bucket with her hoof before sitting back up.

"Now Sugarcube, I don't want you to take offense and think I'm only doing this because you stink."

"But just a tiny bit?"

"If anyone else asks," she says, holding the sponge against your chest, the liquid squeezing out from it and running down your six-pack, "it's just to cool yourself down from heat stroke."

"But if it's between us..." you suggest.

"You could do yourself better by investing in better deodorant," she says, half-joking and half-not. Any confidence you gain from her stares evaporate into the air, much like your BO. "Though who knows! Maybe some mares like big, smelly and sweaty dragons."

"Yeah, I wish," you say, unable to hide the hurt in your undertone. "I barely have a chance with a mare when I'm dressed up and smelling nice, much less when my legs are covered in mud like they are now."

She's silent, scrubbing your chest, but her face no longer speaks of the same delight. She moves to your shoulders, her crotch scooting ever-so dangerously close to your own, but before you can worry, her lips are to your ear. "Is that the way ya truly feel about yourself, Spike?"

Her words are but a whisper, but they reach your core the same. You try for a wisecrack retort to ease the situation, but none of your usual trick slips out your lips, only the truth fumbling out. "Kinda."

She gasps. Her hindquarters rub against your legs, those glorious gluts unfelt due to your pant leg. You want to cry when her legs part much as they can, and you feel her crotch ever so slightly touch you pitch tent. You gulp, hoping she mistakes it for something else.

"You're not as bad as you say you are, you know that, right, Spike?" Applejack asks, throwing her hooves over your neck and resting her at its base. You feel the sponge rubbing loving circles on your back. "That I'm only laughing because I think you're joking, but...but if it were the other way around..."

"...and if it were the other way around?"

Applejack huffs, before looking up at you. "Then I'd be mighty upset, ya hear?!" She shifts in place, her thighs rubbing against your rod as it becomes painfully erect. You begin to sweat, in fear of both the conversation and the other thing you aren't talking about. "You're a nice guy who's kind to a fault. A lot of mares would kill to make you theirs."

You sigh, dipping your head in shame. "I'm...I'm sorry, Applejack, but I don't think I've met a mare that's ever given me a sign before."

"Not one?"

"Not one."

"I see," she says, pulling back from your neck, but keeping her hips tight around your dick. "So, that mare you spend half the time spying at her cutie mark: you don't think she'll give you the time of day?"

Your face lights up, your eyes widen, and for a moment, you felt like crying. "I, uh..." You search internally for any argument that could save you from the accusations. "I wasn't checking you out, honest!"

She titters, raising her hoof. You clench your eyes, flinching as you expect a slap, only to feel the fur under her hoof boop the tip of your snout. When you reopen your eyes, hers are just hovering before yours. "Who said anything about me being the lucky mare?"

"...buh..." you say. "...uh..." you hum like an idiot. "...you're hot?" If there's any doubt of you not being an idiot, it's cleared up in a single sentence.

"Straight from the dragon's tongue," she says, her muzzle coming dangerous close to your own, "and about dang time too. You kept stealing glances at my flank, so I'd shake 'em now and then to keep ya coming back, but ya never said anything." She laughs, her breaths is on your lips. "You had me worried that I was just going to be another freebie, but then I hear this outta ya."

You gulp. You feel like you've screwed up, so you open your mouth to try and make things right. "Look, Applejack, I'm sorry," you say, trying to inject the utmost sincerity into your voice. "I know someone like me shouldn't be checking you out, especially at work." You sigh, deciding to come out with the truth. "But I'll be lair if I said that wasn't part of the reason why I took the job."

Applejack looks at you, her golden locks falling along her back, as her face is unreadable to your teary eyes. "I just everything about you: from your voice and the ways you laugh, or how sexy you look when you get dirty, and how you wear your hat slightly tilted just drives me nuts!"

A sniffle. You focus on her face, only to see a tear forming in the corner of her shimmering green eyes. "Oh, Celestia! Applejack, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you—"

Before your apology can leave your lips, hers come tumbling towards yours. You've never kissed anyone before, so the plush feeling comes as a great surprise to you, one you quickly consent to as you kiss back. You imagine yourself to be horrible kisser but you're far too gone to care.

Applejack's lips are all you expect them to be and better. They're plush as they rub against your own, sending pleasant shiverers down your back as you kiss them back with all your worth: feeling just how firm they are as you begin to push back. Every time she exhales through her nose, the warmth flushes across your cheeks, and you wonder if the same effect is true for her.

Finally, and quite unwillingly, you both pull away. Your mind is floating with questions, the first ones being how could something like kissing Applejack happen to a guy like you, and the second ones debating if some terrible illness had come over her.

"Applejack," you say her name as if its the finest thing bits could buy. There's so much you want to ask her: why did she kiss you? Did she find you attractive, or had you done something to somehow win her love over? Is she in heat and just needs to blow off steam with the first male she could squeeze? An influx more come to your mind, but you settle for the one question that asks them all. "Why?"

"Have you ever considered," Applejack says in a sultry tone, "that dorks, much like those hard working stallions, are equally attractive to me, if not more?" She moans, licking her lips. "That when a mare flicks you with her tail, that it's a sign of flirting?" To prove her point, she raises her tail to flick it across your chest—your scales feeling the sensation of her every strand.

"That when I'm flicking my tail aside for you to get a better look," she flicks her tail lower, your foreskin feeling like it's being brushed by her ponytail. You clamp your lips shut to stop from moaning out. "It means I'm trying to get it through that thick skull of yours that I like you!" Your eyes wander down her back, where her round orbs sit on either one of your laps. "And I don't mind your wandering eyes."

You reach your claws over her shoulder, ever so shy from claiming that booty, but your arms tremble once you reach proximity, and you quickly give up claiming that which you desire.

"Celestia forbid, I've been dry humping your dick this whole time and you still haven't said a word."

She knows? She knows! The root of your embarrassment has been known by her this entire time, and you can't help explode—but not in the way you want to. "You knew about...about it this whole time!"

Applejack giggles, thrusting her crotch against your cock, over and over, feeling it jolt every time she collides. "Oh honey, I didn't just know." She stops to look up at you, then offers her signature wink. "I've been enjoying myself with that information the whole time."

Damn it. Her southern drawl just makes the words that much hotter, and you feel your jeans stretching to their maximum capability. Just as she's about resume her dry humping, you place a claw on her shoulder, starling her and stopping the act, as she looks up at you with a face full of confusion.

"I'm sorry, Applejack, but I can't do this," you say, the words cutting your throat as they come up. "But you're too good for me, and you seriously won't put up with me after hearing half the shit that goes through my head."

Applejack stares at you for a long while, her face scrunch up, but not in a way you describe as mad. Her gaze travels from your face down to your chest, taking in all the muscles you've accrued from work, before nodding her head in satisfaction. "You look good enough for me, so can we hurry up and do the deed?"

"You don't know how badly I want you, Aj," you say, regret clinging to your voice, no matter how hard you try to shake it off. "But everything inside me is just screaming I don't deserve you."

She huffs. For a moment, you wonder if she's finally going to take the hint and give up on the possibility of you two ever being a thing. Before you could give that possibility any thought, her voice cuts through you.

"Put your claws up," she says, hopping off your lap. "Up and at 'em." She walks over to the wooden table in the barn, picking up the lasso she had left there with a hoof. She turns back to you."I wanna see 'em up now!" She whips the rope at the ground, snapping the scattered hay and sending it into the air.

You raise your claws out of reflex.

"Thatta boy." She strides towards you, every step delicate and slow, never keeping you out of her sight. She whips the rope again, softer this time, and you see it make contact with her right asscheek—it jiggles as she moans at the burning touch. Then, she stops before you, a predatory smile on her lips. "Aren't you just excited for what I got in store for ya?"

Before you can reply, the rope whips again, air rushing past your face as it wraps around your wrist—then the metal pole installed on the barn's wall. You move your arms, only to find them utterly bound above your head. You look down, only to be presented with Applejack's ass.

Her cheeks are there for the taking, just waiting to be touch, to be knead and to be fucked. She's looking over her shoulder at you, and you know for a fact she's reading her thoughts, because the first she does is take a hoof and bring it to her rear.

"I'm not so quick to admit it, but if it's you, then I'm glad to admit that these two are my pride and joy." she rubs a hoof along her cheeks, giving them with massage and moaning into the air at her own touch. She begins to rub faster, harder, beginning to tap and even slap them—every tantalizing jiggle of her backside torture on the drake with his claw's blind.

"W-Why are you doing this, Applejack!?"

"The answer is simply, Sugarcube." She backs up onto the hay, her hindquarters still facing you as she backs it into your shaft. "I want you to grab 'em for yourself."

"Kinda hard to do that with my claws bounded," you say, feeling the squish of her tush rubbing against the underside of your penis. You bite your tongue, silently cursing the fabric separating you from paradise. "Plus that other thing."

"Oh trust me," she says, shaking her flanks before your face. "I ain't worried. One round with me, and you'll be the one taking the lead."

She then sits down on your erection, hard. The flesh of her ass envelops your cock on both sides, the sensation divine, intensifying as she squeezes her cheeks together with the utmost strength, only to let go a second later. She starts again, squeezing your cock with her ass, stopping again seconds later.

"You're...you're torturing me," you hiss.

She looks over at you from her shoulder, winking an eye and sticking out her tongue. "Then do something about it, sugarcube." She squeezes your cock again, ass flesh wrapping around your rod and pumping it up, just to cease when your fun is about to begin.

At that moment, you couldn't take it any longer. You thrust your hips upward in tandem to the demands of your pleasure, feeling you cock glide up the orange crack as every inch of your cock is being pressed upon by the flesh.

"What was that?" Applejack says, shifting so that her ass grind harder against your dick. "It almost felt like someone was finally using an other head for once." She giggles, raising her flank high in the air, and slamming it back down against your crotch, catching you cock in the crevice of her cheeks once again. "A girl with a big butt like me can't be sure until she gets, uh, a bit more lovin' if ya get what I mean."

There isn't a miscommunication between the two of you, for, a moment afterward, you buck your hips widely into the air, fucking her asscheeks for all that they are worth. You couldn't move your claws, to grab her ass and squeeze to your fingers content—but that is the thrill of it all! That she could easily take her fucking ass away from your cock and you'd be shit out of luck, so time to make the most out the present, and fuck her ass for all it is worth.

You feel something building at the base of your shaft but you try to ignore it. You've gotten into a nice rhythm, feeling the plushness rub up and down your shaft with every thrust you made. Then shit gets cracked to eleven when Applejack caught on, paralleling your movements so you got the most out of every thrust.

"My my! Someone's suddenly feisty!" Applejack says with a flush to her cheeks as she looks forward. You look at her ass to see something dribbling before it. You smile: you aren't the only getting off. "The power of dragon's cock caught between my cheeks, what would he ever do if I took it away?"

You felt it. By Celestia, it isn't that you felt it, but you no longer felt her ass enveloping your cock. You want to cry and to moan, but your base desire overloads your emotions as you wrap your legs around her hind leg and pull her back—thrusting forward into the cheek themselves.

"Whoa Nelly, aren't you a quick one!" Her cheeks grew progressively red everything you dick impales itself on her butt cheek, pushing inward onto the fat and feeling just how firm it is with your tip, before being rebound and going for it again. "Now this is certainly something I wasn't expecting, and oh Celestia, do I love it."

You love it as well, but you need more, more of her, and right now, you're in the mood to acquire your desire. Clenching your claws, your push them forward with all your strength as you feel the pressure in your loins becoming explosive. Then, you hear the rusty bolts shoot off the wall, as the metal pipe goes flying into the barn.

You're free. You're free to take what's been presented to you all this time.

Your first instinct is to cup her ass—the thing you've been admiring for the better-half of a year. As your fingers sink to the flesh, you can't help but to kned it, to rub it up and down, to make circles and just try and grab as much of it as you can—but the ass flesh just keeps slipping through your fingers.

"Someone's, uh, certainly enjoying themselves," she turns around, taking her flanks with her, and you want to growl if it isn't for the face you saw next. Applejack is biting her lower lips, cheeks pure red, as she's straining to make eye contact with you. "Is it okay if I, uh, enjoy some of this too?"

You growl, but come to silence your desires, or, at the very least, quells them for now. You bring your claws around her back, pulling her against your chest, something she's happy to rest her head on. Soon, she brings her claws around your back as well, but you yelp as she goes for your rear.

"Tight. Exactly how it looks," Applejack looks up to you bearing a goofy grin. She giggles. "What, you didn't think wouldn't get a lil butt rubbing as revenge?"

"Not at all." You smirk, bringing your claws down to her ass cheeks, and giving them a firm squeeze. "Applejack."

She swells, and in a moment, so do you. You each play out your wildest fantasies on the other's butts, not minding the protrusions and enjoying every sensation. Your hunger is building, you look down at her, just to see her grin grow by the moment.

You lunge forward, taking her lips against your own once again. You're too horny to worry about being sloppy as both open your mouths, tongues fighting one another like it's a wrestling match, one where there are no losers. Your claws begin to climb her body, feeling every inch of her coat and the fur against your palm, rubbing her barrel as passionately as you could, wanting nothing more than to advance to the next level.

A rich scent has taken the air, one that causes you to pull back to properly sniff out. It's musky but sweet, and its source is coming from right in front of you.

Applejack pants, chuckling as she does so, looking to you as she knew what you are searching for. "What is it Spikey?" she says. "Do ya smell something?"

You lower yourself, kissing Applejack on the lips one last time, before kissing her cheek. Then you kiss down her neck, collecting every juice you can suck off her coat, starting to pepper her chest and midsection with your little kisses.

You hear her giggle, your kisses apparently ticklish, though you smile because you knew it wouldn’t be that way for long. You reach the crux between her legs, staring at the thing you swear you'd never see in all your life.

Applejack's tight orange little pussy.

You can hear the laughter above beginning to cease, and you know you don't have much time to stare. Thinking could come later, for now, regardless of your inexperience, you have to give this mare the best time of her life for giving you a chance.

You kiss her lower lips, finding them slick with her juices. You give them an experimental lick, causing Applejack to jolt backward and filling your taste-buds with a mixture of sweet and saltiness. You enjoy the taste, going back for a second, a third, a fourth...

Applejack moans loudly, clutching your head with her powerful thighs, and keeping your lips lock with her pussy—not that you mind. Deciding to be a bit more daring, you let your tongue slither past her lips, into her small little hall, and covering as much of the inner walls as you could.

Applejack screams, pressing her hoof into the back of your head, making your snout part her lips as your tongue goes deeper. Above your eyes, you see a little nub hanging—the clitoris, and from all that you've read, it's supposed to drive the girl mad.

You take her clit in your mouth, suckling as much as you could with your lips, as your tongue lap and prod every inch of her vaginal walls. Applejack screams her loudest, bucking her crotch into your face, but you only enjoy the sensation, even when her inner-walls clench on your tongue, and the strange liquid gushes past your lips in mouthfuls.

For whatever reason, you think it to be disrespectful to spit it out, so you drink everything that flows into your mouth. It's weird, you think, how normally such a prospect seems too disgusting to you, but now, you can't help but lap at her lips to get the rest of it out.

"Hooo-hee!" Applejack giggles, a goofy look on her face. "Sugarcube, if I knew your tongue was capable of that, I would've skipped with the foreplay."

You rise back up, wiping your lips as you look down at her. She looks so content and at peace, almost ready to sleep, but much like when she dragged you off the farm, you still feel as though your work is incomplete.

"Don't worry Sug," she says, placing her hooves on your chest and pushing you against the walls. Then, she places her hooves on either side of your pants. "I didn't forget about you. But I'm going to need your help."

You comply, your claws trembling slightly as you do so, as you've never quite shown your cock to anyone else. The sensation, however, of having the fabric slowly slide over your foreskin assuages your nervousness, as she gets your pants down to your thighs.

Applejack stop there on purpose. The tip of your cock is pin between your belly and the top of your pants, the pressure the two had on your dong feelings almost better than her asscheeks—a sacrilege remark, to be sure.

"Ya wanna see a magic trick, Spike?" She doesn't wait for your response as her head hovers over your dick. She tilts her head at it, only the top of it visible to her eyes. She smiles, the leaning forward, plants a big, sloppy kiss on its rim.

You scream in pleasure and your pants are finally pulled off, leaving you standing joy expose to the world—which just happens to be only Applejack. She stares at it for a few seconds, tilting her head in thought, and you become slightly afraid.

Clearing your throat, you speak. "Is it um...by any chance...do you think..."

Applejack looks up at you, her eyes blank.

"My, uh, thing," you struggle with the words, much to your chagrin. "By any chance, is it...small?"

Applejack picks up on your insecurity, her lips stretching into a rather broad smile, and you are unsure if you should be glad or not. She sits between your legs, your throbbing erection standing tall before her, yet all she does and breathe air on it.

"So you're clueless about this, huh?" she says, head underneath your smaller head, her every breath causes your claws to clench onto the hay. She is teasing you, and it is working. "So whatever I say, it becomes fact to you: big or small, it's all my call?"

She places a hoof underneath her chin, pretending to be in thought. Then, glee spreads across the face.

"Nah," Applejack said, bringing her lips to your dick. "I'll let you decide." And just like that, she takes your cock into her mouth, sucking on it slightly—the sensation driving you mad. You clutch the hay tighter, fearful what you may do without an outlet for these sensations. Speaking of which, they've become much worse once she began swirling her tongue around your dong, extracting the flavor from every inch of it like you had done for her before.

She takes more of you into her mouth, getting closer and closer to reaching your base, when you feel the tip of your dick prob something. It takes a second for you to dawn, but when it does, you're both happy and a bit mortified: your cock is pressing against the back of her throat.

"Guess I'm decent after all," you say under your breath, ready to tell Applejack that is more than enough. Of course, she's always one step ahead of you, and slams her muzzle against your balls, deep-throating your shaft. She rises back up only to slam back down, again and again, until it's become too much to bear.

"A-Applejack!" you cry out, your claw reaching forward to the back of her head, feeling her mane press into his palm as you bob her head up and down your rod at your own leisure. At first, her face takes a look of surprise, but upon feeling your claw, giggle whatever she's able to, and lets her head go limp, so you have full control.

You masturbate vigorously with her mouth—it feels better than every-time you've masturbated, combined.

You feel your load read to blow. You let go of her head, quick to warn her what is to come, but she merely picks up at a pace far quicker than you had been doing. Every inch of your cock his covered with her saliva and her plush lips keep enveloping your rod, over and over, until you just can't hold it back anymore.

You blow your load, moaning in bliss as you do so, never feeling her licks cease even as you bottom-out inside her mouth. You look down a the mare only to see her chugging back every load, her lips never leaving your cock until you are left dry.

Feelings of pride well in your chest.

After a few moments, you feel your climax come to a close, but you still bask in its afterglow. You pant, trying to catch your breath, as you hear someone doing the same next to you. Looking down, Applejack wipes her lips with a hoof, before letting herself fall to your side, which you're quick to wrap an arm around her.

"That was one hella ride, wasn't it, Sugarcube?"

You nod, only vaguely aware of the sounds she's making.

"Do you regret it at all?"

You shake your head, a goofy smile on your lips. "Never.

"Well, ain't that splendid." She slaps her knee, snuggling close to the drake's side. She didn't hesitate to prod at his pecs. "Say, sugarcube, you ready for the main event?"

"A hundred percent," you say, unaware of exactly what you've just gotten yourself in to.

"Perfect! I'm just about ready myself as well." Before you know it, she swings herself back onto your lab, but she looks down at your cock, which is only at half mast. "Hmm. It looks like I gotta bring you up to speed myself."

Before you could object, you feel her wetness collides with the underside of your cocking rubbing up and down along it. Your dick twitches and flares, slowly rising, becoming ready for round two.

"Let see if I can speed up the process," she says, pinning your shaft between your stomach and hers, letting her ass clap against your lap. "Mmmhmm. How's that feeling, Sugarcube?"

"Perfect," you moan.

"If ya think that is perfect, then try this on for size!" Applejack grinds her pussy into the underside of your dick, pushing it against your stomach, and then there, capturing in her slit, the sliding up and down your cock.

A few moans later, your cock is at full size.

"Now that's perfect," Applejack says, placing her forehooves on your shoulders. "You ready for this, Sugarcube?"

"Without a doubt."

And like that, Applejack raises herself a bit over your cock, and then, ever so slowly, starts to fall on it with her pussy. She's slow, letting only your tip prod her orange lips, pulling back before you could do this any deeper. She repeats this, over and over, and its driving you nuts.

"Applejack!?" you cry in your frustration. "When are you gonna let me fuck—"

And those are the magic words. She impales herself with his cock, her full weight falling on it as she felt her inner wall being slowly split apart. She gaps at the sound, the cutest thing to ever leave her lips, as she rises back up, and fall again on your stick.

You keep still like a good boy, letting her go at her own pace. But soon, it became evident on your panting faces that this isn't enough to last for much longer. You look at her, your tongue rolling out, and she gets the gesture, nodding her head in approval.

You pick her up in your claws, lifting her lightly while still keeping your dick inside, putting her back on her hooves and facing the other way. You sit on your knees, grabbing both her asscheeks and kneading them for all they are worth, before thrusting your dick in as far her cunt will take.

She screams, and you moan, doing it again and again, her screams becoming squalls with every thrust. You're getting into a rhythm, one she starts to memorize, as she begins backing her ass into you when it's time to thrust forward.

In your head, you declare today the best day you've had at work.

"S-Spike!" Applejack screams, snapping you away from your ministrations on her behind. "I-I'm cuttin' it close."

"S-So am I!" you reply, grabbing her forehooves in your claws. "So let's go for the game-winning score!"

You lift her up again and turn her around, supporting the back of her body with both claws as you slide her up and down your shaft as quickly as possible. Your loins are burning, aching to finish, but you're determined to finish at the same time.

The pressure is intense; your pleasure reaches its apex.

"A-Applejack!"

"S-Spike!"

You both cum at the same time, heaving as torrents of white escape between your legs, and you can't help shudder with pleasure as a tinge runs throughout your body. Once you both empty out, you promptly fell on your back, Applejack dropping onto your chest, curling up then and there.

"Applejack?"

"Y-Yeah, Sugarcube?"

"Is it too early to say I might love you?"

She thinks about it. "Maybe. But I'm flattered anyway."

You smile, both from the heat between your legs and the warmth lying on your chest.

"What are you waiting for?" she asks.

"What do you mean?"

"Hurry up and hug me you silly dragon."

You shake your head, and do just that, wrapping both your arms around the orange earth pony, and holding her close to your chest. You feel ready to drift to sleep, but for whatever reason, something keeps you awake for just a little longer.

"Hey, Aj?"

"Yeah, Spike?"

"If I eat you out more, can I get vacation days?"

"That's something for me to think about."

"...hey, Applejack?"

"Yes?"

"If I work hard, can you just blow me instead?"

"Oh fuck off."

You hear a knock at a barn, and before either of you can reply, the door blasts open. Big Mac steps through, gazing at you two, and the position you are in. Then something clicks in your mind, and you say the thought out loud.

"Oh yeah, that's right! you say, looking to the brother and the sister. "I still haven't found out if I'm gay!"