One of the benefits of running a farm, was the opportunities for stress relief. Nopony told you that, but it was true. That was a good thing too, because one of the downsides to running a farm was that it gave you plenty to be stressed about.
Sometimes, when Applejack needed to blow off some steam, she would gather up an armload of apples, and go out to the edge of the orchard, and she would spend a while just chucking those apples as far as she could. Bonus points if she could hit something. And after years of doing it, she was pretty good at that. She would have made a good pitcher if baseball was a thing in Equestria.
She got pretty good at throwing those apples. Which was a problem, because then it got boring. There was still something in it, some base level of satisfaction in the stretching and yanking of the muscles in her arm as she heaved them away. And there was still satisfaction in the wet, heavy thud of the apple against some distant tree trunk or fence post. But it was diminished.
Well one day she was out there chucking apples, and a whole lot of them too. The Crusaders had gone even farther than their usual shenanigans, so she had a lot to work out. Well her arm tired out real quick, and it was a hot day, so she plopped herself down in the shade a tree for a break. She needed it. She was breathing hard, and covered in sweat; she could feel it all over her body. Especially under her boobs was soaked. Not for the first time she grumbled about the size of her bust. Having breasts bigger than her head was not very convenient for farm work. She wondered how she got anything done sometimes, with those things swinging all over the place. Let somepony who wants them have them, she thought. Like Rarity. Celestia knew she would appreciate a pair of knockers like hers. If nothing else they would give her a cushion to rest on while she was being bent over by the latest customer to walk into her boutique. Applejack was a practical pony, you see.
But she couldn't do anything about that, so the just lay there, bulging like always. Her arm was starting to feel ready again, when she noticed another part of herself feeling ready. Her cock was stirring in her pants. She was out there to relax, so she figured a quick fap wouldn't hurt. She came to this part of the orchard to whack off a lot too. Family secret: marecum is an excellent fertilizer. Her dick noticed her intentions as soon as she pulled down her pants. It quickly swelled, up and up, straight through her cleavage, until it booped her on the nose, leaving a thin trail of precum joining its flat head to her face.
Giant boobs were good for one thing after all. When you had as much cock as she did, hands just weren't going to cut it. She squeezed them around her shaft and started pumping. And in that summer heat, it felt as refreshing as the coldest glass of water she'd ever drunk. The way skin slid easily against skin, slick with sweat. The slight catch of her medial ring on the bottom of her breasts with each stroke. Even the hard bark of the tree against her back. It wasn't sexy as such, but it was satisfying. That tree had grown strong through her seed, and she was about to help make it stronger.
But on that particular day, there was still something nagging her. The apple chucking just wasn't doing anything. She was throwing them as hard and as far as she could, but she hadn't beat her record in months. There was a post from an old fence, a ways away from her. It hadn't been touched in years, but it still somehow had a smear of red paint on the silvery, sun bleached wood. She could never hit it. Everytime, she fell short.
But as she sat there, stroking herself, looking down at her penis thrusting toward her face, she got an idea. She couldn't throw apple far enough to reach that post. She had reached the limit of what her arms could do, but maybe there was another way to launch the apples.
She picked up an apple.
She stood up, slow. So much of her blood was in her cock that she had to take care not to pass out. She gripped her cock near the head. She squeezed it gently. When she squeezed at the right angle she could see her urethra opening up a little. Biting her lip, she carefully put the apple against her head, and pushed it down.
She nearly came then and there. She knew plenty about shoving stuff in other holes, but this one she had never considered. It was like nothing she had ever felt. The solid feeling inside her dick felt so wrong, but at the same time, so right. She pushed it down as far as she could, until she was up to her elbow in her own penis. She was disappointed for a brief moment when she pulled her arm out and it was not covered in pussy juices like she was somehow expecting. She laughed at herself, feeling silly. She thought about putting another apple down there, but decided not to. Just one would do for this test.
Her cock had shot up under she shirt, so she had to unbutton it to aim. Once it was released, gravity, and the force of her boobs being freed from their fabric prison sent it toppling away from her. She caught her thick rod as it fell.
She turned to face her post, her nemesis. It had mocked her for too long. She knew hatefucking felt pretty good, Rarity had taught her that, and now she was going to find out if the same applied to fapping.
She aimed herself at the post, supporting her shaft with both hands. She thrust her hips; her balls were swinging like pendulums. She tought of her favorite thing in the world: Rarity's ass. She did not approve of how slutty her friend was, but that didn't mean she couldn't also be grateful for it. She moaned as she remembered the feeling of that ass, of boldly going where so many had gone before.
She closed her eyes. All her troubles melted, gathering into one great mass in her crotch. She panted as the pressure built. The orgasm came, she roared loudly as she exploded. The apple flew out of her with a "thunk," driven by the flood of semen behind it. It did not have the arc that even the hardest throw has, it flew straight like a bullet. Applejack could barely see through the haze of pleasure, but, as satisfying as the orgasm, she could make out the apple smashing against the post, an explosion of flesh so spectacular it made what happened to JFK look like a party popper.
Her knees buckled, and she sank once more against the tree. She looked at the grass in front of her, wet where the long ropes of cum had landed. That was good—she yawned—the grass needed some touching up in a couple of places. The air was warm and thick. She could deal with Applebloom later, a quick nap wouldn't hurt.
