It’s an ordinary average day in Equestria. You are Anonymous, and you have absolutely no idea what you’re going to do today. You’ve got the day off of work, so you decide, you know what? Let’s go check out the mortuary! That’s a place that usually nobody ever checks out. And that’s where all of the honeys check out. So, you head out of your house, down the road, forget where the mortuary is, remember it’s by the graveyard, and then find yourself walking inside the Ponyville Mortuary.
Inside there seems to be a mare sitting at a desk in the front office. At least, you hope she’s a mare, unlike the last one. She has phat death-bearing hips, a rather grim looking cutie mark of a body bag with crossed scalpels, a long brown mane tied into a ponytail, and a tidy brown tail. She looks up to you with a wide smile and says:
“Welcome! Are you checking in or checking out?”
“Well, I just happen to be checking you out, baby. My name is Anon, and you must be my ticket to the afterlife, because you’re an angel.”
The mare behind the counter blushes a hard fuchsia, and she looks away, hiding a necklace behind her work clothes.
“O-Oh! That’s… really sweet of you,” she giggles. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, I was wondering if you’d like a taste of my embalming fluid, if you know what I mean.”
She once again blushes, and stutters over her words.
“W-well, I-I. There’s only one problem… M-my husband is in the back. We just finished sewing him up this morning. W-we were never really close, b-but I don’t know if that’s too weird for you.”
“Your husband is in the back? Well, I’ll just cum in the front.”
You give a huge wink for added emphasis.
“O-oh! Well, okay. Follow me!”
And so the mare leads you throw two large operational doors to a freezing room with several empty tables and a zipped body bag.
She sits on an operation table, nervously twitching her hooves.
“S-so… uhm.”
“Well, I’ve got this bone to bury,” you say, lowering your voice to a sultry tone. “How would you like it?”
She bites her bottom lip and presents her flank to you. She pulls a scrunchy from her brown mane, letting it rustle down and moves aside her brown tail to reveal a pink, glistening pussy.
“Whatever you do… Pull my mane when you’re about to cum~”
You line up with her tight, sweet twat and drop your pants to the floor. Right as you’re about to slam into her bacon curtains, you whisper into her ear.
“It’s free real estate.”
An involuntary moan escapes from her lips as you slap yourself repeatedly into her wanting form. You place your hands on either side of this mysterious, widowed mare and pull her in deeper for a bit of the ol’ scrambled eggs between the legs. You can feel her notorious V.A.G tightening around your biggie smalls with every slam you give.
“Oh, yes, Anon~ Give it to me harder!” she pleads.
You push yourself harder and harder, preparing to give her a bit of the chode a la mode.
“Talk to dirty to me, Anon!” she begs.
“Yeah! I bet your gay because you love all that dick inside you, huh! How you like me pumping your flesh mitten with my tube steak!”
“I.. uh. Yeah?” she says, unsure. “Actually. No. Don’t say things. Please don’t say things.”
However, you decide to say more things.
“Oh yeah! How do you like me plundering your poon army? It feels so good to perform exploratory surgery in your gaping axe wound. God I love plunging into your pool of moisture.”
“Please, just. Uhm. Please just finish.”
As you prepare for your final bout of the clunge plunge into her bikini biscuit, your rip your arm back.
“You talk too much. You’re ruining the mood. So rude.”
You punch forward and slam your fist into the back of her head. She cries loudly in pain and her head slams onto the metal surface before you give her the puppy pudding. However, as you unleash daddy’s cummies inside of her, you notice she’s gone completely limp and falls to the floor once you let go of her.
Oh, fuck. You killed her. Why’d you’d hit her head up on the table.
Because angels deserve to die.
Uh. Shit. It’s at that moment you hear the unzipping of the body bag behind you. Player two has joined the game.
The zombified horse corpse of the husband rises up and growls at you.
“Dude…” he growls. “That was my wife.”
“SWEET JESUS. GIVE ME A REZ-ERECTION!”
At that moment, your penis grew three sizes and extended to full mast to prepare for battle. The zombie husband growled and nodded in affirmation. He clearly appreciated an opponent of great penis. And with great penis, cums great responsibility. His cock grew out to an impressive nine inches, squirming and writing as if it were filled with maggots as opposed to expanded erectile tissue.
“You’ve underestimated my power!” you scream, doing a back flip through the air and landing behind the zombie. You slap your cock against his oogie-boogie meat, and it splits open at the seams like an overcooked hot dog. You reach into the pocket of your pants, which are dangling around your ankles, pulling out a dank joint. You light it up, and smile at the dead undead zombie husband.
“Well, it looks like I... had the high ground.”
Then you penguin walk home, your pants still around your ankles. Once you’ve arrived in Ponyville park, you decide to impress the kids by doing a penis pole vault into a sick rail grind. The tip of your penis ignites like a match, and it hurts like the white hot power of a thousand suns. In other words, you’ve basically became Charmander. It was a good day.
The End.
