Big Mac's Unusual Day On The Farm

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Written by: Oneimare

Preread and edited by: Jay Tarrant

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Act I

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It was quite an ordinary day for Big Macintosh.

After Applejack had helped him with the daily chores, she left for Poniville—it was her turn to sell apples. That left the taciturn stallion with only one thing to do. The one thing that was always left to do—applebucking.

Thus Big Mac was in the orchards, filling basket after basket with the powerful strikes of his hooves against the trunks of apple trees. Where his sister relied on the sheer power of steel muscles under her tanned coat, the large stallion took advantage of his weight to deliver bucks no less effectively. However, applebucking was the kind of activity with a rather simple thought process behind it. The countless years of practice rendered his motions into mere reflexes.

And since all the issues on the farm had been resolved for the day, Big Mac was left with nothing important to think about. Given the freedom, the stallion’s mind decided to recall one particular memory and savour it.

A snow-white mare sashaying through the market, her curved alabaster flanks encrusted with the diamond sigils swaying like a metronome. Soft yet defined muscles with just the right amount of fat rolling under the smooth immaculate coat. The perfect coils of a purple mane and tail bouncing in rhythm with the supple flesh of her round rump.

How lucky I was to be there yesterday, Big Macintosh thought, And to think of it, I didn’t even want to go selling apples in the first place, heh.

Rarity was the ‘most wanted’ mare in Ponyville in the same way the title of the ‘most wanted’ stallion belonged to Big Mac. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it sounded like the perfect reason for them to be together… for a few sweet hours. Though Big Mac knew he would never get a taste of that marshmallow mare, the often disappointing reality wasn’t going to stop him from dreaming.

Very soon, the fruits of unbridled imagination woke up Big Mac Junior.

The special guest of the local lonely mares’ wet dreams made it out from its sheath, yet to become a rockhard tool of love. The stallion’s arousal was only lazily dangling under his belly, just a bit more than a quarter of its full size. It wasn’t quite intervening in the applebucking, but rather reminding him of its existence and approving of its owner’s salacious thoughts.

The modest owner of the biggest stallionhood in Ponyville wasn’t bothered by a fifth leg trying to grow on his body. After all, Applebloom was in school, his other sister would not return from town until after sunset, and he could almost hear Granny Smith snoring in the house, even though it was on the other side of the farm. While bucking trees in the furthest orchard, Big Mac could allow himself to not only indulge in sultry fantasies, but to take a short break to spend some quality time with himself under the shadow of some lucky apple tree.

“Oh, Big Mac, take me right here!” Rarity moaned lasciviously, clutching a post of the wooden fence. The unicorn’s voluptuous tail, already soaked at the base in her own arousal, moved to the side, revealing the glistening puffy lips. The mare turned her head to the stallion to look at him with her half-lidded eyes full of lust and desire. She bit her lip and winked, letting a large drop of thick juices dew the ground, reminding him of the situation’s urgency.

In one fluid motion Big Macintosh all but tore the yoke from his neck and threw it aside as if it weighed nothing. In wide yet measured steps he approached Rarity and reared up, landing his hooves on the fence in such a way the mare would be tightly pressed to it.

Rarity moaned in anticipation under his wide chest. She squirmed, snuggling her hot body into his belly. The mare’s coat so smooth and soft rubbed against Big Mac’s hardened pelt back and forth in the throes of a desperate desire.

The already wet tip of his twitching stallionhood firmly kissed Rarity’s overflowing with thirst cleft. The mare gasped, and though Big Macintosh couldn’t see it, he knew she had bit her lip anew, holding her breath in burning anticipation.

The huge stallion slowly pushed against the soft lips, feeling their futile resistance as the heavy crown of Big Mac Junior moved them apart like the gates of a castle fallen under an overwhelming siege led by an inexorable king. He felt Rarity’s entrance finally giving up and letting him in the narrow confines of the alabaster mare, slowly, reluctantly, but inevitably.

Big Mac slightly moved back, producing a whinny from the mare underneath him, then tensed his hips to give Rarity his whole length in one mighty thrust, and—

“Applejack?” called a sweet melodious voice. “Anypony?”

Big Macintosh’s endowment now was at its full glory, bumping against his stomach almost in rhythm with his racing heart. The wide-eyed stallion frantically whipped his head from side to side, his ears swivelling like a weathervane in a gale, but the timid voice was a whisper on the wind, coming from nowhere and every direction at once.

“Oh, it’s you Big Mac,” the invisible mare uttered right behind his back.

Luckily, it was the least revealing vantage point to behold his hoof-long twitching ‘predicament’.

Trying to keep his body in place as much as possible, even if it was a bit rude, he turned to witness a butter-yellow pegasus with a flowing pink mane sheepishly peeking at him from the cover of an apple tree.

Of all the mares in Ponyville…

The thundering staccato of his heart ramped up and was joined by a wildfire crawling under his twitching and burning skin—the only saving grace was Big Mac’s natural colouration.

“Eeyup,” he squeezed out of himself.

Making a wrong move was equal to death.

There was a real possibility the sight of his engorgedstallionhood would give Fluttershy a heart attack; it wasn’t that impressive—the unexpected visitor was just too sensitive. Then Applejack would cut it off and use it to beat him to his sorry end.

So, pressing his tail between his legs in a way Big Mac hoped wasn’t too conspicuous, he slowly trotted to a tree a few paces away, throwing other his shoulder in a level voice:

“Hi there, Fluttershy. Do ya need something?”

Turning into red lighting, Big Mac pivoted on his heels, praying his raging hardness went unnoticed, and pretended he was about to buck an apple tree.

The bet was on her being ridiculously shy. She would see him in the middle of work and fail to muster enough confidence to distract the imposing stallion.

“Um… I… ah… I wasn’t feeling well and…” Fluttershy turned crimson red. “...apples... animals… and…”

Big Macintosh impatiently waited for the timid mare to speak her mind—his not-so-little friend still stood at attention like an overzealous soldier.

“I needed food for my animals,” Fluttershy began again, “and I wasn’t feeling so well…” That was where her words lost their firmness and turned into a familiar barely coherent mumble. “And… I thought… hoped… “

The stallion shifted uneasily as his barely concealed package twitched—it had a mind of its own, whispering suggestive ideas to the bigger head. Big Mac eyes began to wander, concerningly often finding purchase at the not so mediocre pegasus’ figure.

Fluttershy had a sort of enchanting beauty even in moments like this—when she was insufferable. But, of course, she was absolutely oblivious to her blessing.

Even now, as she shuffled her hooves in the throes of debilitating shyness, her hips gently rocked—not the narrow rump of a flier who rarely knew the solid ground, but the soft plump backside of a pony leading a regular life as an earth pony.

“That... maybe… not too much... trouble...” Fluttershy kept whimpering, her voice growing quieter and quieter until it dropped into almost an inaudible whisper, “to ask... you... for… a few...”

With great effort Big Mac managed to tear his eyes from the anxiously shifting mare only to become aware of the almost deafening silence—she was finally done. The diminished flow of blood to his head turned the task of knitting together Fluttershy’s scantly coherent speech into a challenging feat to achieve.

“Yup,” he ultimately stated, laconic as ever, ”just take those.”

Barely raising his hoof, Big Mac awkwardly pointed at the fresh apples residing in the straw basket right between them. He couldn’t help but cringe inwardly at how aloof he acted towards his sister’s best friend; though it was definitely less traumatizing than the alternative.

“Ohmygoodnessthankyouverymuch.”

In an instant, Fluttershy became a yellow smear as she dashed to the offered fruit. Yet, in her reckless rush, she failed to notice another basket insidiously hiding amidst the verdant blades of tall grass and stumbled over it, prostrating herself on the ground with an undignified yelp, spilling apples everywhere.

Before Big Macintosh could give his actions a conscious thought, he stepped forward to help the careless mare in trouble—a reflex ingrained as deeply as applebucking.

However, Fluttershy quickly recovered by herself and blushing profusely, squeaked, “I’m so sorry! I’ll gather them at once! I’m sorry!”

Chanting excuses the mare began to gather apples strewn across the ground.

Either her abashment from the lack of basic grace had blinded her, or Fluttershy was too naively oblivious to begin with, but it seemed she completely missed Big Mac’s hard-on stubbornly swinging between his legs.

The stallion suppressed a deep sigh—both relieved and weary—and picked the nearest apple to toss it back in the basket. Then reached for another.

The innocent task of picking up the strewn around apples went on for some time accompanied by Fluttershy’s mumbled excuses. While the apologetic mare had little trouble with it, Big Mac struggled not to be distracted by the pegasus fluttering around, unaware of his shameless glances.

Big Macintosh eyed one of the two last apples lying around. And as he took a wide step to reach for it, Fluttershy dashed to pick an apple lying behind it without looking, her mouth half-opened in anticipation for a stem.

Big Mac’s froze in place with his eyes widening in a mix of horror and surprise as he felt the most tender part of him ending somewhere soft, wet and warm.

For Fluttershy it was a day like any other.

Why does it have to be this way? she silently lamented. Why am I so scatterbrained?

Tightly locked in her cottage by the unbreakable bars of her social anxiety, she was being wrecked by existential injustice. The cruel world had decided to gift her with the smoothest and smallest brain upon birth, a useless organ that would house the mind inside only for half of time at best.

In the other words, Fluttershy had forgotten to buy some apples the last time she visited Ponyville. It might or might not have had something to do with a colossal and daunting certain red stallion, but she was afraid to even think about him again. However, the prospect of meeting Big Macintosh in his awe-inspiring flesh was only a fraction of the issue—venturing deep into the teeming with life town was always a massively stress-inducing and nearly insurmountable task.

Fluttershy was willing to go hungry for days just to avoid visiting the heart of Ponyville. But letting her animals share her fate for even a few hours? It wasn’t going to happen while she was alive.

It left Fluttershy with only one option—to go to Sweet Apple Acres, find Applejack and convince her to sell some apples.

That’s how it would go if Fluttershy had at least a hoof-ful of bits at her retreat. But of course, on a day like this, the entirety of her finances had to wait for her securely and patiently in the Equestrian bank standing proudly on the edge of Ponyville’s market square.

The inevitability of utterly awkward conversations loomed over Fluttershy like a guillotine. Yet, eventually, the sense of duty overwhelmed the crippling social phobia and Fluttershy all but sneaked out of her cottage to make a beeline to the Apple family’s.

Fortunately for her, she met nopony.

Unfortunately for her, as soon as the nervous pegasus entered the vast farm she realized there were no saddlebags offering her a familiar soothing touch. And Fluttershy didn’t have it in her to make the same trip twice—the day just kept getting worse and worse.

The orchards seemed to be deserted at first. No sounds of begrudgingly rustling treetops and defeated thumps of apples landing into baskets could be heard.

Fluttershy crept amongst the apple trees in the seemingly vain hope of stumbling into Applejack napping under one of them. Though she was much more likely to find her muzzle full of a polychromatic tail hanging from a branch thick just enough to support Rainbow’s athletic frame.

The reason why Fluttershy chose to resemble a humble shadow in her traversal of a veritable apple copse was due to the chance of meeting a pony who wasn’t one of her friends.

Of course, Big Macintosh wasn’t her enemy!

He was a nice stallion, a bit too nice in some certain aspects. But he was large, no, enormous… in others.

A revolt took place inside her head—a part of her mind insisted on imagining Big Mac, the so beautifully laconic and muscular stallion with a big heart and… everything else. The fire of insurrection lit up her cheeks, threatening to seize control over the rest of her body—the hotness spread to the farthest reaches, even the sacred lands forbidden to her sinful hooves.

In her fight with indecent thoughts, Fluttershy almost missed how she reached the most remote orchard. It was an utmost dire sentence—her journey was for nothing and Ponyville waited for her after all.

“Applejack?” she called in forlorn despair, her voice strained. “Anypony?”

Almost apologetic in its gentleness, the late summer breeze carried no answer, offering only the crisp aroma of ripe apples.

Beginning to surrender to the tide of panic, the pegasus peeked from behind the closest apple tree as if suddenly the world had decided to have mercy on her for once and a miracle would happen.

A massive stallion disrupted the monotony of the lush greenery with the crimson of his shining coat.

On one hoof he was what she’d asked for—absolution from the trip to the town; on the other, she had to pass the trial of facing the subject of her most recent impure fantasies.

With a gulp, Fluttershy spoke faintly, half-hoping to be unheard, “Oh, it’s you Big Mac.”

To her growing disturbance, the stallion hesitated with an answer, until he finally dropped his dry trademark ‘eeyup’. The conversation began and her body responded accordingly—her eyes found purchase amidst the grass and her limbs trembled. Her shy gaze was met with baskets of apples glancing at her covertly from the sea of verdant—her ultimate goal. However, her mind came to a completely different conclusion:

Oh my, am I distracting Big Mac from his work? I’m such a horrible pony…

Before Fluttershy could plunge herself into the dark depths of crushing guilt, Big Macintosh formally greeted her, seemingly barely paying attention to his visitor and got straight to the chase, “Do ya need something?”

For a fleeting moment, the shy pegasus managed to muster enough confidence in her to respond immediately and took a deciding step towards putting behind her misfortunes of the day. She tore her eyes from the ground to meet those of Big Mac and even opened her mouth.

Yet her stare never met Big Macintosh’s calm green gaze, even though he was now facing her, and her jaw remained hanging with no sound coming from it.

Is that his..?

In Fluttershy’s mind a flock of tiny yellow pegasi tried to frantically conceal it, to tame a freshly baked memory, still searing hot in her vision like an afterimage of the Sun. But the picture stubbornly refused, an unfathomable expansion of swollen dark flesh wreaking havoc inside pegasus’ head until there was nothing left but itself and the last tiny shred of Fluttershy’s will.

It’s not real, the miniature copy squeaked, hopeless, it can’t be that huge.

That tiny Fluttershy was stabbed in the back by the rebel Fluttershy who tried to reach for the gaping mouth and make it say, Could you pretty please rut me, if you don’t mind?

Control was wrestled away at the last moment, but the result was sorry at best:

“Um… I… ah… I wasn’t feeling well and...apples... animals… and…”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I needed food for my animals and I wasn’t feeling so well…” And then her wicked eyes caught the sight of something slightly bobbing up and down under Big Mac’s belly. “And… I thought… hoped…

“That you could fill me up with your huge…” the Fluttershy-rioter tried to finish for her.

“That... maybe… not too much... trouble...” The battle inside her raged on and Fluttershy was losing it; although she wasn’t sure which one. Clinging to her final remains of sense, she barely managed to squeeze out of herself, “To ask... you... for… a few...”

She dared to glance at Big Mac only to see his gaze boring into her, his strong jaw clenched in a stern expression. That awakened the true queen of Fluttershy’s mindscape—Fear, and it fairly noted how she just came by asking the hardworking stallion for the fruits of his labour with only a promise to offer as payment.

It was so stupid of me. He now thinks I disrespect him, his work, his family...

A rebellious internal voice cut over the susurrus chorus of anxiety:

...We have something else to give!

Big Mac, eloquent as ever, saved her.

“Yup. Just take those,” he said, pointing in the vague direction of the apple baskets.

Before anything else could come out of her mouth Fluttershy blurted, “Ohmygoodnessthankyoueversomuch,” and rushed to the suggested fruit.

Her hoof caught by an envious basket, Fluttershy crashed on the ground in a tangle of limbs, accompanied by the spoils of Big Mac’s toil raining around her.

What have I done!?

The apples still rolled through the emerald grass maze when she began to mutter excuse after excuse and try to desperately unmake the mess she had created all the while trying to keep Big Macintosh and his endowment out of her sight and mind.

In a short, though tense, time, the formerly overturned basket was almost full with but a few fruits left to pick up. Aiming for the furthest apple, so she could make a hasty escape after returning it, Fluttershy readily parted her lips and closed her eyes in imminent relief of catastrophe averted.

She expected hard and bitter wood to poke her tongue, but instead, she felt the silky touch of flesh, hungry for passion, scorch it.

Suddenly Fluttershy found her mouth full of Big Macintosh to the brim.

From the clear sky the afternoon serenely spilt gold upon the seemingly boundless expanse of the apple orchard; the chaste Sun completely unaware of what was kept clandestine by the opulent treetops. Or, perhaps, it was just indifferent; even maybe understanding and respectful. The ripe august shine trickled down through the outstretched branches and they murmured in content, tickled by zephyr carrying the insidious promise of dressing them into pure sunlight in mere weeks.

It was a fine, almost usual day on the Apple family’s farm.

Almost.

As soon as Big Mac comprehended the depth of what he had gotten himself into, he tried to slowly pull himself out of Fluttershy only to find it impossibly hard to do just by moving away.

The perplexed stallion couldn’t deny that he was experiencing an undoubtedly pleasant sensation. Big Mac Junior didn’t even try to deny—it had expanded itself like an atlas spreading his shoulders, readily filling the mare’s mouth, hooking the fleshy crown just behind Fluttershy’s teeth.

In her turn, Fluttershy tried to carefully move back and came to pretty much the same conclusion—she wasn’t going away without somepony drawing her jaws apart with their hooves first.

Fear, confusion and a volatile mix of emotions yet to crystalize into something concrete petrified the peculiar pair, turning their burning bodies into a bizarre statue.

Another long awkward moment passed and she felt a drop of a thick musky fluid drip onto her tongue from the tip of Big Mac’s length. Slightly salty, it faintly tasted of apples. Fluttershy’s eyes widened; and where her mind still was blank, unable to process the reality, her nethers and body caught on fire—they always knew better.

Oh… I… Big Mac… The thoughts finally began to form in Fluttershy’s mind. Amidst the inferno of passion the last survivors of her mind lamented over the body of Fear, honouring its last will. He must be so mad at me and decided to punish me. I’m such a bad, naughty mare… Then they raised a white flag. He won’t let me go until I… oh my… oh goodness...

The voices inside Big Macintosh’s held a concilium, the chorus chanting, It’s just an accident. A mighty big misunderstanding, yes. We’ll never talk about it again and Applejack ain’t gonna chop off that is the dearest to me. I simply need to start talking.

But even though the integrity of his stallionhood hinged on doing a very simple thing, no words could come to Big Mac’s mind—he incidentally was the worst at it. Still, he opened his mouth in the hope that something would come out of it by itself.

That plan was promptly derailed as his world exploded in the wonderful sensation of a silky tongue gliding over the stringed up sensitive skin of his stallionhood tip. Everything in his skull was replaced by the heavenly bliss of being caressed in a place he could only dream of.

Other than the obvious, Fluttershy’s head could boast the same emptiness, though the reason for that was a mystery even to her. Aside from her mouth full of Big Mac’s girth to the point she had trouble breathing and thus not thinking clearly, she couldn’t even decide if she was scared or glad to be punished like the naughty mare she was.

As Fluttershy slowly and carefully lapped at the head of Big Mac’s shaft, she felt the previously tense stallion relax by her side a little, with a slight shudder and an almost inaudible exhale. For a moment she thought something was wrong, but then another drop of Big Mac’s slick arousal lubed her mouth.

At first, she could only caress the tip, since the titanic appendage left almost no room for anything else. Yet after a dozen chaotic circles she traced on the stiff surface it relaxed a little, surrendering to the tender assault. With another drop of salty juice signifying the stallion’s approval, the engorged crown shrank a tiny bit. Big Mac’s endowment was still easily filling her mouth, but now the thick package could slide back and forth between her jaws. Fluttershy could even pull it out if she wanted.

It won’t be very kind of me if I just stop, she decided.

Meanwhile, unbeknown to Fluttershy, right above her Big Macintosh was still having a mental fight with himself. And strangely, he was losing it.

What has gotten into that mare? It’s all wrong, I should stop her right now…

Or should I?

If Applejack finds out about it all, I’m dead for sure...

But what if she doesn’t?

...

Why am I thinking about my sister right now?

Finally, Big Macintosh came to the conclusion that exploring the pleasure of his most private parts being taken care of by Fluttershy was totally worth the risk of being murdered in cold blood by his own sibling later. The stallion knew that at least half of Ponyville’s lonely mares would gladly take Fluttershy’s place, but something was telling him it would hardly be the same.

With that taken care of, the giant stallion decided to rectify the awkward position in which fate interlocked them together. While it wasn’t detrimental to his enjoyment yet, soon enough maintaining balance would become a task requiring more focus than they had.

Slowly, so as to not accidentally bump his hooves into Fluttershy (or Celestia forbid distract her!), Big Mac stepped with one hoof over her back bent low to the ground and positioned himself above the mare. She wasn’t the smallest pegasus, larger than average on the contrary, but he was Big Macintosh.

Now, standing on half-bent knees, Fluttershy snuggly fit in the space under Big Mac’s chest and stomach. Strands of her mane tickled his belly and her wings gently brushed against the stallion’s ribs.

Fluttershy’s heart clenched in fear at first—she didn't want him to go away. Because it would mean she was doing a horrible job, obviously, and her thoughts went like that, If I do it well, he won’t tell Applejack, and she won’t get angry and won’t stop selling apples to me, and my animals won’t be suffering from hunger…

That worry gave her enough motivation to take a tiny tentative step forward to catch up with the moving stallion.

However, intoxicated by the smell of their arousal hanging in the air and slightly deprived of oxygen, she direly overestimated her capabilities.

Fluttershy quietly spluttered and almost choked as Big Mac Jr. surged down her throat threatening to take all the space available and more. Hastily moving back so the thick head would only occupy her mouth again, she took a deep breath and quickly dashed away a tear with her hoof.

Now that she had invaluable experience and lungs full of air, the determined pegasus put her hoof down and a bit forward to lunge ahead and impale herself with Big Mac’s length once more.

Her nethers were on fire—she was far past the moment when she could feel moisture making her most private parts slick. It had already been dripping down her inner thighs to the ground below for a while. Yet Fluttershy didn’t dare reach for the petals of her most precious flower in fear it would break her concentration and ability to gorge on Big Mac’s girth. So she only rubbed her legs together occasionally, making her supple rump shake slightly and spice the air with the sweet smell of her arousal.

It lasted for some time: the wild dance of her tongue coiling around the tip of Big Mac’s hardness; the hot moist panting breath tickling his nethers; the sound of gulping followed by that of air filling almost empty lungs; and then immediately immense delight as the stallion’s length slowly and sensually slid down Fluttershy’s throat and back.

However, after a few such motions, the pleasure wore down—just the tiniest bit—so it wasn't that overwhelming. That allowed Bic Mac to finally guest consciousness in his vacant skull and his eyes, no longer rolled back, fell on the pink tail swishing under his clenched jaws.

With a deep inhale he bent his head pushing Fluttershy’s damp tail aside with his chin and instantly felt a prick of guilt. I'm just standing here like a bedside table, the stallion chided himself. Yet Big Mac wasn’t going to wallow in regret—there was no time to waste.

He took a small step forward, producing another bout of sputtering from below his belly—an almost inaudible moan followed it. Waiting a moment so the surprised mare would be able to compose herself, Big Mac smirked and pressed his front legs to the pegasus’ sides in one sharp motion, firmly locking her rump in one place.

That produced another muffled sound of sultry approval and Fluttershy angled her backside skywards. As a last touch, she moved her soaked tail up herself, inviting the stallion to feast on her.

Big Mac began with a deliberate lick from the very top, spreading the mare’s outer lips with his wide tongue. The sudden intrusion attempt gave her pause and the mare shuddered underneath him with a soft whinny.

His tongue proceeded to slide down Fluttershy in its merciless onslaught, gathering the overflowing wetness, until he reached the final destination. The stallion strained the mass of muscle protruding from his lips into a hardened confluence of hot and slippery flesh, using it to gently flick the glistening pearl embedded in the end of the mare’s puffy folds.

It was enough to make Fluttershy violently shake and emit a high pitched, no longer muffled moan of pure pleasure, her wings frantically fluttering like those of a trapped butterfly. A moment later Big Mac felt the caress of chilly breeze on his stallionhood and a pair of hooves clutched on his back leg.

With the unscheduled break returning clarity to his mind, Big Macintosh licked his lips, degustating Fluttershy’s juices—she tasted like buckwheat honey, a summer morning on a secluded meadow and slightly of floral scented soap.

Nodding to himself in deep appreciation, he dug back for more, though with less intensity, so as the mare wouldn’t lose her mind completely. Fluttershy returned the favour readily, lapping on Big Macintosh’s shaft without taking it in her mouth. To compensate, she gently massaged the stallion’s plumes with the soft underside of her hoof.

Her tongue slid from the tip to the very base of Big Mac’s length and back, coating it in warm saliva to be soon replaced by the chillness of the summer’s breath as it carried away the intoxicating aromas. She moaned and squirmed under the meticulous work done by the stallion, caressing every fold of hers and occasionally brushing against the button of the most bliss, turning her whole world into pure undiluted pleasure.

As the mare studied the surface of Big Mac’s huge pulsing endowment with her mouth, polishing the veiny uneven surface, a daring thought coalesced in her mind.

Fluttershy glanced over the entirety of Big Macintosh’s giftedness and came to a sudden realisation—it could actually reach her stomach! Oh my goodness! So she measured the size again with her eyes—and with her tongue to be sure. The leathery ring roughly marking the middle of it seemed to be a much more realistic goal to reach without choking to death.

The insatiable mare positioned her muzzle in front of Big Mac’s throbbing and moist appendage, then loudly gasped, her eyes going wide from the strain of trying to fill her lungs beyond their capacity. Without losing a moment she wrapped her lips around the stallion’s blazing girth and let it rush down her throat, further and further.

Big Mac’s tongue slowed and faltered in the exploration of Fluttershy’s flooded depths, replaced by hot ragged breaths. The legs holding her sides in a place dug into her plump rump, clutching it tightly, making its owner whinny. Finally, after what felt like an eternity for the adventurous pegasus, her soft lips bumped into the hard ring.

But there was a problem—Fluttershy’s face was crimson red not only from arousal and impure thoughts. Maybe on another day, the world champion of staying quiet would be able to hold her breath for much longer, but now with her body burning and shaking from delight, mind reeling from pleasure, it was beyond her ability.

Her vision darkening at the edges, she hurriedly began to slide Big Mac’s seemingly infinite length out of her mouth as a battle-thirsty warrior would unsheathe a greatsword from a scabbard. It exited her jaws with a resounding ‘pop’, leaving a string of saliva and whatnot glistening between them.

The pegasus coughed and gulped for the air, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Ya alright there?” a concerned voice called.

Fluttershy meekly nodded in answer and immediately realized her mistake. She couldn’t talk either—her shyness combined with her throat covered in a thick layer of the stallion’s juices could barely produce a squeak. However, she kept her wits together. Hungrily taking the impatiently bobbing head of Big Mac Junior in her mouth the pegasus started to massage it ferociously.

Air whistled in Big Mac’s teeth as he took a sharp breath.

At such a pace it wouldn’t take very long for Fluttershy to bring him to the edge beyond which lay a messy delight.

With renewed energy, she began to move her head back and forth rapidly, moaning incessantly in between the gags, oblivious to the spit and tears streaming down her jaws, her eyes rolling back. Foam gathered on her lips from the sudden intensity—she pushed herself and Big Mac to their limits. With abandon she penetrated herself with the fervently throbbing stallionhood over and over, wishing it was ravaging her from the opposite end.

Only through the greatest concentration of will in his life Big Macintosh was able to redouble his efforts, accompanied by grunts each time his bordering on bursting hardness disappeared in the eager and sloppy confines of Fluttershy's throat. At first, his tongue threshed under Fluttershy’s tail without a goal, futilely trying to extinguish the pulsing blaze of her desperate desire, but feeling how it only stirred her up, he changed tactics. Pressing his lips to connect with those of Fluttershy in an exceedingly wet kiss, the stallion slid his tongue as deep as he could whilst wrapping his mouth around the engorged and madly winking bud to suckle on it.

It became a race where everypony was trying to win and lose at the same time.

Fluttershy clenched around Big Mac’s tongue in a crushing spasm.

At the same time, the head of his stallionhood flared twice its size, steadfastly locking itself inside the mare’s mouth, and began to powerfully pump thick seed into Fluttershy’s stomach with every jerk.

Big Mac retracted from the depths of Fluttershy, followed by the fountain of her climax. She sent arcs of brilliant drops shimmering in the sunlight onto the viridian grass as her body shook and convulsed. The stallion drew a sharp breath—more sensitive than ever, unlike his partner, he still was a captive to the mercy of the other’s lips.

Fluttershy squeaked and trembled, her eyes rolling back in her skull even further as Big Macintosh filled her with his appleseed to the brim, pulse after pulse.

There was no hope she could swallow it all, but it didn’t stop her from trying. The pegasus’ cheeks puffed, but the salty excess began to leak from the corners of her mouth, trickling to her chin and then from it.

Finally, with one last spurt, the torrent of Big Mac’s hot juice ceased, his stallionhood readily softening after fulfilling its duty. It slid from the pegasus’ mouth, followed by the abundant remains and a loud gasp.

Fluttershy’s legs were still shaking with the echoes of her own delight, her soaked tail plastered to them. Her tongue lolled out of her panting mouth, almost white, still dripping with Big Mac’s generous gift.

The mare and the stallion simultaneously fell to the ground, each to a different side, for their limbs refused to obey them anymore.

Author's Note

If you notice any mistakes sneaked in through the editing, let me know.

Stay awesome.