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"Big Mac..."

Braeburn sat down on his bed, carefully eying his door as though someone might come in at any point, before he unbuttoned his tight wool pants. His soft cock popped out. With his right hand, he gave it a tentative rub, and felt himself starting to harden. As he grew hard, he noticed pre-cum leaking, and decided to taste some of it.

"God, I wish I had someone fuck me..." he thought.

That someone, in Braeburn's mind, was someone quite close to him, and at the same time a near stranger. More and more, he found himself thinking about his cousin Big Mac, about his strong, tall physique, about his rugged, handsome features. He would always imagine him with a well-defined six-pack, although Braeburn had never seen Mac shirtless. More and more these thoughts turned to fantasies, fantasies that would always go the same way: The big red stallion would begin by softly making him go on his hands and knees on top of his bed. He would pull down his pants, and give his ass cheeks a cheeky spank. "We need to lube ya up first," Mac would say, and began tonguing his asshole, coating his rim in moisture as Braeburn moaned at he slimy appendage stimulating him.

Eventually, after all the foreplay, Big Mac would tell him "It's time," and begin pushing his cock inside his anal passage. Braeburn balled up his fists, his asshole stretching to accommodate his cousin's cock. Big Mac was a decently endowed fellow, in Braeburn's mind at least, seven inches and fairly thick, and thus, the yellow stallion had to grind his teeth as he felt Mac pushing himself further and further in. When Mac's medial ring reached his anus, Braeburn could not help screaming loudly in pleasure.

Soon after, Braeburn would cum, his jizz shooting out in small ropes onto the bed. But Mac, still not done, would keep going. He would keep pushing himself and out, very gently as to not hurt his cousin, stretching him out, shaping his cousin's hole for himsel-

"Braeburn!" shouted a shrill voice downstairs. "What's with all that noise?"

"I-It's nothing, mother!"

Braeburn sighed. He had already climaxed, even if his fantasy wasn't done with yet. He had considered eating his cum after masturbating several times, but he never did. Not because he found it icky or anything along those lines, but, quite simply, because after reaching climax, he was no longer horny, and if he was no longer horny, there was no point to gobbling up his cum.

He has always felt ashamed of these fantasies. At first, he justified himself, thinking "Big Mac is a very handsome stallion, I'm sure mares have fantasies about him all the time... and some stallions too. I didn't grew up with him, so there's no reason as to why I wouldn't or shouldn't be attracted to him. That we're cousins is completely incidental."

But as time went on, Braeburn realized that these thoughts, too, were just rationalizations for fantasies he felt were illicit. The truth was, he liked the fact that Big Mac was his cousin. He did not fantasize about Big Mac despite the fact that he was his cousins, but rather, him being his cousin made him even more aroused. There was a certain illicit thrill in making love to someone who was so close to himself in blood.

Further, Braeburn realized, these fantasies were based on a rather shallow attraction. He barely knew his cousin, and these feelings for him were based almost entirely on his looks, rather than his personality or any sort of chemistry the two had together. For all he knew, they could be completely different, incompatible ponies. This did little to stop the thoughts of being sodomized by his cousin, however.

"Damn it, why can't all the stupid redneck jokes about cousin fuckin' be true?" he found himself thinking. "At least that way I'd get a chance..."

At the annual Apple Family Reunion, Big Mac found himself quiet as ever. He would reply to small questions he was asked, whether he was doing good, which he replied with a terse "Eeyup". Fortunately for him, nobody seemed to want to small talk with him, which was all for the better, in his opinion.

"Is Babs comin'?" Apple Bloom asked.
"I think so, she's just takin' a lil while to get here." Her sister replied.

Meanwhile, Braeburn and his family arrived. They greeted Applejack and Granny Smith, and Braeburn's parents left him to chit-chat with other couples. Immediately a strong feeling of ennui haunted him, much like it does at home.

"All this irrelevant small talk... We all get together every year, and for what? So we can talk about inconsequential nonsense for a few hours, pretending we care about or even know each other? What a bore," Braeburn thought. "Might as well hit the whiskey." The yellow-coated stallion looked at Applebloom and Babs Seed playing, two cousins that he had barely talked to in his entire life, if at all, and felt himself feeling himself jealous of the youngsters, of the days where there was more to do besides work, reading and masturbating. A soft sigh left his lips, he opened a bottle of whiskey, poured some, and took a sip.

Likewise, Big Mac had been drinking wine with company the whole day. It had started with just a few sips from a cup of that red goodness, while he was talking to some uncle, but throughout the evening he drank more and more, so much so that at night he was completely shitfaced.

Ponies talked, caught up on their gossip, fillies and colts played with each all afternoon, elder ponies played coin tossing games, laughing while sharing the same stories that they always told at the gatherings. As the night grew darker and darker, the Apple family gathered inside the well-lighted house, while some of the busier members went away early. But away from all this was Braeburn, who had gone to the barn to sit on a pile of hay.

"May I go," a hiccup, "outside for a minute? I need to get some fresh hair," Big Mac asked the rest of the family, his words sluggish and slurred.
"Course ya can, sonny," Granny Smith answered.

As Mac walked around, appreciating the cool Spring night breeze on his body, he started to hear noises. He looked around, trying to see where the noise was coming from. Careful listening led him to the barn. He opened the barn door and asked "Anyone here?"

No reply, but Mac could hear sobbing. He tentatively stepped inside, slowly and carefully, as though he was trying to not wake up someone, deeper and deeper into the barn. There he saw Braeburn sitting down on a stack of hay, crying, apparently having cried so much his eyes were read.

"Braeburn?"

"Hey Mac," he replied, and wiped his face with his hand, trying to remove the tears that had caked around his eyes. "How's it goin'?" The words were so slurred and jumbled that Mac could barely understand them.

Simply and directly, the alcohol having lowered his inhibitions, Big Mac asked "Why are you crying?"

"Oh, you know... life stuff." the crying stallion vaguely replied

"What's got you down about life?" Essentially the same question, but one Big Mac hoped would result in Braeburn giving him a more direct answer.

"It's... You know... All I do is work. Everyday, I go to my dead-end job, washing dishes at some second-rate restaurant. I work all day, and then when I get home, I work for my parents around the house. The only changes in this routine are when I need to go to a dentist, or a doctor. I have nothing to do.

"I live in a sort of old environment... I feel odd... about my sexuality... about my gender, Mac."

An awkward "Oh..." was the only thing that left the red stallion's lips.

Braeburn had stopped crying, and his face had dried up. With the lack of restraint that came with spending the entire day drinking alcohol, he asked the red stallion "Mac, will you fuck me?"

"Excuse me?" Mac replied, dumbfounded.

This short, almost instinctive reply left Braeburn scared. Had he really just asked that? Of his own cousin? What if he told the rest of his family? He might be kicked out of his house. He would become the black sheep of the family for sure, at the very least.

"Mac, please," he pleaded "I have no one back home. I have nothing to hope for. Can't you at least give me this? Oh Celestia, at least don't tell the family I asked you this."

"I..." Perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps it was the fact that he barely knew Braeburn and thus he did not feel the same aversion to the idea of sex with as he would with a family member he's closer to, or perhaps it was sheer pity, but Big Mac said "Alright, I'll do it. I'll, uh, have sex with ya..."

Braeburn could not believe he had heard those words, though he was infinitely grateful for them. His fearful expression quickly morphed into a small, somewhat melancholic smile. "Thank you, Mac."

"So, how do we, uh, begin?" Mac asked, with a blush so red that even with his crimson coat it was noticeable.

"Don't worry, cousin," Braeburn replied in a low sultry tone, "I'll take care of that."

With that, Braeburn gently pushed down Mac, so he was sitting on a stack of hay. He crouched down to waste level, and unbuttoned his cousin's pants. He took a whiff of his ballsack, and felt intoxicated. Sweaty after a whole day of running around under the Spring sun. Dutifully he started sucking on his left testicle, and then his right one, alternating between the two until they were both covered with a nice sheen of saliva.

Braeburn's oral ministrations soon had their intended effect, and Big Mac's cock came flopping out of his sheath, still soft, but Braeburn would soon see to that as well. He noticed the size of Mac's member, which, while not as big as his fantasy version of him, was still some six inches long.

"Lemme lube it up for ya," he said, and immediately tried to put Mac's whole penis, still soft, down his gullet. Immediately he began gagging and soon after he retreated, coughing.

"That was stupid. Sorry, I'm not very experienced with these kinds of things..." Braeburn apologized with an embarrassed smile and a blush.

"You don't have to try and impress me, Braeburn. Just do whatever you are comfortable with." Big Mac replied with an understanding smile.

"Right," he said. With that, he began giving the left side of his cock a long lick, as though painting it with a brush, keeping eye contact with Big Mac as he covered the side of his member with saliva. Braeburn appreciated the meaty texture and musky flavor of another stallion's dick on his tongue more than he was expecting, and what was merely a means to lubricate and get his partner at full mast was now becoming its own end. After finishing with the left side, Braeburn began giving Mac's right side the same treatment.

Big Mac's meat twitched endlessly. He was panting heavily, and it was getting increasingly harder to not get up and push his cock further down Braeburn's gullet. He wanted nothing more than having his cock fully engulfed by his cousin's wet, tight throat. Braeburn noticed his licking starting to take effect, and he attempted to deepthroat Big Mac again, this time much more successfully. He pushed down, swallowing four inches of the burly red stallion's cock. Having reached his limit, he quickly pulled back. Sitting on the barn's floor, Braeburn gasped. He couldn't believe he had done that! He could barely believe that this was happening at all.

"You're lubricated enough, cowboy. Just fuck me now," He said in a low, husky tone.

"In what, uh, position do you want to do it?" Mac asked, as though he was somewhat embarrassed asking the question.

"Look, I'll just stand up and support myself with this here hay stack, and you can rail me from behind. Sounds good?" He suggested.

"Sure."

Drunkenly and sloppily, they got into position. Braeburn stood up, and bent his back at a thirty-five degree angle. Mac stood behind him, spreading his cousin's ass cheeks to see his prize. Too drunk to fuck properly, Big Mac jabbed Braeburn's ass with his cock several times, trying to get his dick inside of his cousin's asshole. After a couple of minutes of fumbling around, he finally got it. Braeburn screamed at the sudden anal intrusion.

Big Mac groaned at the tightness of his cousins asshole. Braeburn bit his lower lip, every single thrust making his anal passage looser and more accepting of his cousin's six incher. He could feel the slimy pre deep inside his rectum already, but despite the copious amount of spit and pre, Big Mac's cock felt incredibly hot, burning up in the best way possible. Braeburn's walls stretched steadily, as though they were slowly getting used to Big Mac.

"Go harder!" screamed Braeburn, in the throes of desire.

Wordlessly, Big Mac began pounding his cousin, although in a restrained fashion. His cock slid in and out of Braeburn's asshole faster and faster, and his moaning and screaming got louder. After a minute of slowly escalating the speed at which he was fucking Braeburn, Big Mac was pumping in and out like a piston, spittle smoothing the way and dripping down into the barn floor.

Mac's cock began throbbing, and he could tell he wouldn't last much longer.

"Braeburn, I'm close..." he told him.

"So am I, fill me up!" Braeburn shouted back at him.

Mac's cockhead flared, and with a final push he buried himself deep into Braeburn's ass, his balls touching the yellow's stallions buttocks. He let loose a few spurts of cum, and his cock softened. Feeling all the white goo inside his asshole proved to be the final straw for Braeburn, and he ejaculated soon after, all over the hay stack he was standing over.

For a while they stood there, panting and reflecting, basking in the afterglow in silence.

"We should go back to the house, before anypony comes lookin' for us" Braeburn eventually broke the silence.

"Eeyup. Lets go," Mac replied.

They walked back to the house without talking to each other. It had gotten very dark in the meantime, and they wondered how much time they had spent fucking. Braeburn's ass hurt, and he walked with a strange funk. When they entered the door, the house was mostly empty, most ponies have gone home already. Among the ponies still inside the house, however, were Braeburn's parents. As soon as his mother saw him, she began shouting.

"Where have you been? We've been waiting for you to come back for a hour! We were worried about you!"

"Sorry mother, me and Mac started catching up. I guess we lost track of time..." he replied, looking down in shame.

His mother looked at him, and then at Mac. She noticed the stench of sweat, the disheveled clothes, and the awkward looks the two stallions were giving each other. "Right..." she said. "Well, we should be on our already." Turning away from Braeburn and to everyone still in the living room, she announced her leave.

"Goodbye, Mac. And, uh, thank you. I'm never gonna forget what you did for me there, cuz." The goodbye seemed a bit melancholic. Mac felt as though he was saying goodbye forever.

"Eeyup," was his reply.