Things That Go Brap In The Night

by Gassipons

Rating: mature
Tags: Rarity, Romance, Sex, Slice of Life, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Porn, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Fetish
Length: 5581

Rarity and Applejack find a strange and smelly bond during Twilight's slumber party

This story takes place during the season 1 episode 'Look Before You Sleep'.

contains: farts, facesitting, sweat, masturbation

Published 2019-12-23 22:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-12-23 22:10:01 UTC

Not So Silent Night

The milk of the near-midnight moon bristled through the boughs of Twilight's library home as the light misty rain built into a heavy onslaught; the roll of thunder was an overture to yet another surge of storm.

Settling in a little halo on the window, its light brought a cool blue hue over the two tossing, turning, mare-like shapes refusing to settle beneath the sheets.

While Twilight turned over into another hour of blissful sleep, her guests found sleep was not to be obtained; with a frustrated whinny the orange farmpony tugged at the bedspread.

"Applejack!"

Rarity's voice came with a terse whisper.

"What!?"

"You're hogging the covers again!"

"No, I ain't! My hooves were cold, so I'm warmin' them up."

"Well, so are mine!"

She clenched the sheet in her teeth and wrested it across to her side again.

After a few more minutes of their little bed sheet tug-of-war, the two ponies tried again to settle.

Stillness.

Aside from the sound of rain dotting the windowpane, and Twilight's somnolent snorts and sighs, there was nothing.

frrrrbpt

"Oh, you are joking"

"What is it now, Rarity?"

"Don't come the innocent with me, Applejack! You just broke wind!"

"Lemme guess - I didn't say excuse me loud enough? Well, how's this:"

She leaned across to give Rarity one big, exaggerated "excuse me" right into her face.

"As if that's the issue here! Why do you have to be so completely without regard for common decency?"

"Well, I'm sorry, little miss persnickety-pants, but my stomach don't do common decency! Good grief, you're moanin' more than a mare on her weddin' night!"

"...and that's another thing - must you insist on always using these discourteous, crude little sayings? You've already assaulted my ears with the sound of your-"

The mattress came alive with another tremulous report.

"You just did it again!"

"Sorry. I'm thinkin' those smores didn't settle too well. Musta been all that symmetry."

"Oh, that's revolting! I felt that one brush against my leg!"

"At least now your hooves are nice an' warm!" Applejack offered a crude little chuckle.

"That's hardly the point! Stop it!"

"Fine. Next time I gotta let one rip I'll stick it out the other end of the blanket."

"No! Is it impossible for you to just hold it in!? All I can say is I certainly hope you don't go around in public shooting off so nonchalantly as this!"

"Oh. I get it. You're one a' them mares ain't s'posed to fart kinda ponies, huh? Bet you think yer manure don't stink."

"It's manners, Applejack. Simple manners that should be expected from everypony."

"Well here's what I know: That pillow fight churned my belly up somethin' fierce, an' I ain't about to hold it in all for the sensibility of your prudish lil' unicorn nose."

In fact, the smell had not even occurred to Applejack thus far; the blanket seemed to be trapping each of her farts underneath it fairly well. She could certainly feel the warmth of each one sweltering around her lower body, but the only smell present was the flowery perfume Rarity was wearing and the cold smell of the rain-tinged night air flowing in from the window.

"Oh, I'm too tired to argue. Please just stop it so we can both try and get some sleep."

"Fine."

With an agitated harupmh both ponies turned away from each other. Settling down to sleep was the furthest thing from Applejack’s mind, though.

She was stuffed. With every attempt to roll over onto her midriff came a whining objection from her stomach. Whatever had brought on this bloat of gas... it was out for blood.

Anxious sweat glossed her brow. The pain seemed only to worsen; she exercised those well-hardened glutes of hers to try and send the pain back up inside, but would it really help?

What she wouldn’t give to blow a huge fart right into Rarity’s stupid unicorn face right now. Just to show her.

Her desperation mounted.

There was certainly no way she was getting any sleep with this pain rolling through her guts like prickled led.

There was only one way to rid herself of these incessant cramps.

Rarity wouldn’t like it, but then... why did what she liked matter so much all of a sudden?

Her torso merely a shape beneath the covers, Applejack rolled over to face Rarity, her rump caught against the taut edge of the cover held between the mattress and the frame.

She turned again, this time onto her back.

She sealed the sheets around her upper body with gentle movements of her hooves; at the very least this would contain the smell.

Rarity was unchanged; muttering something under her breath and digging her head into the pillow in an attempt to find comfort.

With her eyes still fixed on the loose purple ringlets of Rarity's mane, she furtively stretched her leg out towards her - ensuring it didn't touch her - and felt her buttocks outspread.

This was the perfect position.

With the gentlest strain, her tailhole gulped and expelled a silent whisper of gas.

It flowed in a hot, humid stream past her cheeks and along the surface of the mattress, bleaching the sheet in its heat and no doubt nestling its odor between the threads of cotton.

The farmpony chewed her lip gingerly. It continued to eek out for five seconds... six... seven... when it finally slithered away into nothing she had counted almost ten seconds. Not too shabby.

She rubbed a hoof through the puddle of sweat building in her crack; that fart had really burned her asshole numb.

The perfect idea popped into her head. She peered over at the uncomfortable shuffling of her bedmate, who was completely unaware that Applejack had just filled the space beneath the covers with more gas.

She wasn't going to be oblivious for much longer.

With a move so fast Rarity couldn't possibly have anticipated it, Applejack threw the blanket up over both of the mares, reaching over to pull Rarity close and ensure she couldn't escape.
They were both now trapped beneath the covers.

"Applejack! What in-"

Pretty quickly, the smell hit them both.

"Landsakes! That's got a kick to it!"

Rarity froze for a moment, feeling that sour sting of flatus assault her senses and stir like a rancid gas cocktail in the back of her throat.

She could feel Applejack's previous meal floating around like a ghost haunting her olfactory.

"What's wrong, Rarity? Sniff it up; there's plenty more where that came from!"

Just to prove that there was, Applejack piled on another short succession of sloppy wet farts into their little blanketed gas chamber, each one renewing the sulfuric pang of stench.

As she looked over, stifling juvenile giggles, where she expected to see contempt in the unicorn’s face, she found none.

Instead, lifting her features was what appeared to be bliss.
Pure heavenly bliss.
She drew in an audible sniff, frozen for a second as if mulling over the bouquet of an expensive wine, and then let that breath expel through her lips with a quivering sigh.

“Uh... Rarity? I know it’s strong, but I didn’t think it was strong enough to make a mare go crazy!”

“Hm? Crazy?” Her tone was soft; pleasant; as if she had just awoken from a beatific dream.

“Oh... I’m not crazy. Just tired of veiling the truth.”

“I’m lost...”

Her lids peeled to present her lapis-blue eyes, the color dulled like an old gemstone in the absence of light.

She allowed a solitary chuckle to escape her lips as she stared intently at her friend.

“Your stench, Applejack. It’s divine.”

“Okay. Yer gonna need to start speakin’ in a language I understand. You ain’t makin’ a lick of sense.”

“Divine, yes... I should say that’s an apt descriptor.”

She sampled another noseful, again letting it out with a shudder.

“It’s... almost like manure, is it not? Sour, cloying; don’t think I don’t detect some fruit in there. Spoiled, rancid, vinegar-tasting fruit, perhaps, but fruit nonetheless.”

After a silent moment of confusion, Applejack deduced this was not some kind of elaborate prank. No, the glint in Rarity's eye showed her this was genuine.

"Well well well, Rarity. Looks like yer kinkier 'n I gave you credit for."

"For your gas, yes. Oh, bathe me in it! That smell burns my loins with a thousand blazing suns! Excites me so that I cannot quite form the words to express my arousal!"

There was a patch of something hot and sticky brushing against Applejack's leg.

It seemed that, even if the appropriate words failed her, her way of expressing her arousal was grinding it up against her friend.

"Please. Give me more."

"I dunno. Wouldn't want to wake Twilight."

"Oh, pssh! Twilight's such a deep sleeper an Ursa Major could roar right into her ear and she'd barely stir."

"Heh. You're likenin' my farts to an Ursa Major?"

"Well, they do have a certain growl to them, do they not? Come on, darling, bless my nostrils and my ears with another boorish, boisterous burst of rancid gas!!"

"How'd you like to get a nice close sniff of it? If'n you can handle it, that is."

Applejack's mouth pinched with modest affection; though she did not share her fashionista friend's penchant for poots, she did share her generosity.

"Oh, Applejack!"

There was a pulse of mare juice dispensed between her lips. Her eyes were warm with undying affection.

"How should we do this? Do you have any positions in mind? I'm not sure if there exists a Fartra Sutra, but I'm sure Twilight has a book on the subject somewhere around."

"Let's see... you're all about them mud facemask doo-hickies, so how about an Apple facemask?"

"Apple facemask? Whatever do you mea-EA-EA-EA!"

The orange pony jarred forward to wrestle Rarity over onto her back. In a frenzy of grunts, prods, pokes and coat-on-coat friction, she had mounted her friend, rump pressed brazenly towards the unicorn's face.

The swells of her hefty buttocks conformed to Rarity's muzzle; a near-perfect fit. The bloat of her belly pressed into her chest.
Now she was close up, Rarity could really appreciate what Applejack was packing back there.
Each cheek was broad; easily five or even six inches across and perfectly rounded.
Her tail, dusty blonde, and possibly flea-ridden, sprouted out from her fleshy little dock that nestled on the brink of her asscrack.
Concealed between was the heat of her privates; her excitably trembling pussy and eagerly pulsing anus. A little darkened knot of tough, rigid muscle.
She tucked her legs in either side of the mare, hocks truncating into canons and fetlocks pressing into her for support.
The weight of the mare was fairly substantial - Applejack was built with thick, occasionally tensing muscles all along her flanks and hind legs. A product of so many years of apple bucking.

The immediate smell was one of sweat, though, Rarity thought to herself, a rather pleasant sweat. The comforting sweet of green summer apples and the prying strength of mildew.

She lifted herself and brought her weight back down with a grunt, as if to reinstate its presence. Her tail draped across the dressmaker's face and thrilled her already mounting enthusiasm.

"Sorry if I'm a little sweaty back there. Kinda skipped out on a shower today."

Rarity drew in one long sniff, feeling the smart of her friend's stagnant ass sweat permeate the deepest folds of her inner nose.

"Oh, it's perfect."

"Lemme jus' try and squeeze out a little somethin' for you."

Rarity nosed Applejack's rump eagerly, trails of sweat coasting down the farmpony's crack which she greedily painted her muzzle in. She enjoyed every little pocket of stench caught between the fleshy folds and creases. She was filled with the kind of dizzying butterfly excitement that reminded her of early Hearth’s Warming morning as a filly.
It was so filthy - so dirty, and yet, that only turned Rarity on further. It was strange to think that just hours ago she was so very afraid of even a speck of dirt muddying her coat, and yet here she was with the raunchiest farts she'd ever smelled settling in her nostrils and the clammy filth of Applejack's crack matting her fur in little bunches.

Applejack could see this arousal. If the unicorn's snorting and nuzzling wasn't telling enough, her little mound of pony puss was practically salivating. She felt that even the smallest toot would send her fashion-forward friend onto the brink of climax.

A bubble came from deep in her guts. A fresh little pocket of gas seeping into her colon, down into her rectum, and then...

frrrrbbbbbtt

A noisy sour sulfur bomb brushed over Rarity's face in a thick, soupy fog.

She huffed, having played this exact kind of scenario over in her head so many times.
In the moment, though, the aroma caught her off guard. The smell of gas fresh from its source was ten times as powerful. So powerful that the walls of her throat smoldered. Her cheeks snarled. It was like a rancid lunch hamper swarming with fruit flies.

"Pee-Yew! Can't blame that one on Winona!"

Applejack ground the sticky moisture of her ass into Rarity's face, feeling the unicorn's trembling moans growl through her lower body.

Despite the disturbance in her stomach, Rarity gave in to desperation; she panted, sucked, sniffed, whined, moaned and caught a flow of warm meaty ass fat in her open mouth. She had never felt this kind of sexual stimulation.

The sensation of hot horsey breaths blowing into Applejack's holes sent a pleasant tingle up her spine.

"Mmh. Your gas is so rancid, Applejack. I can barely hold back my lunch."

"Yup. Smells like I got some little stinkers in me tonight, don't it?"

"...and they're all mine. Oh, Celestia, it's all mine! I want to bathe in this glorious malodor forever! I want to wear your stench like a perfume and parade around town knowing everypony can smell it!"

Rarity’s eagerness invigorated the workhorse, who shifted herself backwards and forwards, grinding her farm-bred sweat into Rarity’s perfect coconut-white coat, concurrently pushing out a fart that alternated between a hot, airy hiss and a loud trumpeting rasp.

Rarity’s ear followed the fluctuating note, and her nose followed the shower of gas that dusted over her.

"I certainly hope this doesn't frizz up my mane; I feel as if I'm in a swamp." Rarity grinned and went for another fulfilling whiff.

Applejack's movements disturbed the cloud of odor and brought it up into her own face. It rested with a satisfying warmth in her throat.
She sniffed at it appreciatively, drawing out hints of her dinner the previous night - beans and cabbage. A meal far too simplistic for Rarity, though digested and blasted into her face in its gaseous form she seemed to be enjoying it just fine.

The unicorn moaned, gentle at first, but soon climbing to more of a libido-charged whine. Applejack felt the wet picking of Rarity's lips planting affectionate kisses across her flanks; letting her tongue waltz around the edges of her cutie marks and then back down into the swamp of the earth pony's crack to invigorate her asshole and marehood with more sloppy, desperate attention. She lapped hungrily on the remnants of smell still clinging to Applejack's ponut, drunk on the tingles of titillation every whiff of flatulence brought to her. She licked the salty beads of sweat from her lips, utterly unashamed in her filthy obsession.

With every sniff Rarity felt that Applejack's farts carried the odor of rugged farmlife; she could picture the mare with a head of wheat pursed between her lips in the shade of an apple tree, watching the wind roll through the cornfields brightened by the boiling summer sun. She envisaged her abusing an old rickety wooden stool with an unapologetic lean and a loud, abrasive brattle of flatulence.
An utterly uncouth display of growling guttural belching with her younger sister Apple Bloom out in the muddy cabbage patch after one too many frothing tankards of cider. One trying for loudest and wettest and hearing an immediate response from the other.
All those rudimentary rural meals compounded in her stomach. The smells this pony produced were undoubtedly those instilled by that rough-and-ready Sweet Apple Acres lifestyle.

"Please tell me you have more." Rarity's sultry voice curled into itself with a purr.

"You even need to ask?"

Applejack leaned her weight onto her right buttock and sent a puff of warm wind into Rarity's face that she promptly sniffed up.

"Oh, sublime! G-Gah!"

Applejack figured if she was already going this far to help her friend out, it could do no harm to give that white sopping marecunt some attention.
Her hoof dug into it, and Rarity caught a yelp in her tongue.

"A-Applejack, darling... not so rough."

"Whoops. Sorry."

Though tenderness was not quite her thing, Applejack rubbed her hoof against Rarity's wetting vulva with more care, now drawing long, throaty moans from her ass-straddled friend.

She decided to match those lengthy moans with a lengthy fart, reaching her available hoof back to spread her left flank.
The unicorn observed the winking and then widening of Applejack's shrivelled little sphincter.
She perked up with enthusiasm as a bubbling bout of gas dribbled against her face.

brrrrrrsccchhhhhhrrrrr.... ppt ... ptt ... prrp ..... pp! ... prt! .. ppt!

Just when it seemed like it was about to taper off, it grew back up, petering off slowly in a series of sequential staccato pops.

"Whew. Horseapples, that stinks!" Applejack's muzzle curled against the souring air.

"An appropriate choice of words." Rarity giggled.

The laughter settled down into silence.

Rarity's occasional moans were accompanied by the wet slicking of Applejack's hoof massaging the swelling marepussy. Leading her friend, slowly, carefully, towards a burning orgasm that she already knew would leave her brain dulled and sparkling. Few stallions had been able to claim such an accomplishment, and even fewer mares.

They enjoyed this silence. Rarity still swum laps in the smell persisting around her while Applejack settled into a soft shifting motion over her face.

Applejack's thoughts drifted back to the farm. She wondered how her family were bearing this storm. She hoped Apple Bloom wasn't too scared without the security of her older sister on call should she need a midnight cuddle after a particularly loud clap of thunder.
The last time she had been primed in this sort of position - rump held against a pony's face for the purpose of gassing them into oblivion - had been many years ago as a younger pony.
Sessions of roughhousing with her older brother that concluded with a quick hot fart right on his face. A good way to shut him up and secure victory.
Clearing a room after Granny Smith's apple 'n bean surprise. The calls of "Gross!" and "Seriously!?" from her relatives, and the warm chuckle of content as she watched them clutch at the doors and windows.
Applejack had always been silently prideful when it came to her farts. The ability to out-gas every colt in the schoolyard. The falling shock on their faces as she had trumped them in both sound and smell.
Even now, there were times where she caught the downwind of one of her own rump-warmers and found herself both stunned and impressed by how severe the odor could be. She had always figured it silly for mares to conceal such a natural occurrence. There was almost something romantic about it.
Intimate.

Rarity, too, was momentarily flamed by a quick flicker of nostalgia. She remembered that her mother always used to have the most soul-rendingly appalling farts. So foul that she could still clearly recall the smell of them all these years later.
Fortunately, she had not inherited her mother's eagerness to pass gas without worry of judgement, though she often wondered if she had partly inherited the smell.
There were often times, when the unicorn was safe in the solitude of her locked bedroom, that, while sat at her desk and feeding a sash of fabric through her sewing machine, she would sometimes lean over to one side and release the most graciously airy farts against the stool.
When the smell inevitably reached her, it always embarrassed her with its sheer pungency - so much so that it often urged her to crack open the window or use one of her stray clothes pegs to seal up her poor nostrils.

With these thoughts mixing around in her mind, aided by the dizzying haze of gas still lingering under her nostrils, she felt climax was near.

"I'm... hmmf... I think I'm going to..."

"Blow your sticky little Unicorn load?"

Rarity sniffed aggressively with an orchestra of sexual vocalisations at the heaving mass still resting all of its weight onto her face. Her pure appreciation for those acres of tangerine-orange flesh throbbed in the back of her throat. Applejack, despite earlier presumptions, got her. She understood just how to push every single one of her buttons. The mare's rough-edged perfunctory approach to manners sent a web of tickles dancing up and down her body. The very idea that a mare could spit and swear and fart and burp like a stallion and reject none of the ill-judgement sent her way... It should not have burned her with such bright arousal, and yet it did.

"Good timin'. I'm thinkin' I got one last little bit in there for you."

"Y-Yes! Oh, let me have it! Make sure it's the.. a-ahh... stinkiest, foulest, most putrescent f- aagh - fart yet! Make my nose sting!"

Applejack reshuffled her butt to get comfortable again.

"Way they've been tonight, I wouldn't be surprised if it made your nose fall off."

To start her off (or rather finish her off), Applejack loosed a sequence of multi-toned farts into her face; each one at least four seconds long and absolutely reeking to Cloudsdale and back.

Rarity caught every one - either in her nose or in her mouth. The ones that flowed into her mouth ballooned her cheeks to their limits and almost forced their way up through her nostrils. Her senses were encompassed entirely by Applejack's farts.

Applejack canted forwards, her tush lifting for a moment away from Rarity's face to lay a wet croak right on the bridge of her muzzle, and that was enough to finish her off.

brroaap

Every muscle in her body spasmed. Applejack was expecting a banshee-esque wail to accompany Rarity's orgasm, but instead she was so seized by the cresting sensation any noises were caught in the back of her tightening throat.

She merely whimpered, sending an arc of half-clear arousal squirting up at least a few feet from her white little water fountain.

A few moments later it winked and sent another two or three ropes catching the glint of the moonlight.

“There we go. Get it all out.” Applejack’s lowered tone was almost motherly.

She continued to probe at Rarity’s sex, rousing out a final wet squirt of fluid.
With this absolute loss of control came a short, quick prrt between Rarity’s legs.

“E-Excuse me.”

“Excuse you indeed. Looks like I’m not the only pony fartin’ up a storm tonight.

Almost on cue, a clap of thunder filled the sky outside.

"Speaking of storm... have you ever considered signing up as a weather pony yourself, Applejack? You can certainly make some sounds not dissimilar to that one."

With a quiet chuckle Applejack lunged her neck forwards to try a sample of Rarity’s gas, though the smell had fleeted.

There was stillness again, save the panting as Rarity caught up with herself.

The air was thick with the salt of mare cum and the festering perfume of farts.
Applejack took in whiffs contentedly. Something about her own brand was always very satisfying to her.

"That was.."

"Hush. No need to thank me, sugarcube. Tank's nice and empty, so it looks like we killed two birds with one stone, so to speak."

Rarity giggled. "I wouldn't be surprised if you could kill a bird with those revolting farts of yours. They're just perfect. You'll have to tell me next time you're plagued with particularly bad gas. I'll sniff it all up for you. Every. Last. Morsel."

Applejack teasingly blew one last bark of flatulence into Rarity's face and dismounted the unicorn, watching her take it in and savor it.

"The irony is..." Rarity begun, eyes softly fixing on her friend.

"...I think I have a little gas myself."

"Uh oh." A smirk pulled on Applejack's lips. "Guess we'll have to do somethin' about that."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to make you smell them. I can just... oh, go to the bathroom and dispose of them right down the toilet. Out of sight and out of mind."

The earth pony peered around the room.

"Don't bother yourself with that, I think I got myself an idea that's powerful fun."

"Do go on."

Applejack merely gestured her hoof across to Twilight's bed.

"You and I have been havin' all this gassy fun... we wouldn't want to leave our dear friend Twilight out, now, would we?"

Rarity loosed an uncontrollable ripple of laughter, fuelled by the kind of nervous excitement a foal might feel moments before enacting some kind of devious prank against a teacher.
"Oh, how naughty! You don't think we'll wake her?"

"I reckon not. If she slept through those booming bun shakers I was lettin' fly, I don't think she's wakin' for nothin'."

Rarity rolled out of the bed and the two mares approached Twilight's bed on either side.

The unicorn was resting near-motionless, chest slowly rising and falling as her head sunk into her pillow.

“Well, Applejack, if I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right. You could learn a thing or two.”

“I could, Huh?”

“Yes! While it is a lady’s duty to never, ever pass gas in the presence of other ponies, if a dire situation calls for it, there is a proper way to go about it.”

“Pssh! Usually I just rear up and let ‘er rip. Better out than in!”

“Well... while I adore your hoydenish approach to releasing your gases, humor me for just a moment.”

“Go ahead.”

“You first assume a suitable position; not an obvious lean to the side or a telling cock of ones leg. You want it to seem as if you’re not passing wind at all. In fact, I often blame it on the roasted sprout à l'ail."

Applejack watched Rarity's tail rise gracefully, her face barely betraying her gentility as a near-inaudible hiss of gas flowed through her carefully tightened pucker.

It continued, torrential and hot against Twilight's unknowing face. With a soft, low moan Rarity let it end.

"There."

The mares shared a smile of silent satisfaction.

"Well, it ain't winnin' awards for noisiness."

"Oh, that's all you earth ponies care about! Do you not know there are more factors besides volume that compose a perfect fart?"

Applejack joined Rarity on Twilight's side of the bed, sidling up beside her and finding her hoof rubbing over the taut skin of her underbelly.

"Goodness, Rarity! You're feelin' mighty bloated to me!"

She drew her hoof in soft circles over the curvature, probing gently and feeling an almost rock hard resistance.

"W-Well. I didn't want to say anything."

"How long you been holdin' these in for?"

"Um... a while."

A smile caught her face as she turned away, cheeks nervous patches of pink and eyes puddles of shameful blue turning to the floor.

"Well, now's the time to let them out. Looks like Twilight's still sleepin' like a foal."

Rarity released another short burst of pressure - this one squeaky and almost tuneful - and the sleeping Unicorn's muzzle twitched for a moment.

Applejack's hoof continued to work along the surface of Rarity's belly; her head rested to her neck as she planted a tender kiss that made Rarity shiver.

"Go on. Let it all out. Don't mind me."

Her hoof encouraged another release with a gentle rub. Almost without conscious effort, it glided up across her slender frame before pausing over the shape of her rump.

frrrrrrpppppbbsssshhhhhhhhhhhhh
Rarity's warm leakage of gas brushed past her cheeks with a quiet rasp, though as Applejack's hoof pulled one of her flanks outwards the sound drew out into an airy hiss, like the sharp sound of an agitated cat.

Taken by curiosity, Applejack leaned forwards to get a big, pronounced whiff of Rarity's fartstream.
The smell that assaulted her senses was far, far stronger than what she had anticipated.
She reared back, coughing and spluttering and wishing she had her trusty hat on hoof to waft away the miasma.
"Good gravy, girl! Reeks higher than a pig sty in July! What in Ponyville have you been eatin'!?"

"Applejack, please..." Rarity couldn't help but smile bashfully. Something about the earth pony reacting so aggressively to her gas only stirred her arousal into more of a frenzy.

Applejack felt almost envious of the smell the fastidious fashionista could produce. Her farts had the heat and stench of an air vent at a boiled broccoli distillery... if such a thing even existed.

For a moment Twilight stirred, features contracting and hoof batting against her muzzle as if to wave the intrusive smell of Rarity’s release away.

“Mmhn. N-No, Princess... I... don’t want another plate of cabbage...”

Her body twisted under the covers as her nose inhaled more of the unsettling stink.

Applejack and Rarity found themselves unable to repress a burst of childish laughter.

“You’re givin’ her some sweet dreams.”

“Sour dreams, more like.”

Whether motivated by the persisting presence of Rarity’s orgasmic musk, or the excitable taboo of aiding the unicorn in showering Twilight with foul-smelling farts, Applejack’s left hoof was drawn beneath her and found that her own arousal was moistened.

The soft sound of her clopping was not unnoticed by Rarity, though she said nothing. Her face still sparked by childish mischief, she brought her plot gently down to Twilight’s face.

“I’d like you to remember just how putrid my gas smells as you watch this.”

“Remember? Shucks - I can still smell it!”

With a laugh Rarity caught her bottom lip in her teeth and strained herself slightly.

As Applejack heard the flush of air escaping the unicorn’s tush her masturbation grew more rapid.

“Take it, Twilight Sparkle. Smell my foul windy little bottom belches!”

Still deep in slumber, Twilight sniffed at the hot gust of gas tickling her nostrils. Her face once more a contraction of confusion and cringing disgust.

She wetted her tongue and moaned, lips parted slightly as that little pink muscle peeped out; bared against the flurry of fumes hanging dense around her head.

“What do you say, Applejack? Shall I give our dear little friend something to eat? A nice little broccoli breathmint? She looks quite ravished.”

“Y-You filthy little fartmare.”

Calling on the perfect precision that came to her naturally, Rarity adjusted herself until she could feel Twilight’s lips against her puckering hole.

With a contraction of her abdomen she sent a gush of toasty wind pouring into Twilight’s oblivious mouth; within seconds the purple unicorn spluttered and coughed, turning away from Rarity and defensively raising her hooves to her face.

“She’s gonna be mighty confused when she wakes up with the taste of farts on her tongue.”

“She shall never guess where they came from.”

The ponies shared a secret smile and Applejack soon found her head again rested against Rarity’s neck.

She left a silent kiss on her skin, taking just a moment to enjoy the clean smell of her coat. A stark contrast to the foul air venting from her behind.

The tickle of Applejack’s inhalations over Rarity’s fur purred her senses; she felt a calm wash over every inch of her body, and allowed another hissy volley of gas to pass over Twilight’s face.

Applejack had never imagined the sound of flatulence could be so romantic. That coarse smell that tinged her nostrils was now rife with quivering, undying love.

Those gentle feminine shifts and grunts and strains that preceded every fart were marks of her adoration.

The two mares rested against each other without words; passionate kisses passing over wet, hungry lips and tight bashful cheekbones.

Their warmth radiated through every pulse of each other’s heart.

The room was occupied by Rarity’s frequent releases.
Windy puffs of broccoli gas, long, drawn out hole-burning hot ones, tapering falsetto squeals pressed through that tight balloon knot of muscle.

Outside, on the cold frost of the windowpane, the rain did not abate.
A million flitting ice shards tapping their watery chill against Twilight’s treehouse.

Swells of wind carried patches of rain across the town, fluttering awning and rattling carts as it settled low against the ground and hurried through every alley and street.

In the upper floor of Sugarcube corner, a sleeping Pinkie Pie undulated her bedsheets with a growling flutter-tongue squeaker.

High above Ponyville in her cloudsdale home Rainbow Dash kept herself warm with a wet blast of eggy flatulence.

Off towards the forest Angel was alerted by a low trombone note beneath Fluttershy’s warm blanket.

High in the lofty royal wings of Canterlot castle, the two sisters unknowingly traded mid-slumber stinkers.

Still, the rain continued.