Anon's Aromatherapy

by Unicorn-y

Rating: mature
Tags: Sex, Random, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Anon, Original Character, Porn, Second Person, Fetish
Length: 2284

A short NSFW one-shot about Anon succumbing to her estrus-addled senses.

Heat season is almost over, and you, Anon, a mare with a bit of a lust issue (and a snark issue), have managed to keep yourself and poor, unsuspecting stallions safe. However, ominous winds blow your way; specifically, from that dark, secluded alley over there. You think you're investigating it for the fate of all Equestria (how noble of you), but quickly start to lose focus as the wind dies down and the air gets heavier the further in the alley you go. Heavy, heady, hot; the kind of hot that reminds you what season it still is.

Short NSFW one-shot I wrote purley because I have a hard time finding a fic that fits my kinks in just the right ways, and decided “fuck it, I’ll do it myself”. Perhaps this will fit yours too!
Kinks include: Olfactophilia, Musk, light Hypnosis, and light NonCon.

Published 2021-02-05 19:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-02-05 19:10:00 UTC

Heavy Breathing

You are Anon. You are an unassuming green mare, with a black mane and tail. You’re not really sure what your talent is, and it seems your question mark tramp stamp isn’t very sure either. What you are sure of however, is how well you’ve managed your heat this season. You’ve kept your composure through every- no? What do you- oh pfff, okay well not that time; but uh, ahem, almost every saucy situation that tempted you to lose yourself. Careful planning and copious days of never leaving your house have let you remain unhindered where other, more social mares may have fallen.

Thankfully, heat season is on its brink, and you’ve survived it! You’ve also decided to finally leave your humble abode and treat yourself. To what exactly, is what you were just trying to figure out. Ice cream? Cake? A video game you’ve been eyeing for a while? A salad for once? Oh don’t make that face, you know you need one. Despite your aversion to anything remotely healthy, there’s an abundance of other food in Ponyville’s market that could surely appease your appetite.

The wonderful smell of food wafts over to you just before you turn the corner, quickening your gait. The stalls are filled with all different kinds of confection and cuisine, be it fried, baked, grilled, you name it! If you had trouble deciding what you wanted before, you’re absolutely confounded now. You trot around to the various stands and shop around for something that catches your attention. Pizza? Just had some yesterday. Hayburger? Not quite in the mood for one. The stir-fry cart smells heavenly, but you’re too short on bits. Unfortunately, the only conclusion you’ve come to is that you probably shouldn’t have skipped breakfast.

Though, something does catch your attention. A new scent invades your senses… but you can’t quite place it. It has a familiar twinge to it, almost like you know what it is, but can’t remember its identity. You take a few more sniffs of the air. You instinctively know it’s not food, so that’s a start. You stop and take a look around. Nopony else seems to have noticed it, yet you can pick it out over the fresh cooking. You shake your head. It’s nothing, you say to yourself, going about your original plan.

Unbeknownst to you, every step you’ve taken since that first sniff has brought you closer and closer to the smell’s origin. As you pass by an alleyway, a light breeze blows past you, causing you to almost jerk to a stop. Your eyelids flutter a bit, and your mind gets a little foggy as you take a breath, turning to face the source. You still don’t know what it is, but you have finally decided on what you want. More.

Er- wh-what you meant to say, is that you want to… investigate this... potentially dangerous phenomenon. Yes! That was it. If a pony as iron-willed as yourself was being affected so much, imagine if a poor dreadfully in-heat mare were to walk past. You then started to wonder... why would this scent in particular affect a mare in heat? You stop to think about it, far enough into the alley that you can no longer smell the food. Hold it, when did you get into the alley? You don’t remember walking here. You take a deep breath.

Want.. more. The aroma overpowers your thoughts, and you comply, taking another lungfull. Your vision goes hazy and your legs feel like jelly. You quickly shake your head, tell yourself you need to turn around immediately, to go take a cold shower. But… you can’t. Even the smallest inhalation drowns you in that wonderful smell, throwing your body for a loop. You stumble forward, veering left and right like a drunkard.

The air is heavier and warmer than before. Is it just you, or is the alley getting damp? Leaning against a wall for a moment, you finally notice the wetness between your thighs. ...It is most certainly just you. The breeze has died down, but the heady odor has gotten stronger. To try and control yourself a little, you shallow your breathing. It works for the moment. You take in your surroundings (as if there was much to look at) and notice your tail is flagged to the sky. You.. should probably not be giving the entire town a view of your bits. As the decent and proper mare you are, you lower your tail back down.

That was a mistake. Just as your very enthused clit winks out, your tail brushes against it, causing you to gasp sharply. The world goes black for a few seconds. You didn’t just cum to that, did you? Looking back, your rear end is no longer competing with the stands in the distance to display itself, as it is firmly pressed against a wall. Brick is not very soft, you’ve discovered. As you gingerly step away, a light sniff causes your tail to flag and your thoroughly moist marehood to wink once more. It finally clicks in your head. Musk.

Understanding the essence that has been dragging you around may have been more of a detriment than you expected. New thoughts fill your consciousness, all of them raunchy, and very unbecoming of such a sophisticated mare. The posh, uppity accent you don when you say that to yourself does nothing to distract you. It.. might have made things worse. A prim and proper lady, ravaged by an unrelenting yet mysteriously alluring beast? You.. you need to find the source. Screw your (almost) perfect record this season, you want, no you need a stallion to plow your plot.

You can no longer form a coherent thought, unless that thought involves your muzzle buried in the crotch of the stallion that’s producing that godly fragrance. You can just barely register a few things: your nethers ache for a stuffing, you’re moving, and you’re moving closer to your target. Your eyes glaze over as even more images of getting rutted into the ground steal your focus. Is the stallion aggressive? Will he slam you against a wall (hopefully not the brick one) and fuck your throat? Maybe he’s- a unicorn?

It takes a full second to process what, or who, is in front of you. You don’t recognize them. A teal coat with a black and silver mane. He’s sitting on some.. box. You can’t see his cutie mark on account of his legs being spread in a very, very inviting way. Is his horn glowi-? Your nose scrunches up as it smacks into his heavy ballsack. You hadn’t stopped walking forward the entire time. Dear Celestia above, the scent.. You feel a tension in your lower abdomen wind up tighter and tighter. One, greedy, deep breath, and.. release. You orgasm on the spot, knees buckling as you slowly slump to the ground in ecstasy, moaning all the way down.

Everything is hazy, and the world spins in ways it’s not supposed to. What just happened? You’re… in an alley. There’s a unicorn here. You think you just had the hardest orgasm in your life. Why? Who is he? Are you on the floor? You should go. You should... take another whiff. You do. Your worries wash away and your drenched pussy aches for more. A warm, dark blue glow envelops you, and you’re being lifted up onto the platform the stallion was sitting on a second ago. A hot breath tickles the back of your neck. You think he’s whispering something to you, but you can’t focus on the words.

You don’t want to focus on the words. Screw words, complete thoughts are for nerds anyway. You’re perfectly fine doing nothing but lying limp, getting your brains fucked out by a very well-endowed stallion. Speaking of... a light nip at your neck sends a shiver down your spine. You involuntarily spread your legs a smidge more, and soon the thick tip of his cock is pressed against your well-lubricated entrance. Did he ask a question? It spreads your lower lips wide, slowly making its way inside. You mewl at the action, encouraging him to go further. He bites your neck again, less gently this time, as his entire length pushes its way through your inner walls. You squeeze at him, wordlessly begging for more as you pant and whine like a... like a mare.. in heat... which is, exactly what you are.

You’re in heat. You forgot you were in heat. How could you haa-a-aave... f-forgo-gotten... He slowly slides out of you, and you can hardly believe you’ve taken his girth; it’s reminding you why you’ve been unable to form a coherent thought. You barely have time to moan in protest before he thrusts himself back into you, hilting as his balls slap your underside. You yelp, unprepared. Your estrus-stricken body is brimming with pleasure, as you savor every single one of his forceful thrusts. Back and forth, in and out, moaning and grunting and biting a-and... You can barely hear yourself think over your own moans (as if there was much going on up there in the first place).

He begins slowing his pace. In contrast, he's putting much more force into each thrust, rocking your body with every maneuver. You can feel every throb, every ridge. His muscles tense, and you know exactly what's coming next as he ravages you. A reminder of your estrus flashes through your head, and you can only hope he has the courtesy to pull out. Suddenly, he pulls all the way out with a wet 'pop', and the lack of cock pumping thick cream into your womb fills you with both relief and frustration. It does seem as if he's trotted up to your front side. He hikes himself up on the platform, his member dangling at your muzzle.

You can smell your own brand of fragrance as your juices drip off of that tantalizing staff. The aroma mixes with his, and it makes your head swim even more. He just... he smells so fucking good. You know what must be done, and you open your mouth, ready for a good taste. He doesn't get very far, but it's more than enough for you. You glide and swirl your tongue along as best you can, coaxing him to soak you in cum. You seem to be doing a good job, as he's had to hold himself back from a few involuntary thrusts. You've tasted yourself out of curiosity a few times, and you really did not understand the appeal. Here, now, however, you can't get enough. His tip begins to flare in your mouth, and your lips do their best to curl into a smile.

After a few final twitches of warning, the back of your throat is splattered with the first helping of his marvelously thick seed. And the second, and the third, overflowing your mouth and spilling out through your lips. You struggle to swallow it all. He pulls his still-flared, still-cumming stallionhood out and makes sure to give your face a nice coating as well. You lie there, unable to move, wearing the expression of a mare that got fucked silly and then some. You might be drooling a bit, you certainly know your pussy is. He sets his balls upon your muzzle one final time, and you take one final deep breath of his musk before you finally pass out.

The cool air on your fur rouses you a little. You start to stir back into consciousness, wondering why your muscles were so sore. The memories of your dubious encounter flood back, and you jump awake, snapping your head up, almost falling off your perch. As you scramble to steady yourself, you look around. Still in the same alley. Still.. erm, coated. You cautiously sniff the air. Not counting the mess that is yourself, it seems untainted. You take a deep, relaxed breath of the cool night breeze.

Night? It's night. You've been out for quite a long time. Your stomach rumbles, and you're taken back to why you went out in the first place: food. If it's not too late, Sugar Cube Corner might still be open. You decide you'd rather chance that than make yourself another cup of ramen. As you step off of the platform, something shiny glitters in the moonlight. It's carefully placed on the corner, next to where you once were. A metallic business card? It's nearly the same teal as the stallion from before.

"Steel Shaft Fletching, Maritrot Complex, Manehattan"
"Visit me any time.~"

You want to toss it into one of the dumpsters nearby. You facehoof. As your hoof passes by your nose, you catch a light waft of his scent, still stuck to you. Steel Shaft. You hope his parents didn't name him that way. You tucked the card into your mane, and figured you'd ask him yourself one day. For now, you realize how filthy you are, and head home. Food will have to wait.

Author's Note

Hello! Friendly neighborhood but not-so-neighborhood-friendly Unicorn-y here! I hope you enjoyed my first fic! I'm still uneasy about publishing this in the first place, as I've never written smut before. Or fanfiction before. Okay you know what, I plain do not have much of a track record. Aaaanyway...

I appreciate any and all feedback, and this includes criticism! I might've overdone a thing or two here and there and as someone with no editor/proofreader, any assistance that improves my writing is wholely welcome. I'll do my best to fix any grammar mistakes pointed out!

Thanks for reading!
~ Unicorn-y ~