Familial Fraternisation

There were few moments in Babs’ life when she tried to be quiet, but she’d had more of them in the last three months then she had over her entire life. Truth be told, she hadn’t done much to prepare for being a mom, figuring her maternal instincts would carry her through it, and her hubris had left her woefully ill prepared. Actually having her foal had been the easy part - caring for him, well, that was where the real work began.

Fortunately, according to Granny Smith, Twilight, and the umpteen dozen other ponies who’d come to visit their little bundle of joy, she was doing a damn fine job with everything. It helped that the little guy took after his father, in that he was very quiet for a foal, but he was still a literal and figurative handful. ‘Little Mac, as he’d been spontaneously named in the delivery room, was nearly twenty pounds of needy and very hungry mini-colt. It wasn’t until he’d started breastfeeding that Babs found out exactly why her melons had grown to triple their original size.

It may have been her imagination, but she swore all he did was eat and sleep. In and of itself, rearing him wouldn’t be all that bad, yet there was a problem - he rarely ever got drowsy unless he was being held. She and Mac had tried keeping their baby in a standard crib, for the first week or two, until she discovered he’d broken out of his confinement and begun crawling around their home. Reinforcing the cradle had only served as a temporary solution, seeing as he’d destroyed it two further times, until she finally threw in the towel and cradled him until he fell asleep in her arms.

To Big Mac’s credit, he’d been shaping up to be one hell of a father. When he was home, the big guy would regularly hold and play with his son - shit, she’d caught him saying more to the baby in three months than she had to anyone over the last year! While she couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, she had a sneaking feeling that he was gonna spoil the living hell out of their colt.

Silently peering down at the slumbering bab, seeing him noiselessly turn and get comfortable, she couldn’t help but smile. He had his father’s eyes, a mop of fern-green hair, a golden coat, and freckles on his cheeks and tush. All in all, he was downright adorable and, if her suspicions were right, he’d grow up to be as tall and imposing as his dad. As she slowly backed away, doing everything in her power to keep from making even the slightest bit of noise, she reached the exit and cautiously reached for the doorknob.

There were rare instances when, with a combination of luck and after playing with the little guy, ‘Lil Mac would be so tuckered out that she would leave him in his crib for a few hours. It’s not like she minded spending nearly all of her time with him was a problem, but having just a touch of freedom was a breath of fresh air. Slowly closing the door, taking care to be as quiet as a mouse, she turned around, spotted a figure ominously looming over her, and nearly shit her pants.

As Mac opened his mouth to speak, seeing the startled expression on his lover’s face, she reached up and jammed a finger against his lips. He’d simply hoped to see her and their little one, having expected them to be lounging in the master bedroom or living room, so he’d had no way of knowing she’d just put him to bed for a midday nap. Stomping around him, she seized his wrist and pulled him along behind herself.

It wasn’t until they’d made it down the hallway and into the living room did she stop and turn to face him. She didn’t look that upset - then gain, she clearly wasn’t delighted to see him either. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, waiting to hear what, if anything, she had to say, he mutely watched her fold her arms over her obscenely large chest.

“Thanks for scaring the hell out of me, Jackass,” Babs grumbled, prodding his sternum.

She’d been tempted to say something worse, but had caught herself. Aside from being the primary caregiver for ‘Lil Mac, since Big Mac was out supporting them most days, she’d been dealing with an issue of her own - her sensual needs. Squeezing out a near-record breaking sized foal had not been a forgiving experience for her or her marehood, demanding she take over a month to fully recuperate.

Flying in the face of the doctor’s orders, she’d asserted herself with her mate less than a week after giving birth - unfortunately, her enthusiasm had done nothing to help with her recovery, leading to another two months of abstinence. She’d desperately wanted to give her big-dicked stud another swing, hoping to feel his heavenly length railing her out, but he’d been remarkably resolute. In a supreme show of willpower, he’d refrained from doing more than oral since she’d had their baby.

Giving birth had done nothing to quell her insatiable thirst for her stallion, driving her nearly mad with lust. An exacerbating factor was that, having finally freed the nearly twenty pound foal from her belly, she had a tremendous burst of energy. With little more than a few stretch marks on her stomach, and the added weight of her titanic tits, she felt as rambunctious as she had prior to being knocked up.

While she was exceedingly proud to be the mother of a healthy and strong colt, the lack of amorous attention, paired with the responsibility of looking after the bab morning, noon, and night, had left her in a less than ideal state. On one hand, she loved their child with all her heart - on the other, she wanted nothing more than to be bent over and fucked into a coma. Impatiently tapping her foot, keenly aware of the wet patches of fabric over her dark, extremely tender nipples, she waited to hear what her lover had to say.

Mac pursed his lips, finding himself at an impasse. He’d knocked off early from work, promising Applejack that he’d cover her shift in the orchard on Saturday, but that had only been the first part of his drawn out, exceedingly protracted plan. It had taken him several months to finally work up the courage to speak to Babs, putting off the moment since before ‘Lil Mac had entered their lives. Slipping his hand into his pocket, feeling a small box therein, he swallowed hard.

Having her in his life had been a game-changer, making him happier than he’d been in ages, and that was before they’d had a son. He’d wanted to do something epic for her, for both of them, but it had taken him a while to save up enough money to pull it off. As he slowly sank to one knee, gathering every ounce of courage he could muster, he wrapped his fingers around the tiny case and pulled his hand free.

“By the way, why are you home so early?” Babs pressed, quirking a brow. “It’s not like I was expecting to find you looming over me like a serial ki - What are you doing?”

One of the reasons she wasn’t in the best of moods was because she honestly hadn’t anticipated seeing him for a few hours. With the autumn harvest in full swing, having recruited a number of Apples from Appleloosa, she’d known he would be busier than usual until the orchards were clear. Seeing him lower himself to the floor, wondering what in the hell he was up to, she watched him shakily extend an arm in her direction.

“I mean,” she began, shifting anxiously, “I’m not really mad, I just didn’t think I’d…”

She fell silent, as he presented his hand, unfurled his fingers, and revealed a minuscule wooden case. It took her mind a second to put the pieces together, causing her to step back once she comprehended what he was doing. Reflexively covering her muzzle, awestruck beyond words, her eyes flew to his face.

“Babs,” Mac breathed no louder than a whisper on the wind, “Ah wanted to ask you something…”

Looking up to her, meeting her eyes, he choked. Months of preparation flew straight out the window, peering up at her, but he had to power through - he had to. Hanging his head, reluctantly averting his gaze, he lifted his other arm and carefully opened the box. Even with all the savings he’d done, he hadn’t been able to afford the most lavish token of his affection - still, it was the best he could afford, and he dearly hoped she’d accept his offer.

“Babs, you know Ah love ya,” he continued, hearing his voice crack, “and...and Ah wanted to make it official.” Shifting in place, forcing himself to look up at her, he weakly smiled. “Will you be my - Ooof!”

Before he could even pop the question, she tackled him to the floor. Ambushed in the truest sense of the word, knocked onto his back, the opened case clattered to the floor beside him. Taken aback, feeling her weight settle atop him, her assault continued unabated. Kissing her way over his broad chest, up his neck, and to his cheek, she plastered herself against him.

Without so much as a second thought, the moment her lips pressed to his, he wrapped his arms around her. Groaning, pressing her tongue into his mouth, she redoubled her efforts. The affectionate attack, while a pleasant surprise, more than likely meant she agreed to his offer, yet that wasn’t necessarily any guarantee. Momentarily pausing, pulling his head back, he stared down his muzzle at her.

“Is that a -”

“Yes!” she bleated, burying her face in his shoulder. “Sweet, merciful Celestia, yes!!!”

Of all the things the big lug could have sprung on her, she would never in a million years have guessed he’d propose. Looking to the side, spying the case, she reached out and scooped up the heartfelt gift. In her excitement to love on her soon-to-be hubby, having knocked the ring out of his hand, and she had every intention of getting a better look.

Bringing the box closer, her eyes widened in awe. The little gold band was adorned with a heart-cut emerald that was flanked by a pair of what appeared to be smaller peridot stones. She couldn’t give a single, solitary fuck about the engagement ring being nontraditional - for her, it couldn’t have been more perfect. Awkwardly slipping it over one finger, balancing herself on her tits, she gleefully inspected her hand.

“You know, you didn’t have to do this,” she giggled, leaning in and pecking his cheek. “It’s not like I would have ever left your big, silly ass.”

It was true, she meant every word. Even if he hadn’t proposed to her, she would have happily stayed at his side for as long as he would have her. Unable to control herself, wetting his shirt with the milk dribbling from her nipples, she grabbed his head and passionately kissed him. In the blink of an eye, her stance on marriage changed.

For most of her life, she’d always considered impending brides to be a silly, overly-excited lot of ponies - hell, she’d even had to fight back laughing when one of her childhood friends hysterically told her that she was getting hitched. It had taken the love of her colossal cousin, being bred, and birthing an incestuous foal to make her realize the importance of matrimony. Overcome with joy, subconsciously grinding her hips over her betrothed groin, she sensed something deliciously large twitch against her loins.

As her laughter trailed off, replaced by an impish smirk, she reared back and walked her fingers down between his massive, rock-hard pecs. “You know I’m gonna have to return the favor,” she began, slowly moving her hand towards his loins, “but I’m not sure they make cock rings in your size.”

“I…” Mac gulped, glancing down at his crotch.

He hadn’t intended to pop a boner while proposing - then again, he hadn’t foreseen her mounting and french kissing him like a lust-crazed teenager. Grabbing her shoulders, gently attempting to move her to the side, she reacted in a flash. Seizing hold of his wrists, throwing her weight forward, she leveled her considerable strength against him.

“Then again,” she purred, tauntingly wiggling her plump ass, “I know somewhere you could stuff that fat fuck-stick of yours.”

Lifting one finger to protest, with his arms pinned to the ground, he faltered. The doctor had said they could probably start having sex after the prolonged hiatus following her impetuous attempt, yet he’d been reluctant - not because he didn’t believe the physician, but because he knew good and darn well that she was not the tender lovemaking type. If and when they finally fucked, he realized she wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d screwed her brains out.

“Don’t say anything,” she whispered, bringing her snout to within an inch of his nose. “You’re gonna lay there, like a good colt, and let Mommy do as she wants, right?”

He hesitantly nodded, peering down her shirt and to her cleavage, bringing a twisted smile to her lips. Weeks upon weeks of being pent up bubbled to the surface, clouding her better judgement with lust. Her marish urges, the proposal, and the oddly vacant sensation within her womb practically demanded that she repay him - not on the couch, not bent over a counter, not on the bed, but right there in the middle of the living room floor.

Getting her knees under herself, sliding back just a touch, she reached down and patted his thigh. “Brace ‘em.”

He immediately compiled, bending his lower limbs and planting his feet on the floor. She’d been with him long enough to tell when he was eager, and he was definitely eager. For starters, she hadn’t seen him pop a boner that fast in a few days - secondly, and more curiously, she hadn’t once seen or heard him relieving his sexual tension. Somehow, for some unfathomable reason, he hadn’t jacked off once since ‘Lil Mac had joined them - of course, she couldn’t be completely certain about what he did in the orchard, but he had to be hankering for a piece of her.

Lifting her top up and over her head, removing the lone article covering her torso, she theatrically turned her shoulders from side to side and set her breasts swinging. It wasn’t like she enjoyed wearing a bra, and it’s not like she was out of the house all that often, so she saw no need to wear the stifling undergarment. Flinging her shirt, which she’d purloined from her lover’s dresser, to the side, she lifted and squeezed her bosoms.

Fountains of milk sprayed over his torso, spattering his upper half, as she snickered above him. He’d always had a fondness for her titties, one which had grown nearly fetishistic after she’d begun lactating, and she had every intention of leveling that against him. Leaning in, bringing one mountainous mammary to his muzzle, she didn’t even have to ask for him to nurse. His head shot forward, and his lips latched around her teat, as he closed his eyes and started to suckle.

She could have stayed where she was, letting him nurse on her, but that would hardly be befitting of his future bride - that and she needed to free his hardening stallionhood. Sliding forward, she lifted her waist and reached between her thighs. Expertly unbuttoning his jeans, she pulled at his fly and sweetly caressed the growing bulge in his undies. While simply feeling his dick wasn’t nearly as good as having it filling her, the sensation was enough to serve as a humble, albeit remarkably restrained form of foreplay.

Swallowing mouthful after mouthful of rich, sweet milk from her udder-like tit, keenly aware of her hand on his package, Mac hooked a thumb over her panties, gently pulled, and accidentally ripped the waistband of her undergarment. While he hadn’t intended to rend the article, his strength and enthusiasm proved to be a disastrous combination. Hearing and likely feeling the fabric tear, she grunted and pushed herself up.

All he could do was watch, as she grabbed the collar of his shirt and ripped the article to pieces. For a fleeting second, having his chest fully exposed, he’d thought she’d be placated - he was dead wrong. Seated on his midsection, she awkwardly grabbed his pants, pulled, and tore a sizable portion of denim off of him. After her third attempt to disrobe him, shredding his jeans to and boxers rags, his throbbing length sprang free.

She was really testing his self restraint, hitting all the right buttons and practically demanding he act. Firmly grasping her ample hips, he effortlessly lifted her and moved her back. As the battering ram-like head of his cock kissed her hot and sublimely wet entrance, feeling her wink against his glans, he grinned up at her. If she wanted him to completely ruin her, after he’d decided to put a ring on it, far be it for him to deny her humble request.

Flexing his stallionhood and bucking his hips, sandwiching his shaft between her plump, meaty buns, he gave her a taste of what he could deliver. Their carnal hijinks often had a competitive aspect, with each of them pushing and teasing the other to the breaking point, despite there being no real need for it. There was something genuinely fun about working her up, something he’d learned from doing it to him innumerable times, and he couldn’t help but test her limits.

“Considering your apparent distaste for undies, maybe you should get me a new wardrobe,” she casually remarked, absentmindedly tweaking and twisting her nipples. “Next time we go to town, let’s pick up a few aprons for me - you know, since you apparently want to keep me barefoot and pregnant.”

Mac’s heart fluttered in his chest, as thoughts of her committing herself to being a full-fledged homemaker assailed him. There weren’t many mares who embraced the old ways, tending to the house and children while their stallions brought home the bacon, but he’d always been enamored with the thought. Subconsciously lowering her, stopping just before he penetrated her, he noticed her smile broaden.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she purred, squeezing her breasts between her arms. “Coming home every day to a nice, home cooked meal, watching me look after the kids, and fucking me over the kitchen counter…”

She’s never really given much thought about her future, figuring she’d probably wind up taking part in the family business in Manehattan, but the notion of being a housewife wasn’t unappealing in the slightest. Broadening her stance, slipping the first inch or two of him into her cunt, she trembled. Even if he wasn’t about to start rutting her, she wasn’t about to make his job an easy one.

“Think about it,” she continued, constricting around his dick. “Not knowing when my safe-days are, pumping your foal batter into me whenever or whenever you want, we might end up needing a bigger place before long.”

Frankly, she’d enjoyed her pregnancy far, far more than she should have. The additional weight had been a small hindrance, and the odd cravings for snacks at odd hours could be a bit of a nuisance, but carrying around a foal had simply felt right. It was strange to think she’d find herself smitten with being a mother, but be damned if that wasn’t exactly what had happened. Seeing his hesitation to plow her fracture, feeling him gradually lower her and sink into her depths, she rubbed her belly.

“The foal-factory is open for business,” she murmured, licking her lips, “so how about you make a deposit.”

Her final comment apparently did the trick, as he secured his grip and thrust up into her. The sensation of his girthy length stretching her open, filling her completely after oh-so long was magnificent beyond words. The prolonged abstinence had done nothing to detract from how wonderful he felt - if anything, it was better than she remembered. Throwing her weight down and back, sheathing his entirety within her greedy snatch, she impaled herself and sat on his lap.

Glancing down to the ring on her finger, unable to restrain herself any longer, she raised her waist, freed a few inches of his length, and started nonchalantly fucking herself on him. The head of his cock kissed her cervix with each downstroke, while she felt her lower lips being dragged out with each ascent. It was damn-near cathartic, taking him after such a momentous occasion, and he quickly joined her efforts.

Every bit as hot and snug as he remembered, Mac began rutting her in earnest. Slowly, steadily, he relished the unbelievably blissful sensations she afforded. It may have been his imagination, but something about feeling her embrace after she’d agreed to be his wife elevated the situation. He wasn’t just screwing some random broad - no, he was making love to the mare who’d won his heart.

Lifting his shoulders from the floor, moving one hand up her back and over her shoulder, he cradled the back of her head and gently pulled her forward. Her eyes drifted closed, knowing what was coming, as he locked lips with her. If there was a better way to memorialize the event and their continued relationship, he couldn’t think of it. Driving his hips upward, meeting her descents, he fell into a steady rhythm with her.

In perfect harmony, passionately making out with one another, the two moved like two parts of a whole. Neither would have thought they’d become an item, much less start a family, but they completed each other. It didn’t matter that they were distantly related, having received blessings from anyone and everyone who’d heard about their incestuous relationship, or that their personalities differed wildly - the only thing that was important was that they found solace, comfort, and belonging in one another’s arms.

“Fuck me - I needed this,” Babs groaned, breaking their kiss and leaning back.

Bracing her hands on his knees, increasing her speed, she bounced and gyrated atop her stud. She could practically feel her vacant, ravenously hungry womb pining to be filled, to be put to use, as he plumbed her depths. Staring down at him, past her heaving bosoms, the pieces fell into place. This is what she was made for, to serve the divine stallion and carry on his - no, their legacy.

Arching her back, giving him a better view of the action, she hastily moved one hand to her clit. Aside from being excruciatingly pleasurable, the act of getting herself off while being fucked put on a bit of a show for her mate. Rubbing and kneading the sensitive little nub, she rolled her head back and moaned out. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed it, the way he filled her and caressed her canal, and it drove her flying to release at a record pace.

Surpassing his speed, nearly flying into a frenzy, her compulsions drove her onward. She rightly couldn’t say what she’d done to deserve him, let alone to have him virtually worship the ground she walked on, yet she found herself immeasurably thankful for whatever power had brought them together. What had begun as a lustful romp had evolved into something so much more - true love.

Mac’s palms glided over her waist and to her chest, as he fought to match her tempo. Peering up at her, both seeing and feeling every ounce of her zeal, his passion soared. As far as he was concerned, they were made to be together. Adjusting the angle of his thrusts, mercilessly pummeling her g-spot with his medial ring, he fiercely tugged on her teats.

Her climactic howl resonated through the chamber, as a deluge of nectar gushed from around his pistoning length. While it was gratifying to know he’d caused her to peak with such little effort, it did nothing to dull his motions - in fact, it did quite the opposite. Transitioning from a series of deep, steady plunges, taking full advantage of her momentary distraction, he set to jackhammering her like it was the last day of his life.

Pummelling her inner gate, all but feeling her desire to be bred, his restraint gradually fell away. She was his, as much as he was hers, and he would not leave her wanting. His feet sank into the carpet, as he drove her entire body upward with every thrust. Seizing the reins, with her orgasm having sapped her strength, his domineering side leapt to the fore.

His typically reserved, well-mannered demeanor slipped away, crushed under the weight of his stallionly compulsions to breed and conquer. She’d given him a son and a reason for being, and yet he was compelled to claim her and cement his standing as the patriarch of their growing household. He wasn’t sure how serious she’d been about her little offer of being a homemaker, but he prayed she hadn’t been joking because he was about to do his level best to knock her up again.

Battering her cervix, he did what he could to stave off his impending climax. It was bad enough that he’d been blue-balled for nearly a quarter of a year, having held off on getting off to wait for her, but being ambushed in the living room had done little to help with his atrophied endurance. He couldn’t fathom how big or thick his load would be, but he knew right where it was going to wind up. With his eyes screwed firmly shut, rutting her with nearly everything he had, something grabbed his wrist.

It took everything Babs had to compose herself enough to take hold of his arms, having nearly lost herself to the cataclysmic climax which ravaged her mind and body, but she was inspired. Judging from how hard his shaft was pulsing, and his self-imposed dry spell, she figured he wasn’t going to last long. Pulling his mits from her rack, locking her fingers with his, she held his hands and longingly gazed down at his handsome face.

Allowing herself to be used, squeezing his shaft with every backstroke, she lowered her face towards him. Good looking, kind hearted, caring, and hung like an absolute god, he was perfect in every conceivable way, and she would gladly devote herself to him. Willing her body to comply with her wishes, slowly beginning to move again, she threw her body down against him.

Bending at the waist, somehow able to persist in match his machine gun-like rate of plowing, she cradled his face and deeply kissed him. Their tongues entwined, and their breath mingled, as he began to flair. Though she’d only cum minutes before, her refractory period had diminished to nothing. Her marehood quivered, tears of joy streamed down her face, and her womb descended, knowing its purpose would soon be fulfilled.

Knowing he was walking the razor’s edge, about to pop at any second, she slipped her muzzle to his ear and gave voice to her longings. “Let’s make ‘Lil Mac a little sister…”

Holding her back with one hand, while sinking his fingers of the other into her rump, he gave one final, titanic plunge, slammed his stallionhood as deeply as possible, and came. The sensation of his seed flowing into her was indescribable, undoing her in an instant. Screaming to the heavens, nearly convulsing atop him, she climaxed instantaneously.

Her orgasmic wail, the knowledge that he was feeding her starved womb, and her plea were nirvanic, heightening Mac’s bliss an order of magnitude greater than anything he’d ever experienced before. She was more than his cousin, more than a lover or mother of his child - somehow, despite having never given the word much credit, he realized that she was his soulmate. Turning his head, locking lips with her yet again, he pumped his essence into her eagerly awaiting depths.

With their bodies entangled, heatedly making out on the floor, the pair rode out their rapture with one another. Sorcery was an affair they’d become all too familiar with, having seen such things for as long as they both could remember, yet they’d found what true magic was - love. Rolling to the side, pinning her beneath himself, he pulled his head back.

A strand of saliva connected their lips, as they locked eyes. In spite of just having blown his load, still entombed within her silken walls, he was more than hard enough to continue. Breaking their embrace, shifting his hands to her knees, he lifted her legs and resumed rutting her. She’d broken the seal, unleashed the beast, and he wasn’t going to stop until every drop of his precious seed was deposited within her.

Bab’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, having only just regained some modicum of her sanity. Considering they were going to be wed, likely within the next handful of months, and the fact that he seemed hellbent on flooding her with his virile spunk, a startling realization settled upon her - a typical wedding dress wouldn’t fit the bill. Wild imaginings of herself strutting down the aisle, shamelessly carrying his second child, reignited her passion into a roaring inferno.

Wrestling her legs free, snapping them around his waist, she tightly clung to him. A primordial power welled up within her, seemingly imbuing her with the might of fertility itself, as she deliriously met his every plunge. Being a proud mother was one thing, but she wanted everyone to know who had won her heart and staked a claim on her mind, body, and soul.

“Tomorrow - Oh fuck - we’re going to get me fitted for a maternity wedding gown,” she growled, repeatedly flexing her legs to aid his savage thrusts.

Smiling deliriously, overjoyed that she wanted to hold the ceremony while gravid, blood rushed to his loins. “Eeeyup!!!”

Going at it like a pair of rabid, lust-crazed animals, looking forward to the day they stood before the altar, they grinned at one another. They’d done the unthinkable, found happiness, had a home to call their own, bore a child, and they’d only been together for shortly over a year. Though neither could say what the future held, they knew a lifetime of contentment awaited them, hand in hand…