A Passionate Paramour of Pastry
Confections and Creampies
Of all the mares, of all the ponies, of all the denizens of Equestria, there was one which had caught and held Anon’s eye since his arrival in Equestria. Mrs. Cake was a profoundly captivating creature; delectably plump, kindly to a fault, and extraordinarily motherly, she was everything he could have ever dreamed of in a woman. She’d given him a job, allowed him to stay in a spare bedroom of theirs, and she was the first pony he’d met.
He still wasn’t sure how he’d wound up in Equestria, although that seemed like a triviality. His life on Earth had been an unremarkable one. Most of his friends had moved off after high school, he’d taken a part time job for the summer, and his parents really didn’t pay him much mind. It wasn’t like his things had been terrible, yet he’d fallen into a torpor from which there was no conceivable escape.
After another normal day of bagging items and tending to customers, he’d returned home, showered, and dozed off while reading comics in bed. The next thing he knew, he’d awoken in a grassy field outside of a town he came to know as Ponyville. Wandering into the village, just as the sun crested over the horizon, he met her.
Short and stout, with her head only reaching his midsection, she probably noticed the bewildered expression on his face. Ever since she trotted over and introduced herself, she’d been his shepherd in the strange new land. She vouched for him with the Princesses and did her best to address any concerns or questions he’d had. He wasn’t surprised that he found himself growing quite fond of her, even if she wasn’t a typical mare.
He was quick to find out, there were three distinct sexes amongst the ponies of the world. There were mares, stallions, and the slightly more uncommon dickmares. For all intents and purposes, the somewhat elusive third group were female, although they were as or more endowed than their male counterparts; Mrs. Cake was one such creature and, frankly, it only added to her appeal.
Back on Earth, he’d read material and seen illustrations of fanciful beings called futas, but he could have never imagined they could actually exist - then again, he wasn’t on Earth anymore. Equestria was different in many ways, amongst which being the fact that the residents rarely wore anything whatsoever. Trotting around in the buff, allowing anyone and everyone to see their naked bodies, there was nothing overtly salacious about their nudity.
To his amazement, it didn’t take him long to acclimate to the naked truth of things, yet he couldn’t help himself from steeling the occasional glimpse here or there. Having always had a fondness for older, curvaceous women, it came as no surprise that he found himself surreptitiously eyeing his host turned employer. It really didn’t help that she was, as far as he could tell, exceedingly well equipped.
Since Mr. and Mrs. Cake had a pair of foals, Anon was left to presume they’d gone to a surrogate mother, but they each loved their offspring. While he couldn’t definitively say who had sired the pair, he guessed it was their mother. Both of the wee babs bore a striking resemblance to their studly mama, and Pumpkin was a dickmare herself, so it made sense. Regardless, though they seemed to be a relatively happy family, Anon couldn’t help but wonder if he could improve things.
Working in the bakery and helping around the house was all well and good, but over his months of living with the Cakes he noticed that Mr. Cake almost seemed to neglect his wife. The stallion never mistreated Mrs. Cake, not in the slightest, although there were perilously few displays of affection or romance - sure, some of that could be chocked up to a lengthy marriage, their age, or having to juggle two kids, yet that was no excuse for ignoring such a gorgeous and good-natured mare.
If Anon had been with Mrs. Cake, he would have gleefully fawned over her morning, noon, and night. A mare of her caliber deserved a lover who would satisfy her on a whim and he honestly wasn’t sure Mr. Cake had been fully appreciating her or tending to all her needs. Although he realized his chances of ever getting the chance to worship her were slim, he had taken note of a few very interesting things about her.
For starters, she’d always seemed to have a particular fondness for svelte, particularly bottom-heavy stallions. She was always especially friendly towards their slender male customers and he’d caught her ogling their behinds on several occasions. It made sense, in a way, considering her husband was relatively lanky himself. The observations in and of themselves weren’t didn’t mean much, were it not for one detail - he had a rather generous backside himself.
Before he had come to Equestria, especially when he’d been in school, he routinely got picked on for having a bit of a bubble butt. Though it had never garnered him much positive attention among his classmates, he’d busted his boss peeking at it a handful of times - it could have been a coincidence, of course, but it was enough to give him an idea. With her husband going off for a baking competition, leaving her to tend to the shop and their children, he had the perfect opportunity to test his theory.
If Mrs. Cake really did have an eye on his backside, he’d soon know for certain. While he didn’t earn heaps of money at his job, he’d made enough to buy a few custom articles from the Carousel Boutique. Though he’d initially been a bit embarrassed to ask Ms. Rarity for the somewhat questionable garments, she dismissed his concerns with genuine confusion.
Apparently it wasn’t too uncommon for stallions to dress as mares or visa-versa - as such, she happily accepted his commission and even gave him a few suggestions. Within a scant few days, he was the proud owner of several very effeminate outfits, including various negligee and lingerie. He wouldn’t have dared try on such clothing back in his homeland, due to the stigma of such a thing, but that was no longer a factor.
When the day of Mr. Cake’s departure came, he put his scheme into action. Thankfully, he’d gotten a bit of luck from an unexpected source. Pinkie Pie had volunteered to tend to Pumpkin and Pound throughout the working days. It didn’t take much convincing to talk the pink party pony into bringing the tykes to the playground or the School of Friendship, ensuring he’d be alone with Mrs. Cake for hours on end.
Once the fateful morning finally arrived, after donning a pair of painfully short boyshorts, an electric blue thong, and a snug t-shirt, he scampered downstairs before the bakery opened. It wasn’t like he had to be up at such an early hour, but he wanted to start the day on the right foot - as such, he made sure to have a pot of coffee brewing for his host. Even if he didn’t end up tempting her into something sinful, he wanted to make the best of his time with her.
Going through his paces, Anon flitted through the back of the shop. Even though they weren’t going to open for several hours, that didn’t mean there wasn’t plenty to do! Setting the ovens to warm, checking the orders for the day, and doing a quick inventory of the bulk ingredients, he set himself to task with uncharacteristic vigor. He barely noticed the sound of hooffalls, until they were directly behind him.
“You’re up early!” Pinkie exclaimed, causing him to glance over at her.
Peering back at the energetic mare, he turned and wiped his brow. “Morning, Pinkie. You coming to pick up the kids?”
Nodding vigorously, Pinkie beamed up at the man. “Uh-huh! Cheese Sandwich and I are going to bring them to a fair in Canterlot for two days!” she explained. “Guess you and Mrs. Cake will have the house all to yourselves for the next day or so!”
Anon couldn’t help but smile. The news that he’d be completely alone with Mrs. Cake, while unexpected, was a tremendous windfall and only served to steel his resolve. “Don’t worry, I think we’ll be too busy running the bakery to worry about much of anything. Thanks for the heads up, Pinkie!”
“No problem! I just hope she doesn’t get lonely without Mr. Cake or the foals around,” the pink mare remarked, her grin faltering.
Squatting down, he brought his face to hers, reached out, and tousled her frizzy mane. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to entertain her.”
“I know you will. Anyways, I’m gonna go upstairs to get Pound and Pumpkin,” Pinkie merrily stated, regaining some of her exuberance. Turning and hopping away, she moved towards the front of the shop.
As much as he would have liked to follow her, Anon had hit duties to attend to. After getting a batch of bread dough mixing, he began placing and arranging items in the display rack. Running the bakery was tedious enough with three employees, so having only himself and Mrs. Cake to handle everything meant they honestly would be engaged before, throughout, and even shortly after business hours.
Sure enough, after a handful of minutes, Pinkie Pie returned with the twins in tow. Each was old enough to fully appreciate their impending trip and, judging from their excited demeanor, each was more than happy to go with their adopted big sister. Once he’d waved goodbye to the little tykes and their chaperone, he was soon joined by their mother.
Adorned in her signature apron, as resplendent as ever, Mrs. Cake saw herself into the kitchen and to the man’s side. The knowledge that they’d be understaffed must have been weighing on her, because she bore a slightly flustered expression - nonetheless, she smiled over at him. “I hope you’re ready for a busy day!”
Anon nodded and grinned. Despite knowing they’d likely be occupied throughout their shift, he wasn’t bothered. Simply being around her was enough to brighten his spirits and lighten the imposing workload ahead of him. Hefting a tray of rolls into the proofer, he moved towards the mixing bowl and his next assignment.
As he’d expected, the day was indeed a busy one and the hours flew by. Before he knew it, the afternoon rush was over and the evening was upon them. With all of the baking done and the customers tended to, the pair wearily started closing up shop. Storing certain goods for the night, tidying up, and verifying they had the necessary supplies for upcoming orders, they made short work of wrapping up.
“Anon, I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know what I’d do without having you here,” Mrs. Cake sighed, trotting towards the door.
“It’s the least I can do, really, don’t worry about it,” he contentedly hummed, flipping the storefront sight from Open to Closed. “You want me to make something for us to eat?”
“Well, since you asked, I wouldn’t say no,” she admitted, picking up a tray of cupcakes from beside the exit. “I’ve just got to drop these off at the town hall, but I won’t be too long.”
“Be safe,” he asked, opening the door for her. “Any particular requests for our meal?”
“As long as I’m not cooking it for once, I’ll be happy with anything,” she snickered. Proceeding outside, with the sweets balanced on one forehoof, she grinned back at him. “Be back in a jiffy!”
As she strolled outside, on her way to make their final delivery, Anon turned and moved upstairs. Normally he would have been quite content to accompany Mrs. Cake on her trip, although having the house to themselves afforded him a golden opportunity. Running into his room, he gathered up a few articles and scampered off to the bathroom. He didn’t have long before she returned, so he’d have to move fast.
With a change of clothes in hand, he dashed into the lavatory. While his thong had gone unnoticed or ignored, he wasn’t about to throw in the towel. After thoroughly cleaning himself, inside and out, he got dressed and sauntered towards the kitchen. If the attire he’d selected didn’t get some sort of response from her, nothing would.
Gathering a few ingredients from the fridge, he got to work making them something to eat. He knew for a fact that Mrs. Cake adored veggie burgers and sweet potato fries, so he felt certain that she’d be pleased with his choice of meal. As he formed the patties and set them into a frying pan on the range, he heard a steady creek from the stairs.
A curious mix of excitement and trepidation surged through him, while he awaited his host’s appearance. Adorned in a lacey white thong, matching leggings, garter belt, and a ruffle tube top, he could have easily passed for a slatternly housewife. Although he was keenly aware of the risks involved, realizing that there was a possibility that he’d be left feeling foolish, he figured it was worth the gamble.
Forcing himself to act naturally, while he buttered a pair of buns for their dinner, his heart thumped in his chest. Part of him screamed at him to flee, to bolt back to his room before she could see him, but it was too late to turn back. When the steady clip-clop of hooves behind him came to a halt, he peeked over his shoulder.
Standing in the doorway of the kitchen, with her mouth agape, was Mrs. Cake. Her shocked expression was hard to read, but it was painfully obvious that she had not been expecting to walk in on such a scandalous scene. As her eyes played across his barely concealed frame, over his behind and up his back, they eventually came to settle on his blushing face.
Frozen in place, leaned slightly over the counter, he peered over at her. It was only when her gaze drifted lower, back to his rear, did he feel the slightest bit of tension ease. Taking the opportunity, with her attention away from his face, he peeked at her groin. His eyes went wide, as he noticed a cobalt length steadily appear beneath her.
Unlike her cerulean coat, Mrs. Cake’s equipment was a far darker shade of blue. Entranced, watching the thick, vascular shaft emerge from between her supple thighs, his mouth started to water - that was, until the sound of a clearing throat cut through the air and wrenched his attention from her dangling stallionhood. Glancing to her face, their eyes met.
“What are you wearing?” she flatly asked, regaining her composure.
“I...it’s - uh…” Anon stammered, fumbling with the simple question. “Rarity made it for me. I wanted something kind of sexy to try on, since I never really got to do this sort of thing back home…”
The admission, only a half-truth, seemed to placate his host. Mrs. Cake smiled sheepishly and looked away, while her cheeks went rosy. “Well I think it l...looks quite fetching on you, although I’m not sure wearing such a thing around the house is very appropriate.”
Choosing his words carefully, he took a metered breath and turned to face her. “Well, to be honest, there is another reason for all this.”
“Oh?” she chirped, piquing an eyebrow. “And what reason would that be?”
“With as long as I’ve been here, I wouldn’t mind finding a marefriend for myself,” he sighed.
“Deary, if you went out like that, you’d be having all sorts of stallions and mares flinging themselves at you,” she giggled, dismissively waving a hoof in his direction.
“It’s not like I’d wear it out to meet ponies, but I wouldn’t mind finding one who appreciates something like this - you know, in private,” Anon clarified.
Knitting her brow, Mrs. Cake thoughtfully rubbed her chin. “Exactly what sort of pony are you looking for? If you’re trying to find a date, I may know somepony in Ponyville who fits the bill.”
Fighting back a smirk, he walked over and began counting off on his fingers. “Ideally, she’d be an older mare. There’s nothing wrong with ponies my age, but I’ve never been all that energetic - heck, I’d be happy to just relax with my special somepony. Secondly, I’d prefer a dickmare. Not like I have anything against stallions or mares, but something about a hung girl just…” he trailed off, seeing where she was looking.
Peering down at his crotch, where Mrs. Cake’s eyes were glued, he gulped. At some point or another, either when he’d seen her flaccid cock or when he’d been imagining his ideal marefriend, he’d gotten a bit worked up. His prick, encased within the confines of his panties, was a dead giveaway of how excited he’d gotten, though his concern was immediately derailed by the sound of a meaty Thwack.
It only took him a second to hone in on the source of the noise. Gazing to the mare’s groin, where her fully engorged stallionhood hung beneath her, he balled his fists. He could have stared at that glorious, meaty pillar for ages, yet he had other plans. He’d thought of all the different things he could say to her, should he ever find himself in such a situation, and he was not going to lose his one chance.
Stepping forward, bringing his hands together over his chest, he swallowed. “I’d really like to find a mare like you.”
“A...and have you ever been with a mare like me?” she countered, still staring at his barely concealed package.
“No…” he muttered, inching closer to her and sinking to his knees, “but maybe you could help me with that…”
Her eyes sailed to his face, before she stepped aside and slowly wheeled around. She trotted from the kitchen and out of view, without saying a word, leaving Anon to his lonesome. Kneeling there, in the silent, vacant room, a crushing weight settled upon him. A thousand questions assailed him, coupled with the crushing guilt that he’d overstepped his bounds, yet something miraculous happened.
“I’ll be in my room, if you really want a lesson,” Mrs. Cake called out.
He practically bolted to his feet, with his dread being instantaneously replaced by an exhilaration like he had never known. Jogging after her, grinning like an idiot, he only slowed once he’d passed through the living room. He had no way of knowing exactly what fate awaited him, although her erection left little room to doubt that that part of her was interested. Creeping towards her chamber, with his heart fluttering in his chest, he peeked into the room.
Perched on the end of the bed, with her hind legs dangling over the edge, she beckoned him towards herself. When he paused, she smiled and shook her head. “First of all, if you’re hoping to bag a dickmare, you need to be a bit more assertive; not all of us like to make the first move, just so you know, and showing a bit of initiative can never hurt.”
Stepping into the chamber, Anon rubbed the back of his neck. The nonchalant shift, while a pleasant surprise, did raise one question. “So you’re ok with all this?”
“Of course, Sweetheart. For goodness sake, it’s not like Carrot and I haven’t done our fair bit of swinging before. Frankly, it’s been years since I’ve had a somepony as young as you show an interest in me! Now come here and stop dawdling,” she giggled.
Doing as asked, he walked over and faced her. Try as he might, he was unable to keep slipping glances at her towering stallionhoodhood. Though he’d seen it in passing before, it was the first time he’d gotten such an unabashed look at her package. Unsure of how to proceed, more than happy to submit to her direction, he waited.
“It won’t bite, I promise! Since this is your first time, feel free to get down there and explore a bit,” she cheerfully remarked, flexing her pelvic muscles and causing her length to bob.
Nodding to himself, Anon stepped between her legs and sank into a deep squat. Up close, her equipment was more impressive than ever. Replete with a pair of pendulous nuts, her endowment could easily put most males to shame - even the larger ones! Easily as long as his forearm and thicker than his wrist, the stallionhood was by far the biggest dick he’d ever laid eyes on - still, that wasn’t the only jaw-dropping feature about it.
Her balls lay draped over the foot of the mattress, just below her turgid cock. Each ripe orb was roughly the size of a small grapefruit, leaving him to wonder just how productive she could be. It was only when he drew a breath did the aroma of her unwashed body hit him. The smell - sweet Celestia, the musk was downright heavenly. Reaching out with trembling hands, his fingers graced her velvety shaft.
“Go ahead, get to know her,” she murmured, sweetly stroking his hair. “I can be patient for a little bit.”
Though he’d assumed it alright to proceed, hearing her give her blessing flicked a switch within him. Leaning in, he gently buried his nose in the area between her tool and nuts. Feeling her soft skin against his face, something broke. Without so much as thinking, he licked and lavished the sweat from her loins.
“There’s a good mare,” she sighed, affectionately patting his head. “You don’t mind if I call you that, do you? It might be silly, but it’s kind of a thing of -”
“Mmmmn Mmmmn,” he hummed, unwilling to remove himself from her to respond properly. If she wanted to call him a mare, he couldn’t care less. For all intents and purposes, especially considering what he hoped to do with her, he was her mare.
Reclining back and resting on her forehooves, she peered down her belly at him. Glancing upward, past the stallionhood draped over his face, he locked eyes with her. Being watched was hotter than he’d expected, spurring him onward. Shuffling back, he clutched the base of her tool and angled it towards his face. Dragging his tongue over the blunted tip and giving it a little kiss, he opened his mouth and slipped her past his pouting lips.
Bobbing his head, doing what he could to work her into his maw, he realized all too soon that the daunting task would be next to impossible. Though her stallionhood was markedly more pliable than a human cock, the sheer girth of it made it nearly impossible to tackle - at least, with his lack of experience. Not only was it the first time he’d sucked a dick, but he’d flung himself into the deep end of the pool. His foolish hubris had finally caught up with him, as he stifled a gag.
“Just take your time and mind the teeth,” Mrs. Cake cooed, as caring as ever. “Even if we can’t do more than this, I’m still happy that you thought an old, stout mare like myself was attractive.”
Rearing back, the broad head of horse meat leapt out of his mouth. “Don’t say that,” he softly admonished, tenderly stroking her length, “you’re one of the most beautiful mares I’ve ever seen - besides, even though I might not be able to give the best blowjob, that doesn’t mean we can’t try other stuff…”
Pushing herself up, her eyes went alight. “You mean you…”
With a single nod, Anon got to his feet. Though his skills with fellatio weren’t up to snuff, his backside may be up to the job. When he’d been back on Earth, he’d often get himself off with the help of a dildo or two - riding the silicone toys while imagining some busty dickgirl railing him out. Though he’d lost his small treasure trove of dongs, he was happy to discover that the residents of Equestria manufactured similar playthings.
Several months back, after saving up a bit of cash, he’d purchased a few dildos from a local shop. The fact that the toys were all modeled after pony cocks was the best part, since his fantasies often revolved around horse-hung lovers. Admittedly, even with all the practice he had, he hadn’t handled something as large as Mrs. Cake, but he felt certain that his determination would leave him victorious. He’d made sure to prepare for such an event, having furiously worked his hole the night prior, so he was as ready as he’d ever be - well, almost.
“Do you have any lube?” he inquired, looking around the room.
Hopping from the bed and cantering to her dresser, Mrs. Cake rummaged around in one of her drawers. By the time she looked back, her young guest had crawled onto the bed. Positioned on all fours, roughly in the center of the mattress, he arched his back and lowered his chest to the blankets. Outstretching an arm and grabbing for a pillow with one hand, he reached back and pulled his thong aside.
“J...just be gentle,” he sighed.
Resting his head on the cushion, he prized his buns apart. Though he would have been comfortable riding her in a cowgirl position, he trusted her enough to give her control - that and he’d always dreamt of being mounted from behind. The mattress creaked slightly, as the mare clambered up onto the bed behind him. Feeling the cool sensation of something slick dripping onto the cleft of his ass, he knew there was no turning back.
Mrs. Cake shifted, rearing onto her hind legs and grasping his hips with her forehooves. With an expertise gleaned from decades of experience, she nudged his pucker with the battering ram-like tip of her dick. “Are you ready?”
Anon nodded, doing his damnedest to stay relaxed. Spreading his legs and digging his elbows into the bed, he did what he could to brace himself. The pressure on his entrance gradually mounted, causing him to wince. It almost felt like a fist was being jammed against his ass, yet he was undeterred. Finally, after what felt like a small eternity, she popped into him.
“Breath, Honey. Just breath and don’t clench,” she whispered.
As she affectionately caressed his lower back, he slowly acclimated to the immense intrusion. Besides her size, the warmth of her stallionhood was astonishing. Inspired, having overcome her exceptionally fat glans, he rocked back towards her. Either through a supreme show of self-control or patience, she stood still and allowed him to get warmed up.
Seconds dragged by, while he steadily worked the first few inches into himself. Even without seeing how much progress he’d made, he knew it couldn’t be much; with as big as she was, he figured he hadn’t even made it half-way down her shaft. Lifting his head and looking back at her, he gnawed his lip.
“Don’t worry,” she began, pressing her hips forward, “I’ll take it slow.”
Unlike with his pitiable efforts, Mrs. Cake cautiously sank into him with immutable force. The sensation of her stallionhood boring into him was intense, but there was next to no discomfort. Having likely broken in any number of stallions or mares, she knew exactly what to do. Draping herself over his back, driving inch after inch into his snug confines, she rested her head against him.
“You’re such a beautiful mare - did you know that?” she purred, delving deeper and deeper.
A shiver of delight ran through him, as he wriggled beneath her. In her embrace, feeling his depths contorting around her, he very much felt like her mare. Gingerly thrusting her hips, her progress eventually came to a standstill. As what could only be her girthy medial ring bumped against his stuffed opening, he pushed himself back. He wanted - no, he needed to feel all of her.
“Please,” he breathed, reaching back to paw at her flank.
Grinding her hips forward, while he steadfastly held himself steady, the thick root of her shaft wormed into his backside. As the thick band of flesh ground against his prostate, a hushed whimper escaped him. Despite having stimulated the delicate organ innumerable times, nothing could have prepared him for the experience of having someone else do it for him.
Emboldened by having nearly hilted her, he started rocking his body forward and back. Feeling her on his back, smelling her delicate scent, having the lingering flavor of her on his tongue, hearing the sound of her breathing - in a very real sense, she was a feast for the senses. Sensing his enthusiasm, or perhaps ready to pick up the pace herself, the hefty dickmare began to reciprocate.
Standing in stark contrast to her sunny and matronly disposition, there was no denying the raw strength the earth pony held. Locking her forelegs over his hips, digging her hooves into his ample thighs, she gradually moved faster. Though her plunges weren’t too terribly deep, he was rocked to the core. Every thrust sent her medial ring gliding over his tender p-spot, forcing pre-cum from his untouched manhood.
It was funny - all throughout the ordeal, he hadn’t once thought about touching himself. When left to his own devices, while wantonly fucking himself with a dildo, he would always jack himself off, but this was different. The sensory overload of being with somebody, let alone a mare he’d yearned for, was more than enough to bring him untold bliss.
As the minutes seemingly sailed by, the two moved with increasing force. With every plunge, her waist drove his body forward, yet it only stoked the flames of his passion. Meeting every ounce of her zeal, he forced his body back to meet her. It wasn’t long before her pendulous nuts were swinging forward to impact his seemingly insignificant coin purse, adding yet another fantastic element to the experience.
With his equipment safely trapped within the satiny confines of his panties, sensing himself nearing his limit, he pushed himself up and arched his back. Although he’d never been fortunate enough to have a hands-free orgasm before, some part of him knew Mrs. Cake would be the one to deliver such a wondrous conclusion to the experience. Peeking back, as he fervently moved in time with his paramour, he asked for the one thing he’d always wished for her to do.
“Breed me,” he croaked, gazing at her sweat-streaked face.
In a flash, the mare ground to a halt, stepped back, and hauled her considerable length from his abused behind. The sudden withdrawal of her glorious stallionhood left him feeling empty, in more ways than one, and sent ice coursing through his veins. As she stepped aside, giving him some room, she waved her hoof.
“I want to see that pretty face of yours,” she huffed, while her cock slapped against her belly.
With all the self-restraint of a lusty teenager, Anon flopped down and rolled onto his back. As he lifted and spread his legs, eager to continue, he noticed her fetching the discarded bottle from beside herself. He hadn’t even thought about using more lube, reminding him of just how much expertise his quadrupedal partner had.
“Could you jam a few pillows under your butt? Trust me, it’ll make the experience even better for both of us,” she intoned, slathering her throbbing tool in the slick gel.
Snatching up three of the cushions, including the one he’d been resting his head on, Anon acquiesced. Having his tush elevated in such a way was a bit funny, but he trusted her implicitly. Staring down his chest at her, he lifted and spread his legs.
“There’s a good mare,” she cooed, trotting between his thighs.
Clamping his ankles around her back, Anon presented himself as best he could. With practiced precision, she slipped back into him. The radiant heat of her stallionhood permeated through him, warming him from the inside out and dousing the inferno of his desires with fuel. More than wanting release, he yearned to be the mate that Mrs. Cake so rightly deserved.
Unlike before, when she’d given him plenty of time to warm up, she wasted no time in rutting him properly. Like the glorious she-stud that she was, the dickmare moved with a determined, almost needy rhythm. While she’d always been loving to a fault, her physical urges seemed to have taken hold. With her forehooves to either side of his head, she vehemently pounded into his rump.
The change of positioning was staggering, leading to her stallionhood jackhammering his prostate, though that wasn’t the best part. Looking up and being able to see her gorgeous face was the most breathtaking facet of his placement. Wrapping his arms around her, he craned his neck upwards and pressed his lips to hers.
Making out, with their bodies entwined, each was pushed to their limit. It almost felt as if a fuse had been lit within him, causing his legs to tremble and toes to curl. Mrs. Cake seemed little better off, as her steady thrusts devolved into frantic, almost chaotic pounding. Feeling an odd sensation within his belly, he freed one hand and caressed his abdomen - it was only then that he felt her starting to flare.
Compelled, driven by the muse or sheer dumb luck, he broke their kiss and brought his face to her ear. “Breed me.”
Upon hearing his words, Mrs. Cake did just that. Gritting her teeth, huffing fiercely, she hilted within him and bit down on his collar. The twinge of pain, coupled with a sublime heat flooding through his depths, sent him sailing over the edge. Quaking from head to toe, holding onto her for dear life, he was wracked with the most mind-bending climax of his life.
His manhood weakly spurted and dribbled within his thong, smearing his groin with spunk, yet that didn’t hold a candle to the tidal onrush of seed surging through his innards. What felt like pints of searing foal-batter coursed into him, filling every nook and cranny of his insides and marking him in a way that no other had. It was all he could do to scream out, braying to the heavens like the claimed mare that he was.
The blinding ecstasy eclipsed his world, leaving him in a hazy, semi-conscious state. He couldn’t tell how long they stayed locked together, yet he became vaguely aware of Mrs. Cake shifting above him. Her forelegs wrapped around his torso, while she pressed her chest to his. Before he knew it, she’d rolled to her back and hauled him along with herself.
As she affectionately kissed his cheek, he wearily looked at her. He could still feel her stallionhood buried in his ass, although it seemed to have softened to a degree. Smiling, awash in the post-coitus happiness of a splendid lovemaking session, he nuzzled his face against her neck.
While he couldn’t quite see the effects of their romp, he could sure as heck feel them. His belly, swollen with piping hot jizz, gurgled angrily at the monumentally prolific influx. Thoroughly stuffed and only leaking a fraction of the creamy load within him, his pucker embraced to Mrs. Cake’s length like a star-crossed paramour. Even if humans weren’t designed to bed such magnificent creatures, he didn’t have a single shred of regret - no, if anything, he was happier than he’d ever been.
“Have fun?” she softly inquired, running one hoof along his back.
“Mmm-hmm,” he nodded, peeking to her face. “You?”
“I haven’t cum that hard in ages,” she tiredly laughed, causing him to jostle atop her, “so take that as you will.”
Positively beaming, he hugged her and basked in her warmth. If he was sore and walking funny for a few days, it would be a small price to pay for accomplishing something few, if any, humans had. He’d bedded an absolutely enchanting, beautiful, lovely creature who he respected and admired, leaving him with only one thing on his mind - if she really was pleased with his performance, maybe she’d be up for another round…
