Author's Note
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Apple-Bottomed
"Think it's just past this bend, now..."
Applejack was quite knowledge about places outside of Sweet Apple Acres, regardless of how often Rainbow Dash had laughed herself hoarse thinking otherwise. The Everfree Forest, especially, was a place that the farm-pony always appreciated when she needed to clear her head. Despite how the lack of elegant company here made Rarity bristle (thinking out loud to Applejack over cider, of course), the cricket-complemented silence of Applejack's trek was very welcome.
After all, it wasn’t often that Applejack had a problem to mull over that she couldn't turn to her friends or family with. But with them all unavailable today for myriad reasons, it was unavoidable. Plus, Mac was being an extra helping of unbearable today, with his refusal to stop calling Applejack 'Applebottom' until she let a hoof to his crotch dissuade him from that nickname.
Now, Applejack's thoughts could drift undisturbed.
At least, in pacing.
But with every crunch of the undergrowth, every humidity-fighting breath, Applejack only found more questions to ponder.
She didn’t… really remember that much about how Zecora looked way back then, to be honest. But it was clear that the zebra shamaness was wise beyond her years. Behind Zecora’s rhymes and her mohawk sat a mind with answers to an issue Applejack and her friends barely knew were issues. Applejack only wished she’d seen it sooner.
Alas, her eyes had been boring through herself for too long.
Suck in another humid breath, Applejack continued on past the trees. Thankfully it wouldn’t be far now; her navigation wasn’t spotty, and she’d trodden this way with Apple Bloom before. Only her hooves groused in protest over how thin this passage was, bumping and slipping over moisture-damp roots.
‘How the heck did my sis ever get through this without chipping an… everything?’ she mused.
Eventually, Applejack found what she was looking for. In an endless array of trees, finally, the one with tin chimneys and a thatched door appeared. Rarity had called it a ‘hut’ the last time they’d laid eyes open it, but with fresh eyes, Applejack saw the careful, measured work that went into hewing out this home. The door was carved—both in the edges and around its porthole—with divine care, the curling designs a marvel to behold. Even the wisps of smoke piping from the chimneys drifted invitingly, as if from a mug of hot chocolate.
Of course, the well-tread path to that house already hinted more than Applejack had taken a visit to this mysterious zebra.
And Applejack knew why, as part of the only good deed her ass-grabbing brother had done for today.
Slowly, she unpeeled the poster balled in one of her hands, her eyes scanning bemusedly over its promotion.
If your back muscles are in the stress
See Zecora - she’ll take them out with one press!
Massage/revitalizing sessions every weekend, 12:00 - 4:00 or by appointment
Visit here or La Ti Da Spa now and get a 20% bit discount for other
Applejack stuffed the paper into her jeans pocket. So, Zecora became quite the hidden gem of Ponyville, huh? And not even Apple Bloom had appraised her of this? Time to find out herself, then.
Within seconds, Applejack’s hand rapped lightly upon that oaken beauty of a door.
She didn’t know what she expected to see beyond that timber threshold. Maybe she didn’t expect anyone, with her luck being as shoddy as it was lately. But if there was, one look upon Applejack's fit body and she was sure that any hostile threat wouldn't last long, should any exist.
But what Applejack saw was a paradox so overwhelming that her eyebrows shot into her mane-line.
Or rather, it was what Applejack couldn’t see anything but that blew her mind; a tower of rippling, black-and-white-striped muscle that filled the frame of the open door. Bare triangles of black leather kept that from being a full-frontal show, as the curious face over those breasts dipped down to lock eyes with Applejack.
One thing was clear in the Element of Honesty's short-circuiting brain; Zecora, body-wise, had become a goddess among gallopers.
“My deepest regrets, I did not expect company. Please, allow m-oh, Applejack, how lovely!” Zecora’s rich tone made Applejack’s ears perk as she was studied by the titanic zebra. “So my new student’s sister has returned to my doors. Come in, have a seat; what’s mine is now yours.”
Applejack nearly stumbled into the doorframe as she got in, unable to rip her eyes away from the marble-carved figure before her. Just how much had the Element of Honesty’s eyes deceived her the last time she and Zecora met? She was certain, even after being un-shrunk from the Poison Joke’s effects, that Zecora only had a head on her then. She had even wondered if she shouldn’t start training with Zecora sometime, her abs and biceps like steel against the jelly-soft curves of the shamaness.
Now?
Now, Applejack wondered if she could hide Big Mac behind Zecora’s hulking yet hourglassed frame. Even as she snapped the door shut, Zecora’s ass twitched into a perfect heart shape like she was in a kiln. For Applejack, the heat was all too real now; she felt a wave of sweat break-out on her fur just looking at those barely concealed globes of zebrameat.
And what the shamaness offered upfront as she turned to face Applejack left the farm-mare’s mouth drier than a Saddle Arabian desert. Zecora’s rack was generously stacked, and Applejack didn’t mean the cabinets behind her. Just the perfect size to match her entire head. Just the perfect amount of muscle beside them to make them jiggle hypnotically. Just the right amount of work-spawned sweat on them to make them glitter like opal-
“-Applejack? You’re so pale; has the heat gotten to you? I can crack open windows; make some iced tea too?”
Applejack snapped back to reality, almost tipping over the chair she clambered into. “Um… no need!” Her mind scrambled for answers like crazy—until she remembered why milk collecting had been such a long slog for her this morning. “Ah just have this twinge in my back. Nothin’ a few minutes in this… whoa…”
Applejack scooched further into the pudding-like leather of the chair she was in. More surprises on Zecora’s end; her furniture back then was absolutely bare-bones, just stools and jumbled wooden tables. Even the bed-spread that Zecora was walking her mouthwatering rump around was metal-like, with bejeweled claws for feet. And the chair felt like a honeyed bath with how it melted around her fatigued limbs.
“It seems this seat leather’s left you lost for words,” Zecora said. “Feels better than sex, yes?” A coy grin spread on Zecora’s face. “At least, so I’ve heard.”
Applejack’s eyebrows rose in astonishment. “You mean… you’ve had others here?” Then her mind smacked itself over her oversight. “Oh. Right. Part-time massage spot, yes?”
“Indeed. It’s a living - one best spent with peers…” Zecora’s voice washed over Applejack, making the farm-mare's eyelashes heavy. “Especially when they were once ruled by their fears. But it seems that a tender hand soothes any soul.” Applejack only faintly heard the wheeze of compressed leather as Zecora leaned her massive frame on it. “And if you know where to poke…”
Applejack, on the verge of nodding off, suddenly had the fatigue knocked from her by a pair of deft fingers walking on her shoulder. Following it—and the trail of sinewy stripes—up to the shamaness looming over her, Applejack gulped thickly.
“...it’s a key to all holes.” Was that a tantalizing hitch in Zecora's voice? Surely not!
Applejack didn’t respond immediately, finding herself lost in both Zecora’s voice and her abs. It was only when that scrumptious sight flashed away to be replaced by the glint in Zecora’s earrings and neckbands that Applejack found her way back to sanity’s shores. “Well… well, it seems you’ve done a lot for yourself. Ah’m… real impressed.”
“That warms my heart, friend: more than any stove’s range.” Like the one that was currently housing a boiling kettle that Zecora trotted to. “But first, a draught; we’ll soon be on the same page.”
The smell of mint and honey was soon all that Applejack could comprehend as she accepted the steaming cup Zecora handed her. Past the trails of steam as Applejack nursed her drink, she soon found herself drinking more of Zecora as she reclined on the sofa.
“Shoot, Zecora…” asked Applejack, “Just what happened to you?”
“Oh, all this?” And Zecora slid a finger down her twitching abs. “It’s all part of my list.”
“L…list?”
This time, Zecora brought out a photo of herself from before - such a scrawny though tall photo next to the titan pointing at feature after feature on it. “My mind. My mammaries. My foal-rearing hips. My undersized breasts and my always-chapped lips.” A worrying line set across Zecora’s mouth at this. “My hermit-like traits. My reliance on tricks. All things I sought to change when I first met you six.”
“Wait… this was all because of our last meeting?” Applejack spluttered. Now she was unsure how this was Zecora’s burden to move past.“But we were part of the ones we were the ones who came off all wrong about you.”
“You were suffering. Infected. And I had done little to allay those fears; I just shrank back and fiddled.” Zecora then leaned forward, rolling her building shoulders and cooing at the kinks she worked out of her powerful frame. “So when you made amends, I made myself a vow. To be someone Ponyville could look up to—”
“...and how,” Applejack breathed. “Musta been some serious training.”
Zecora shrugged. “Bulk helped keep me going; at least, at the start. But I think my fast progress was too much for his heart. We left on good terms, still; I had much on my mind; like if I could work to help others unwind?”
“... Hence, that massage spa idea. Surprised Mac ain’t swung by for a session yet.”
“Strange story about him. He seemed eager to motion when I mailed him an offer to help me test my potions.” Zecora said. “Then he showed up the next day, took one look at my spread, looked at himself, and bolted; was it something I said?”
Applejack laughed at that; she was confident she knew the answer to Zecora’s inquiry this time.
“Prolly more like something you are: the only being in Ponyville who’d crush his Little Mac in one squat.”
“Oh, does he have children?” Zecora asked. “Strange, all our talks and those were never mentioned. Perhaps that’s why he left; not being with them must be like detention.”
Applejack’s jaw jutted up and down, unsure if she should mention to Zecora just what that ‘Little Mac’ name was referring to. “Nevermind. Ah was just… well, the reason I came was that I thought Apple Bloom was here.”
Zecora shook her dead. “She is with her friends; not for lack of trying, it seems. But this is my personal day; I left her to her other dreams.”
Applejack downed another swig of her drink. So Apple Bloom was with her fellow Crusaders. That was that settled. Still… “Then… maybe ya could spare a session for me too, before Ah head back to the farm?”
“No play and all work once more?” Zecora slowly rose from her seat, curiously tilting her eye to better analyze Applejack. “It seems you’re way too taxed for those chores.”
The farmmare bristled. Her fur was starting to get a bit poofy under that penetrating gaze; she needed to say something before she got swallowed up by those pools of refreshing azure. “Y-yeah. But… Ah’ve got a big day of milk deliveries tomorrow anyhow. So…”
Now Zecora’s eyes were alight with an unshakable inquiry. “That I highly doubt. Tell your auntie Zecora what this is truly about.”
Applejack bit her lip, certain she was never calling Zecora by that name. Then she looked at those midnight eyes of the zebra before her. Okay… almost never going to call Zecora that name. “I-it’s nothing, Ah swear! An-and why do you even think Ah’d lie about something as important as milk-”
Zecora silently jabbed a finger at one of her open windows. Applejack paled upon seeing the undoer of her hilariously flimsy fib; a half-full bottle of milk, stamped with a sticker of her cutie mark.
“...oh.” Applejack’s ears drooped shamefully. “Apple Bloom musta…”
“Just before she left with Belle.” Zecora waved it off. “Now-don’t you have some stories to tell?”
Applejack sighed wearily. It was confession time, wasn’t it? Well, at least the drink would keep her shuddering nerves soothed. “Well… Ah can’t believe Ah’m sayin’ this but… Ah think y'might have a better grip on life than Ah’ve had as’sa late.”
Zecora’s eyebrow shot into a perfect arch. “What do you me-”
But now Applejack’s words were coming, and they wouldn’t stop coming. “A-Ah just don’t think it’s fair! I buck trees and cart crates and bust my flank, hour after hour, and Ah always feel so weak! Pinkie’s got her Sense and her confoundin’ prep for everything, Dash’s so fast, Rarity’s a fountain of talent, and Fluttershy’s so good with animals! Even Twilight… darn it, she’s a future Princess in the making!” Spittle was finally caking Applejack’s maw as she rattled off her fellow Elements’ skills. “An’ what am I?”
“Why, you a-”
“D-don’t you dare! Not now!” Applejack held up a hand, its tremble almost as violent as the tremors striking the cracks in her heart. “A-ah ain’t saying this for pity or nothin’, an’ I don’t need it! It’s just the plum-honest truth! Me an’ mah family are either the center of some foolhardy mishap or the first ones scramblin’ in the face of a threat and I… I…”
Another swallow, and Applejack was getting painfully aware of how tight her throat was now. Even the knot of her shirt felt like a weight pushing against her very soul, sodden with sweat and self-doubt. So, she collected herself with a few ragged breaths and deliver her final piece.
“Ah’m just so lost in all this newfangled stuff my friends get into! An’ Ah know they don’t care about it, that me bein’ with them is enough for them!” Applejack bit her lip. “But… but it’s…”
“No longer enough for you.”
It was a guess that slipped from Zecora’s lips as she slowly blinked. Zecora’s confirmation only came in motions now; the guarded twitch of Applejack’s shoulders, the head sinking forward into the mouth of her cup, the desperate tapping of her heel against the ground.
“It is no longer enough for you.” Zecora’s continued. Her tone was level now, though coaxing. “And you feel guilty for the hurt. Since you are still able-bodied, despite the danger that you flirt.”
Applejack didn’t move. So Zecora went on with her speech.
“I… see what dogs you now. What plight makes you withdrawn. Perha…” And Zecora hesitated, but only for a second. “Perhaps I should share a tale, too? To help your hope respawn?”
Finally, Applejack spoke. “Ah should go.” Applejack yanked herself out of her seat, still not making eye contact with the strapping zebra mare. “Made a right fool’a myself right there, an… an’ you prolly have enough to work on anyways, so—”
At a speed that boggled the farm-pony’s mind, Zecora's hand clamped over the doorknob, the ball of wood disappeared under her mammoth palm. After a while, Applejack raised her head until she could see Zecora’s face again, tears stinging at the edge of her vision yet refusing to fall past steely eyes.
Zecora met them with the same intensity. “Only two minutes; that is all I ask. If it fails to move you…” Her hand finally left the doorknob. “You may return to your task.”
Applejack's jaw worked, resting on the balls of her hooves as they arched toward the door and then Zecora. Eventually, the shamaness’s lure won out in her mind; she braced herself against the door, arms tightly folded, and waited for Zecora to continue.
This time, she would not have to wait long.
“There once was a zebra; one day pushed to her limit. Her nerves were tortured; resolve fading by the minute.” Zecora rested a hand on her chest, one of her fingers tapping right over her heart. “She had lifted weights too long; now her bill came due, and with no one around, she was sure she was through.
But that was a lie; one pony stayed with her still. They were there but in spirit, but their words were a thrill. Because when that poor zebra’s mind wanted to quit, that pony would rub her brain smooth with her grit.”
Applejack’s eyes were shimmering again, but not with the threat of tears. Awe and anticipation welled in those pupils, and Zecora was magnetized to them as she leaned forward, her every exhalation vaporizing the sweat on the farm-mare’s brow.
“As the zebra grew sturdy, her pony bond followed. It had filled a spot in her that neglect once left hollowed. Now that zebra’s stronger, both for staying true…”
Zecora bent down, tucking her free hand under Applejack’s trembling chin.
“And for that crisp apple that helped make her anew.” Zecora finished.
Applejack felt like she’d faint again, her vision was clouded and wavering. It took her a while to realize it wasn’t from the drink still trapped in her clammy hands; the steam had faded from its surface long ago. Instead, she only chased the question, no matter how starkly obvious the answer was. She needed to hear it, craved to hear it.
“I… did all that for you? Even though I wasn't really there?”
Zecora nodded, slow and steady, the tendons in her neck bobbing decisively as she spoke. “It was your afterimage that kept me going. I figured I should not be the only one knowing.”
Applejack nodded in return, the dark pit of disillusionment in her mind fading away in a white-and-black-striped haze. Her smile clung back to her face, touching her eyes in short order as she wrapped her arms around the hunky shamaness. "Mah stars, Ah didn’t even think Ah could be that to anyone! Ah thank ya for tellin’ me that, Zecora. For... for everythign.”
Zecora was the first to pull back, grinning broadly at the blushing mare cough between her massive milk-jugs. “Well that makes two of us, Applejack; my pride is in your joy. Now, there’s rain coming soon; for a while longer, be my envoy.”
Applejack’s eyes shot to the window. Already, faint beads of water were collecting on its panes; she could even smell the brine of rainclouds, faint as it was so close to this musky zebra. Zecora’s forecast seemed right. And she hadn’t even brought her hat, so… “You bet. Have anythin’ in mind?”
Zecora chuckled, the sound rumbling yet regal as she led Applejack back to the table. “Well you did take to one warm-up just fine,” she said, pointing to the mug still nestled in Applejack’s hands. “Perhaps our next chat should involve one of us supine?”
Confusion knit its way across Applejack’s brow. “Pardon?”
In a blur of black, Zecora swiped the mug from Applejack’s hands, setting it on the table before her. Then the zebra jutted a hip into the table, the piece of furniture knocking it into the wall with a rattling thunk. The carpet underneath it stayed right where it was, however, and Zecora’s grin only grew as she paced its perimeter like a hungry lioness.
“Wh-what the h-”
“Think of this as a ring; just take a step in...” Zecora cooed, her tail flicking against well-sculpted thighs impatiently. “...And let's see just which one of us gets the pin.“
The color fled Applejack’s face so fast Zecora wondered if something had lodged in her throat. No worries on that end though, Applejakc’s reply came right after, if as squeaky as a rabbit’s. “Wait, you and me? But… Ah mean… jeez, just look at you!”
And an invigorating shiver pulsed through Zecora’s body at those words. Applejack didn’t even know this, but there was a mirror perched on the far wall behind her that did just that; give Zecora a great look at her. And what she was as an amazingly lopsided contrast.
Zecora’s loincloth alone seemed to end at Applejack’s chest level, a testament to how Zecora was almost double Applejack’s size. While that farm-mare had the bigger tits, a slight hitching of the zebra’s breath made her twins bob in ways that made Applejack’s eyes bug out. Heck, just one of Zecora’s biceps seemed to be as wide around as one of Applejack’s thighs, and Applejack’s limbs had been trained by a decade of bucking fruit off of trees.
And yet… Zecora just could not wait to feel this orange pony’s strength brought to bear against her own.
“My harmonious Element, your arena awaits—” Zecora purred, knotting her fingers together. “Or has my might stopped you even from testing these gates?”
The second she saw that flicker of flame ignite behind Applejack’s jade eyes, Zecora knew she had her answer. For all her personal changes, one thing Applejack still was over the years was provocation-prone. It had been so cute when Applejack was shrunken by the Poison Joke, her diminutive figure hopping to and fro like it was on pins.
Right now though—it was mesmerizing to see her slam one clenched hand into the cradle of another as she took her place on that mat. Across from her. Close to her.
Yet… telling the farm-mare about that was for later, however.
“Alright then, brawny…” Applejack panted, spacing her stance and grinning wolfishly. ”Time to show just how hard y’can still fall!”
Applejack, sweat sloughing off her body, only barely dodged the leg sweep before surging to wrap Zecora’s head in another sleeper hold. Her flaxen mane fell sound her in knotty curtains, and her limits vibrated with fatigue unmatched. But her muscles bulged hard as she tried to finally press her advance. It’d taken a half-hour to get to this point; she wouldn’t give up now.
Zecora, on the other hand, wasn’t even sucking wind. Her mohakwed mane was still perfect. There wasn’t a hint of discoloration on her face despite Applejack’s attempts to render her unconscious. And she was even biting her lip, nostrils flaring at each whiff of salty sweat that graced them. This idea of hers was proving to be far more thrilling than she ever dared dream.
All that was left was to seize her opportunity.
As Zecora leaned back, she reveled in the squawk Applejack let out as she was suddenly crushed under her weight. Only slightly, though, nothing that actually hurt—but it was enough to keep Applejack from escaping under her sizable frame. And eventually, Applejack relented.
“All right…” she gasped, her arms unwinding from Zecora’s bulging neck at last. “Y’win, Zecora…”
Zecora was the one short of words for once. She hadn’t believed that Applejack could feel so… scorchingly hot against her. Maybe she might have done more than sneak a pinch on this athletic mare’s ass that one time…
She shook her head. No. Zecora had to focus on this moment. There were still so many ways her interpretations of Applejack’s candor could go wrong. And there was only so long she could hide what was stirring strongly under her loincloth and thong.
Before a flurry of Applejack questions could blunt the shamaness's thunder.
“Indeed. But I feel bad; you’ve strained yourself so much…” Zecora said, rolling off Applejack’s body—and immediately lamenting the loss of lust-stoking heat. “Should our session continue under a far different touch?”
Applejack didn’t need a roadmap to know where this was going next. “Oh… a massage for me too? Shoot, and here Ah thought Ah was the loser of this contest—whoa!”
This time, Applejack’s body didn’t stiffen in the presence of the zebra’s starling swiftness. She’d already seen it in action twice before. Besides, with her currently being in Zecora’s arms, stiffening up was probably a good way to tumble to the floor.
Soon, Applejack was softly laid face-down over another soft surface; the padded white leather of a spa cot, with a hole right under her chin. She only braced her arms over it, however, choosing to keep her gaze locked on Zecora as she prepared herself for their next procedure.
“Applejack, your top; that won't be required.” Zecora’s honey-sweet tone shut down all thoughts of discomfort from Applejack’s mind, despite the burn in her overexerted body. “They must be so heavy after what just transpired.”
Two emerald eyes swung down, and they found no complaints to be had. Zecora was right; Applejack’s top and pants felt uncomfortably damp right now. And every second she saw the shamaness across from her slide another layer of heated oil onto her deft palms, Applejack’s desire to feel them tread over her back unimpeded only rose.
When Zecora turned around, the last thread of resistance snapped. In a flash of scarlet cotton, Applejack was soon topless. Something hot and primal charged through her blood, making her lick at her bottom lip before blushing. Goodness, it wasn’t even that hot in here when she first stepped in! Just how was Zecora raising the temperature ten degrees with every swaying step she took toward her?
“Perfect. Now let your thoughts drift…” Zecora almost whispered now, trailing an oiled finger up the crook of Applejack’s spine. “And I shall ensure your stress is left adrift.”
What happened next to Applejack came in what felt like mini-dreams rather than moments in time. Zecora’s hands engulfed most of Applejack’s back as she worked, the smell of vanilla and cinnamon soon filling the farm-pony’s nose. Applejack purred, moaned, and she even giggled a little at each knot Zecora teased out of her shoulders. Her hips rose as those hands treaded lower, following the curve of her ribs, and she wondered if Zecora had shot her into the clouds with how soft the felt against her back felt.
The second her eyes reopened to take in Zecora, two things slammed home for the Element of Honesty. Firstly; that cloud-like compress against her back was from Zecora’s breasts, those squishy tits threatening to slip their leather bonds as the curvaceous zebra molded herself to Applejack’s back. Second, the cool air that had graced Applejack's dimpled ass-cheeks was not a fantasy either; somehow, this zebra had slipped off Applejack's jean shorts when she had been undulating in Zecora's grasp.
“Zecora…?” Applejack breathed, her mind too fogged to process the shock dully sparking her nerves. “Wha… what’re you…”
“Shhhh…” the striped shamaness said, sucking her lip between her teeth as she slid her slick rack against Applejack’s back. It did its job, silencing Applejack’s question under another strangled gasp. “Is this what you want as much as I?”
Applejack was certain something had changed in their dynamic, something big that she was missing. But she found that she couldn’t give three tosses of a horseshoe about that, especially with the trickles of oil sliding down her sides and Zecora’s hot breath in her ear. So she shrugged and closed her eyes, waiting patiently for Zecora to make the next move.
Zecora’s grin shone bright, her pearly whites twinkling in the reflection of Applejack’s oiled back. It wouldn’t take long now. Already, she was losing herself; her altered vernacular had proved that. From her vantage point, she could catalog the years of constant farm-tending and heavy lifting that had made Applejack’s back so tendon-thick. Life, well-lived and wonderful, surged against Zecora's bra sending thrilling sparks through her rock-hard nipples.
She had chosen well, been inspired by the best: Applejack was the one for her.
Now, it was time to see just how mutual the feeling was.
Zecora slid off of Applejack’s back, lowering herself until the farm-pony’s taut rump was right before her eyes. The zebra’s hands moved in rings over those flanks, patterns practiced by tracings of her cutie mark during lonely, cold nights. Once again, Applejack let her approval be known in waxing coos, hips shifting against the leather cot as she scooched into Zecora’s heavenly touch.
“Applejack, do you find me attractive?”
Before Zecora could ask herself just why she voiced such a brash question at such a crucial juncture, she got her answer. “… yep.”
Well, that worked for Zecora. Another squeeze of that apple-shaped bottom and the farm-pony cursed throatily.
“This is good…” Zecora murmured, almost too low to hear. “Because I find you very hot too.”
Then Zecora moved her snout closer to what laid between those powerful thighs of Applejack.
And what she saw made her grin turn rictal.
There was a lake of juices soaking into the cushioning of the cot, and it was straight from the dewy valley of Applejack’s pussy. The lips were flush already, a sparkling contrast to the tuft of orange fur beyond its lowest point. Zecora sank her hands harder into Applejack’s left asscheek, and she could see those lips part to deliver another hot squirt of cunthoney. That spray landed dangerously close to her snout.
Zecora now sported a prominent tent in her loincloth—she didn’t even need to look down to confirm. With a sucking of teeth, she willed in her roaring libido. No need to rush this.
Still, it didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun with the next step.
Leveling a finger on her right hand at Applejack’s sopping slit, Zecora waited for Applejack’s shivering to die down. Then Zecora drove right into that waiting hole, the spongy feel as she thrust making her eyes widen.
Not as much as Applejack’s, though. “Ohmi—” The farm-pony’s back shot into a gorgeous arch that Zecora immediately resolved to get in that position again, her jaw jutting open and shut. “Wow… okay!” Her mind was still fried by the pleasure, the suddenness of it all.
But yet, the eyes that shot right into Zecora’s weren’t showing discomfort or regret. Just… disbelief. And not the noncompliant kind—it was the one that came with a mouth torn between a grin and a gape, courtesy of a mind trying and failing to compress just who it was two knuckles deep in her rather than that they were two knuckles deep in her.
“My apologies. I could not resist,” Zecora asked her fingers still around the walls seized around them. “If I have overstepped, speak and I shall desist.”
Nothing came from Applejack, the orange pony’s jaw still in traction. Slowly, Zecora started to retreat her fingers, unsure if she’d just ruined the most treasured bond she’d had in decades.
“Hold on…”
Again, Zecora stopped. Goodness, it was invitingly warm inside Applejack’s pussy, was it not?
“Back then. W-when you asked if Ah thought you were… beautiful.” Applejack moistened her lips again. “Ya didn’t even rhyme then.”
Zecora blinked dumbly. Wait. That was what had been mulling in Applejack’s mind? But the thought was banished as soon as it bloomed; this was Applejack after all. She was always far more perceptive than most ponies thought.
More critical of herself, too.
“Yes.” The zebra responded. “When such perfection is so close to me… I lose myself a little bit.”
Applejack, after a while, smiled. Then she looked down at her shapely tush. Her tail flicked incessantly, finally tousling Zecora’s mane a little.
“Well then…” And Applejack finally laid her head back down on the cot. “Maybe y’could… lose a bit more? Ah still have some ground ta make up for that playfight.”
If Zecora smiled any wider, she was sure she’d crack her jaw. Instead, she put her mouth toward a different task—burying itself in the swell of Applejack’s ass, right against the cluster of apples stamped on its left side. Immediately, her mind drifted to thoughts of that glass of Sweet Apple Acres milk, still sitting on her windowsill.
Yet, Zecora knew her tongue was lapping against a far sweeter treat than that milk right now.
Zecora’s fingers worked their magic once more, swirling and pushing against the velvety insides of her athletic mate. Applejack’s moans were music to her ears now, melodic coos that played in concert with the sloshing sounds of that pony’s slit being drilled. Yet, Zecora valued thoroughness even now, the points of her nails steady and soft as they brushed over Applejack’s G-spot.
For Applejack, however, the contact was more than enough for this moment. Applejack's tongue flagged out of her mouth as she purred, hips surging against the fingers drawing so much ecstasy in so little time. One of her hands flowed through her unkempt mane, the other reaching under her oil-slick body to palm one of her puffy breasts.
“Shit, Zec…” she moaned. “Go…go faster.”
Zecora complied, adding two more fingers and resting her thumb at the edge of Applejack’s puckered plot. Applejack’s snatch seized tighter around Zecora’s digits in response, stretched to its limits and soaking everything in her juices. Zecora’s tongue joined in the fun as well, lapping against Applejack’s glutes and lingering on each bead of sweat that soaked her taste buds. More than anything, Zecora wanted to slide her tongue right into the stuffed twat of this farm-pony, and see if she could drown in the nectar pumping from that juicy clit.
But she knew she’d have that taste all too soon, anyhow. Judging from Applejack’s licentious wails, the zebra's true task—bringing Applejack to her absolute height of ecstasy—was coming along smoothly.
Within seconds, that farm mare was coming quite literally as well.
“Zec… Zec, oh, fuc~” Applejack was robbed of air and coherency at once as orgasm struck her like a timberwolf, thrashing blissfully onto the finger she was gushing upon. Wave after wave of fresh sap flooded Zecora’s right hand, and its addicting, sweet smell goaded Zecora to keep the finger-fucking going.
Applejack was soon shaking like a leaf, in the throes of one orgasm and teetering on another thanks to the digits still hammering at her G-spot. Her ass felt like it was in heaven too, still fondled lovingly by the hulking goddess known as Zecora. That such generosity—such dedication—was bestowed on her in the lewdest ways by this mountainous zebra was eventually enough to push Applejack into climax number two. Yet another waterfall of sticky juices spilled from between her shaking legs, her mind clouding over with
After those tremorous feelings of joy ebbed to a more manageable level, Applejack slumped in her cot, her limbs limp and dragging off the edges—well, besides the hand still clawing at her generous mounds. She was a mess, greedily panting as she felt Zecora withdraw her fingers from her well-traveled tunnel with an alluring pop.
As Zecora thought, the taste of Applejack’s batter on her fingers was utterly intoxicating. Sweet yet tart, the zebra's tastebuds luxuriated in the gift their feeder had given them, several rich purrs seeping from Zecora’s lips as a result.
At this point, Applejack was confident she could probably nod off now and consider it a good day. Even the thought of so much at the farm that she’d left undone, the radiating lust from the statuesque Zecora enveloped her so thoroughly that she could lay in it forever.
Then her hazy mind realized that the heat was coming from Zecora staring at her, and she gave the zebra a dopey smile. “Guess Ah… chalk that damn fine session up… to a trade secret?”
“No. That’s just me being… appreciative.” Zecora rose to her full height, her thumbs lodged at the hem of her loincloth’s band. “But if it’s a secret you want…”
The sultry blaze of Applejack’s eyes told Zecora that she’d love nothing more than to know more.
“...then I suppose I can spare some meat to go with your tea.” With a strong tug, the loincloth fluttered off of Zecora’s sinewy thighs.
Applejack’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, even though her weary body didn’t follow in her shock. Bobbing in front of her snout was Zecora’s ‘secret’—though that hardly felt like a fitting term for it now. Right now, the fact that Zecora could keep an arm-thick, fifteen-inch cock like hers hidden under anything for so long was nothing short of a modern miracle.
From her angle, Applejack could trace every vein of that titanic tool, invisible as they’d otherwise be due to the obsidian tint of that dick. Its tip was a blunt yet drooling knob, a river of pre-cum building on the cot cushion and soaking into Applejack’s mane. Hanging underneath this meat pillar was the heftiest pair of balls Applejack had ever seen, each the size of a mango and churning with what the farm-pony was sure was enough cum to float a boat.
Specifically, the skyscraper-long S.S. Lusitaneigha.
“You’re just… full of surprises, ain’t ya?” Applejack said, too dumbstruck to make any other inquiry. Especially with a brain still recharging from an orgasm it had endured minutes before.
Zecora giggled, lowering a palm to wrap around her ponderous dick’s base. “I aim to please, Applejack,” she saucily stated, making her way directly in front of her favorite mare. “I have… often fouled up the plumbing here with how much I spill from this. I admit, it is part of the reason that I have opened my humble abode to Ponyville as a massage parlor.”
Applejack couldn’t find it in her to voice complaints. Outwardly, anyway; on the inside... ‘Shit, no wonder Mac ran for the hills! Startin’ to wonder if Ah shouldn’t, right about now…’
But once again, that nurturing yet pleading look in Zecora’s eyes chased all options from Applejack’s mind but one. Zecora was pent up, in need of some focused relief to go with all her impressive bulk. And Applejack was just at the right level to play the part of peacemaker.
Or piece-taker, however it worked out.
“So then?” Zecora fluttered her eyelashes flirtatiously. “Do you want to have a bite?”
“I’m an Apple mare, Zecora…” Applejack replied. “We don’t do just one bite’a anythin’.”
Zecora laughed again.
‘Besides…’ thought Applejack, her mind still lingering on how hot it had sounded when Zecora pulled her fingers from her drenched slit. ‘Fair’s fair, after all.’
By the first tongue-lap, though, Applejack’s senses realized she might have grossly underpaid for such an addicting treat. Zecora’s aroma was the first thing to flood Applejack’s being, a heady mix of sweat and cinnamon-y perfume that played havoc with the farm-pony’s inhibitions. She gurgled a bit on the fuck-log she was still trying to wedge into her mouth, and the taste of it—a chowder-like mix of salt and honey—made Applejack drool with its intensity. Then there was the sight: Applejack couldn’t get enough of Zecora’s dark eyes boring into her, her jewelry flashing like hypnotic wheels, her every muscle taut and slick with oil.
Especially Zecora's dimpled, stripy funbags.
And their areolas, dark as pitch yet as magnetic to the eyes as black holes.
And the eraser-sized nipples upon each bouncing boob that Zecora was dragging to her lips…
Applejack squeezed her eyes shut; any more and she’d probably cum again, much as she’d love to hear Zecora chuckle tauntingly at how easy it was to draw orgasm from her. Instead, she redoubled her efforts to take in more of Zecora’s impressive cock, her tongue battling at the underside of its shaft as she pulled herself further upon it. Saliva seeped from her lips in messy streams, sticking more of her mane to her cheeks, but she pressed on undaunted. Soon, Applejack had several inches of Zecora down her gullet, but she soon hit upon two impending issues.
The back of her throat was already being tapped by Zecora’s dick-tip.
And the zebra hadn’t even gotten halfway inside her maw.
That medial ring decorating the far end of Zecora’s tool suddenly looked like an oasis to the farm-pony’s eyes; shimmering enticingly, yet so far away as to be nonexistent. Applejack’s stubborn streak flared up at that realization, and she growled around Zecora’s girth in defiance.
No way was she ending this night without her tongue touching that ring.
No way, no how.
She just needed to bear it, and bear it Applejack did, her throat gapling in a mad break for air as several more inches of Zecora’s mammoth member clogged it near-shut. Applejack could feel the thrum of blood around every inch of cock-meat she ingested, could see the stars popping in her vision as she starved herself of more oxygen. But Applejack would not be denied, not with her mind so forced. And her body relented to her will, her hands clenching in the shamaness’s flanks to get better grounding as she impaled herself more on Zecora’s fucklog.
Zecora moaned wetly, the sound rippling over the breast she was suckling like a foal. Seeing Applejack’s cheeks puff out around her shaft, just at the edge of her mountainous cleavage, was a sight she’d never forget. Her teeth clamped lightly around her nipple, and more electricity shot through her veins. Zecora’s dick reacted wonderfully to the sensation too, ballooning in the farmpony’s mouth as she slurped and gagged around it.
“So hot, oh shit…” Zecora desirously whispered.
Applejack would have concurred if she was capable of speech. As it was, not passing out was second on her agenda, right behind getting her lips around that damned medial ring. She was only a couple of inches away now—only a few wet slurps from getting a full foot of cum-pipe in her throat!
But her limits were impeding her again. With a relenting gurgle, she pulled herself from Zecora again, breaking into a coughing fit soon after.
“Oh, Applejack…” Zecora said, lowering her free hand to stroke Applejack’s mane. “You don’t have to go that far for me…”
“Why not? Everypony looks up to you as is.” Applejack hoarsely panted. “Even mah sister.”
Zecora went shock-still for a moment. Her thoroughly wet dick twitched in a call for more carnal contact, but she did not heed it. “Then why is it she only speaks of you when she is around?”
Applejack's eyebrows cocked up. “Huh?”
Zecora’s hand—the one still around a handful of Applejack mane—knuckled into the cushioning of the cot. “She says that all she does—getting her mark, mastering potion-making with me, even getting friends of her own—is to become as big a presence in Ponyville as you.” Zecora grinned. “And I agree with your baby sister’s assessment. You are already a somepony; no, the somepony of Ponyville. Its measuring stick. The first into danger, the last taking stock.”
Then, Zecora’s eyes set solidly into Applejack’s own.
“And I would not bother with all this if you were not already the best you that you could be.”
Applejack’s eyes twinkled jubilantly. So much of this day had come as one system-shock after another, especially in terms of how she saw luminous zebra before her. Only two words worked their way past Applejack's turbulent mind, to accompany the daring twinkle that returned to her eyes. “Ah see…”
“As I always have. Now, I am certain I am well-prepared as is, so if you wi-oh my sweet Luna~”
Probably not a surprise after seeing that glint of renewed vigor in Applejack, but what truly rocked Zecora was the light pop that followed Applejack’s deepthroating. An entire foot of cock flew back down the farm-pony’s throat, and that finally included the tight band of skin that was near her length’s base. Zecora’s eyes rolled into her skull, her lips seizing around her neglected nipple, and her hips rolled hard into Applejack’s packed mouth.
For that brief little moment, comfort for the marvelous mare beneath Zecora took second billing. The zebra's mind was Tartarus-bent on one thing now, and that was getting more of that perfect fit around her fuckstick.
And she’d have it for a good long while, as Applejack bobbed her head back and forth on Zecora’s prodigious prick. With the milestone behind her, Applejack was flossing her lover's futacock down her throat in endless breath-taking thrusts. It also gave Zecora more breadth to piston her hips into Applejack’s face, merrily chasing her own erotic high. God, and she'd thought feeling what came from Applejack's slit was enough to drive any being mad!
Soon, orgasm started making its presence known for Zecora. The muscles in her thighs bunched, veins standing out around their edges like echoes. Her hand around Applejack’s mane grew iron-tight, guaranteeing that her every thrust would bring her balls to spank that naughty chin of her farm-slut. Sweat even finally started to break out all along her striped frame, the exertion adding a header spice to Zecora's fragrant musk.
But alas, Zecora denied herself yet again. She remembered how tantalizing the burn of climax denied had been for her before. As much as she wanted to paint Applejack’s face as white as her freckles, she also wanted to feel that hellaciously sordid strain, just a little bit more.
So Zecora pulled her cock back from Applejack’s throat, shut her ears to the mare’s garbled objections, and tried her damnedest not to ask for a picture of those strings of saliva between her length and the farm-pony’s lips. The strapping zebra just reached back, grabbing the rug they’d been grappling on only an hour ago, and dragged it under her hooves.
Applejack’s hollering died out the second Zecora laid back on the cushions, wholly bare and dripping with raw intent.
“Your worries are about everypony looking up to me, correct?” Zecora asked playfully, her legs spreading to let Applejack see just how ready she was to continue their fuck-fest. "Then how about if I willingly take a spot below you, just this once?”
Applejack’s limbs sprang to life, winding around the legs of her cot in shock. Slowly, the truth of just what positioning Zecora was offering Applejack in their session broke through the fog of her mind.
And then Applejack finally pulled herself off the cot, strutting over to Zecora was a voracious grin glued to her face. She swung a leg over Zecora’s frame, her drooling clit right over the steel-stiff cock of her zebra mate. She shivered as she felt Zecora’s hands settle over her flanks, dark thumbs busy kneading the swells of her ass.
Applejack then shot the futa shamaness a scorching stare of lust. Slowly, she raised a finger to her lips, coating it in saliva through several exaggerated slurps that made Zecora’s pupils dilate in desire. Applejack let that finger drift down to her puckered plot, her tail flagging as she traced that ring of muscle with surgical precision.
Then, in continuation of her silent show, Applejack spread her arms in wait.
Zecora got the message immediately, and with a steady pull, brought Applejack until her cock slipped past the farm-pony’s well-prepped plot.
“Mmmmph…” Applejack purred, bracing her hands next to Zecora’s knees as her own finally touched the rug. “Feels… so good…”
“It gets… so much better, friend…” Zecora whispered. “Just start moving.”
And so Applejack did. Her voluptuous asscheeks clapped and rolled around Zecora’s member, every hop helping it strike deep into her body. The twerking show was too much for Zecora to take lying down, and soon she was matching the moaning mare thrust for thrust, her thighs plapping against Applejack's in a sensuous concerto.
For a while, that was all they needed. Zecora was happy to stay patting Applejack’s roiling rump, loving how the slight hint of fat there made it jiggle like balloons around her trained fingers. Applejack's lust wasn’t left to languish either; the feel of Zecora’s titanic cock barreling through her backdoor was like a four-alarm fire. And the sight of Zecora—muscle-bound, lamppost-tall, softly-grinning Zecora—as the zebra filled her so completely was nothing short of mouthwatering.
So much so, that Applejack didn’t want to have to peer back to keep that lewd sight committed to memory.
Getting her hooves back under her again, Applejack did something Zecora’s lengthy pole pulsed in thanks for; she corkscrewed herself on the zebra’s cock until she was squatting over Zecora’s upper body. Then, still impaled on that more-than-footlong fuckstick, Applejack sank onto her knees again, her hands fisting in Zecora’s heaving mammaries as she gasped and cried for “more, more, more, mooooore~!”
With how loud Applejack was getting, it sounded like she'd die if she didn’t get deep-dicked.
And Zecora would not allow that.
Her hips became a blur as she impaled Applejack, loving the raw firecrackers that burst behind her eyes every time Applejack tweaked her nipples. Zecora could feel that velveteen cavern of Applejack convulsing and shuddering, and she knew that the orange pony was close to her third orgasm. Knowing that it was her that got the chance to make such overwhelming ecstasy twist the farm-pony’s face finally made the spring coiling in the shamaness’s loins start crimping.
After a teeth-gritted roar, Zecora came, her balls latching right against her crotch as her seed blasted into Applejack. Over and over, virile rivers of white oozed into every crevice of Applejack’s plot, the feeling speeding Applejack on to her release with a shattering wail. With hot juices spilling over her thighs, and her cock being milked by the writhing Applejack, Zecora was in absolute heaven.
Until she came down and realized she was still rock-hard, despite the thick web of fuckbatter trailing down her prominent thighs. With Applejack still cumming her brains out—and pinching her nipples so often she couldn’t get on her elbows to let her know—Zecora let a savage growl slip past her lips. Fuck, it was all too much!
She needed to make Applejack hers. Now, while she still had the stamina and sanity to do it.
Slowly, Zecora wedged her fingers into Applejack’s doughy rump, pulling until she finally unrooted herself from the farm-pony’s squirting snatch. Then, with several breaths to steady the futa shamaness’s nerves, she rolled around Applejack until her crotch was flush against the kneeling Applejack’s tush again. The difference this time was, Zecora was at her full, fearsome height. And her cock was far from finished as she leveled its shiny head at the last hole of Applejack’s it hadn’t flooded.
Of course, she had to make sure Applejack was good with this too.
“My dear, sweet Applejack…” Zecora stared, nipping along the columns of muscle along Applejack’s shoulder blades. “Are you ready for this?”
A lump traveled down Applejack’s throat, followed by a shudder at the hints of Zecora’s pre-cum that already basted it. Then, down came the final decision. “Do it… Auntie Zec.“
Zecora nodded gratefully, winding her beefy arms around the waist of her little cocksock-to-be. Her bites turned to smoking-hot kisses, leaving rings of black lipstick in countless number upon Applejack’s heaving back. They reminded the shamaness of leopards’ spots, especially imposed against the copper-golden palette of Applejack’s coat.
In seconds, Zecora’s grin turned as feral as a leopard’s too, as her muscles tightened—
And she rammed herself into Applejack’s cunt.
Applejack howled, reality shattering before her widened eyes only to re-piece itself solely with the massive zebra pounding into her. Zecora's every stroke was witheringly hard, yet the hands and lips around her were impossibly gentle. The farm-mare felt her G-spot being pulverized behind each meeting of their hips, every impact a thunderclap to Applejack’s bliss-soaked brain.
Zecora had Applejack now: mind, body, and soul, The farm-pony's pussy drooled for that zebra’s twitching fuck-stick, her mouth sang for her sloppy kiss. And Zecora gave it to her, their lips smacking and popping against each other lewdly. Their thigh-clapping noises were soon the only sound that registered in Applejack’s mind, the plapplapplaps of their sweat-and-oil-strewn bodies like a thousand-strong crowd’s applause.
Pretty soon, Applejack might draw one if her rapturous screams got any louder.
Zecora wouldn’t be the one to silence them, however. Despite the bruising array of kisses, the second that Applejack’s moaning started, the zebra wrapped her lips around the tip of Applejack’s ear and tugged to up their pitch. One of Zecora's hands dipped low to pinch at the bead atop Applejack’s plumbed pussy; the other moved to palm the other breast of AJ’s as she ground against her ass. The friction was just what Zecora needed; especially considering how wonderfully hot Applejack’s body felt around her cock and her hands.
Their final peak seemed to come too slow and yet not slow enough. Applejack was a wanton mess now, her speech incomprehensible yet insatiable. She jiggled the tit she held in her hand and launched her ass against Zecora’s crashing hips. She wanted the force tenderizing her body to never end, and yet the need for something else won out every time she felt Zecora's dick tap against her womb’s entrance. She wanted Zecora’s seed, as virile and smoking-hot as the bulky zebra herself, a piece of this brew-happy titan’s power in the most treasured chamber.
Zecora wanted to fuse herself to this wailing farm-pony, her hips seeking such a permanent union with every rough piston. But mostly, she wanted to finally have someone that she could feel her future rumbling inside—who saw every inch of the sinewy goddess Zecora was and coveted it like a pot of gold. And with how lovingly Applejack arched against the shamaness, with how strenuously she pushed back into the thrusts of her veiny fuck-staff, Zecora was sure that she’d found her true other.
All that was left was to seal it.
“Applejack… m-my love—fuck, I’m coming~”
And so Zecora did, with a kiss and an orgasm. Hot, surging seed barreled into Applejack’s womb, the first dollop of it enough to bulge Applejack’s belly past her heaving tits. Applejack moaned against Zecora, her swollen lips sending buzzes of bliss through her as the zebra’s tongue slipped past them to ravage her mouth. Soon, Applejack’s pussy was springing leaks, the cock still tunneling through them splashing contrails of cum over her ass with every thrust. Strings of pearly liquid threaded between the two fuckmates’ thighs, connecting them every time Zecora pulled back for another bottoming-out.
And then, to both zebra and pony’s shock, Applejack came again.
The stickiness of the lake between their legs only increased as Applejack's juices surged over two waiting, willing cum-sacs. Zecora purred her gratitude into Applejack’s mouth, her hands moving to the building stomach of Applejack as she traced it with marveling fingers. By Luna’s labia, she hadn’t thought any pony could even fit all of her, let alone all of her seed. Yet, Applejack had, her only casualty being her equilibrium and those wonderfully sweet abs of hers.
To be fair, Zecora considered this more than a fair trade.
Not wanting Applejack to simply use her stomach like an exercise ball, Zecora carefully yanked her wilting length out of the farm-mare’s cunt. Then, she rolled them onto her back, Applejack’s head nestled over two stripey fun-bags as she basked in her afterglow. It felt like a pair of the fluffiest pillows Applejack had ever been between, and she trembled deliriously in their wake.
Once her breath had finally gotten back to her, there was only one thing on Applejack’s mind.
“Ah’m no Twilight or nothin’...” Applejack said, her voice still labored from the throat-swabbing Zecora’s tool had done. “But Ah think this here’s violation some laws of physics or whatnot.”
“Not to worry, my love…” Zecora said. “If you want, one of my brews can knock that seed out of you.” Her smile turned mischievous as one of her fingers lowered to trail the edges of Applejack’s still-sensitive slit. “Of course, I might get antsy and wish to fill that cavern again.”
Applejack swatted teasingly at Zecora’s shoulder. “C’mon, Zecora, don’t be such a ‘Tosh.”
Zecora’s fingers retreated, instead tapping on her lip. “A ‘Tosh?”
“A revenge nickname for mah perverted b-later. Ah’ll… tell you about the origins of that name later.” Applejack snuggled into the ample cleavage of her stripe-covered lover. “Wow… these are so squishy.”
Zecora tittered. “You can use your hands, sweet Applejack. I know you want to.”
Applejack hesitantly raises both hands to cup the sides of Zecora’s heaving breasts. She feels their size and weight in her palms. She mewls a little, her breath hitching. They’re so damn big.
“You’ve never touched another mare’s breasts before?” Zecora said.
“… wanted to.”
Zecora nodded. “I know.”
Applejack’s lip disappeared behind her gnawing teeth. “… how’d you get 'em so big? An… how did you even get something… like that of all things.”
Zecora exhaled happily, sucking in a breath herself. “Quite simple…” Then her lips moved to the farm-mare’s ear. “Back home, I was royalty. Prized for my virility and my tinctures, over so many others. Tales spread in the underground of how any mare… or zebra… could prosper eternally from the liquid I produced. Eventually, however, I got so many of my tribe pregnant… that I was shooed off to Ponyville. With all my wares. So the other males could have a chance.”
Applejack’s eyebrows looked ready to board a flight to the moon, they were raised so high. “R-really?” she squeaked.
“... No. But the truth is boring.” Then Zecora’s eyes twinkled caringly. “Unless it is your truth, dearest Applejack.”
Applejack almost melted in the intensity of that gaze. “Well…” she said, her eyes scanning back to the window, rain still mightily pouring outside of it. “Ah’m definitely in no state t’be headin’ home, regardless of what Ah wanna do with… this…”
Her hands spread covetously over her swollen belly.
“Though… gotta admit, another Apple seed runnin’ around the barn… sucking at my nipple…”
Her breath got huskier as her eyes refocused on Zecora.
“...someone I could lay next to, hour after hour...”
Zecora’s grin grew with every word that dropped from Applejack’s limbs. “Is that you asking for a tucking-in?” she asked sensuously. “Or for triplets?”
“Let’s see how carefully y’can get me up those stairs,” Applejack purred. “An’ we can find out together.”
With an alluring growl, Zecora sat up. Tucking the crook of Applejack’s legs under one arm, she then wound the other around Applejack’s back—and latched right around the farm-mare’s breast. At this closeness, and without the shadow of her body over her to mask it, Zecora could see that the freckles dotting her mate’s face were also present on her breast.
They reminded her of sprinkles. Sprinkles atop a dollop of butterscotch ice cream.
“I think I know what meal I’ll be taking in today, now,” Zecora whispered, layering a kiss upon Applejack’s cheek.
Applejack shivered in Zecora’s grasp. “Don’t let me stop you.”
At this point, Zecora didn’t think wild elephants could stop her. She marched the giggling farm-mare up the steps, thanking Luna above that they were steel-lined as well and only creaked under their weight.
Seconds later, rumbling creaks and slatternly cries rattled the house so much that the bottle of milk still on the open windowsill tipped out of it. Its crash went unheeded by the residents of that treehouse. The same was the case with the scandalized wails of Spoiled Rich as she stamped away from the front door, her appointment with the titanic Zecora all but canceled due to…
…well, we’ll say inclement weather and leave it at that.
