The sky melts into grey, and I’m keeping at it.
Out in the rockyards, there’s rarely any bright sunlight; if there were more, things might start to grow, and the rocks would get lost under the growth. Even the sunny days are grey at best; filtered from between the clouds, the light is anemic, pale, wanting for and lacking in something vital. And on most days, there isn’t even that: just clouds of dust and stubborn precipitate, promising rain they rarely deliver.
It’s not a land for happy families, or for happiness in general; to live here, to farm the rocks in contentment and yield the stony bountines of the earth for the grass-dwelling folk, a pony shouldn’t think of happiness or blue sky dreams while they work. They should think of work, and when the work is done they should have the quiet satisfaction that their work was good, and that they had the chance to do good work, and retire early enough that they won’t struggle to start work the morning after.
And yet I’m walking to the rockyards with a small cart full of apples hitched to my collar, and more besides. Apple pies, apple crumble, apple jam, apple cider, apple muffins. Apple myself, for what that’s worth to Igneous Rock, Missus Cloudy Quartz and the Pie sisters, and from what I’ve gathered that’s no small amount. Igneous, loath as he to show emotions, always seems quietly satisfied after I’ve helped plow the rockfields or sow pebbles to the earth. Missus Cloudy, somewhat softer but still reserved, still considers me an unobtrusive guest even after all these years, a feat as difficult to retain as it is vital. Limestone, Maud and Pinkie, all as they are, all accepting me in their different ways, and I think Limestone’s even started to deliberately miss me with those rocks she keeps throwing at my head.
Marble…
I quicken my pace a little: not enough to jostle the contents of the cart too badly, but enough to ensure that I’ll make it to the Pie residence with time to help set the table and pour the broth. The girls will want it.
The knocker raps smartly against the door, and I step back and wait. By the count of four, I remember to duck; a half-count later, the door swings open.
The rock whistling over my head, right between my ears, feels like a formality.
“Evenin’.” I look up and catch Limestone’s gaze. Naturally, she looks furious. Instead of having the audacity to address me like a regular pony, Limestone snorts and turns her head back towards the kitchen.
“Pa!” Limestone bellows. “The dick’s here!”
“Limestone Holder Pie!” calls a higher pitched voice from up the foyer stairs. “Mind thine language!”
“Fine!” Limestone snaps back. “I’ll be weeding out the south field!” Shooting me a glare that could crack quartz, Limestone shoulders her way past me and storms off towards a patch of rocks that I’m at least half-and-half sure is where the south field’s been planted. She doesn’t “accidentally stumble into” and upend the cart, and that all but confirms that she had missed me with today’s rock on purpose, which is heartwarming. Still, I try to get my cart hitched up to a pole by the front of the house as fast as possible, since Igneous…
Or is he “Pa” at this point? For all I’ve been told I can be hard to read, Igneous (Pa?) built the foundations of saying a lot with a little like a pony who’s built foundations of the most solid rock for all his life. I know I can trust him, and I know that he’ll support his family ‘til his back gives out…
“Macintosh.”
…I just wish I knew where he’d marked the lines where family ended and outsiders began. “Evening, Igneous.”
“Brought more offerings, did thou…you.”
“Sure did…did’st I.” I look up and catch his eye. He’s suppressing a grin, poorly. I think I’m failing to suppress mine. “Tried following Missus Quartz’s suggestions on simmering the sauces with stones and brushing down the batter with grit.”
“How’s the taste?”
“Rocky, I think. But I’ll let you folks be the judge of that. You’ve got a better sense of rocks than I do.”
“Indeed.” Pa (Igneous?) says it as a matter of fact, without malice, and I can’t help but agree. Wedging my head into the cart, I grab the edge of the greyest-crusted pie I can find with my teeth and balance it on my back; when I look back at him, he’s eyeballing the rest of the cart.
“Thou can store the rest in our larder after the table’s set and the soup’s poured…”
“Eeyup.”
“...Save for one of your sweeter fares. Thou knowst as well as I that mine daughter—”
“Mac?”
Igneous may be good at commanding attention, but there’s one pony who’s even better at it: A pony that’s grown impossible for me to ignore, even if she still looked just the same as she did when we first met, which week after week was becoming increasingly not the case.
“Marble!”
“Mmhmm.” Marble’s smile is small, but it’s the only small thing about her. It’s a radiant smile, for one thing, the sort of pure font of joy that hits like a locomotive. Her mane, like a cloudy river, practically flows down her face and neck towards her chest, but even that’s not enough to cover up the delight brimming up in her eyes. And all of that, of couse, is utterly overshadowed by her—
“Marbleine Minerva Pie!” squawks a voice from behind her. A second later, and Cloudy Quartz squeezes into what little space is left in front of the door, looking chastizingly at Marble. “Thine mane is not fully brushed out and thine hooves are unwashed. Get back upstairs and ready yourself for dinner at once!”
“Mmm…” Looking guilty, Marble turns back and ponderously makes her way back inside. Offering a brief, polite and sufficiently warm nod, Cloudy Quartz follows after her. It’s almost a good thing that Missus Pie blocks the view, too; otherwise, I doubt that I’d be able to take my eyes off of my—
“She’s hungry.” Pa states matter-of-factly. “Her appetite grows by the week. Bring something sufficient for her to sup on, if you please.”
The table is set and the rock soup is ready before everypony else is back. Igneous and I are standing alone in the kitchen, around a pot that’s probably been around longer than Granny Smith has, watching the vapors rise.
I should say something. He should say something. We don’t get to talk all that often, especially not alone like this. But I can’t entirely think of what to say, and he doesn’t seem inclined to say much.
The vapors keep rising. The kitchen picks up a pungent, earthy, somewhat pleasant smell. Igneous stands, watching, and for the life of me I can’t think of anything to do but wait.
Finally, Igneous dips his head slightly, walks towards the table - and the rock-apple pie i’d set in its center - and unceremoniously carves himself a piece. Levering it expertly onto a small plate he’d set near his soup bowl, he raises the pie slice up with his hoof, takes a bite and chews thoughtfully.
It’s the least polite thing I've seen him do…ever, really, taking a slice like this without waiting for the rest of the family to do the same. But if I look surprised, he doesn’t appear to notice, and he eventually swallows and sets the plate down. “Macintosh.”
“Eeyup?”
“Come early next time you wish to visit my daughter. It would behoove thee to learn how to make rock soup properly.”
My breath catches a little. “I, uh…I thought you didn’t want me to try an’ make it again.”
“Thine previous attempt was a muddied imitation of a proper rock broth, identical in form but unlike in essence. This…” He gestures at the pie. “Is a pasty akin to a proper pie family meal. It is proper pie family sustenance in mine eyes. When you next make rock soup, you will do it properly.”
I’d hoped it would fit the pie family sensibilities, but I wasn’t expecting this level of praise at all. “Thanks, pa.”
Igneous freezes.
I…didn’t just realize what came out of my mouth. I didn’t seriously just out-and-out call…oh, nope. Nope nope nope nope nope.
“Thou…errst not, I suppose.” Igneous readjusts his hat. His lips haven’t twitched an inch, but the surprise etched on his face is blindingly obvious. “The child of mine daughter is mine granddaughter, and thus the father of mine grandchild wouldst be…hm.”
“I, uh…didn’t mean to put you on the spot or—”
“Thou does intend to marry my daughter, yes?”
“Eeyup! Eeyup yup yup. Would’ve done it months ago, but…”
The corner of Igneous’ mouth twitches.
“...Family business, right.”
“Something to discuss over dinner.”
“Eeyup.”
“Truth be told, I…”
The creaking of the stairs interrupts our conversation. A few seconds later, Marble finishes her descent and interrupts the rest of my thoughts altogether, because now I get to see her in all her glory, and there is plenty to see.
Marble is, quite simply, massive. She’s splayed out so much at the sides that I wonder sometimes if she’d need room for two ponies to get through doors and claim seats at apple family picnics. Her immense grey belly hangs so low that I have to wonder if it bumps or drags against the ground when she bends down to plant pebbles or harvest prime, ready-for-carving stones — heck, that was an open question two weeks ago when Igneous needed an extra set of hooves in the east rock fields, and i’m sure her belly swelled out even further since then.
I’m not sure if it’s Apple family genes, Pie family genes or something else at play, but I’ve never seen a mare get as massive as Marble, even in textbooks, and I’m sure I would have remembered if I’d seen somepony larger. The fact that Missus Cloudy (...ma?) hasn’t started to prepare the house for when it’s time to deliver the foal gives me reason to believe that Marble will still stay this big for weeks at least, or (if I could even imagine it) maybe ballooning out even more, and that thought is as mind-blowing as it is pleasant.
She was beautiful before, but these days Marble is undeniably arousing to look at. It’s no secret that I wish she would look this way forever, feel this way forever when my—
“Macintosh.”
I blink. Marble’s standing within nuzzling distance in front of me, looking even more ripe and fit to bursting this close by, and she’s…trying to suppress a giggle?
“Macintosh.”
I jerk my head to the side. Igneous is standing next to the soup pot again, clearly expecting me to help pour the soup and just as clearly suppressing his own smirk. Beside him, Missus…Ma? (Cloudy?) stares at me, looking quite bemused.
I don’t want to know how long I’ve been staring at my Fiance without saying anything. I don’t even want to know if my mouth was hanging open the entire time. As the front door bangs open and Limestone storms in, I decide that all I want to know is whether or not I can pour the broth correctly and if the rest of the family likes the rock-apple pie as much as Igneous does.
“Thou hast outdone thyself, Big Macintosh!”
Cloudy sets her pie plate down and beams. Unlike her husband, it’s least easier to tell how she’s feeling; I wouldn’t call her rambunctiously emotional in the same way that Pinkie Pie or Applebloom are, but she’s not as publicly withdrawn as her baby-burdened daughter.
“Mmhmm,” Marble agrees. I can feel the warmth of her smile wash over me, but I don’t dare offer more than a glance to my side and a happy nod. I love how she looks these days, and she knows that, but we both know that getting aroused at the dinner table isn’t great manners — especially when having dinner with your fiance’s parents.
“Limestone.” Igneous calls down the table. “Have a slice.”
“Nope.” Limestone shakes her head as she pushes her soup bowl aside.
“Limestone.”
“I said no, okay?” Limestone snaps, glaring back at Igneous. “I shouldn’t be having dessert anyway.”
“The flavour is akin to that of a proper rock recipe” Igneous says. “Cloudy, wouldst thou say it compares to your own cooking?”
“I would.” Still smiling, Cloudy looks over at Limestone. “Thou shouldst really try a slice.”
“Ma, look…” Limestone sighs. “Maud’s off doing post-Rocktorate work somewhere, right? Going to be for a while?”
“Erm…yes?”
“And Pinkie’s off…look, I love my sister, we all do, but who knows what she’s getting up to, right? Pinkie does what she wants and what she wants is usually crazy?”
“A bit coarsely phrased” Igneous interjects. “But yes.”
There’s a soft clomping noise to my side, like hooves against wood.
“And you two are, bless our family again, getting old, right? Or older?”
“Time does pass, yes” Igneous says matter-of-factly.
“So let’s recap. Soon enough you aren’t going to be able to work on the farm anymore, Maud isn’t here right now and won’t be for a while, Pinkie can’t be counted on to be anywhere at any point in time, and Marble’s going to be too busy taking care of a foal to help out for at least a few years.” Limestone shoots a look to my side. “At least one foal.”
“Limestone…”
“Which means I’m going to be the only Pie family member who can actually work on the rock farm. I’m the only pony that can keep everything together, which means I have to keep in shape, which means that I can’t be like my sister and casually eat through an entire crumble by myself in one sitting.”
“I’m, um.” Marble’s soft voice pushes its way into the conversation. “Eating for two.”
“Good for you.” Limestone shakes her head at Igneous. “The point is, I don’t get to enjoy dessert anymore.”
“Thou art not the only pony who can work the fields right now, though” Igneous responds, with an edge to his voice that sends a little shiver through me. “Your mother and I…”
“Shouldn’t be working yourselves so hard.”
The clomping noise starts up again, a little closer this time.
“...and Big Macintosh.”
“We don’t need outside help,” Limestone snaps.
“Thine soon-to-be brother-in-law.”
“Nope.”
The whole table freezes for a second. Limestone, looking vaguely smug, gathers up her bowl as if getting ready to leave.
“Limestone…” Cloudy says softly.
“Look, if you really wanted to get them married, we would have had a pie family pastor come in for a private ceremony. But you haven’t, because you don’t really want them to get married.” Limestone sets her bowl down again. “I know how you work, guys.”
“Oh?” Igneous replies, a bit louder. “And how doth we work, daughter of mine?”
“We’re a pie family. Rock farming is in our blood. Rocks are our lives and our livelihood. You taught me this when I was a young filly.” Limestone gestures at me. “Other ponies don’t get rocks like we do. If you bring some outside family into our clan, or worse yet some outside family with their own traditions and culture, like, I dunno, some group of apple farmers or something…”
“Limestone Holder Pie!” Cloudy rebukes. “Mind thine tongue!”
“Oh, sure, pin it on me!” Limestone rolls her eyes. “Or better yet, prove me wrong. Go fetch somepony who can marry my sister and the dick and do it right now!”
“Limestone!” Igneous barks. “That is enough!”
Something warm and taut brushes up against my side. I look over to see Marble gently pressing up against me, her belly pushing into my coat, looking completely deaf to the outside world.
“He’s an apple! Do I really have to be the one to say it?” Limestone fires back. “You can make him be like a pie all you like, but he’s got his own family, his own clan, and none of the rest of them are like us at all! They don’t get us, they won’t get us, they’ll just barge on into our lives with their own traditions and completely overwhelm how we do things until it’s like we aren’t pies at all!”
Marble presses up against me a little more insistently. I know her body language - I know what she wants. It’s what I want, especially the more she’s pressed up against me like this, but this argument’s too serious for me to just sneak off for—
“They don’t need to be like us.” Igneous sighs, frustrated. “Thou art acting like we art at odds with Macintosh’s family.”
“Oh, you’re not fighting them! You’re just afraid. You want the dick—” Limestone seethes, gesturing at me again. “—to be part of the family but shut the rest of the apple family off from our lives, but you know that’s an unreasonable thing to want. But for whatever reason, you don’t want to just tell them that they aren’t like us and we aren’t one big happy family and won’t ever really be one!”
A hoof drapes itself around my shoulder, pulling me closer to her. I can feel Marble’s breath tickling my ear, feel her massive belly practically envelop my side, full and ripe and begging to be explored in the most primal way possible.
I want to explore it. I want to explore it so bad. I want to explore all of Marble’s body, laying her down like I did so many months ago and savoring every inch of her beautiful body, especially that ripe, fertile, massive belly and her heavenly, quaking hind lips.
“Is this really what you want, though? Is this really what you think is for the best, just having everything in limbo forever?” Limestone jabs a hoof at Igneous. “Pretend everything is fine and being too polite and stiff to say no for good, even while my sister keeps ballooning out because of the dick who stuffed himself in her, a dick who’s so eager to get with a mare that it gets erect at the dinner table?”
Limestone shoots a grin at me and smirks. Igneous and Cloudy both turn to me and stare, faces morphing into nearly identical expressions of shock.
I swear to Celestia I have never sat down and placed my forehooves over my groin so fast in my entire life.
Marble teeters as I suddenly pull away, looking momentarily off balance before correcting herself. Her massive bulk wobbles slightly as she straightens up, sighs, turns to look at Limestone and opens her mouth.
“Don’t be jealous, Limestone.”
Limestone’s smirk vanishes. It’s replaced first by utter shock, then white-hot fury, then barely suppressed rage as she steps away from the dinner table, looking ready to either explode or lunge at Marble.
“I’m.” Limestone takes an exaggerated breath. “Going to weed out the east field. Excuse me.” Without another word, Limestone marches away from the table, jerks the front door open, stomps through and kicks it shut so hard I hear the hinges squeak.
Silence. I look back from Limestone’s exit to see Igneous and Cloudy still staring at me.
“I’m.” My voice cracks a little. “So sorry ‘bout that.”
Abruptly, Cloudy chuckles. My breath catches again as she readjust her classes and snorts good-naturedly. “‘Tis not entirely your fault. I thought I’d taught mine daughter better than to come on to company during dinner.”
“No, I…Well, I mean that too, but…”
“Macintosh. Marble.” Igneous cuts in, looking slightly less rattled and slightly more bemused. “It is obvious that thou art in no condition to help clear the table. Perhaps you two should alleviate yourselves of this curious affliction that seems to have washed over you?”
“Mmhmm.” Marble steps over to me and starts tugging at one of my forelegs, and I have to try and angle my body when I get up so that I'm blocking what has to be the sight of a rather inappropriate interest as much as possible.
“But…”
Cloudy’s eyes twinkle. “We were young once, too, and very much in love. Go! Attend to thine business. We will continue to exist by the time thou art presentable again.”
Marble tugs even harder, clearly not wanting me to get another word in edgewise. There’s nothing more I can do than offer a guilty smile as she half-drags me over to the stairs, before pushing her way in front of me and slowly clambering up the steps.
The view from here is incredible. I can see her wobble with every step, see her enormous belly sway with her motions as her softened rear jiggles, tail swishing this way and that to offer brief, teasing peeks of her glistening sex. Climbing the stairs feels like an eternity, mostly because with every step, every wobble and every tail swish, the urge to just pin her down and fuck her on the staircase grows stronger. I’ve got no doubt that however noticeable my “interest” was at dinner, it’s getting more noticeable by the second.
“Mac?” Marble says softly as she surmounts the final step and picks her way into her austere bedroom, her pussy practically leading me by the nose.
“Eeyup?” I can’t hide the waver in my voice as I feel my cock twitch.
“I need you inside me.”
Stopping myself from cumming then and there takes more effort than it should. So does having to simply watch as she heaves herself onto her bed and, in one sudden and ungainly movement, flops back onto her bed, making the mattress creak and her own prodigious form bounce. Her hind legs spread to reveal her moist slit, and I can tell that we’re both begging for the same thing.
My job, however, is more difficult even than impressing Igneous: I need to do the proper thing and let her climax first, however long that takes. And I've tried using my muzzle once, and while she liked it we both know that she prefers the proper thing. So I brace myself, try to think as nonsexual thoughts as possible and grab the sides of her heaving grey mountain for balance as I angle my throbbing shaft and press the broad head up against her slit.
Her breath audibly catches. Her pussy winks. I can feel her body tremble under my touch, like it’s been disrupted by a tiny earthquake of pleasure.
Then I pull my hips back a little before slamming them forward, full force.
I can just barely see her forehoof whip around to cover her mouth, turning what would otherwise be a delighted squeal into a muffled whimper of pleasure. Not giving her time to think on the issue, I pull back and slam my cock forward again. I’m not even up to the medial ring, but from the way she reacts it’s as if i’ve just stuffed her to the hilt in one fluid thrust.
Marble’s body twists a little, writhing as I start to get into a rhythm, pounding at her hard enough to make her body shiver with every thrust. Marble’s muffled whimpers and moans eventually mix with the slapping of my hips against her, and the air takes on the faint scent of her unchecked lust. She’d be hotboxing the room with her arousal for sure if the door was shut, and while I know I shouldn't have left the door open before I followed the swollen goddess in here, I can’t bring myself to go and shut it now. I couldn’t pull myself away if I tried, really; it’s like she’s gotten so enormous in passion and girth that it’s pulling at me like gravity, locking me permanently in orbit around the great, grey planet Marble.
A planet begging to be colonized.
I pick up the pace a little. The medial ring keeps slamming up against her sex, now, battering at her with every thrust. Her body jolts and squeals, her pink walls contracting and squeezing as she writhes, trying to milk my shaft for every inch. It’s a struggle, holding on while her swollen frame is desperately trying to tug me over the edge, but I'm not going to yield before she does. It’s so obvious that she needs release. Week after week, every time I visit for as long as I can, she’s always desperate to have me in her, ravenous to be filled in every way possible.
And I’m going to fill her for sure, I just need a little…more…
Marble’s muffled squeal is extra loud when, with one particularly forceful thrust and an audible pop, I slam the medial ring right in. The squeezing in her body is nearly counteracted by some alternating current, a churning that feels like her pelvic muscles are working themselves into a mush with desire.
As I get closer and closer to hilting myself, I can feel her stretch wider and wider. The fact that she’s able to take so much cock inside her, over and over again, and do it without complaint is a miracle in and of itself — though I suppose it’ll also be good practice for when it’s finally time to give birth. I’d argue she has perfect, child-bearing hips for it, so it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, but every part of her body is pretty much perfect anyway. Especially now, from her blushing face to those soft, wide hips and everything in between, especially that towering, wobbling testament to our copulation—
Marble’s breathing starts growing shaky and uneven, and her eyes start to bulge. I’m nearly up to the hilt now, and she still hasn’t climaxed, so I shift my position a little bit, getting at a slightly more awkward angle to make sure I rub up against her clit as much as possible while I hammer away at her. The second I start putting extra attention on her little nub, a spasm rocks through her body, sending a squeal out her lips and a heave through her gut.
I go deeper, still working her clit as much as possible, even if it means getting at a more awkward angle still. Attractive as it is - and it is insanely attractive - Marble’s girth has gotten to the point where it’s starting to interfere with several sexual positions, and it’s getting increasingly hard to not bear uncomfortably down on her while I’m going to town. Because I do, inevitably, go to town, because the bigger she gets the hotter she gets, unquestionably, and with my inhibitions down I can finally admit that I want to fuck Marble forever and ever, impregnate her whenever and wherever i can, enjoy her body no matter how lithe or how swollen it is, to claim—
My hilt slams up against her pussy as I finally squeeze all the way inside her, and she brings her other hoof up to cover her mouth as she climaxes.
It’s still not enough to fully muffle her scream of delight. Her massive body twitches, shudders as fluid spurts out of her, staining the bedsheets and washing over my cock as her climax completely overwhelms her. I start losing track of how many times she spasms, how many little surges of her juices squirt and leak out of her as she lets loose, because the room’s smelling more and more of sex and my entire cock is deep and throbbing in her and it’s getting harder and harder to—
Then my body forces the issue for me. There’s one brief, fleeting moment where i realize trying to hold back any longer would be futile, and my whole body relaxes, gives way, accepts the inevitable.
Then pleasure completely overwhelms me.
Finally, the haze of pleasure diminishes, and I can feel myself start to come to my senses. It’s a bit of a relief, like taking a breath of air after being underwater for too long, but the coming down almost feels painful.
I haven’t had an orgasm that good in at least a month, probably even longer. It was…I feel…
Eeyeah…
A light giggle, somewhere below me, brings me back to my senses again. It’s marble, naturally, but a lot closer than I remember her being; a lot warmer, too, pressing against me more than I remembered during coitus. I practically feel my spine arching, as if along the curve of her—
Oh. I must have relaxed too much, flopped down on her after…
Ohhhhhhhhh…
Gingerly, I try to extricate myself from her. I can feel that i’ve softened up a little, but it still isn’t easy: big is big, and I’m big enough that trying to pull free from Marble’s cave takes a little more tugging than I’m accustomed to. But finally, with a wet slapping sound, I manage to pull free, step back a little and…
“Oh, dear.”
“Mmm?” Marble moans out with a giggle.
“I, uh…I’ll have to apologize to your ma about the sheets.”
Marble giggles again, one hoof idly rubbing her swollen stomach. “Did the cum leak out?”
“It looks like I spilled gooey paint all over this side of the bed.”
“Mmmmm, naughty~” Marble cooes. “You’ve been waiting all week, haven’t you?”
“Eeyup.” I can’t help but chuckle. “Felt like you did, too.”
“Mmhmm.” Marble beams, craning her neck around her stomach to get a better view of me. “It gets hard to hold on, though. Sometimes I think of you pounding away inside of me and catch myself grinding my hindquarters against something that feels even vaguely you-shaped. Stallions have it so easy.”
“Not when I’m trying to save myself for you, it isn’t. I have to be careful of where my hooves are all the time whenever somepony brings you up in a conversation.”
“Oooh, you want me that badly?”
“Eeyup.”
Marble’s face, already flush with exertion, reddens a little more. “Even when my body’s like…this?”
Struck by a sudden impulse, I lean over and give her dome a gentle kiss, right on the nub. “Especially when you’re body’s like this. You know that.”
“Mmhmm.” Marble’s tail swishes. “Um…Limestone doesn’t seem to be taken with much of anypony, and I think Maud’s into mares, and Pinkie is…Pinkie.”
“Eeyup.” I pause, mouth still hovering over her swollen belly. “Why?”
“Well…mom and dad want a family. With grandkids.” Marble writhes a little. “No matter how awkward things get about the family, and I know they keep arguing with Limestone about that…mom and dad both told me that they’ll always be happy to have a grandchild. They’ll always be happy that we’re…together, and making one together, regardless of how the pie family business turns out. So don’t ever feel like we shouldn’t be together, okay?”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Eeyup. Okay. I’ll remember they told you that.”
“Plus…” Marble’s eyelids flutter a bit deviously. “If none of the other pie sisters look like they’ll settle down, I think mom and dad are going to want more grandkids. A lot of grandkids.”
I can feel my face flushing. “Oh.”
“Mmhmm.” Marble giggles again. “So, um…we should get more practice in.”
An amused snort forces its way out of me. “Eeyup. When…?”
“Mmm…can’t think of any reason not to start right now—”
Marble’s sentence is abruptly cut off by a loud, insistent growl from her stomach. Both of us turn to stare; when Marble looks back at me, she seems more than a little sheepish.
“Seems like that’s one reason” I reply, leaning up to kiss her cheek.
“Mmhmm…” Marble shifts, squeaking slightly. “I, um…don’t suppose you brought another apple crumble with you? If I’m going to keep my energy up for practice, I might need to practice eating for two as well.”
