Jungle Fever

“Scooch over, will ya?”

Pound Cake looked up from his phone, a bit annoyed but not altogether surprised to his sister standing beside his bed. Being twins, they had always shared pretty much everything, from toys to food to their room, and sometimes even a bed. Some people found his relationship with his sister a bit odd, and Pound tended to agree, but there was just something special about the bond between twins. They could practically read each other's minds, so being a bit close and open with each other wasn't as crazy to them as it seemed to outside onlookers.

Pound still wished that his sister would stop prancing about their room in just panties and a big t-shirt. Even he had to admit that was just a bit weird.

“Uh… Is there something wrong with your bed?” Even as he resisted, Pound did as was requested and shimmied over to make room for his sister. Like clockwork, Pumpkin flopped onto the mattress beside her brother, curiously holding a small bundled towel close to her body. “Do I even want to know what that is?”

“I spilled my skin cream all over my sheets like an idiot. Had to throw them in the wash,” said Pumpkin, answering the first question while entirely ignoring the second. “They won't be dry for ages, so I figured we could share tonight. Just like the good ol’ days, right?”

“Right…” Naturally a skeptic, particularly where his sister was concerned, Pound had his doubts. He kept them to himself, at least for the time being. “Just keep your legs over on your half, okay? You always kick me when we share a bed.”

“Cross my heart and hope to fly. Thanks a lot, little bro.”

“Three minutes. You're older by three minutes.”

“And I am never gonna let you forget it!” The two shared a little chuckle before a peaceful little silence descended upon them both. Never one for peace and quiet, Pumpkin didn't take long to fill the dead air. “You see Auntie Pinkie lately?”

“I think she's visiting her sisters down south,” said Pound with a shrug. “Hope she gets back before we go back to Uni. Haven't seen her in ages.”

“Yeah, same. With her away and Dad still out, feels like we've only got half of Sugarcube Corner.” Pumpkin paused for just a second, and then, her tone shifted. Pound was familiar with this. It was the energy Pumpkin took on when she was up to no good. “Speaking of the business… Mom closed early tonight, didn't she?”

“Yeah. It was pretty dead, and she said she was meeting with someone about maybe collabing.” Pound narrowed his gaze at his sister. “What about it?”

“Yeah, I think I saw who she was meeting with. Some zebra dude, I saw him on my way in.” Pumpkin’s lips spread into an impish grin. “He's pretty hot.”

“And here we go…”

“What, I'm just saying! If I was gonna risk it all for some tall, dark and handsome, it'd probably be for someone like him.”

“Someone with stripes, you mean.”

“Well, duh. You know I have a thing for zeebs. Speaking of…” Pumpkin grabbed her bundled towel and unrolled it. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was a dildo that rolled out and fell onto the bed. Made of thick, dark rubber, the color and shade made it obvious that the toy was modelled after a zebra, rather than an Equestrian man. “Do you mind? I'm, like, so wound up from finals, haven't had time to blow off steam.”

“You want to fap in my bed? What is wrong with you?”

“If you saw the guy that Mom is ‘meeting’ with, you'd probably wanna do the same.”

“Uh, no?” said Pound, rolling his eyes. His sister did love to tease him, so he was mostly used to this sort of thing. “I'm not gay, dummy.”

“Pfft. Okay, little bro. Whatever you say.” Pumpkin held up her big, floppy zebra dildo and wiggled it in her brother's general direction. “I'll clean up my mess after. Hell, I'll do a whole load of laundry for you. So can I go ahead or are you gonna be weird about it?”

“I don't get how I'm being weird, but… fine. Just… keep it quiet.”

“Thanks, little bro!”

It didn't take long for Pumpkin to roll her panties down to her ankles and plunge her toy deep into her virgin folds, much to Pound’s general discomfort. Truth was, this wasn't too odd for them, either. Pumpkin was a free spirit, something she picked up from growing up around her Auntie Pinkie. She never had much concern for privacy or decency, and Pound had seen much more of his sister than the average brother because of it. He never went out of his way to see her naked, but it was generally pointless to make a fuss whenever Pumpkin would exit the shower without a towel, or spend a little private time with her vibrators. Just something Pound had gotten used to over the years.

“So, you think Dad knows?” asked Pumpkin. Pound cocked a brow, confused by the question. “That he’s a cuck, I mean. That Mom is getting some zebra dick on the side.”

“Can you knock it off?” Pound rolled his eyes. “How can you say stuff like that? That's our mom you're talking about.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that you subscribe to society’s puritan views on sex. Sex is nothing to be ashamed of, and there’s nothing weird or wrong about talking about it.” Pumpkin bit her lip to stifle a moan as her toy reached particularly deep. Her brother could feel the heat and lust wafting from her, and he did all he could to ignore it. Pumpkin was unfortunately making that quite difficult. “But seriously, think he knows?”

“Pump, we don’t know. Y’know why we don’t know? Cause there’s nothing to know!”

“I’ll tell you what we know. We know that Mom’s here, and that Dad isn’t,” said Pumpkin. She stuffed her toy about as deep as it would go, and sat herself up on her elbows to properly look at her brother. “We know that she’s talking to that hot jungleboy, and—”

“Whoa, dude, I don’t think you can say that,” said Pound. “Isn’t that, like, offensive?”

“I’ve asked a couple, and they all said they’re cool with it. Besides, the zebras are going to be ruling the world in like ten years anyway. When that time comes, they’ll tell us what not to say. But, whatever, the point is, I didn’t hear his car leave,” said Pumpkin. “It’s, like, 11:30 at night. What, you think they’re in there trading recipes?”

“Uh, seeing as that’s exactly what they said they’re doing, I’m gonna say… yeah?”

“Geez, my little brother is such a doofus. The only way they’re baking is if he gives her a creampie, if you know what I mean.” Pumpkin fell back onto her back, pumping her cunt with her plastic zebra cock. “I hope so, anyway. Can you just imagine Mom with a zebra baby? That’d be so hot.”

“Dude, you’re being so weird about this. Just… Chill, okay? Mom is not cheating on Dad, no matter how much you seem to want her to be. Freak.”

“I hope he doesn’t know. I wanna be there when he finds out,” sighed Pumpkin. “Think he’d cry? I bet he’d cry. God, Mom is so fucking lucky!”

“Y’know what?” Pound swung his legs out of bed, turning away from his sister completely. “I’m gonna go see if Rumble still wants to hang. Don’t wait up, and you’d better clean my sheets in the morning or—”

Moans floated to Pound’s ears, and, much to his dismay, they weren’t coming from behind him. Instead, the sound seemed to be coming from just ahead, on the other side of the wall that separated his room from his mother’s. He froze, hoping, begging, praying to God that there was another explanation for what he heard, but one never presented itself to him. What he got instead were barely-stifled moans, low grunts of exertion, and the creaking of his mother’s bed as it buckled and bumped against the wall.

“Hm… Pretty sure that’s not Dad,” said Pumpkin with a smirk. “Still saying we don’t know anything?”

“M-maybe he left. Maybe she’s, like… You know.” Pound cleared his throat awkwardly. “Like, just by herself.”

“Bro, just face facts. The sooner you accept the fact that Mom is a cheating snowbunny slut, the better. Here, look at it this way, there’s two possibilities. Either Dad knows that Mom is getting her guts rearranged by a better man, and he’s sticking with her, or he has no clue. Either way, sounds like everyone’s happy.”

“That's awful. You're awful.” Pound paused, straining his ears in spite of himself. Pumpkin was wrong, he just knew it. “What is your obsession with zebras, anyway? It feels kinda racist.”

“Dude. Dude? Dude.” Pumpkin giggled. “They’re better. It's just the truth. If you could just see one in action, then…”

Pumpkin stopped, as though a lightbulb had gone off. She dropped her dildo and leaped out of Pound’s bed, rushing quickly to her own. But, before Pound could get too comfortable in his own bed, Pumpkin returned with her cellphone in tow, and a devious grin on her face. She slid right back into position, even a bit closer than before, and shoved the screen in her brother's face.

“Um…” Pound arched his brow, thoroughly confused by his sister's antics. “What?”

“Think Mom still has that nanny cam in her room? It won't have sound, but…” Pumpkin maneuvered through her apps, letting out a triumphant little shout when she managed to recall the password for the video app. “It’s loading now. C’mon, let’s watch together. It’ll be fun.”

Pound didn’t really want to see what was going on in his mother’s room, but he knew his sister very well. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Pumpkin was going to let this go. So, as was often the case, the easier solution was to just appease her, and go along with her madness. Begrudgingly, Pound slid up a bit closer to his sister, and leaned in to get a view of the cam footage.

Hopefully, whatever they saw—if anything at all—would be over before long.

“S-slow down! My kids are home!”

As well-intentioned as her request was, the unfortunate truth was that Mrs. Cake didn't mean it in the slightest. She didn't want Zuki to slow down. She wouldn't be able to handle it if he slowed down. It was shameful, but Mrs. Cake couldn't recall ever feeling pleasure so intense, so addicting, so animalistic and primal. It was wrong. She knew it. If her husband knew, it would surely break his heart.

Strong, striped hands held her ankles open in a wide V-shape, while the absolute specimen of pure masculinity gave the poor, overworked woman what she had been craving for so long. Deep, intense thrusts sent lances of electric pleasure through Mrs. Cake’s core. Despite being a thick, soft, cushioned woman, each thrust shook Mrs. Cake’s entire body, almost too strong. She could feel her lover all the way in her stomach, damn near busting a hole through her chest. It almost hurt.

But Mrs. Cake’s lustful moans removed any and all doubt as to how good it really felt.

“You want me to slow down?” whispered Zuki, not doing anything of the sort as he asked. “You want slow, then call your limp dick husband. Is that what you w—”

“No!” It came out a bit more quickly and desperately than Mrs. Cake intended, but she couldn't help it. Just the thought of this beautiful zebra cock leaving her was a nightmare. She loved Carrot to death, obviously, but there was just no comparing to striped, Zebrican perfection. “Please, Zuki, please…”

“Please what?” Zuki held Mrs. Cake steady, positively stuffing her guts and entirely scrambling her brains. Her hair was a mess, and sweat clung to her plump, velveteen body. Her eyes were half-lidded, struggling to focus on anything. It took a firm, but gentle, swat to the face to snap Mrs. Cake back to her senses. “I said ‘please what'?”

With a flurry of life and energy, Mrs. Cake shot forward and wrapped her arms around the back of Zuki’s neck. With what felt like the last of her strength, she pulled him in close. She looked him in the eye with sudden clarity and purpose, and she held him so close that their noses touched. It wasn't love that flared between the two, but rather, a fiery, savage animal attraction the likes of which Mrs. Cake had never felt in her life. She didn't want this, she needed this.

“Please, you big sexy beast,” she breathed. Mrs. Cake latched her lips onto Zuki’s, anything to get a taste of the man that made her feel better than any man before. When they broke apart, connected by a sloppy strand of saliva, there was an unmatched passion in the married woman's eyes. “Please… Get me fucking pregnant…”

Zuki didn't need a word more of encouragement. With all of his weight and strength, he pressed Mrs. Cake forward, effectively folding her in half. He loomed over her, terrifying and enticing all at once, and with nowhere to go, no way to escape, Mrs. Cake could only take the pounding she was given.

Any concerns about being heard seemed to be gone from Mrs. Cake’s mind; Her moans and squeals bounced off the walls, intercut with loud, wet, fleshy plaps and slaps from Zuki slamming into Mrs. Cake's meaty ass and thighs. The air was so hot and heavy, so thick she could barely even breathe, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered just then, nothing but the big, fat cock that was making her cum.

And cum, she did. It hit like a load of bricks, so intense that Mrs. Cake nearly passed out. Instead, she grit her teeth, grabbed a tight hold of Zuki, and squealed through her clenched jaw as wave after wave after incredible, impossible wave of pleasure crashed onto her like the tide against the shore. He didn't stop, didn't pause, didn't even slow down. He just kept drilling her, slamming her married cunt, claiming her promised pussy all for himself.

It wasn't until he made Mrs. Cake cum again did Zuki reach his limit; With renewed vigor, he pressed the married woman down even further, and he slammed every last inch of his cock into Mrs. Cake’s hungry, desperate, cheating pussy. He bottomed out as he finally came, shooting thick, stringy ropes of the most sticky cum in long, powerful bursts. Each pulse from Zuki’s heavy nuts felt like a sandblaster filling her womb, claiming yet another fine Equestrian pussy in the name of Zebrica. After filling Mrs. Cake to the brim—she would swear she'd gained five pounds from all of the spunk—Zuki peeled his sweaty, sticky, muscular body from Mrs. Cake and sat at the foot of the bed with a smirk.

“Liked it?” he asked, very much so rhetorically. Mrs. Cake wasn't ready for words yet, and only managed a shaky, unintelligible mumble. Good enough for Zuki. “How long til your husband gets back?”

“M-morning. His train gets in… at 5…” wheezed Mrs. Cake. “Can't stay… He might be early…”

“That's fine. Probably a bad idea to stay anyway.” Zuki looked back and admired his handiwork. A satisfied woman, filled to bursting with his seed. What more could a zebra want? “Is tomorrow the day?”

“No… I can't… not while the kids are over…”

“He's gonna find out eventually. You love him?”

“Of course.”

“Then you better tell him before he finds out on his own. Trust me, it'll be better coming from you than if he sees what I do to you when he's away.” Zuki stood up and stretched, cracking his neck as he pulled in his jeans and shirt. “Got anything to drink?”

“Carrot keeps beer in the fridge. Bottom shelf. Help yourself…”

“Thanks. See you next time.” Zuki made for the door, stopping with one hand in the knob. “Hey. That daughter of yours. How old is she?”

“Her and her brother turned nineteen last week.” Mrs. Cake propped herself up on her elbows, still not entirely certain what planet she was on. “Why?”

Zuki smirked, opening the door and stepping out into the fresh air.

“No reason.”

“Holy shit, dude.”

Pound didn't say anything. How could he, after what he had just witnessed? Everything that Pumpkin had said was true. Their loving, caring mother, the matriarch of their wholesome family business, was a cheating, race-traitor harlot. A cheating snowbunny slut, just as Pumpkin had predicted. But how? How could she do this to their dad? He turned to his sister, where she would certainly be as shocked and horrified as he was.

Instead, he caught an eyeful of his sister manically mauling her pussy with her big zebra dildo.

“Holy shit!” Pumpkin said again. “Tell me with a straight face that wasn't the hottest thing you've ever seen!”

“Ugh… Pump, that was…” Pound grimaced. “That was so messed up. We have to tell… Wait. Where are you going?”

“Where do you think, dweeb?” Pumpkin was already out of bed, halfway to the door without even bothering to put on her panties. “I'm gonna go see if jungleboy has another round in him. I'll try not to keep you up.”

“Okay… and about my laundry tomorrow—?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Night, little bro!”

Like a whisper in the wind, she was gone. It was just as well, given the circumstances. Pound waited until the door was closed and he was sure that his sister had left before he checked to confirm what he already knew. He pulled back the covers and looked down in his boxers; the fabric clung to his skin a bit thanks to the thin, watery load of cum he had spurted out during his viewing. It was quite runny, not very potent, and, as much as it begrudged Pound to admit that he noticed, nothing at all like the load that the zebra dumped into his mother.

“Oh man,” sighed Pound. “I'm so cooked…”