Pick Your Perspective: Between a Cowgirl and a Diva

You woke up to beautiful blonde hair inches away from your face, and the familiar warmth of embracing your wife in bed. There was no urgency to leave and do anything in particular soon, and she was still asleep, so you chose to take in as many details in the moment as you could. Your naked bodies were so close there was no room to move, and the erection you now noticed was poking her in the butt; still, the sensation underneath your left hand quickly climbed over the others. It was resting on her swollen belly, over your child, and you smiled even more when you remembered impending fatherhood, parenthood, with her.

You didn’t notice exactly when Applejack woke up, but you noticed when she started stretching out her arms and legs before turning over to face you, or trying to turn over. Your hand snaked around to help lift her, and she settled for lying on her back and turning her head to meet you. Maybe the two of you whispered “good morning” to each other, or something else, but you couldn’t remember, and you both knew what the other meant anyway. You gave her a quick kiss before helping her to a sitting position, and you got out of bed to stretch. By the time you looked behind yourself, she was already sitting on the edge of the bed, and lifted herself off of it with only a light grunt.

Your clothes were in the same wardrobe, on her side, and you walked around to open it. You put on boxers and then just a T-shirt, she panties and a bra before just her button-up shirt; she didn’t bother with the lower buttons and tugging it down, instead tying it up to rest over her bosom and little else. Rarity had offered to make her maternity clothing, a few maternity outfits, and finally a maternity outfit, but Applejack had only thanked her and called it hooey, not that you were complaining. There were a few baby outfits in your wardrobe courtesy of Rarity, however, and the thought of how they’d look with someone finally inside them made you smile again.

She rolled her eyes a little as you helped her down the stairs, but didn’t complain in any other way. A few weeks ago, she’d stepped down the staircase as quickly as she could, which was still quite fast, just to prove a point; it had nearly given you a heart attack, and you’d made her promise to not do it again.

It was the weekend, so Granny was playing bingo with her friends, Apple Bloom was at a sleepover, and Big McIntosh was doing something; the two of you were the only people home, now reminded of that fact, and it meant you were left to fend for yourselves when it came to food. You’d apparently slept right through breakfast without anyone to wake you, and the Apples were a family of early risers, now yours too, so they actually had lunch at noon and dinner before sunset.

“Hey, Applejack, want to go out for lunch?” Ever since you’d been married, you’d not taken her on any dates. She’d never complained, and both of you enjoyed saving your money, but why not? She almost seemed shocked by the idea.

“What’s wrong with my cooking?” She started placing her hands on her hips, and preparing that look of incredulity. You just kept smiling, and she knew you would.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” you gently took one of her hands into yours, “but we rarely eat out anymore, and only we’re here. We can just do something different today.” You now remembered taking Apple Bloom and her friends to some children’s restaurant a few times, but fast food with Applejack and dozens of loud children was hardly a date. If you wanted to get any time in town without children for the next few years, one look at Applejack’s bump told you that time needed to happen soon.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling mighty peckish for a lot of different things.” That incredulous look was gone, and her gaze wandered, a sure sign she was at least a little embarrassed about her cravings. One time, you’d walked into the kitchen from the fields and caught her eating every fruit in the kitchen that wasn’t an apple. You of course hadn’t cared, but had chuckled when she’d tried to hide it with her body like a crime scene, and she was still a little sensitive about it.

“We can just go to a buffet. How’s that sound?” She thought for a moment before responding. “Alright.”

Both of you remembered more clothing was needed to leave the house, and shoes, so you went upstairs to collect yours and hers, slipping into yours before heading back down the stairs. They were a little too skimpy for leaving the farm, and she hadn’t given you any particular direction, so you left her blue jean shorts upstairs in favour of a skirt she could probably still wear.

Once you were back downstairs, you kneeled and held her skirt open at the floor for her as she gently threaded her left foot through, and then her right; you slowly pulled them up until she could grab them, but stayed kneeling.

“You enjoyin’ the view down there?” She smirked. It wasn’t as if she could see to button the skirt anyway.

“You know it.” You helped her with the skirt, and gave her belly a quick kiss before quickly standing with a flourish, not at all obnoxiously flaunting your mobility compared to hers. She chuckled a little for no reason whatsoever.

Next, she sat down on the couch while you put her socks and shoes on for her. Once both of you were ready, you pulled the front door shut, not that you needed to lock it, and opened the truck door for Applejack before getting in yourself. You started the truck and took a glance at Winona’s dog house in the mirror before pulling away; the old girl would be just fine with plenty of food, water, and shade in this mild heat.

The drive into town was mostly uneventful. You tuned the radio to the local news station and let it run without much regard for what it was actually saying and took off. You did hear mention about some big concert nearby in a couple of days, but Applejack grunted and changed the station for some reason.

When you parked, you got out and walked around to open her door and help her out, but she beat you to it, and stuck her tongue out at you as she did so. “I ain’t made a glass, sugarcube.” She let you hold open the buffet’s front door for her, however.

There weren’t many people around, but you saw a fat guy and got an idea. You already hand your right hand resting on her side as both of you walked together to the front counter.

“You know what they say about every fat person, right?” You whispered, and she whispered in-turn. “What’s that?”

“Every fat person starts out as a cute little baby.” You were still whispering, and moved your hand from her hip to poke her belly with your right index finger for emphasis.

“You quit it!” She very nearly wasn’t whispering, and swatted away your hand. “We ain’t gonna raise no fatass. I don’t even want to think about something like that.” You didn’t apologize, but your grin told her that reaction’s what you wanted to see. “Jerk.” She added. You gave her a quick kiss on the side of her head, and she was clearly trying hard not to smile.

After ordering your drinks, you look around the mostly-empty restaurant to find an ideal table, and choose one closest to the food. You collect some items for yourself, and some for her in case she feels like taking from your plate or forgets anything, before sitting down again.

You don’t at all notice the tour bus now parked in front of the building, but did notice when three colorful women passed by, one even bigger than Applejack. You felt a little guilty looking at her for a moment, but you didn’t have wandering eyes, because it just so happened that Applejack came to stand in front of her. You continued to just watch.

They glared at each other for a moment, you have no clue why, and then Applejack spoke. “Scuse me, I’m after that slice a cake there, Adagio.” There was a single slice of chocolate cake on a plate behind the protective glass, on the far side of the display, and that woman’s name was Adagio. You swear you’d seen her somewhere beforehand.

“Well that’s a shame, because I walked over here to get that.” You think “waddled” would’ve been a better word to use.

With their intentions stated, both of them reached for it, and both of them got in the others way. Neither of them could reach it standing normally, neither of them seemed to want to turn her back to the other, so their sides were to the buffet case as they leaned in. Two heavenly bodies collided. You started chewing your lip, and they continued glaring at each other. Enjoying this was wrong, as was envy for a slice of cake; you should break it up, whatever it was.

You were so close you didn’t need to raise your voice. “Just let her have it, Applejack.” She looked at you like you’d insulted Celestia.

“Little Miss Popstar here thinks she can just waltz in and take whatever she wants. Well I ain’t standin’ for it.” Applejack stuck out a finger accusingly.

“You can barely stand at all.” Adagio added.

Applejack was stubborn, but this wasn’t like her. It was just a piece of cake, and she hardly even liked cake. Before Applejack sent back another insult, you grabbed her attention again.

“Applejack, here, you can have my slice; it’s not a big deal.” You’d taken the penultimate piece from the same display a minute ago, and was holding the plate in your hand for emphasis.

After glaring at Adagio for a final time, Applejack harrumphs and walks away. Adagio and the other two sat somewhere you couldn’t see them. You’d have to ask Applejack just what that had been later today.

All in all, it was a pleasant, and thereafter uneventful, afternoon with your lovely wife.