Saddle Up, 2024

by Some Leech

Braeburn and Cow Ponies

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“There he is!” Braeburned exclaimed, lowering his cards to wave at the bulky stallion trotting in his direction. “Bushel, you old so-and-so, how’ve ya been?”

Bushel grunted as he pulled a chair up to the table and eased himself down. “‘S alright, I suppose. I ain’t too late, am I?”

Shaking his head, Brae smiled and cut the deck of cards he’d been fiddling with. “Not even a little! Me and the guys were just catchin’ up and waitin’ on ya!”

He turned as he deftly began dealing hands. Cormano sat to his left, Bushel had taken the seat directly across from him, and Happy Trails was on his right. He’d known the trio for years, ran into them on a nearly daily basis, and he considered them all trusted friends - sadly, it wasn’t often that they got to hang out and just relax. With how busy everypony was, what with their jobs and lives, he’d been looking forward to this game of poker for a long time.

“Y’all hear the gossip about Star Spur?” Happy Trails asked in a hushed tone.

Leaning over the table, Cormano conspiratorially glanced around the bustling saloon. “I heard he’s been getting frisky with that ‘ling at the pokey.”

Bushel leaned back askance. “You’re kiddin’ me.”

Ssssssh,” Cormano hissed. “Now I don’t know about y’all, but I think it’s a bunch of bologna.”

Laughing and feigning disinterest, Brae lifted and appraised his hand. “Y’all think he was bottomin’ or toppin’?”

The trio stared at him blankly for a moment before Bushel spoke. “Neither. Star’s as straight as an arrow.”

“You say that,” Brae began, peeking over his cards while lifting a brow, “but do you really mean it? Supposin’ this ain’t some tall tale, Ah reckon he was probably on the receivin’ end of things.”

Happy Trails leaned over and playfully elbowed Brae’s side. “Speakin’ from experience, partner?”

“Shucks, you of all stallion’s aught to know better,” Brae smoothly countered. “Didn’t hear you complaining about this li’l flank of mine on that train ride we had to Ponyville a few years back.”

“Yeah, if’n Ah hadn’t known better, Ah would’ve thought you preferred stallions,” Cormano chuckled.

Turning his gaze over to Cormano, Brae smirked. “Now don’t get teasin’ him too hard. ‘S far as Ah remember, you was ruttin’ my muzzle something fierce.”

Cormano went pale as he stiffened and reclined back in his chair. “N…no…”

It wasn’t a secret that the four of them had fooled around plenty of times before. While there were plenty of cute mares in Appleloosa, the same couldn’t be said for the countryside or farmland around the rural town - as such, it wasn’t all that uncommon for stallions to blow off steam while they only had one another for company. Cormano and Happy Trails, in spite of their desperate attempts to claim they were straight, couldn’t say they hadn’t enjoyed a few wild, gay flings of their own, but there wasn’t anything wrong with that.

Brae’s eyes flicked over to Bushel as Cormano and Happy Trails began relentlessly teasing one another. There weren’t many stallions in town that he hadn’t worked his charm on, although the hulking stud was a surprisingly tough nut to crack. Was it wrong that he wanted to see what the big guy had to offer? Possibly. Did that stop him from wanting to put another notch on his belt? Absolutely not - if anything, it acted as an incentive.

Lowering his gaze and lifting his forehoof, he studied his cards. “Ante’s five bits.”

Everypony at the table, including himself, tossed a few coins onto the velvety surface before picking up their respective hands. Joking around was all well and good, but they were there for a reason. It may have been a bit underhoofed on his part, but he had something up his nonexistent sleeve for this particular evening.

“Ah think I’ll up it by another five,” he noted, flipping another five bits onto the table.

Though Happy Trails folded, Bushel matched and Cormano raised. It may’ve been a bit early to say things were going to work out the way he’d planned, but it was off to a good start. Keeping his cool and wearing his best poker face, he called and continued the game.

The first round ended in a loss for him, as did the third and the fourth while the cider flowed and everypony loosened up. For all intents and purposes, the stallions were having a great time, joking around and talking about whatever came to mind, although one of them had surreptitiously ordered regular apple juice for himself. If Brae was going to pull this off, which he very much hoped he would, he’d need a clear head.

Dang,” Brae sighed, throwing his cards onto the table, “ya got me again.”

Snickering and shaking his head, Bushel reached out and pulled his winnings over to himself. “Gotta say, your game is real sloppy tonight. You even got enough bits for another ante?”

Brae’s slickened pucker twitched at the question. He didn’t have enough bits, only having two left in his saddlebag, and his friends knew it. They’d all agreed to only bring a certain amount of coin with them, intending to keep the game mostly for fun, although they hadn’t mentioned anything about bartering.

“Well?” Bushel smugly pressed.

Pushing himself and his chair back, Brae lifted and rested a hind leg on the table. “Ah don’t, ya ought to realize that, but ah’m thinking ah’d like to keep playin’.”

Bushel’s grin wavered as his eyes narrowed. “How you figure that.”

“Oh, ya know…” Brae trailed off as he opened his mouth, extended his tongue, and stroked the air before his muzzle.

“Oh for - Brae, you know I don’t play for that team,” Bushel harrumphed.

Yet,” Brae corrected. “C’mon, don’t tell me you ain’t curious.”

Swallowing hard, Happy Trails fidgeted in place. “He…he is pretty dang good…”

Brae flashed his teeth while crossing his forelegs over his chest. “See? Wouldn’t hurt to broaden your horizons, Bushel - that is, unless you’re yella…”

And there it was, the trump card he’d been holding for the entire afternoon. Bushel was many things, but a coward he was not. The provocation was a bold move, particularly since the big lug had already downed a few pints, but it was worth the risk. After all the times Brae had caught the beefcake eyeing him, sneaking glances when he didn’t think anypony was looking, he felt pretty sure the unwavering facade of heterosexuality was just that - a facade.

“Be honest, you really just want a roll with me ~ don’t ya?” Bushel inquired.

“Oh ah’d give ya more than a roll,” Brae hummed. “Just don’t blame me if ya come and ask me for seconds…”

O…or thirds,” Cormano quietly stammered.

More confident than ever, Brae slipped his forehooves behind his head. “So what’d’ya say, Bushel? Wanna keep runnin’ that luck of yours and let me in on another hand, or would ya rather get a nice, long look at my backside as a saunter out them there doors.”

Bushel knit his brow and locked eyes with Brae. “Buck it - why not…”

Struggling not to give an excited shout, Brae hastily shuffled the deck and dealt out hands. Bushel was hard to read, as stoic as ever, although it was obvious that Cormano and Happy Trails were pleased with the development ~ why wouldn’t they be. The winner of the match was going to get a night of the best sex this side of Canterlot - or so they all thought.

Brae didn’t even try to compete, folding nearly every hand or losing spectacularly, and his continual failures, paired with the sinful promises he’d been giving and come hither looks he’d dispensed to the trio, worked to devastating effect. Cormano and Happy Trails really stepped up their game, exchanging bits several times, but it was all for naught. Be it from fate, skill, luck, or some combination of the three, Bushel was the one who ended up as the champion.

Sweeping his winnings into his satchel, Bushel shook his head. “Can’t believe I’m doing this…”

“Doin’ what? Comin’ out on top with the poker or cummin’ while on top’a me?” Brae shamelessly mused.

“Colt, you better quit with that nonsense,” Bushel huffed, his cheeks darkening ever so slightly.

“You think ah’m bluffin?” Brae gasped while holding a hoof to his chest.

Pinching the bridge of his snout, Happy Trails groaned. “He ain’t bluffin’, Bushel. Ah just hope you know what you signed up for.”

Brae flashed his teeth and looked between the three. “You? Ah figured all y’all could have a swing at me - ya know, seein’ as how y’all really put me over a barrel.”

“Like that time in the shed behind Silver Star’s place?” Cormano tittered.

“Or…or like when we snuck into the old mine and he rode me so hard that - oh wait,” Happy Trails coughed as the blood drained from his face. “Y…y’all didn’t know about that…”

Happy as a hot in a sty, Brae got to his hooves and circled the table. “Got anywhere in mind, hun?”

Bushel’s jaw flapped noiselessly for a moment, he went beat red, and beads of sweat formed on his brow as the femcolt languidly drew nearer. “I…I was gonna ask -”

“‘Cause I was thinking right here,” Brae interrupted. Placing one forehoof on the poker table, he reared onto his hind legs and stepped up onto the sturdy surface. “Ragtime don’t mind ~ right?”

“Nope,” Ragtime, the bartender and one heck of a pianist, apathetically replied. “S’ long as y’all clean up after y’all’s selves, knock yourselves out.”

The hour was late, it was a weeknight, and most of the patrons had either wandered back to their homes or, in at least two cases, were asleep at the bar - with those factors combined, Brae couldn’t help but make a spectacle of popping Bushel’s straight cherry. Rolling onto his side and splaying his hind legs, while keeping his package covered with a forehoof, he presented his tush to Bushel.

“R…right here?!” Bushel wheezed.

Nodding and biting his lower lip, Brae slowly nodded. “Mm-hmm. How’s about you hop on up here and lemme get a good look at that mare-maker you’ve been hiding from me.”

Bushel faltered, appearing torn between excitement and trepidation, but his eyes never wavered from the supple, twitching pucker less than a yard from his face. His reaction was cute and very out of character for the large, ordinarily imposing stallion, although what he did next took everypony by surprise. Instead of trying to negotiate or even leaving, he hopped up and slammed his forehooves to either side of Brae’s slender waist.

I can’t believe I’m doing this…” he breathed, stepping forward and bringing his stallionhood to bear.

Brae had seen a good number of cocks in his day, but there weren’t many that could rival what Bushel was packing. The stud was hung like a beast, his dick positively dwarfing the comparatively minuscule colthood and coin purse beneath it, and he was rock hard. If the drinks hadn’t gotten to him, loosening his inhibitions, his prize for winning at poker sure as heck had.

Leaning forward and holding his thighs apart, Brae invitingly bucked his hips. “Giddy-up, hot stuff.”

As Bushel backed away, got into position, and slid into his depths, his eyes rolled back. Had he the slightest idea that he’d be getting a true stuffing, his hole forced open and pushed to its limit, he would have taken the time to warm himself up and prepare for the occasion - that being said, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the stretch. Arching his back and writhing against the table, sending cards falling to the floor, he moaned out in glee.

Hot dang - this was just what he’d been hoping for. Peeking down at himself, he watched inch after sublime inch of stallionhood sank into his ass. Having been around the block more than a hoofful of times, he could tell when a stud was enjoying himself - and Bushel was definitely enjoying himself. He laid there and waited, biding his time until the stud was fully hilted, then pulled off his stetson and used it to conceal his package.

“Ain’t too shabby ~ huh?” he cooed while clenching his entrance.

Bushel nodded slowly as he rolled his hips back, steadied himself, and experimentally gave his first true thrust. “N…no…”

“Now don’t be shy, big fella,” Brae urged, “go’on and be as rough as you - Mmmph!”

He’d fully anticipated Bushel taking it slow, considering it was his first time plowing a femcolt like himself and all, but he was proven dead wrong. Instead of going at a slow pace and savoring the experience, the brawny stud kicked things off with a bang - literally. The pitch of Brae’s voice went up an octave, sounding even more feminine than it ordinarily did, as his p-spot was pummeled by a deliciously girthy medial ring.

Hastily acclimating to the monumental intrusion, he smiled up at Bushel’s face. “R…right there.”

“Here?” Bushel quipped, angling his thrusts upwards and causing Brae to mewl in delight. “Heh - Happy Trails said your bitch-button was somewheres around here.”

Oh that cheeky rascal! Bushel might not have been all that experienced when it came to topping, but he must’ve taken what he’d heard from his pals to heart. He wasn’t just giving Brae a top-tier rutting, he was plowing the femcolt’s brains out. Each thrust was flawlessly delivered, being neither too fast nor too slow, and they were hitting all of the sweet spots.

B…buck me,” Brae brayed while his prick flopped about and drooled pre-cum under his hat.

Alright,” Bushel growled.

It was like a switch had been flipped. One second, Bushel had been plowing Brae at a steady pace - the next, he was going all out. The entire saloon was filled with a staccato of howls, grunts, the clatter of the poker table rocking, and colliding bodies. Everypony around, save for one of the two dozing stallions, was enrapt by the bawdy sight unfolding before them, although two of them weren’t content to spectate.

Crawling onto the table, Cormono came to rest beside Brae’s head. “Don’t forget about me.”

“Or me!” Happy Trails chirped. “I call sloppy seconds!”

Brae shook himself from his stupor and put himself to work as soon as he heard the pair speak. He’d said he’d handle all three of them, and he was a stallion of his word. Twisting his head and locking his lips around Cormano’s shaft, he brought one forehoof up to stroke Happy Trail’s length. He couldn’t care less how long they’d last or where they’d eventually blow their loads, because servicing the three in tandem, all in front of an audience, was utterly enthralling.

Cormano, Happy Trails, and Bushel had worked with one another for ages, but this was the first time they’d made a concerted effort of a decidedly amorous endeavor. Moving discordantly, each seeking to please themselves, they used Brae like an old fashioned nymphs du prairie. As for Brae himself, essentially being the village bicycle when it came to helping pent-up stallions get some relief, he couldn’t be happier.

It would have been painfully evident for anypony gazing upon the debaucherous scene that Brae was a professional. Managing to wrangle a trio of studs in tandem, the slutty little femcolt put his pouting lips, well-trained ass, and tender hooves to work like nopony’s business. Like something out of a dirty magazine or scandalous show, the quartet let their passion soar.

Mmmm…mmmm…mmmm,” Brae groaned around the stallionhood gliding effortlessly into his muzzle and down his throat.

A tremor crept into his thighs, his mind went blank, and a cocktail of saliva and pre-cum slipped to his chin as he teetered on the brink. He couldn’t say how long they’d been at it, maybe a hoofful of minutes at most, but he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer. Flexing his pelvis and gyrating his hips, he threw himself over the edge.

He shuddered and quaked while he rode out his climax. Though his colthood wasn’t the biggest, relatively dainty compared to the three majestic stallionhoods he was tending to, it pulsed and shot ropes of thin, watery jizz into his hat. While Cormano and Happy Trails wouldn’t have minded him glazing himself, painting his belly and chest with his own spunk, he wasn’t about to risk throwing Bushel off with the indulgent display - especially since he could feel the hunky stud starting to flare.

Throwing his head back and freeing his snout, he gazed up at Bushel’s face. “I…inside! Ah want it - Glk?!”

S…sorry,” Cormano sputtered as he drove his cock down Brae’s gullet, “I’m close…”

Happy Trails, furiously bucking into Brae’s grip, quickly chimed in. “S…same here.”

Holy cow - was this actually happening? Were the three of them about to finish in tandem? They all got along well, and it wasn’t like they weren’t used to working in concert, but this was an all new level of coordination! Doubling down and renewing his efforts, Brae sucked, milked, and stroked the trio until it happened.

Happy Trails climaxed first, dressing his face and chest like a strudel, and Cormano wasn’t far behind. Gulping down a rich, creamy load, he went cross-eyed as Bushel bellowed and bred his ass. The sweltering influx of foal-batter surging through his insides was the icing on the cake - so much so that it caused him to have a second, albeit slightly weaker orgasm of his own!

Fighting the urge to gag as Cormano unsheathed his softening length, he swallowed down the mouthful of spunk and beamed. “Hot dang - y’all must’a been missin’ l’il old me…”

Yeah,” Cormano and Happy trails answered in tanem.

“And you?” Brae breathed, turning his head to Bushel. “You have fun, big guy?”

Bushel’s blush returned with a vengeance, yet his stallionhood twitched within Brae. “Kinda…”

With cum seeping out of his pucker, Brae fluttered his eyes at Bushel. “You know what that means ~ right?” he quaintly inquired. Receiving no answer, he snickered softly. “Means you might need to pay me another visit sometime - ya know, just so you can make up your mind…”

Maybe this was his one and only time of tasting what Bushel had to offer, or maybe the reserved stud would eventually come around and breed him for a second time - either way, he was glad that things had worked out the way they had. Basking in the cum covering and sloshing about within him, he laughed. If there was one thing he was truly grateful for, it was having such good friends who weren’t afraid to be very, very close…

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