Zebra Anthology

Babs thrust a hand into her pocket as walked down the hallway and to the front door of her apartment. Her shift hadn’t been as bad as some, only having a handful of particularly annoying customers come into the convenience store she worked at, but she was more than ready to be home. Stopping on the welcome mat, she kicked off her feet before seeing herself in.

As she pushed the door open, a deep voice called out. “That you, baby girl?”

Despite her furrowed brow, she smiled. “Who the hell else would it be?”

There were only two keys to her flat, excluding the one maintenance kept stashed away, so she couldn’t help but be a bit cynical - plus her roommate deserved to be given a hard time. Trudging through the foyer and into the kitchen, she made a beeline to the fridge. The late hour and the fact that all she’d had to eat in the last few hours was a shitty candy bar, a bag of peanuts, and a freezer-burned pizza pocket would have made her hungry under ordinary circumstances, although the circumstances weren’t quite ordinary.

She opened the fridge and peeked down at herself as the door bumped against her belly. “Damn it…”

Heavy footfalls approached her from behind, before a thick, meaty hand ran over her shoulder. “What’s wrong, dumplin’?”

“Dumplin’?” she barked. Whipping around and slapping the hand away from her shoulder, she craned her neck upward and scowled. “Don’t you dumplin’ me!”

Towering over her by nearly two solid feet, colossus smiled placidly down upon her. “Why’s that?”

“You’re the reason I’m like this!” she snapped while reaching up to prod his broad chest with a finger. “Before your fat ass came into my life, I was half this size.”

“Less,” he coolly corrected. “I’d say you were - oh - maybe a third of your - Ow!”

Retracting her balled fist and cocking it back, she squinted up at him. “Want another one, smart guy?”

He threw his hands up in surrender and frowned. “Sorry! Just wanted to see how my baby girl was doin’, I swear.”

She wanted to be mad at him, but that was a tall order. She’d known Berg for well over a year, and he was the reason she was in such a pitiable state. Sensing something shift inside her abdomen, she peeked down at herself.

To put it lightly, she was exquisitely gravid, so large that she looked like she could pop at any minute, and her appearance played only a part in her frustration. She’d always been relatively hot-headed, a spitfire as her mom had called it, yet her temper had grown more erratic after she’d been knocked up. Along with her usual sarcasms, she’d find the pendulum of her disposition swinging from melancholic to apathetic - worse still, and easily the most infuriating, was that her libido had become stronger as her pregnancy had progressed.

Reeling back as something huge and billowing landed on her head, she was shaken from her stupor. “The fuck, Berg?”

Pulling the thing from off herself, she grimaced down at the oversized t-shirt in her hands. Her intuition told her not to look at him, that to do so would play right into his trap, yet her impulses, paired with the scent she’d breathed in off his attire, proved too strong for her. As she lifted her gaze to him, her marehood seized upon itself.

Even for a zebra, Berg was big - like, really fucking big. Not only was he taller and vastly stronger than her, but his impressive height was rivaled or even eclipsed by just how damn broad he was. The guy was, as the kids said, thick, and there wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t huge.

“What?” he hummed. Bringing his hands behind his head, he struck a pose and chuckled. “I thought this might make you feel better.”

While she absentmindedly peered at his massive pecs, muscular gut, and trunk-like limbs, the smoldering embers of her lust ignited. The instant her eyes drifted down to his boxers, subconsciously drawn by the prospect of getting a peek at his heavenly package, she clenched her teeth and snarled. No - she hadn’t worked a full shift just to walk home and get seduced by the big, lovable, sexy…

“Nope,” she grunted, having caught herself dwelling on how incredible he was. Sidestepping him and making for the exit, she flipped a double one-finger salute over her shoulders. “I’m gonna go get something greasy to pig out on.”

It was his fault that she was carrying triples, her relationship with him was the reason she’d ended up moving out of her parents’ place, and she’d rather go for a walk by her lonesome than fall into his clutches again - at least, that’s what she told herself. Reaching the front door, she came to a sudden halt when a hand closed around her wrist.

“Let go,” she flatly stated without looking back.

Loosening his grip, but not releasing her, Berg sighed. “I’m sorry ~ alright? It’s late, you’re tired, and I should’ve cut you some slack.”

She snatched her arm free and placed her hand on the doorknob. “Should’ve thought about that before showing your ass.”

There was a pause, a long pause, before he softly replied. “Listen, you know I don’t like when you go out at this time of night. Things might be different if - you know, you weren’t carrying our kids, or if we were in a nicer part of Manehattan, but you are and we’re not.”

His hushed voice, laying in stark contrast to his gargantuan figure, dripped with concern. There weren’t many ponies who’d ever cared for her, and fewer still who’d remained close to her over the years, yet Berg was one of them. As she reluctantly glanced back and saw his crestfallen expression, her irritation died.

She may have changed her mind on account of him, and since she really didn’t want to go back out after just getting home, but she’d have to play her cards carefully. Being overly affectionate wasn’t, nor had it ever been, her style - bearing that in mind, she couldn’t bring herself to give him a hug and accept his apology. Spinning on one heel, she faced him and folded her arms over her mountainous bust.

“Well?” she tutted while tapping one foot.

Cocking his head to one side, he gave an innocent shrug. “Well what? I said I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough,” she petulantly huffed. “I don’t accost you right after you get off work…”

He turned his eyes up to the ceiling, softly snickered, and rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, if you don’t count that time last week when I walked in on you sniffing my underwear and - Hey!”

Her second blow, a jab to his side, silenced him. “I told you not to mention that…”

“Right,” he mumbled while rubbing his flank. “I guess I’m remembering that other time where you ambushed me and tore my - Quit!”

She delivered a flurry of punches to his stomach before he could recount the ignominious tale. Fuck if she was going to let him keep calling her out, even if he hadn’t been lying about catching her masturbating while smelling his used briefs, or the time when she’d really wanted to choke herself on his dick, and she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. Strutting past him, she moved into the den and his prized recliner.

“Stop your bellyaching,” she groused. “It’s not like any of that actually hurt you.”

Trailing along after her, he stopped at her side. “You’re wrong…”

She rolled her eyes and cautiously eased herself down. “Bullshit, we both know -”

“It hurt my feelings,” he pouted.

Having to jam her face into her palms to keep herself from laughing, she shook her head. Somehow, as infuriating as it was, he always had a way of defusing the situation. Between his bulky physique, easygoing disposition, and the way he looked after her, he was perfect in every way, almost like he’d been made for her. Flinching as a pair of hands ran over her shoulders, she forced a frown back on her muzzle.

Digging his thumbs into the muscles of her upper back, he leaned over the chair’s back and kissed the top of her head. “Will you forgive me, baby girl?”

She tried - oh how she tried to keep up her act, but the twofold assault of having the tension kneaded out of her, while hearing his solemn, regretful tone, was too much for her to handle. Throwing her hands up and sinking into the chair, she exasperatedly sighed in defeat. An impromptu massage wasn’t exactly the same as getting a filling meal, although it certainly beat going to get overpriced takeout.

“Rough night at the shop?” he quietly asked.

“Less talking, more rubbing,” she hummed.

Shudderingly exhaling, she closed her eyes and savored his affection. A lifetime of manual labor, the bulk of which being spent in construction, had forged him into a powerhouse, although he was never overly rough with her - well, no, he wasn’t rough with her often. Prior to them discovering she was carrying his foals, prompted to visit a local clinic after she’d woken up nauseous for several days in a row, he would routinely manhandle her and roughhouse with her - sadly, those days were put on hold until she’d delivered their trio of kids.

As if sensing themselves being spoken of, one or more of the tykes started wriggling around in her belly. She’d never given much consideration to being a mother, taking a neutral stance on the matter when she’d been growing up, but that had changed in a big way. Pride, hope, and love blossomed in her heart as her unborn young had grown bigger and stronger with every passing day, and Berg was just as elated and enthused about having children as she was.

Bringing one huge mitt around and over her belly, he hesitated. “Can I?”

“I don’t see why not - after all, you’re the one who put ‘em in me,” she quipped.

He smiled broadly and placed his palm against the taut skin of her abdomen. “You sure they’re mine?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty damn sure,” she shot back. “Are you sure they won’t have a bunch of half-siblings running around Equestria?”

“Oh please,” he countered. Stepping away from her, he waved a hand at himself. “Have you seen this? What kinda mare would want an old, overweight stallion like me - no, hard-headed, apparently blind earth pony mares who’re half my age don’t count.”

Pinching the bridge of her snout, if only to prevent herself from drooling over him, she smirked. Was he old enough to be her father? By a slim margin, yes. Did that mean she didn’t find him extraordinarily attractive? Not by a long shot. Unlike most mares, the ones who went chasing after stallion’s who spent morning, noon, and night in gyms, she preferred more natural, strapping studs, ones who wouldn’t run around behind her back, and Berg was a shining example of that.

“Says the stallion I was gushing over when you met me and carried my groceries,” she mused.

He flashed his smile while shooting her a wink. “Says the mare who was crazy enough to ask me out on a date.”

“Well it worked ~ didn’t it?” she cackled.

Bumping into him at the grocery store was easily the best thing that had ever happened in her life. Most stallions were scared of her, and with good reason, but not Berg - not even the tiniest bit. He was the only stud she’d ever crossed paths with who would put up with her shit and come back for seconds with a smile on his face.

“You should’ve seen me in my younger days,” he noted. Shaking his hips and gyrating in place, he ran his hands down his chest. “Bet you would’ve -”

“Oh shut up,” she chirped. Groaning as she stood, she crossed to him and gave him a hug. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

She squeezed him tightly and pressed her cheek to his chest. The warmth he afforded was anything but superficial - sure, it felt nice to bask in his body heat, but it was his fondness for her that truly touched her. Soon enough, they’d have a family, a sextet of little feet pitter-pattering around their apartment, and she wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t get new sisters or brothers before too long.

“I - um - baby?” he murmured.

Shuffling back just enough to peer up at him, she followed his eyes and peeked down at herself. Though she was wearing a shirt, bra, and nursing pads, two patches of damp fabric were expanding over her breasts. Great - fucking wonderful - what was supposed to be a tender moment had turned into an embarrassing incident and an eventual trip to the laundromat.

“That’s - Ahem,” he cleared his throat and averted his gaze.

Narrowing her eyes, she placed her hands on her hips. “That’s what…”

She didn’t have to get an answer to know what he was talking about - hell, she didn’t even need to look at his groin. The sight of her tits never failed to get him excited, yet that had gotten exponentially worse since she’d started lactating. Annoyed, hungry, and slightly turned on by the unexpected turn of events, she stomped over to the couch.

There was only one way this was going to end - she knew it, he almost certainly knew it, and the neighbors probably knew it as well. Having pulled her shirt up and over her head, she sat down and reached behind her back to fiddle with the clasp on her bra. Seeing as how getting her pussy wrecked was far from the worst way to relax, and that Berg would be elated to have some fun himself, it only made sense to wave the white flag and let them both blow off a bit of steam.

“Ah,” she clucked as he shuffled closer to her. “You know the deal.”

Clasping a hand to his chest, Berg gave a small bow. “I swear…”

She quickly removed her bra, tossed it to the side, and began the arduous process of wriggling out of her pants. There was something wickedly sinful about getting him to perform for her, and she didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of it. After finally stripping down and throwing her attire to the side, leaving herself fully exposed, she splayed her legs and gave a deep, gratified sigh.

There’d never been a time when she gave a shit about showing her naked body to him, and her pregnancy hadn’t changed that. Cupping one weighty tit in one hand, she reached around her distended belly to stroke her slavering, winking marehood. As Berg hauled his shorts down his bulky legs, her focus lay solely on the ebony length that was gradually revealed.

Even before she’d met him, she was wise to how incredible Zebrican lovers could be. Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom exclusively fucked the striped stallions, and she’d met plenty of other mares who had zebra coltfriends, but it wasn’t until Berg had come into her life that she truly understood the appeal of the exotic equines. Sinking two then three fingers into her snatch, she gnawed her bottom lip when he stood and lazily stroked himself off.

“Hope you like what you see, baby girl, because it’s all for you,” he purred.

It had taken her quite a bit of time to acclimate to his immense endowment, but when she eventually did - holy fuck, she knew she couldn’t go back to regular pony stallions. Bucking into her hand while she effectively milked herself, squeezing and stroking the engorged, rock-hard nipple on her right tit, she suppressed a pleased whimper. Just seeing and thinking about how amazing she’d feel when he stuck his cock in her, filling her cunt to the breaking point, was nearly enough to make her climax on the spot.

He strutted over with a sway in his hips, taking his time until he stopped and stood between her legs. “Wanna warm me up?”

Seeing the fat veins along his phenomenal length pulse in tune with his heart, she had to force herself not to suck him off. Crafty fucker - he probably figured she’d slobber on his dick without questioning him, although that wasn’t going to happen this time. As she lifted one leg, rested her foot on the arm of the sofa, and beckoned to him with a finger, he eyed her plump, sopping wet loins.

“How about you warm me up instead,” she cooed, “daddy.”

Berg visibly shivered, his cheeks darkened, and he sank to his knees without saying a word. She was his baby girl, he was her daddy, although they weren’t technically related. He truly did treat her like his daughter in many ways, fawning and fretting over her in equal measure, and she viewed him as a father figure. While the dynamic was admittedly weird, and made all the stranger by the extensive gap in their ages, the taboo nature of their relationship made the sex downright godly.

Burying his face in her crotch, he gave a low, growl-like purr. Being pregnant came with a good number of pros and cons, but one of the biggest drawbacks was that she couldn’t watch him as he was eating her out. Reclining and grabbing both of her teats, she shut her eyes and fixated on the feeling of his tongue gliding between her lower lips.

He really did have a mouth on him, and it was good for a hell of a lot more than giving her sass. Resting on one knee, he slipped his arms under her legs, pulled her in, and feasted upon her sex. Being taken in and knocked up by an older stallion came with a boatload of perks, including the remarkable way he put his pouting lips and skillful tongue to use.

“R…right there,” she rasped as he suckled on her clit.

He would’ve been happy to stay down there until she’d baptized him in her orgasmic juices - shit, after all the times he’d done just that, she was pretty sure he actually liked being hosed down in her nectar! Pushing her breasts together while hauling on her teats, she sent jets of milk spraying over her belly and the top of his head. She could easily have cum just from getting eaten out, yet restraining herself served a dual purpose - it honed her endurance, and she’d rather avoid giving him the gratification of climaxing before him.

Knowing what he was doing, and probably understanding that she was holding herself back, he played her like a damn fiddle. As soon as she started getting close to her limit, with her breath hitching in her throat and heart thundering in her bosom, he’d swap tactics or change his rhythm. It was the best kind of maddening, getting edged until she was so horny that it practically hurt, and the pleasurable onslaught took a toll on her.

Sucking air through her teeth, she leaned to one side while gently kicking a heel to his shoulder. “H…hey…”

Berg straightened up, licked his lips, and coolly slid a hand down her inner thigh to rub her clit with his thumb. “Yeah?”

“C…could - Mmmmph,” she snorted, railing against the bolts of bliss shooting through her. “Sit down for me.”

Swinging a leg over his head, she shuffled over and made some room on the cough. The added weight of three foals, in addition to the extra chub she’d accumulated from having a ravenous appetite, made sex a bit more complicated than it used to be. When he got up and took the space she’d just been occupying, her mind shot to one of two options for how to proceed.

She loved to be on top, so cowgirl was guaranteed, although she was torn between facing him or turning her back to him. As she looked down at him and drank him in, marveling at his size, physique, and handsome face, the decision made itself. Bending forward at the waist, she grabbed the sofa’s back as she ponderously straddled him.

“Come to daddy,” he rumbled.

The split-second warning she was given wasn’t nearly enough for her to alter course. As he lifted and nursed upon her bosoms, while using his fingers to tweak the one nipple he wasn’t sucking on, her legs gave out and she fell. Be it from fortune, fate, or a combination of the two, having just brought her groin over the imposing monolith that was his cock, she crashed upon him and unceremoniously impaled herself.

The ecstasy of being stretched open in a blink, positively stuffed with Berg’s prodigious stallionhood, momentarily robbed her of her strength - but only momentarily. Wading through a sea of bliss, she locked eyes with him and pressed her hands to his shoulders. She’d been taken off guard, although she was going to make him pay for that.

“Oh daddy,” she whined, bucking her hips and clamping around his length, “you’re so big.”

Extending his arms and grabbing her dump truck of an ass, he smiled broadly as he planted his feet and tensed his legs. “That’s right, baby girl, and it’s all for you…”

He let her get into a steady rhythm, enjoying the view of her massive tits leaking and flopping around, before he began moving in tune with her. Neither of them were in the best of shape, and their bellies were so large that there was a considerable amount of space between them, yet they’d adapted to her gravid state. Driving his hips up to meet her plunges, he pounded into her from below.

Babs’ eyes rolled to the back of her head. Bigger guys - fuck. Had somepony told her she’d eventually shack up with a bigger, older daddy, she would have scoffed at them and possibly given them a black eye - in spite of that, Berg had shown her the joys of seasoned, full-figured studs. Bracing herself on one arm, she arched her back and brought her tits closer to his face.

Just as she’d hoped for, he didn’t let the opportunity pass him by. Craning his neck forward, he latched onto her breast and helped himself to a mouthful of rich, creamy milk. The added stimulation was fantastic, and it erased what little self-control she had left.

They’d been fucking one another for so long that they’d learned how to work in perfect concert. Running her fingers through his mohawk, she constricted his shaft in her depths. She wasn’t, nor had she ever been that loose of a mare, with only a small number of partners and flings in the past, and that nearly all of her sexual know-how was custom-tailored to suit his needs.

“D…daddy,” she groaned.

The line between acting and reality blurred as her instincts took hold. Manehattan was about to have a brand new MILF on the block, and she couldn’t wait to show herself off. The idea of strutting around with an expansive bust, extra cushion and the pushin’, and one hell of a caboose was made leagues more appealing from denying any would-be admirers. Other stallions could look, that was fine, but she belonged to her dearest daddy.

Pulling back and growling, Berg glanced up at her. “Hang tight, baby.”

Harder and harder, faster and faster, they slammed their bodies together while trying to outdo each other. It was a competition of sorts, as was typical, and although Babs routinely lost, a magical combination of her stamina, added weight, and cow-like bosoms gave her a rare advantage. Fighting tooth and nail not to cum, balanced on the razor’s edge of climactic oblivion, she went in for the kill.

Holding his head in her hands, she shot forward and locked lips with him. He was a sucker for the little things, especially passionate ones, and the deep kiss was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Sheathing himself in her quaking cunt, he seated his flaring cock-head against her womb and came.

The influx of foal-batter obliterated didn’t usher her past the tipping point - it hurled her beyond it. As she squealed into his muzzle and around his muscular tongue, her toes curled and mind went blank. If having her daddy drain blow a fat load into her needy cunt wasn’t the best to unwind after a long, taxing day at work, nothing was.

Shuddering and riding out their rapture, they withdrew, peered into each other’s eyes, and giggled like a pair of naughty foals. Of all the things life had given her, she was the most grateful for Berg. Purely by happenstance, they’d found each other, built a loving relationship, and were well on their way to starting a family.

He pecked her cheek and gave her rump a playful little smack. “So now are you gonna go make dinner?”

Staring blankly at him, she punched his shoulder and guffawed. “Takeout?”

Feigning a wince, he couldn’t keep the smile from his muzzle. “Takeout it is.”