Unfinished Business

Lil Mac nursed at his mother's teat while she stood at the kitchen sink, washing dishes. He suckled in complete confidence that this was paradise, oblivious to the true nirvana that lay just a bit further north, nestled just under his mother's tail. The mare shuffled her legs a bit. Nature had designed nursing to be a pleasurable experience for a mare, to encourage the care for her foals. Though when her partner would suckle her nipples, the precise nature of the pleasure became more blurred.

The proud father looked over at the young colt, and then at his wife's winking marehood, and just smirked to himself. "One day..."

"Teeth!" she yelped, shooing the colt away with her leg. "What did I tell you about teeth!?" Lil Mac tried his luck with her other teat, but she pushed him away again. "No! That's enough!"

The little colt looked like he was about to cry, but he knew his father was watching. And big colts don't cry. Even so, being denied his personal heaven along with her scolding words felt like a punch in the stomach, and it showed in his face.

His father didn't let it show on his face, but he could feel that same pain. Lil Mac didn't know it, but now that he was teething, this would very likely be his last time nursing his mother's milk.

"Go on now," he told him. "Go outside and play. Leave your mother be."

Heartbroken though he was, the colt would not defy his father's orders.

Heartbroken though he was to give them, his father could remember the last time he suckled his of own mother's milk. He didn't know that the last time would be the last time. He blinked back the drop of sweat in his eye that was definitely not a tear. "I sure wish I didn't know now, what I didn't know then."

"What was that?" Sugar Belle asked.

"Nothing," Big Mac said.

Little Macintosh nursed at his mother's teat while she stood at the kitchen sink, washing dishes.

Behind her, Bright Mac looked at them in mild concern. "Ain't he a bit old for that?" he asked.

"Oh, leave him be," Pear Butter said.

"Like, ain't he supposed to be weaned now that he has his teeth?" Bright asked. "I seen him eat his apples just fine."

"He knows to not use them," Pear said, shifting her stance to let Mac get to her other nipple. "Besides, it'll help him grow up big and strong."

"It's gonna make him grow up soft is what it will! You're gonna spoil him into a right momma's colt!" Bright said.

Pear looked back at him over her shoulder, "You're one to talk."

Bright scoffed. "I went directly against Ma's wishes even dating you in the first place! I was weaned at my first tooth!" He looked at his wife's winking marehood under her flagged tail. "And I certainly didn't go carrying on like that with her!" Pear Butter rolled her eyes at him. It wasn't like she could control her body's reaction. "I'll tell you one thing," he continued, "he best not still be doing that once he's got his cutie mark! That yoke is going on him this spring! Ain't no son of mine gonna be some weakling stallion!" He put his hat on and stomped out of the kitchen in a huff.

Macintosh looked nervously out from under his mother's tail.

"Did I do something wrong, Mom?"

"No, no!" she hushed him. "Your Pa loves you. He just wants what's best for you. For you to be a big strong stallion."

"But I am a big strong stallion!" the little colt said.

Pear Butter just smiled at him. "I know you are. So maybe you should head out into the orchard and lend your Pa a hoof with the chores." Mac's body stiffened with pride and he was about to go, but he waivered and looked up at her with sad eyes. "Okay, you can finish first." He vanished back under her tail and she bit her lips as he resumed suckling. She knew better than most that farm ponies had to grow up fast. He could enjoy being a foal just a little longer.

~

The wooden yoke weighed heavy on the colt, but he wore it for his father with determined pride. He may not have had the raw muscle mass to pull the plow yet, but he could still tow the smaller carts through the orchard. It seemed to please the older stallion well enough. After a hard day's work, it was a trip to the stream.

"It's cold!" Mac complained as he dipped his hoof in the water.

"A quick in and out to rinse away the sweat." Bright said. A sudden shove and Mac fell in. He resurfaced just as quickly, shrieking as he scrambled out of the water, shivering cold, but clean. Bright took his turn to jump in. He was just as cold in the water. The spring snowmelt was just barely above freezing, shocking the breath out of him. He stepped out and shook himself off, stifling his own shiver. He refused to show weakness in front of his colt. "Let's get on back to the house. There's a dry towel and a hot meal waiting for both of us." Bright never saw the colt run so fast before.

Just as hunger sweetens the beans, cold makes even the blandest oatmeal seem like a bowl of bliss to Mac as the warmth spread throughout his belly.

"Be happy for the cold," Bright teased. "The summer heat will be here before long, and you'll be making puddles of sweat out there."

"Granny already asleep?" Mac asked unsurprised, given how late this dinner was. Pear nodded. Normally Macintosh ate dinner earlier with Granny Smith while Bright was still hard at work outside. The older stallion finished his meal efficiently and bussed his dishes before he headed upstairs to retire to bed for the night. Pear Butter and Mac finished shortly after and she set to work washing the evening dishes.

"Ma, I'm thirsty," Mac said.

"There should still be some more juice in the fridge," she said.

"No, I mean..." he tugged on her tail.

She looked back at him, understanding his meaning. "Oh." She glanced at the stairs. "I suppose it's okay." She shifted her hooves apart to give him room to suckle. It was then that she noticed that he was starting to need to duck a bit to get under her. It was her intent for him to grow up big and strong. And he was, quickly. Bright hadn't minced words. Macintosh would have his cutie mark any day now. He really should have been weaned a long time ago.

Pear Butter bit her lip as a shiver of pleasure ran through her, making her tail flag. "Just this one last time," she told him. At least, she was pretty sure she told him. Or maybe she just thought it really loud.

After he finished, she sent him off to bed and she made her way to her own bedroom. Nursing had left her in a bit of a state and her tail swished from side to side as she crawled into the bed with her husband. She nuzzled against him in the dark. He groaned something inaudible, barely still awake. She kissed his cheek and ran her hoof down along his belly to his sheath, making clear her desire.

"Remember what I said on the night of our wedding?" Pear asked.

"Hmm..?" he responded without even opening his eyes, barely awake.

"I told you that I wanted to fill up the farm with new foals," she said.

"Ugh... Tired," he mumbled. "Lotta work left to do for spring planting."

"I could..." Pear Butter climbed on top of him and ground her hot marehood against his sheath to coax out his shaft. Though try as she might, the only reaction she got from him was snoring. She frowned and rolled off of him. It would just be her and her hoof again tonight.

Little Macintosh shuffled into the kitchen, blinking in the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. "Where's Dad?" he asked.

"Already working," Pear said. "He wakes up before dawn every day, just like every farmpony."

"He didn't wake me up," he said.

"You have to be responsible for yourself," Pear said. "And that means getting your own self up for work on time."

"Oh... Okay. Should I go out there now then?" he asked.

"Have some breakfast first, at least," she said, referring to the food on the table. Instead she felt him duck between her legs and latch onto one of her nipples. She wanted to object. Her rational mind said that she should. The frustrated part of her from last night just wanted to enjoy this.

"Just this one last time," she told herself.

The workload of the coming spring did not lessen as it got closer, leaving her increasingly frustrated at night. "Just this one last time," she kept telling herself.

"Good morning sleepyhead!" Bright Mac teased his son. "You've missed the best part of the day!"

Macintosh worked hard and grew stronger every day. Every morning, the first thing he did when he went outside was to strap his yoke to the plow and pull. Whether by his new strength or the softening of the frozen ground, the plow began to budge. A little was all he needed. With a renewed surge of hope and strength, he pulled with all his might. The blade of the plow split the earth in twain as he marched with tremendous pride across the field.

Bright Mac had told his son plenty of times before how proud he was with his words, but this time, Macintosh could see it in his face. This was real pride. No longer would the colt be relegated to follow behind and sow the seeds amid his fathers work. Just the same, Bright didn't dare follow after Macintosh. His son had plowed this furrow. It was his to seed.

What had once been a demeaning chore became a celebration, a victory lap as Macintosh sprinkled each apple seed into the furrow with sincere care. When at last it was done, his smile was so wide you could almost tie his lips behind his head. His hip sparkled and shimmered and in a flash, a cutie mark appeared, half of a bright green apple adorned with seeds.

Bright Mac clapped his son's back with a hearty thud. "Ha! You're a proper stallion now, Little Mac!" Macintosh's smile faltered a barely-perceptible bit. "No. Big Macintosh!"

His smile returned bigger than ever. "I can't wait to show Mom!"

"Ha! Yep! We have a lot to celebrate!" Bright said. Macintosh started to lift off his yoke. His father's hoof held it down. He looked at his father with a vaguely worried expression. "We'll celebrate when the work is done. And there's a lot of field left." Mac was about to frown but he kept it from his face. Bright strapped his own yoke to his plow. "Come on kid, I'll match you one for one. That is, if you think you can keep up with your old stallion!"

Big Macintosh grinned and the two of them lined up to do the next two rows.

He could not keep up with his old stallion.

"Not yet, anyway," Bright said, clapping Mac on the back again where he panted in the dirt. "But don't be discouraged. You put up some good numbers. Grab the seed pouch and we can finish up the east side."

Mac spread the seeds as he followed his father's plow sheer. It was still a chore. But he walked a little bit taller as he did it this time. Occasionally glancing back at his own flanks to see his new cutie mark again. By day's end, his hooves barked, his legs burned and his back ached. But his spirit was indominable.

After a bit of fanfare from the rest of the family to celebrate his cutie mark, Big Macintosh set to eating dinner like he had a hole in his neck, finishing almost at the same time as Bright. Indeed, he was rapidly becoming every bit the stallion as his father.

The thought flittered through Pear's mind of how else a stallion like his father he might become uniquely gifted. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and pushed the thought away. It had been far too long since her needs had been seen to. "Early to bed, early to rise," she said as she got up and shuffled away from the dinner table.

"I see your appetite has grown as well," Pear said to her son as Bright picked up his, and his mother's empty plate to bring to the sink. Pear stood up from the table and started to do the same with her own. "Do you want anything else to eat, Mac? Some more to drink?" she asked. She barely finished speaking before Mac answered.

"Yeah!" In a flash he was up from his seat and trotted over to lean under her tail to get to her teats. Bright Mac gave Pear a stern glare. She quickly shuffled away and crossed her legs.

"Now Mac, this has been going on far longer than it should have. You have your teeth and weened, but now that you have your cutie mark, this really has to stop!" Mac looked like he was going to cry, but he blinked it back quickly before his father could see. "You're a stallion now, and you need to act like it."

"Early to bed, early to rise," Bright Mac echoed, heading upstairs to his bedroom.

Pear nodded. "Yes. You should get to bed yourself and try to wake up early with your father." Mac just nodded and went upstairs without another word. Pear cleaned up after dinner. Her hind legs shuffled uncomfortably as she made short work of the dishes, setting them in the rack to dry before she retired, herself.

Climbing into bed beside her husband, Pear found him already sound asleep. She tried to gently rouse him, but was met with unintelligible grumbles of tired frustration before more snoring quickly resumed. He wasn't the only one that was frustrated. Pear briefly considered just climbing on top of him and taking matters into her own hooves. He rolled away from her onto his side. She had neither the strength nor the desire to wrestle him onto his back just for her to then do all the work. She laid down with a defeated sigh.

Sleep did not come easy for Pear, but morning did all the same. She rubbed her tired eyes and shuffled downstairs to get breakfast started by the glow of the eastern horizon in the small hours before dawn. Bright Mac sat at the breakfast table just as Pear was setting down his hearty plate of food. Bright gave Mac's empty seat a pointed glare. They ate together quietly and Bright cleared his plate before heading outside to bale the hay grass field.

Pear finished eating and walked upstairs to wake Mac. He needed to get into the habit of waking up early with his father now. Pushing open his bedroom door, she could see the dim silhouette of him sleeping on his side away from her. She walked over to his bed to gently nudge him awake. Barely touching his shoulder, he rolled toward her onto his back, still fast asleep. In the process, she could not ignore the tent that his morning wood pitched in his sheets.

She stifled her gasp. He was very much now the stallion that his father was. In the way that mattered. She didn't mean to stare. She didn't mean to, really. Her hoof hovered over him when she had touched his shoulder. It drifted closer as her eyes traced over the contours of his erection through the linen. She could even make out the shape of his tip and his medial ring. For a moment she just lost herself in drinking in the sight. It had been far too long since she had last felt one. The thought pervaded her mind, and her hoof moved closer on its own. The soft pad of her hoof lightly pressed against the ridge of his tip.

Mac groaned in his sleep and his hips instinctively flexed upward, pressing himself harder against her touch. She felt his shaft throb harder and thicker. The sheets shifted and she could see the outline of his scrotum against the fabric. She recalled when she first started dating Bright, and him talking about how uncomfortable it was to have full, heavy balls. She made sure to diligently empty them regularly. And for a time, it was good. But after their colt was born, it always seemed like one or both of them were just too tired for Bright's full balls to be a priority.

To say nothing of Pear's own discomfort.

Mac flexed his hips again and the bedsheet shifted a little more, causing the tip of his shaft to poke out from under the covers. Pear's first reflex was to pull her hoof away, if only just slightly. Mac moaned plaintively and flexed his hips again to get the bare tip of his dick to touch her hoof. The contact caused the head of his shaft to flare.

"Oh my goodness, is he about to cum?" she wondered in mixture of mild panic, but also rapt fascination.

The sudden sensation made him blink awake in the dim light and he looked up at her as she quickly pulled her hoof away from him. "Mom?"

His voice snapped her consciousness back in a flash and she reacted quickly. "Uh, good morning sleepy head. It's time to get up." She stammered. "Wake up, I mean. Were you having a nice dream?"

A sliver of the sun crested the horizon and dawn's light streamed in through the windows. Mac blinked, and squinted but he could clearly see himself in the light. Though he rarely ever wore clothes, he felt a strange rush of embarrassment that compelled him to pull the sheets up and hide his modesty. He tried not to be too obvious about it.

Pear just gave him a kind smile like only a mother could. "It's okay. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's part of becoming a stallion." It did not assuage Mac's embarrassment. Pear relented and backed away from his bedside. "Once you're... ready, head outside and help your father in the field, okay?"

"Eeyup."

~

Hay Day put every pony to work. Though paled in comparison to the strength of her husband, Pear was still a farm pony, and no weakling. Mac did his best to keep up with his father, gathering the long grass to bale together. They made a sizable stack on the ground and Bright lassoed each one to fling up into the hay loft. To even get a bale airborne at all was a feat that Mac couldn't yet hope to accomplish.

Pear Butter climbed the ladder up to the hay loft to neatly stack and store each bale to be dried into hay over the warm summer months.

Mac worked quickly to tie each bale to be ready to be flung by his father. In his haste, not watching where he was stepping, he was caught in the arc of Bright's swing. The hay was soft, but not light, sending Mac tumbling. Bright's flash of worry evaporated as soon as his son was back on his hooves. "Watch where you're going!" Bright barked at him. His concern for his son came out more cross than he meant it to be. It made Mac feel like an inch tall. He just wanted to be useful. Bright lassoed the next bale. "I can get the rest of these. Go up and help your mother stack them."

Mac nodded and did as he was told. He walked into the barn to climb up the ladder to the loft. Bright hadn't minced words. The bales were in a messy pile where they had landed inside the loft window. Pear Butter was scrambling to neatly stack each one towards the back of the loft. Her fur and mane were soaked with sweat. It was still only spring, but the loft had become plenty hot under the roof in the sun.

She stopped just long enough to drink from the water pale she had brought, when she noticed Mac. "Did he send you up to help?" Mac nodded. "Okay, good. Because I need to catch up," she said as the next bale flew in through the window. Mac wasted no time and worked quickly to help her stack some of the bales. The stifling air of the loft was oppressive. Without a breeze, his sweat clung to him, keeping him from cooling down, but for what little water remained in the drinking pail. Several more bales flew in through the window.

"I'm gonna go bale some more grass!" Bright Mac shouted from down below. Even from where he was, he could see the massive mess of a pile up in the loft. "You two get those all squared away by the time I'm back!"

"Yes, dear!" Pear's voice called from the loft. She and her son hustled to catch up while they could. They made a serious dent in the pile by the time Pear finished the last of the water. She stopped to catch her breath before she would go get another pail. Mac saw the empty bucket and could feel how parched his throat was. He looked at Pear and moved in a haze of exhaustion and thirst.

Pear yelped in surprise as Mac ducked underneath her to suckle desperately on her teats. Pear wanted to protest, but she was too tired to put up a fight. And really, who could blame him? It was understandable, though she would definitely need to explain to him that this would have to be the last time.

Her body shivered in pleasure.

This would definitely be the last time, she told herself resolutely. She would definitely tell him that.

She chewed her lip. Her nethers quivered in long-denied pleasure.

She stepped her legs just a bit wider apart.

She would definitely tell him that... just as soon as he was finished.

A dribble of sweat landed on Mac's snout. His nostrils flared from the aroma and he opened his eyes, looking up under his mother's flagged tail. Her marehood flexed and winked, dripping more sweat on his nose. He tongue reflexively licked his nose, finding the sweat of a mare in heat to be... delicious.

His lips smacked loudly. Or perhaps it was his erection smacking against his belly. There was no conscious train of thought in the young stallion's mind. Only a driving curiosity. A driving need to taste it more.

Pear Butter's knees went weak as she felt him press his tongue into her marehood. It had been ages since she'd had sex, let alone when Bright had gone down on her. A voice in her mind screamed in objection to the feeling, but it was quickly drowned out until all that mattered was the feeling itself.

His tongue made lewd slurping noises and he licked greedily into her pussy, probing deep inside her vagina. Her clitoris winked against his chin and he lapped at it, giving it a little suckle like her nipples, making her muscles turned to jelly. Her front legs gave out and she fell forward into the soft hay scattered on the floor. Mac took this as a permissive invitation to continue.

Mac loved his mother. He loved her so much he just wanted to hug her. For reasons he couldn't explain, he felt driven, compelled to hug her, right where she was. He reared up to climb on top of her to hug her, wrapping his hooves around her body. The tip of his shaft pressed against her warm marehood. That sensation of warmth and pressure just felt so good. His hips pressed harder and he hugged her tighter, trying to pull her even closer to him.

Part of Pear Butter panicked. She had been warned about this. Granny Smith warned her about raising a colt going through adolescence. She told her a rather unflattering story about Bright Mac's older brother, Orange, when he became a stallion and tried to cover her in this same way. Granny gave him a swift bucking and sent him to go live in Manehattan. "Orange didn't have no other mares around on the farm besides me at the time," she had explained. "I suppose it was inevitable. But I straightened him right out!"

Pear couldn't bring herself to kick Mac. He didn't understand what he was doing. He didn't know any better. But she knew she should definitely stop him. Tell him this is wrong. So wrong. That this couldn't happen. He shouldn't do this to his own mother. But in that desperate moment, the problem was... she wanted him to.

She shifted her hind legs just enough to stretch her marehood against the tip of his shaft, helping to aim him just a bit better and...

"Ah..." She moaned along with him as he pushed himself inside her.

For his part, Mac hadn't the presence of mind to consider the strangeness of a part of him being inside his mother's body. All that mattered was how good it felt as he pushed it in. He hugged her closer until he was inside her as much as he possibly could be. This new, surreal closeness he felt hugging her like this was an indescribable pleasure. He loved her so much, especially in that moment. He just wanted to hold her tightly like this forever and never let go.

But much like the sensation that woke him that morning, a competing drive made him want to flex his hips repeatedly. The movement, though small, felt even better than staying still. And if a little was good, more was better. Driven by pure instinct, he started rutting the mare underneath him.

It didn't matter that she was his mother. It didn't matter that he was her son. It felt too good to both of them to be concerned with such trivial details. This feeling was just too good to deny. His heavy balls slapped against her winking clitoris. She had been denied on the edge for so long, she could feel her climax rising quickly.

A quiet nag in the back of Pear's mind was swatted away by the hoof of pleasure. As long as he pulls out. He won't. As long as she gets him to pull out. Right. That was what she would do. She would definitely do that before he finishes. Like an alarm clock, it was something that she wanted to ignore just a little longer and just enjoy being wrapped up in this warm comfort.

Pear Butter shuddered as she came. Her pussy quivered and spasmed. Mac couldn't even understand just how good he was making her feel. He was lost in his own oblivion as he kept humping away for his own sake. At most, all he noticed was just how much he could feel his dick being rhythmically squeezed, feeling even better than ever before. A strange sense of unease grew inside him, like something was about to happen. But nothing could keep his hips from thrusting.

Pear butter just pawed fruitlessly at the floorboards of the loft as he fucked her right through her orgasm. She could barely see straight, let alone think straight. But just as long as she definitely stopped him before-

"Hnng!" Mac grunted and hugged her harder as he pushed himself as deep as he could. His balls tightened and his shaft swelled even thicker as his wide head flared deep inside her. Before she could even react, she could feel him throbbing and pulsing inside her. The first jet of his hot semen splashed against her insides as his dick pumped load after load inside. The pressure built, but he just pushed harder into her, forcing his virile seed through her deepest barrier. She could feel the warmth of his cum spreading throughout her fertile womb.

Big Mac's legs went weak and he practically collapsed on top of her. The shift in weight caused her legs to buckle and they both ended up laying on the floor, panting. The post-orgasmic sobriety washed over Pear first. Adrenalin flooded her system in a fit of panic.

She could still feel his erection idly pulsing inside her. She rolled onto her side to get his weight off of her and she tried to shift herself away from him. His flare was still firmly lodged deep inside her, keeping his semen from leaking out. She waited a moment more before trying again. Time felt like it slowed down, but after only a minute more, his erection softened just enough for her to get him to pull out of her with a wet plop.

A milky, watery mixture of his cum and her own arousal dribbled out. With how much she felt him cumming, she expected a flood of semen to gush out of her pussy. But even with him out of her, she still felt a lingering pressure inside of her. Most of it must have gotten pushed deeper into her womb. What was worse was that she could feel the burning heat of her estrus evaporating with each passing moment as his hormones absorbed into the lining of her uterus. Relief of an itch she didn't even know was bothering her.

She had felt this once before, when Bright Mac had gotten her pregnant.

"Oh- oh no. Oh no, we shouldn't have done that!" Pear gasped. "We really shouldn't have done that!"

Mac sat up as his wilting penis retreated back into his sheath. "I- I'm sorry Mom! I don't know why I did that. Did I hurt you!?"

"No, sweetie, that felt wonderful. Land's sake! Your father hasn't licked me like that in ages!" Pear composed herself. "But we should not have done that!" she said. Her panic was making him worry almost as much. "I... We can not tell your father about this! That was something that only married ponies are meant to do with one another. And I'm married to your father." Mac didn't feel terribly inclined to tell his father about this in the first place, but now he was morbidly curious. In answer to his unspoken question, his mother continued. "He would be very angry if he found out! He would... I don't know what he would do. But he would be very, very angry!"

"I'm sorry!" Mac looked like he was about to cry. He might have been a stallion now, but in that moment, he still looked like her scared little colt.

She hushed him. "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay. Just... We just need to keep this a secret between us. Just you and I. If you promise not to tell anypony, everything will be fine. Okay?"

Mac nodded.

Pear stood up and brushed the hay out of her fur. She helped him stand and he did the same. She kicked some hay over the wet spots on the floor to cover and dry them. "Okay... Okay now. Dry those eyes and just... let's just get back to work. I'm gonna run to the outhouse and... clean up. I'll fetch some more water on the way back. And we can pretend this never happened, okay?"

"Eeyup."

~

Pear Butter and Mac worked in awkward silence stacking the rest of the hay bales. They tried to pretend that nothing had happened. That nothing had changed.

But it had, and they both knew it would never be the same again. He kept stealing glances under her tail when he thought she wasn't looking, remembering what they had done, and how good it felt. The memory was tainted with anxious fear. But not in the least bit with regret.

Pear Butter kept stealing glances at his sheath, haunted by the knowledge of the monster he was concealing inside it. His cock was already nearly as big as his father's, but the rest of him still had such a ways to grow. Even as she formulated a plan out of this situation, and a back up plan as well, she still felt a similar, if tempered, anxious fear. She glanced at his coin purse and bit her lip.

If she felt any regret at all, it was only that they would never be able to do that again.