Twintwined in Twincest and Twinbreeding Part Two

“If I'm being honest things were hard for a while,” admitted Brandy. She passed the still sleeping baby to her husband sitting beside her. “They got bullied a lot at their old school. That's why we had to leave home. The good news is that of the places we've lived, Ponyville was one of the best. Most everyone was so welcoming and it's where I found my husband and so many friends who were willing to help us out. You're already in a great place for your twins to start out and get married just like mine.”

Married… The thought was so foreign to the Cakes as parents. Sure they expected all of these milestones to happen but in good time. Everything had been turned upside down. It felt like they'd fallen asleep on a train and went past their stop. This was so much to think about.

“If they get married I guess the living situation at our house won't have to change much,” pondered Cup Cake. “At least not for a while.”

Brandy screwed up her face in doubt. “I know they're still foals and not independent and fully capable like an adult but I'd actually recommend getting them their own small place nearby. Somewhere where they can live together separately from you. Back at the beginning of our adventure and up through their very early marriage I thought we'd all just live together and it would be great. I'd be able to help them out and play with my grandfoals. I also wasn't ready to let them go yet.

She put a hoof to her chin and sighed wistfully. “You want to continue seeing them as your little adolescent children who still need your help and in a sense they are but that image is difficult to maintain when you're exposed to so many of their intimate moments and their breeder lifestyle. There's just so much rutting… everywhere… all the time. Whatever shame they may have had about such things they'll probably lose and quickly. Think of living in a coed college dorm on steroids.” - - -

Brandy walked into the kitchen balancing a pair of grocery bags on her back. She found her son reared up on a chair at the kitchen table pounding away at her daughter who laid on her back moaning with legs in the air.

“Oh, you two,” she groaned in annoyance, She averted her eyes as she set the groceries down near the icebox.

The twins spared her a vacant glance of acknowledgment but did not stop. Pickle's balls were still audibly slapping Barley's rump with every thrust.

“I'll let you finish this time,” conceded their mother as she began to put the food away. “But in the future please don't do it on the table anymore, okay?”

“Okay, mom,” grunted Pickle,” his eyes closed with intense focus.

“Barley?” She waited for her to respond but she did not. “Okay?” The only thing she could hear was labored breathing and a regular plap plap plap like the ticking of a clock.

“Barley? she repeated pointedly.

“Y-yeah,” gasped the filly, mouth wide open.

“Okay then.” Brandy closed the icebox and exited the room abandoning the bag of dry food to deal with later. - - -

In the early morning hours Barley watched her brother's cock as it pumped slow and deep inside her. It had been a while since she could see that sight over her own stomach. He hovered above her on the bed, propped up on his forelegs giving his hips ample room to draw back and push in with power and weight. Pickle looked down, watching his sister's face contorting in building pleasure.

“That feels so good,” moaned Barley.

He looked down between them to watch her clit undulating hypnotically over his slowly pistoning shaft.

A new sound rose over her impassioned vocalizing. The two of them looked to the door when they heard a familiar crying. Their mother stood meekly in the doorway, cradling their wailing foal in between her wings.

“Sorry. Sorry,” she apologized. “Tornado is awake and needs fed.

“Ugh,” barley grunted in annoyance, still jostling under her brother’s rocking. “But I'm so close right now.”

Brandy looked at the floor. “I know but he seems very hungry right now.”

“Just one more minute,” pleaded the filly breathlessly. “I'm almost there. Actually you know what I can probably do both at the same time bring him here. She stretched out her forelegs, a glazed look on her face.

Her mother's eyes popped at the logistics of the delirious suggestion. “Uh, no, I don't think you can,” she replied, backing away. “I'll just let you finish and see if I can find a usable bottle in the meantime.” She turned fully around and vanished from sight. - - -

Brandy sat with the twins in a small compartment on a rumbling train to Manhattan. They were on their way to Barley's OBGYN appointment at the big city clinic. Despite the train being packed they did manage to get the compartment all to themselves… at least for the moment.

Brandy relaxed, reading a travel magazine while Pickle and Barley stood on opposing benches watching the countryside roll by out the window.

Pickle's eyes tracked an old windmill as it swept by. They kept going to his sister's face at the window and then down the length of her body elsewhere they rested on her flank. He licked his lips and hopped to the floor, then back up onto the bench behind Barley.

Pickle watched her tail swishing back and forth for a while until he couldn't take it anymore. He brushed it to the side to get a peek at her lovely vulva. It was always swollen and so sensitive these days.

“Hey you're not the doctor,” she giggled without looking back.

“No, I'm the doctor's helper,” he replied with a smirk. "I do the pre-exams.”

“Oh yeah and how does that work?”

Without warning her brother buried his face in her hindquarters and began to open mouth kiss her pussy.

Brandy's eyes flicked up over the top of her magazine as her daughter let out a brazen moan. “Really?” she muttered under her breath. Her eyes then shot to the window on the sliding door of the compartment. Hopefully no one would decide to drop in on them.

Pickle's tongue delved through her slit, stretching underneath to stroke her clit. Barley bit her lip as her shaking hoof scratched down the window. Her cheek pressed firmly against the glass fogging the window with shallow breaths. It was also fortuitous that they were currently traveling through a rural area thought their mother, looking out the big window.

It wasn't long until Pickle was fully aroused and rearing up to mount her. With her hooves and face still pressed against the glass he straddled her. His pulsing tip landed between her lower lips and he pushed inside, letting out a shuddering breath. Barley squeaked in approval at his entry.

Brandy put down her magazine in disbelief. “You're going to make a mess in there for the doctor,” she grumbled.

Pickle began to pump and they carried on like a couple of sex crazed zombies.

“Seriously you two, can you go settle this in the bathroom?"

They paused abruptly to look back at her, Pickle still hilted inside, Barley with that flushed, inebriated look on her face as she huffed fog on the glass.

“Okay fine,” she conceded with annoyance. “Just please hurry up before anyone sees.”

Brandy got out of her seat and went over to the door to monitor the window both to block the view into the compartment and to keep anyone from coming in.

The twins resumed their activities. On behest of his mother Pickle picked up the pace and began pounding his sister furiously, his thighs slapping her rump at a blistering speed. Barley vocalized her passionate ecstasy without reservation to the point where their mother thought others might hear through the wall even over the thundering wheels of the train. But she stood resolute as a sentinel without turning to shush them.

Barley's flank rippled and her growing stomach bounced forward and back under her brother's merciless pounding. He let out a grunt as he crossed the finish line. He stood up planting his hooves a top his sister's back. He kept his hips pushed firmly into her until his cock stopped pulsing.

Pickle let out a throaty sigh and then pulled out of barley leaving her panting red face smashed against the glass.

Brandy finally turned around to see her son already sitting on the bench his length retreating between his legs. Behind Barley's swishing tail she caught glimpses of the sloppy, overflowing aftermath of his efforts. Surely obstetricians were used to this kind of thing, maybe not usually this fresh though.

“Uh, Bar, Before you sit back down, go clean that up in the bathroom,” Brandy was quick to point out. - - -

“That certainly does sound like a lot of action," laughed Carrot not really knowing how to react.

“I admit I may have enabled them a little more in the early years,” posed Brandy. “But they still haven't gotten in significant trouble for public indecency, at least to my knowledge. I know they've mellowed out more as they got older and their etiquette has gotten much better but I'm perfectly fine not knowing about their exploits anymore.”

“They must have gotten pregnant pretty soon. How long did it take them?”

“It was less than a month. I was actually giving Barley fertility potions the whole time in secret.”

Carrot shrugged in bewilderment. “Why would you do that?”

“Well it wasn't because I couldn't wait for a grandfoal if that's what you're thinking. In fact I would have liked to have waited a few more years realistically. They're supposed to have… what's the word… ‘prodigious’ fertility and they do but your first conception can still be tricky even for foals of their abilities. Beyond the rutting part, which they clearly understood and appreciated, we were all still hesitant on the whole concept of being bonded and I wanted them to quickly have that revelation over pregnancy and parenthood. I wanted them to know that this is what it all meant and to prove to everyone that this is what we were supposed to be doing.”

Carrot scratched his chin, still a little ambivalent about the method. “How did everyone react to the pregnancy news?”

Brandy laughed. “Well I was expecting it to happen of course. But the twins were initially shocked. They knew where babies come from but being so caught up in the… physical part of the process I don't think it actually occurred to them that it could really happen to them. While they were fully sexually mature at an earlier age, they were still just kids in so many other ways.” - - -

“I made you lunches today,” chimed Brandy.

“Oh, thanks,” said Pickle, taking the little brown bag from her. He stuffed it into his school pack and snapped it shut.

Their mother looked to the table where Barley’s breakfast sat untouched. The filly had yet to appear that morning. “Bar, your breakfast,” she called. “Where are you? You're going to be late.”

On cue Barley staggered into the kitchen without her beanie and looking rather palid. “I can't go to school today,” she groaned. “I feel sick. I'm throwing up.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.” Her mother rushed to her and put a hoof to her head but didn't feel a fever. They all ate the same thing last night and no one else was sick; it was rather suspicious.

“Uh, hold on a moment; I'll get you some medicine.” She went to the cupboard and shook a couple of anti-nausea chewables from a bottle.

Brandy returned to her daughter and presented her with both the medicine and a little white box in her hoof.

Barley slid the well known chewables into her hoof with her wing tip and toss them in her mouth but became distracted by the unfamiliar box. “What's this?” she mumble as she crunched the medicine with her teeth.

“It's a pregnancy test,” explained her mother grimly.

Barley blinked. “What? You don't think I'm pregnant, do you?”

“I'd say there's a not insignificant chance with the way things have been going.

Wrinkles deepened on Barley's forehead. “Well what do I do with it?”

“Take it to the bathroom and read the instructions. Pickle and I will wait for you.”

Her daughter shot her an incredulous look but turned away slowly to go back to the bathroom where she'd been throwing up.

“You already had that test just laying around?” asked Pickle, setting down his pack.

“Sure did. I bought it for you, just in case. It was going to happen eventually, right?”

“You think she's really pregnant?”

“If everything in your bodies is working the way it's supposed to and you're not using birth control, it's just a matter of time before it happens. Why not right now?”

Pickle frowned. “Is that okay?”

“Yes. This is how it's supposed to work for you. It's the other half of the breeding process, you know?”

He scratched his head. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense but we don't know anything about that part of the process.”

“I do,” countered his mother. “And I'll be happy to teach you. Don't worry about it. If she's really pregnant, we've still got a lot of time before we'll be dealing with a new foal.”

They waited for a couple more minutes before they heard a door open and Barley reentered the room with the paper instructions and the little test in her hoof. Her expression was one of worried skepticism.

“Um… according to this I'm pregnant… I guess… Does that seem right?”

And there it was, the fruit of all her behind the scenes efforts and their mindless, unending rutting. A flood of emotions surged through Brandy's mind. It was really happening. Their first child. They were so young.

“Let me see it,” offered her mother, coming up to her. She examined the very simple test, noting the two obvious lines that had shown up.

Seeing the proof was enough to make her heart burst, whether it was from excitement or terror, she didn't know. Despite this she felt the moment warranted a smile so she gave them one. “Well, look at that. You're going to have a baby. Isn't that amazing?”

Pickle and Barley exchanged wary glances.

“Yeah, I guess so,” agreed Pickle numbly.

The three shared in an awkward silence until Barley finally asked “Are we kind of young to have a baby?”

Brandy put a hoof on her daughter's withers. “It might feel that way right now but according to all of our research no you're not,” she assured them. “You are the top specimens of virility and fertility in all of ponykind and this is what's supposed to be happening the moment you reach sexual maturity. But just so everything's out in the open, I have actually been giving you fertility potions for almost three weeks.”

“Why?” the mystified twins asked in unison.

“Because for younger fillies often their reproductive systems are not regulated the best, making conception difficult for a while. I know you still have some doubts about this whole thing. I just wanted you to get comfortable with every part of your destiny as soon as possible but based on your completely blindsided reaction to pregnancy maybe I could have waited for a little bit before intervening. But babies are cool right?” She smiled again and looked back and forth between the two of them.

Pickle and barley looked at each other and shrugged.

“See, this is what I'm talking about; you're going to love it.” - - -

Mrs. Cake nodded, legitimately riveted by the weird story. “So, Barley was pretty young when she had her first. She wasn't nearly the size of a full grown mare. How did her labor go?”

“I bet afterwards it just felt like you were raising three kids," Carrot laughed.

“Yeah, it does feel that way in the beginning,” agreed Brandy. They're totally clueless at first but they have good instincts and pick it up quickly. And the labor went fine. That was a surprise to me even though all the research I'd read said that that's a normal advantage that breeders have. Fewer complications too. Every one of her foals was born vaginally and healthy. They wanted another one immediately. I don't know that they needed it but I did help them out with that… as soon as it was medically allowed of course.” - - -

Brandy walked to the twins bedroom carrying an awake and very squirmy Tornado on her back. Without knocking she poked her head through the door. They no longer cared about privacy.

Her kids were both passed out hard in their bed exhausted from another long night of tending to the baby. For a moment she wondered if she should just let them sleep but then decided that they would much rather wake up for this morning.

“Pickle, Barley,” she called. “Wake up.”

Pickle stirred lethargically and slowly cracked his eyes open. “Huh,” he groaned.

“Guess what today is,” she said excitedly as he rubbed his face. “It's the end of pelvic rest.”

Pickle's eyes shot the rest of the way open. He turned to his sister and began to shake her desperately like he’d just remembered that it was Hearth's Warming morning. “Barley, wake up! We can have sex now!”

Barley shot bolt upright with wide eyes. “It’s today?”

“Yes," nodded their mother.

Barley threw off the comforter, rolled over on top of her brother and pinned him to the mattress in one fluid motion. She wrapped her lips around his ravenously, wanting to get him inside her as soon as possible. They moaned in concert hooves caressing all over each other.

“Wait, no not just yet,” pleaded their mother. “I have more surprises for you and I've got your fertility potions in the kitchen. You're officially trying for number two now, remember?”

The fact that they were struggling on the steepest of learning curves with their first child and still so eager to make another one was a testament to the power of their biological instinct to breed.

Now semi aroused, the twins wandered out the door toward the kitchen. Brandy followed them there. She placed Tornado in his swing and gave it a push. Then she went to the table and pulled the cover off of the dish in the center to reveal a chocolate cake.

“Ta-da! I know the rutting you get to do is its own reward but Tornado and I also made you a cake for your special day. She gestured to the frosted top which read Trying for Number 2!

“Wow, thanks Mom.”

“These are your potions.” She pointed to two full cups in front of their chairs. That one's Barley's and this is yours, Pickle. Go ahead and start drinking while I cut the cake.”

The twins took their seats next to each other and quickly downed their fertility potions.

Ogling the cake, they began to salivate while their mother brought out the big knife. She cut half of the cake into slices and served them all up. Forgoing the use of their forks, the twins engaged their slices with a mix of hoof shoveling and plate gobbling, lifting it in its entirety to their mouths so that they could scarf it down.

Brandy furrowed her brow in concern. “Oh my, this isn't going exactly as I envisioned it but I'm glad you like it.”

The two made eye contact whilst in the middle of their feeding frenzy and suddenly the spark of lust had returned. They were at each other once more, lips and tongues doing battle while they sighed and moaned. With chocolate smeared on their hooves and faces sucking frosting off of each other's lips and licking cake out of each other's mouths.

Breeding had come roaring back to the forefront of their brains and they had completely forgotten how to act like civilized ponies.

Their mother watched in slack-jawed wonder as their lustful fury reached a fever pitch and Pickle hoisted Barley roughly onto the edge of the table in preparations for finally reuniting with her fillyhood.

“Not on the table,” blurted their mother. “Remember? Not on the table.”

“Oh yeah,” gasped Pickle pulling away. He began spinning around looking for an alternative surface to rut on, his erection swaying beneath him.

“I made you a little spot in the living room,” said Brandy. She hurried from the kitchen, trying to accommodate their obvious urgency as much as she could. Barley hopped from the table and they followed her into the living room.

“I know you like rutting on top of things, so I prepared this little spot for you.” She gestured to a chest-high cabinet with a towel draped over the top. The piece of furniture had sat there since they moved in. It stood against the wall with a flipped up pillow placed presumably for Barley's back to rest against.

“This looks great,” gasped the filly as she sprang up onto the surface. She sat her rump down on the towel and parted her hind legs.

Pickle reared up at perfect eye level with his sister. They could usually only get in this position at the edge of the bed but she was never able to stay upright like this for very long. When they looked into each other's eyes they realized the advantages of their mother's setup.

He learned forward and pressed his lips to hers, pinning her back against the wall. She moaned softly and reached down to stroke his cock. Guiding it around, she rubbed his tip up and down over her clit. Then she pushed it southward until he nestled in her opening.

As soon as Pickle felt himself aligned with her he pushed all the way into her wet folds. The two moaned emphatically into each other's mouths as they at last returned to the kind of bodily unity they'd gone so long without. His hips began to pump while they continued to sensually sample the chocolate on each other’s faces. Their abundantly lubricated loins squelched with every hard thrust.

Barley whimpered as her brother's length filled her up. She wasn't sure if it was the position, her post pregnancy body or going for so long without it but it felt different. He felt bigger. She reeled him in with all four legs and threw her head back. Her hips rocked back and forth in a desperate attempt to meet his and she cried out.

Pickle nipped at the nape of her exposed neck sending shivers down her spine. He grunted as his thrusts increased in power and frequency. Pressure was quickly gathering in his base. Barley's tongue hung out, her pelvis jostling. One foreleg clung around his neck while the other slipped down between them to tease herself over the edge. Her body tensed and she screamed.

Pickle clamped on with his teeth, hindquarters shaking as so much pent up semen surged out of him. Their bodies relaxed together, eliciting another loud squelch from below.

“See, wasn't that a great idea?” chimed their mother supportively from the doorway. She'd turned away for a majority of their session.

“Yeah, it was,” panted Pickle, slipping out of his sister. He watched as a fat dollop of fresh cum dripped from her heavily creampied pussy and onto the awaiting towel. If they were trying for number two, they seemed to be off to a good start.

“According to the bottle you two should be able to go all day if you want,” informed Brandy. “So get it all out… so to speak. That wasn't how I meant it. Anyway, I thought I'd go run errands with Tornado so you could have a little more free time.”

“That sounds great, agreed Barley, still sitting on the cabinet.

“Alright, we'll see you later. Have fun.” She plodded away to the little swing but then looked back at them. “I think we should make this a postpartum tradition,” she nodded.