Getting Off Your High Horse
Knock Knock Knock-Knock Knock
Anon stepped after rapping on the door. He wasn’t opposed to visiting anypony - in fact, he enjoyed spending time with the colorful, cheerful, oftentimes magical denizens of Equestria, although this particular occasion was a bit out of the ordinary. If Fluttershy had been telling the truth, and he had no reason to believe she wasn’t, she had a friend who was dying to see him - the problem was that this friend lived in the middle of nowhere.
As he glanced back at the overgrown trail behind him, his smile wavered. After riding a train to Sire’s Hollow, a small town far to the south west of Ponyville, he’d had to walk for the better part of an hour to reach his destination. The good news was that he knew he was at the right place, having followed Fluttershy’s directions to the letter - the bad news was that it was starting to get dark and he wasn’t sure how long his visit was going to last.
“Hello?” he blared, unable to mask a tinge of concern from his voice.
Shifting over and shielding his eyes with one hand, he peeked through a nearby window. The cottage was definitely lived in, he could tell that for sure, although there was no guarantee his would-be host was even home. When he lifted a hand to knock again, the sound of approaching hooves crept to his ear.
He turned toward the source of the noise and found himself peering over at a little green mare with violet eyes and fiery dreadlocks for a mane and tail. “Tree Hugger?”
With her half-lidded eyes wandering up to his face, she smiled. “You gotta be Anon ~ right?”
“What gave it away?” he chuckled, amused and relieved that his trip hadn’t been wasted.
“The arms, the legs,” she languidly began, looking to each of his limbs in turn, “and the fingers are a good start. So, like, you wanna come in to sit? Must’ve been a long ride getting out this far.”
Stepping aside as she pulled a key from her mane and trotted up to the door, he nodded. “Plus it was a bit of a hike.”
“On two legs, yeah, I can imagine,” she quietly responded. “Mi casa es su casa, dude.”
He walked in after her and grinned. After hearing so much about Tree Hugger from Fluttershy, his lofty expectations had been met almost instantly. Her abode, from what he could see from the entryway, looked comfortable as all get-out - on top of that, the place had a nice smell to it. The aroma of patchouli and sandalwood hung in the air, brightening his mood and reminding him of a home he’d left nearly a year ago.
Leaving her key on a table in the foyer, Tree Hugger looked back and waved for him to follow. “Just make yourself comfortable and put your feet up.”
“This is a pretty nice place,” he noted while leaning over to remove his shoes. “Is that incense?”
She continued onward and around a corner. “Yeah, man, I’m a sucker for the stuff. Want some tea?”
“That’d be great,” he sighed.
Strolling ahead, he stopped at a small intersection. To his right, Tree Hugger meandered into a kitchen - on his left was a small living room. While the home wasn’t the largest, being quaint by pony standards, there was plenty of space for a mare and a relatively large, bipedal guest.
Pointing to the living room, he peaked a brow. “Mind if I sit in here?”
She shrugged as she glanced back at him. “Dude, you can sit on the floor, the counter, on my coffee table - wherever, man.”
“A chair will do,” he chirped.
Man - jeez, he hadn’t been called that in a casual way in ages. Ponies were an interesting lot, with all but a handful being shocking pleasant to be around, and Tree Hugger was already growing on him. Good tastes, a nice home, and relaxed demeanor? Yeah, he could already see why Fluttershy was good friends with her.
Sauntering to and seating himself on a sofa, he crossed his legs. “I gotta say, I am loving your pad!”
“For real?” she called back. “That’s, like, super cool. So what kinda tea do you want?”
“Got chai?” he asked, barely able to see her green tush within the kitchen.
She laughed while presumably setting a kettle to boil. “Chai, yeah, that sounds great. Did you know it’s, like, kinda silly though? Chai just means tea, so when people say chai tea, they’re, like, just saying tea tea.”
Laughing alongside her, Anon shook his head. He’d only just met her, and she was already growing on him. As he casually inspected her abode, drinking in every little detail, his smile broadened. Along with several potted plants hanging from the ceiling and in front of her window, she had a well-stocked book-case, a record player, and there was a didgeridoo resting in the corner - as if those weren’t interesting enough, her sense of design was on-point.
Colorful, almost psychedelic tapestries hung against the walls, giving the chamber a bright, otherworldly feel. “If you don’t mind me asking, where’d you get these?”
Tree Hugger followed his gaze as she trotted in and placed a mug before him. “The arras? I made those a while back ~ why? Do you want one?”
“You made those?” he scoffed.
Lazily returning to the kitchen, she nodded. “Sure did, dude. If want one, you can have it. It’s the least I can do for you coming all the way out here to see me.”
“I could do that,” he grunted.
“Sure you can,” she countered, returning with a second, steaming cup of tea and a plate of brownies. Easing herself down beside him, she patted his thigh with a forehoof. “Sure you can, man - like, it’s super easy.”
As he peered down at the platter of moist, delectable looking confections, his stomach grumbled. “How about we think about it.”
She smirked and motioned down at the plate. “Help yourself. They’re totally organic, home made, and they still warm - ya know, because I just got them out of the oven before you showed up on my doorstep. It’s kinda funny - I wasn’t expecting you to show up this late, but everything kinda worked out just right.”
“Sorry about that,” he groaned while pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was supposed to be here a few hours ago, but there was a delay at the station and -”
“Don’t sweat it, man,” she coolly interrupted. Leaning forward, she plucked one of the brownies from the tray and offered it to him. “So, like, how’d you end up here anyways?”
He took the proffered confection and hesitated just before taking a bite. “Here in Equestria?”
“Yeah. It’s cool if you don’t want to talk about it or anything, since you’ve probably told the same story like a million times by now, but I wanna hear it straight from the horse’s mouth,” she noted before stopping and lightly chuckling. “I mean, human’s mouth.”
She wasn’t wrong about him recounting the tale of how he’d ended up in a land of talking pastel equines more times than he could count, although he didn’t mind sharing it. Truth be told, there really wasn’t much to tell. He’d simply gone to bed one night, dozed off, then woken up in Equestria - it was just as simple and inexplicable. Helping himself to a sip of the tea, he held up a finger.
“That’s some really good tea,” he remarked, having swallowed the small mouthful. “Alright, where to begin…”
Having made himself comfortable, he regaled her with the events that led up to, and those shortly after, he’d woken up in Equestria. Tree Hugger listened with rapt fascination, hanging on his every word and only interjecting with prudent comments or shrewd questions, although it wasn’t long before the conversation drifted off course. What began as a one-sided account quickly blossomed into a discussion about the similarities and differences between Earth and Equestria, his history, and how he’d adapted to his newfound homeland - all the while, he and his gracious host nibbled away at the delectable brownies and sipped at their tea.
Slipping from the couch, Tree Hugger picked up the nearly empty platter. “Last one, dude, go on and take it.”
He faltered for a moment, his hand hovering over the last chocolatey square. “You sure?”
“Oh man, yeah, she’s all yours - actually, follow me for a second,” she replied. Waiting until he’d gotten to his feet, she led him into the kitchen. “If you’re hungry, I’ve got all sorts of snacks and stuff - plus, like, I was gonna order us some pizza.”
“But it’s not…” he trailed off as he glanced over a window.
It was pitch black outside, meaning one of two things - either they’d been talking for way, way longer than he’d thought, or he’d arrived much later than he’d anticipated. The only reason he’d hiked out to her house right after arriving at Sire’s Hollow was because he would have felt terrible for leaving her waiting in suspense for him, although his plan on a brief visit, followed by a walk back to one of the motels in town, had been derailed.
Heedless of his confounded state, she trotted to her table. “So what kinda toppings do you want? I’m down for pretty much anything, as long as it’s not anchovies.”
“Supreme works,” he murmured. Closing and rubbing his eyes, he licked his lips. “By chance, do you have anything to drink? I’m really thirsty for some reason.”
She nodded as she checked a number of boxes on the small slip of parchment. “Sure do. I’ve got kombucha, ginger beer, root beer, regular beer, and I think a little bit of tepache in the fridge. Glasses are up in the cupboard.”
Moving on instinct, he reached over and opened the closest cabinet. “What’s tepache?”
“If you like pineapple, you’ll love it. It’s like ginger beer but fruitier and sweeter,” she explained. “Hey, I’m kinda feeling garlic knots. You want some garlic knots?”
He nodded emphatically as the thought of buttery, garlicky baked goods instantaneously dominated his thoughts. “I would kill for some garlic knots.”
“Woah, dude, no need for that,” she snickered. “I’ve got other munchies to tide us over until the order gets here!” Once the scroll was rolled and sealed, it disappeared in a flash of spectral, harlequin flame. “If it’s not here in an hour, we get to eat for free.”
Kneeling down and opening her fridge, Anon stared in wonder at a veritable cornucopia of goodies. The entire bottom shelf was lined with an assortment of brewing bottles, each a different color of glass, while the middle and upper areas held a menagerie of fruits, leftovers, and condiments. He grabbed the first thing he saw, something that piqued his interest above all the rest, and held it out to her.
“That’s not tepache, dude,” she tutted. “That’s just hash butter. I - oh, my guy, we should totally make some garlic butter with it for the garlic knots. It’ll be like, ok, double the butter and double the garlic!”
“Oh my god, that sounds ~ wait,” he croaked. “Hash butter?”
“Yeah, I made it myself,” she proudly declared. “Takes a bit of doing to whip of a batch, but I’ve -”
“Where’s your bathroom?” he coughed.
She turned and pointed down a hallway. “Second door on the right. Everything alright, man?”
“Y…yeah,” he stammered, “I just gotta - uh…”
Dismissively waving a forehoof, she shook her head. “Say no more. Just remember - if it’s yellow, let it mellow, but if it’s brown, flush it down.”
Her joke fell on deaf ears as he marched past her and down the corridor. “Got it.”
He quickly found his way into the bathroom, closed the door behind himself, and made a beeline to the mirror. His heart was racing, everything felt off, and he was absolutely parched, although it wasn’t until he saw the reflection of his wide, bloodshot eyes that his fears were confirmed. He was high - at least, he was pretty sure he was high, and the revelation evoked a maelstrom of emotions within him.
Never, not one single time, had he partaken in the devil’s cabbage, even though he’d had plenty of opportunities in the past. Looking down at the sink, he wavered. Just a second or two prior, he’d had an idea for something that might help him, something involving water, but the thought was gone as quickly as it had come to him. Turning around for some reason, he drew his hands over his face.
Oh god - oh god what was he going to do? He was hours and hours away from home, it was already dark outside, and he was baked - worse still, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to make it back to Sire’s Hollow if he tried. What would Twilight think when she heard about him getting stoned and making an ass of himself ~ hell, what would Celestia and Luna think?! Sitting down on the toilet, he massaged his temples and closed his eyes.
He’d heard plenty of stories from friends and classmates about what it was like to be high, yet he was woefully unprepared for the experience. His senses felt heightened, like colors were more vivid and every little sound demanded his attention, while his mind was awash fearful possibilities of what was going to become of him. Given how many brownies he’d wolfed down, irrespective of how much hash butter Tree Hugger had used to make them, he was going to be in for a long night.
“You ok in there?” Tree Hugger inquired from outside.
Shaken from his disjointed thoughts, he looked to the door. “Yeah - actually, no.”
There was a brief pause before she cleared her throat. “There’s toilet paper under the sink.”
“Not that,” he groused. Getting up and marching over, he opened the door and loomed over her. “Am…am I high?”
The question didn’t make sense, even for his frazzled brain. Everything he’d learned about weed, what little that was, told him that he was well and thoroughly baked, but he wanted - needed to hear it from somepony else. Swallowing hard and reminding himself of just how much he wanted something cold and refreshing to drink, he sank to one knee before her.
She took a step forward, closing the small gap between them, and reached up to touch his face. “Not as high as you’re going to get.”
Unsure if he’d heard her correctly, he blinked. “Huh?”
“Dude, you had like six - no, seven brownies,” she tittered. Seeing the terrified look on his face, she went quiet. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. For as chill as you are, you’ve gotta have, like, a mad tolerance ~ right?”
His throat constricted while he locked eyes with her. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? For as gracious of a host as she was, inviting him in and making him feel genuinely welcome, she hadn’t said anything about feeding him weed brownies! Was she this way with everypony? Did she and Fluttershy get baked together? Why had he just…
“Everypony,” he breathed. “Ok, I’ve been wanting to ask about that one for a while. Why does everyone say everypony - that and anypony? There are a bunch of non-ponies all over the place, so wouldn’t it be better to say everyone or anyone?”
She beamed up at him and shied back. “We can talk all about that when we get back to the living room.”
Reflexively standing, he trailed after her while pondering the mysteries of the Equestrian universe. Had Equestria gotten its name before or after ponies had settled it ~ moreover, where were the rest of the equines in the world? He’d encountered a few zebras before - well, no, one zebra before, and he’d heard about Saddle Arabians, but where were the rest of the horse-like critters?
Finding himself sitting right next to Tree Hugger, he peaked a brow. “Another thing I - oh thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” she softly said as he took a cold, perspiring glass from her forehoof. “Lemme know if you -”
“Holy shit!” he exclaimed. While he’d only taken the tiniest sample of the beverage, his palate was alight with bold and wondrous flavors. “What’s this called again?”
“Tepache,” she serenely answered. “It’s, like, super easy to make. All you need is water, pineapple and sugar, but that’s just the base of it. My secret is to throw in some cinnamon and just a little tiny bit of ginger and hot pepper.”
He had to force himself not to chug the entire glass. The taste was, in a word, godly, and he would have to get the recipe from her. With the barest hint of kick on the back of his palate, he swallowed and smacked his chops - unfortunately, his enjoyment was short-lived. Her secret - simply hearing those two words strung together was enough to resummon his apprehensions with a vengeance.
As he went to confront her on what he should expect from his unintended head-trip, she slipped from the couch and trotted to her record player. “Might as well get some tunes going. What’s your flavor?”
“Pineapple,” he blurted, saying the first thing that came to mind. “I mean, I listen to all sorts of stuff.”
“Then we’ll let the hoof decide,” she cryptically announced. Extending one foreleg, she ran her hoof down a stack of vinyls then stopped somewhere around mid-way. “Let’s give this a listen and see what we’ve got.”
He went to take another draught of his drink, found the cup was empty, and grimaced. “Aw man…”
Without skipping a beat, seconds before hopping back onto the sofa, she snatched a large bottle from behind the arm of the couch. “Way ahead of you, dude.”
The sheer amazement that washed over him was enough to make his jaw hang slack. “Are…are you a magician or something?”
“Or something, yeah - magician, nah,” she hummed while she topped off his glass. “Just save a little room for the pizza.”
A bead of drool slipped past his lips at the mere mention of a hot, steaming pie. “I’m gonna - hold up.” He cut himself off and shot her a distressed look. “Are they any good though?”
“The pizza shop? Dude, they make the best pies this side of Fillydelphia!” she merrily asserted. Shimmying back into the far corner of the sofa, she wiggled her shoulders and lifted a hind leg onto the cushions. “Trust me, you’re gonna love it.”
Mirroring her on his respective side of the couch, he made himself comfortable. “This is nice.”
“Darn right it is,” she sighed. “Just vibing with my new human friend…”
He nodded and rolled his head back. “Yeah…”
Admittedly, things could have been worse. His drink was tasty as hell, there was a killer but unfamiliar song playing, and they’d soon have a hot, hopefully cheesy pizza to share - sure, there was a nagging sense that something was off at the back of his mind, but it couldn’t have been that important. While he pondered on the elusive enigma of what was wrong, or if there was anything wrong at all, it came to him.
He was stoned - of that he was absolutely certain. The physical sensations didn’t bother him all that much, being amplified to a degree, although his faculties were suffering greatly. It took everything he had to hold onto even simple thoughts, being distracted by even the most trivial things that came to mind, and it was anyone’s guess as to how long the experience was going to last.
“Hey,” he mumbled, “you said something about getting more high?”
She tapped her chin and vacantly peered up at the ceiling while he peered over at her. “For sure, yeah. I’m guessing you haven’t done many edibles?”
Leaning over and setting his glass on the coffee table, he scrunched his nose. “You could say that.”
“Ok, so, they hit a little different from smoking,” she replied. “Takes longer to kick in, usually an hour or so, and it kinda ramps up as it goes.
“Great,” he groaned.
With as bad off as he was already, it was hard to imagine how his condition could get worse - be that as it may, Tree Hugger was doing a fine job as a host - that was, excluding getting him stoned off his ass. Focusing on the relaxing tune and the tapestry hung over his head, he pursed his lips. As long as he didn’t hyper-fixate on anything distressing, slip into a bout of paranoia, or lose his cool, everything would probably be alright - probably.
Feeling something tap against his leg, he glanced over at Tree Hugger. “Sup?”
“So what’s it like having fingers? Are they really that useful or, like, are they more trouble than they’re worth?” she mused with a sleepy smirk on her muzzle.
As he lifted and inspected his hands, the spectacle of his waggling fingers became so fascinating that he couldn’t speak. His digits were pretty useful - then again, were they any better than hooves? Ponies could do everything he could, even without the use of magic or wings, and they’d built a fantastic, semi-modern society for themselves.
He shrugged while cracking his knuckles. “They’re ok, I guess.”
“Mind if I check them out?” she inquired.
Sliding over, he extended an arm toward her. “Knock yourself out.”
She smiled while turning his hand this way and that in her forehooves. “They’d got little tiny hooves on them.”
“Those are just nails,” he clarified, “but I guess they’re kinda like hooves.” The underside of her hoof was warm and soft, a sharp contrast to the hard, unyielding keratin surrounding it. “So how do you pick stuff up with those?”
Mesmerized by his digits, she rolled her shoulders. “Same way you pick up stuff, you just grab it and pick it up.”
Her explanation left much to be desired, yet it was profound. Ponies, people, creatures of any size or shape - they all just did things. Feeling as though he’d just unlocked some cosmic mystery, he nodded sagely and gingerly squeezed her forehoof. She was a good pony, he could tell, and he was already - crap.
“Damn it,” he hissed. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
She met his gaze while continuing to fondle his hand. “You just did, dude.”
Nearly sidetracked by her observation, he willed himself to concentrate. “Can I crash here tonight? With as late as it is, I’d rather not hike all the way back to Sire’s Hollow.”
“Say no more, my guy,” she blithely responded. Sliding off the couch and getting her hooves beneath her, she trotted away. “I already thought about this happening.”
He stood and walked up to her side while she strolled away. “You seriously expected this?”
“Kinda sorta. Depending on how things played out, I was gonna let you use my guest room,” she remarked. Disappearing into a doorway situated opposite of the bathroom, she flicked her tail. “Hope the bed is big enough for you.”
“If it’s not, I’ll just sleep on the couch or floor,” he laughed. “Wouldn’t be the first time I had to do that.”
Walking into the room after her, he was greeted by a small but functional bedchamber. The space, while somewhat tiny, was fully furnished and ready for guests. His gaze swept from one corner to another, drinking in the bed, a dresser, and a vanity, until it halted on something unbelievable - something he hadn’t thought existed in Equestria.
“You’ve got a bean bag chair?” he gasped.
“Heck yeah I do,” she guffawed. Casting herself onto the formless sack, she writhed until she was on her back. “Everypony should have one of these things.”
He agreed with her, in large part because he’d owned several bean bag chairs throughout his life, but his excitement about asking her where she’d gotten the thing was upended when she kicked out her hind legs and slipped her forehooves behind her head. Seeing naked ponies was nothing new, given that the overwhelming majority of them trotted about their daily lives wearing little or nothing at all, but the sight of her bare belly, modest bosoms above crotch, and the plump mound of her marehood was captivating.
Arching her back, she stretched and spread her hind legs further. “Something catch your eye, dude?”
“B…boobs,” he sputtered dumbly.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen boobs before - like, come on, man,” she snickered.
“I have, but they’re - um - different on a person,” he began. Making an outline over his chest, he tore his eyes off her goods. “On humans, boobs are up here.”
She pawed at her flat, furry chest while cocking her head. “Wouldn’t they get in the way up there?”
“Not really,” he muttered, finding it increasingly difficult not to ogle her breasts or immaculately presented loins. “Folks just -”
“What about this though? Humans have their fun bits in the same place as us ponies ~ right?” she inquired as she ran a forehoof down to her nethers.
He nodded slowly. “M…mm-hmm…”
“Ya know, that’s one thing I’ve been wondering about ever since I heard about you from Fluttershy. She told me that you, like, always wear clothes around, so it’s kind of a mystery what you’ve got under there,” she tittered. “You trying to hide something?”
His jaw flapped wordlessly as he forehoof glided over her marehood. “Not really. I…are you wet?”
Flippantly pawing at her sex, she giggled like a schoolfilly who’d just been caught doing something naughty. “Maybe a little. Pot always gets me kinda worked up, and it’s been a long, long time since I’ve had a stallion over.”
“I…I’m not a stallion though,” he flatly stated as he stared at her damp, winking sex.
“You’re still quite a stud though, if you don’t mind me saying,” she countered. “Tall, chill, you’ve got some crazy stories, and you came all the way out here just to see me - honestly, I’m kinda surprised you’re not fending off mares with a stick.”
Flattered though he was, her comments landed a bit close for comfort. He’d only recently began to contemplate trying his hand at romantic affairs, seeing as how he wouldn’t be getting home anytime soon or possibly ever, but he hadn’t summoned the courage to try and find a marefriend for himself. Transfixed by her shamelessness and brazen flirting, he started when she burst into laughter.
“Speaking of sticks, looks like somepony has got some serious wood,” she guffawed.
As he peeked down at himself, his blood ran cold. At some point or another, his baser, subconscious urges had gotten the better of him. Straining against the fabric of his pants, his turgid manhood was plainly visible. At a loss for words, he glared down at his treacherous erection with a mixture of contempt and dismay.
“Wanna have a quickie?”
He reeled back as though her question had landed a literal blow to him. “What?”
“A quickie,” she calmly repeated. “Listen, we got some time until the pizza gets here, we’re both a little worked up, and I’d bet my bottom bit that you haven’t gotten laid in a while.”
Lifting a finger to argue with her, he remained silent. She’d been right on all accounts, calling him out and presenting a simple but shockingly effective argument, and he was in no state of mind to quarrel with her, but that didn’t mean he could just have sex with her ~ right? She didn’t actually think he’d take his pants off and give her a roll in the hay ~ did she?
“What’ve you got to lose?” she urged. “At worst, you have a little fun - at best, we can sleep in my bed tonight and really cut loose.”
Cut loose ~ what did that even mean? Was Tree Hugger a kinky mare who would ruin him for anyone or anything else? Would she tie him up and toy with him until he was begging for relief? Had she done this with other random stallions who’d simply come by to chat with her? Of all the questions he contended with, one rose above the rest ~ just how good were mares in bed?
He fumbled with his belt buckle for a split second before glowering over at her. “J…just a few ground rules. First of all, you don’t go telling Fluttershy about this - secondly, no matter how this plays out, don’t tease me.”
“Cross my heart and hope to fly,” she solemnly swore while drawing an x over her bosom. “But you gotta promise not to go blabbing about this yourself ~ alright?”
“I promise,” he huffed.
Altering course and saving his pants for last, he grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Stories abound of trysts like this, when two folks who’d just met one another had a passionate exchange, although he never would have believed he’d be lucky enough to experience one himself. As he unfastened his belt and fiddled with the button on his pants, his heart started to face.
“No need to rush,” she sighed. “It’s not a race, dude.”
He kept quiet while bending forward and drawing his pants and underwear down his legs. Between the weed, seeing an admittedly attractive mare rubbing herself, and his protracted, involuntary abstinence from anything sexual, his libido had seized the reins and compelled him to act. Would he regret crossing the interspecies boundary with a mare he hadn’t known several hours prior? Possibly. Was he too turned on to care about the consequences of his lustful actions? Absolutely.
Straightening up, he put himself on display and anxiously threw his arms out to his sides. “I h…hope that -”
“Dude,” she gasped in rapt awe, “you’re, like, huge…”
“R…really?” he stuttered.
With her heavily-lidded eyes locked onto his package, she gnawed her lower lip. “Mm-hmm…”
Her sultry, guttural tone, paired with how drenched her marehood had become, boosted his ego and thrilled him like few things ever had. He’d never paid any mind to how gifted stallions were, being neither gay nor wishing to find out if the age-old adage ‘hung like a horse’ applied to ponies, but it stood to reason that he was as or potentially even more endowed than his pint-sized, equine brothers. Emboldened, he rocked his hips from side to side and showed himself off.
She moaned softly and beckoned with her free forehoof. “You gonna just wag that dick around, or are we doing this?”
Crossing to her, he knelt down, took her fetlocks in his hands, and paused. Most men in his position wouldn’t have waited to get down to business, but he wasn’t most men - actually, it was entirely possible that he was the only man who’d ever been in this particular position. Though his mind was as hazy or hazier than ever, he wanted - needed to take things slow.
Lowering his head to her groin, he drew a breath through his nose. The scent of her arousal was ambrosial, familiar enough to recognize but a far departure from that of a human woman, and it spurred him onward. He turned his eyes to her face, peering past her modest bosoms, while he kissed his way up her thigh.
“B…buck,” she whispered. “Didn’t think you were this freaky…”
“Freaky?” he parroted after lifting his face just a tad.
She nodded down at him. “Most stallions don’t really care about warming us mares up…”
Grinning from ear to ear, he released her legs and slowly descended upon her sex. “I’m not a stallion…”
He struck like lightning and wrapped his lips around her winking, engorged clit. His taste buds went alight with the tart, almost floral flavor of her lust as he nursed on the delicate bud of flesh. It was his first time doing anything amorous with a pony, although his intuition, bolstered by the way she groaned and locked a fetlock to the back of his neck, told him everything he needed to know.
Running his tongue lower and between the hot, velvety folds of her marehood, he hummed contentedly. Fuck it - while he would never have guessed that he’d end up killing two birds with one stone that evening, getting backed with and subsequently bedding a delightful little mare, there was no way in hell that he was going to complain about his circumstances. While he indulged his curiosity and tended to his gracious host’s needs, a giddiness overtook him.
He hadn’t been this excited since - well, ever. There he was, kneeling down and eating out somepony he’d only intended to chat with, and he was having the time of his life. Slipping his arms under her knees, he glided his hands around her waist and to her belly. It was ironic - she’d only asked about his fingers earlier, and now he was going to show her what they were capable of.
Shudderingly exhaling, she tensed her hind legs and held him firmly to her crotch as he tweaked her nipples. “Y…you keep this up, I m…might have to - Mmmmph - keep you…”
He couldn’t have said anything if he tried - still, he gave a muffled chuckle in response to her claim. It may have been due to how baked he was, or maybe all mares were as incredible as Tree Hugger - either way, everything about her was enthralling. Her alluring bouquet, the exotic flavor on his palate, the heat against his face and tongue - each was more amazing than the last.
Feasting upon her for what felt like an eternity, he eventually shook himself free and rocked back. It was impossible for him to say how long he’d been ravishing her, but that wasn’t important - what was important was that his cock ached so badly that he couldn’t stand it any further. As he shuffled forward and between her parted thighs, she closed her legs around his waist.
Whatever he’d been about to say was lost on him as he eased into her depths. The sensations her marehood afforded were an order of magnitude better than anything he’d anticipated. Both hotter and far more snug than any woman he’d ever had sex with, her velvety confines embraced him in a way that defied all logical belief.
“J…just give me a second,” she rasped when he finally bottomed out.
He gulped and fretfully nodded. Every instinct he had screamed at him to plow her with reckless abandon, although he did as she’d asked. This was something special, a singular experience for the both of them, and he’d be damned if he was going to fuck it up. Waiting for as long as he could, he gradually withdrew and leaned over her.
With his hands to either side of her face, he nervously smiled down at her. “Ready?”
Tightening her grasp on him, using both her hind legs and her immaculate pelvic control, she smiled. “Yeah, go for it.”
His first languid thrust caused them both to shudder, his second rewarded him with a soft moan from her, and his third made his toes curl. While he’d taken the lead and was doing the lion’s share of the work, she was no slouch in the matter. She fought his every backstroke, tightly clamping around his fleeing length, while relaxing on his plunges.
“This is so fucking hot,” he thought aloud.
She caressed his lower back with a hoof as she wrapped a foreleg around the back of his neck. “Wanna make it hotter…?”
Watching her close her eyes, he succumbed to his primal longings and locked lips with her. What started as an innocent, even awkward kiss acted as a catalyst. She bucked her hips to meet his thrusts, he snaked a hand under her tush, and their bodies became entwined while their tongues met.
With a symphony of sinful hums and stifled whimpers echoing throughout the room, their passion soared. She gave as good as she got, matching every ounce of his zeal, while he angled his plunges toward her g-spot. Judging from the noises she made and how hard she was breathing, he had to assume he was doing something right - alas, he couldn’t have fathomed just how much she was enjoying herself.
After what couldn’t have been more than a handful of minutes, she tensed from head to hoof and mewled into his mouth. Her heavenly depths spasmed around him as a geyser of sweltering nectar erupted over his loins. Taken aback from her climactic deluge, he pulled back and broke the kiss.
“S…sorry,” she wheezed. “G…guess I - Cough - s…should have warned you that I’m a squi-Mmph?!”
The orgasmic torrent of her juices, coupled with her sheepish request, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Each of his thrusts came harder and faster than the last, he did his damnedest to jam his tongue down her throat, and he held her tightly while he ravaged her. Not only had he proven that he was capable of pleasing a mare, but he’d done so with ease.
There were times in one’s life when they lost all control, falling into a frenzy of desire or fury - for Anon, being high off his ass and getting the best pussy he’d ever had, that time came when Tree Hugger came over him like a busted fire hydrant. Dragging his tongue from her muzzle, he pecked his way over her cheek and down to her neck.
In a way, he felt like a kid in a candy store - spoiled for choice and unable to fully appreciate any of the wonders she had to offer. His every sense was alight, the pleasure coursing through him was unimaginable, and the fact that his newfound friend with benefits was having as much or more fun than him was the cherry on top. As he lightly bit her collar, she howled out and endured a second, even more powerful climax.
On and on he went, rutting her with everything he had, until the magical moment finally arrived. He’d tried to restrain himself, all but begging to last just a little longer - alas, it was all for not. Teetering at his limit, with his thighs quaking and manhood throbbing, he hilted and came.
Tree Hugger joined him at the gates of nirvana, squealing in delight while his essence flowed into her. He wasn’t, nor had he ever been a spiritual man, yet the shared experience felt downright mythical. Making out with one another, they rode out their ecstasy until their bodies fell still and silent.
He hated to imagine the unseemly scene they’d made. The bean bag chair, along with the floor and his lower half, were drenched, both he and Tree Hugger were covered in sweat, and he could feel his spunk leaking out of her. Whether or not they’d eventually regret their impulsive and admittedly reckless fuck-fest was anyone’s - er - anypony’s guess, yet he relished the warmth and comfort she afforded.
Her limbs quaked and fell limply to her sides as she released him and threw her head back. “Sweet Celestia - that was, like, that was the best lay I’ve ever had.”
At her admission, the corners of his lips turned up. There was no possible way that she could fake an orgasm of that - if she had, she deserved whatever Equestria’s equivalent of an Academy Award. While he hugged her tighter, a snicker escaped him.
Embracing her, he collapsed. “Same. For the record, I don’t think I can go back to human chicks. Do you think-”
Knock knock knock
They froze and looked to the door in tandem. His mind raced, struggling in vain to figure out who the hell was outside, while a nonplussed expression blossomed on her face. She looked as surprised as he felt, compounding his confusion and sullying his joy. Whoever or whatever was outside, their timing couldn’t have been worse.
“Oh shoot,” she cursed. “Dude, it’s the delivery mare.”
Anon sailed into a panic as he rolled off her and unsheathed his softening tool. “W…what do we do?”
“I got this,” she grumbled. Rolling over and getting to her hooves, she stumbled to the door like a newborn fawn. “You get cleaned up or something while I get the order.”
He got himself as tidied up as he could, throwing on his underwear while leaving the mess they’d made to be dealt with later, and scampered after her. The only thing that could make the situation any better than it already was was some pizza and another glass of that tepache stuff, and he couldn’t have cared less about hanging out in his undies to get it - plus it wasn’t like Tree Hugger hadn’t seen every part of him anyways. Rushing down the hallway, he watched as she kicked the front door closed and presented a box with a bag atop it.
Licking her chops, uncaring of the snail’s trail of jizz she’d left behind herself, she trotted back to the living room. “Hope you’re ready, because, man, this is the good stuff right here.”
He practically swooned as he peered over at her. Their relationship may not amount to anything more than a fun night, but there was no guarantee that it wouldn’t become something more than that. Having joined her on the couch, with his mouth watering and awash in euphoric bliss, he opened the bag and grabbed one of the fresh, still-warm garlic knots.
“So, like, what now?” he asked while offering her the buttery bite.
Taking the knot, she tittered. “We pig out - duh - after that, we’ll have to see what happens, my guy…”
She was right, because of course she was. With a full night ahead of him, and having the better part of the next day until he was due to depart, the sky was the limit. He may have been wrong, but something told him that this wasn’t going to be the last time he paid Tree Hugger a visit…
