Price Gouging

by CogsTheBrony

Rating: mature
Tags: Big Macintosh, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Sex
Length: 2232

Filthy Rich wants apples for cheap. Big Macintosh wants to get laid.

Filthy Rich wants to increase the profits of his chain of stores.

Big Macintosh has other ideas.

This is not in the same continuity as "Apple Branches".

Published 2012-02-03 02:02:36 UTC
Last updated 2012-02-03 02:02:36 UTC

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This is going to be porn, of the homosexual pony sort. Don’t look at it if you’re not supposed to. Thank you.

The brown earth pony ran a hoof through his slicked-back mane, adjusted his tie, and gave his reflection a gleaming smile. “Rich, my dear boy, you are going to make a mint,” he whistled at his reflection.

With that, he turned, trotted in place a few times as per his good luck ritual, and began to make his way towards Sweet Apple Acres.

Big Macintosh lifted his head and turned to face the slowly-approaching figure, and frowned when he recognized Filthy Rich - “Rich” to his... acquaintances. Ah wonder what th’ bit-pinchin’ miser wants now.

He nodded amicably when the salespony neared the fence. “Afternoon, Filthy.”

The entrepreneur twisted his lips into a grimace for a fraction of a second; if Macintosh hadn’t been watching for it, it’d have slipped right by him. “Good afternoon... Big Macintosh.”

“So, what brings you out t’ Sweet Apple Acres today? Th’ zap apples are long gone, y’ know.”

Mr. Rich coughed and looked up at the sky, doing his best to feign innocence. “Actually...”

The red stallion tuned him out. After years of dealing with the other pony, he knew that the owner of Rich’s Barnyard Bargains would keep on blustering for a few more minutes before he got to the point.

Big Mac took the opportunity to look the chattering earth pony over, nodding his head whenever it seemed appropriate. Nice withers. Good, strong legs. Not a bad-lookin’ face. Looks like a pretty firm flank t’ me... He came back to himself when he felt a familiar, tingling feeling between his hind legs, and he glanced back at the still-talking brown pony. Hasn’t noticed a thing. Aw hay, it’s been too long since last Ah got t’ buck somepony good an’ hard.

“ - And that’s why I think it’d be a fantastic opportunity for both my business and yours for you to sell me your apples at, oh, I’d say a further ten percent discounted price?”

The manager of Sweet Apple Acres lifted an eyebrow and chewed on his omnipresent hay stem. “Y’ want me t’ sell you my apples for cheap?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘for cheap’ - after all, it’d only be a slightly lower price, but think how many more customers I - we - could bring in!”

Macintosh bit down into the grass in his mouth, his eyes fixed on Rich’s blue ones, the tightening sensation in his nethers growing stronger as he thought.

He reached a decision. “Ah suppose... if’n you want a discount like that one... you’d have t’ work for it.” The red pony nodded toward the barn. “Ah’ll meet y’ in there in a moment. Ah want t’ see how well y’ handle the finest fruits th’ farm has t’ offer ya.”

The businesspony coughed a bit, then lowered his head and glanced around. “Well, I... suppose... as a gesture of good faith, you understand...”

The farmer nodded. “Ah understand,” he replied evenly, then suppressed a shiver of delight as Rich turned and made his way towards the mostly-empty barn. Gotcha, hook, line, an’ sinker... he thought to himself, his erection beginning to stiffen at the sight of that backside and the thoughts of what he was about to do with it.

~~~~

Mr. Rich, owner of Rich’s Barnyard Bargains, shivered slightly as he stepped into the darkened interior of the Apple family barn. The air was much cooler inside, he couldn’t quite make anything out in the gloom, and worst of all... he’d be doing manual labor.

The larger stallion behind him was also blocking out a lot of the light, and he jumped slightly when the red pony kicked the door shut behind them. “What’s that fo - ” he’d begun, turning to face Big Macintosh, when he got one of the biggest surprises in his career.

The red stallion had timed it perfectly. Just as the salespony opened his mouth to ask a question, Big Mac had reared up over him and pushed that muzzle and its silver tongue against his sac. “Ah told ya...” he whickered, no longer concealing his lust, “that you’d be workin’ with th’ best fruits on th’ farm...”

Macintosh grinned widely, one of his front hooves stroking and rubbing at the bags of coin on Rich’s flank, the other working under the brown stallion’s tail to probe at the ring under it. Both actions solicited a gasp from the assaulted merchant, followed quickly by a low moan that set the fat cock rubbing at Rich’s face to throbbing.

“Turns out,” Mac continued in a deep, needy whisper, “th’ biggest, juiciest fruit on all o’ Sweet Apple Acres’re just between m’ hind legs...” His hooves kept up their ministrations, carefully caressing the salespony’s sensitive cutie mark, and elicting another groan as the smaller stallion shuddered underneath him.

Big Macintosh’s nostrils flared in the dim light, and his smile grew larger as he caught the faint, but steadily strengthening, scent of another stallion in rut, and his own length pulsed in response, a slow trickle of pre oozing from his slit and onto Rich’s nape. To the red pony’s pleasure, the other stallion began rocking back into his hooves, pressing especially firmly against the one exploring underneath his black tail.

Rich gasped for air - his nose was forced against another stallion’s nuts, every time he opened his mouth, the heavy orbs rubbed his lips, and his nose was filled with Macintosh’s musky scent - and the hooves teasing him weren’t helping! The last straw was Mac’s calm, slow words filling his ears, and the businesspony froze for a long second as the room suddenly felt far, far too hot.

Hooves shaking in a combination of nervousness, eagerness, and unbridled appetite, he fumbled at his necktie. When it refused to budge, he yanked at it, furiously, until eventually the knot failed and he could throw it and his finely-tailored collar to the side.

Unburdened at last, the brown stallion twisted his hips, grinding back against those teasing, torturing hooves, and gathered up Big Macintosh’s “fruits” between his own, lashing his tongue against them and opening his jaws as far as he could in an effort to suckle on the full balls.

His own arousal throbbed, nearly forgotten, in the cool air of the barn.

A few moments later, Big Macintosh backed away - and now, Rich could see how he got the name - and bit down on the brown pony’s ear. “Why don’t y’ get on your back,” the larger of them whispered. Flushing, the merchant did just that, and found himself staring up at a well-endowed, and above all, eager stallion.

Rich swallowed in sudden fear. Mac just grinned at him.

“Ah think Ah know what you’re thinkin’...”

Much to Rich’s surprise, Big Mac stepped over into a corner, rummaged around in it, and came back with two things: a small bundle of hay, and an even smaller bottle. Macintosh dropped both, and nodded towards the hay. “Bite down on that. It’ll make it easier for ya...”

Concerned, the owner of Rich’s Bargains did just that. He let out a shocked whinny when something cool, wet, and slippery dripped onto his flanks and between his legs, and he gave his partner a large-eyed stare.

“Just t’ make it easier on ya...” he mumbled as he lowered himself down, and the entrepreneur gasped as almost all the air was driven out of his lungs from the weight. Oh, he’d known Macintosh was a large pony, everypony did. What he hadn’t quite realized was how much mass that strong frame contained.

Mass that was currently occupied in rubbing something warm, thick, and insistent against one of his most private places.

Rich gulped.

Big Macintosh took a deep breath, held it, and then, gently, let the air out of his lungs. At the same time, and at the same pace, he began to push, carefully rocking his hips as he worked his broad tip into the smaller pony’s tunnel.

True to the red stallion’s warning, the brown pony found himself biting down on the bundle of grasses as he felt himself be spread - it almost felt as though something was about to tear, and his eyes began to fill with moisture from the pain.

“Jus’... gotta wait it out...” Macintosh murmured into his ear, and to Rich’s relief, the insistent penetration slowed and stopped for a few minutes. The salespony shivered as the pain transmuted itself to an odd sensation of being filled, and a faint sliver of pleasure almost beyond his reach.

“I... I think...” Before the stallion could finish his sentence, he felt Big Mac move inside him again.
This time his shuddering was stronger, and his nerves screamed with sudden, powerful need. His brown hooves wrapped around the wide barrel chest above him, and with a mind blank of rational thought, shoved himself against the invader.

Big Macintosh had been prepared for anything, or so he thought. He hadn’t expected the stallion under him to be quite so tight, quite so stimulating, and he definitely hadn’t expected Rich to start riding his cock without warning. The farmer found himself gritting his teeth and arching his back as he pounded deeper and deeper into his new lover. The only response from the pony under him was to breathlessly urge him to go faster and further.

“Oh, Celestia... oh, Luna... b-buck...” Rich was moaning and muttering to himself as Mac’s hips finally met his brown ones. He let out a faint whicker as he felt those heavy balls rub his rump, and his quiet, broken intake of breath turned into a sharp gasp as Macintosh, still hilted, bucked again and made sparks appear in front of his eyes. His mottled cock, which had been trickling pre, suddenly spurted out a gush, something that the pony straddling him took note of.

“Yer likin’ this... aren’t ya, Filthy?” Bic Macintosh muttered as he ground into his partner.

Rich opened his mouth to let out a complaint, only for the thick cock buried in his guts to twist and hit another sensitive spot. Instead, he threw his head back and moaned, long and low, encouraging the girthy stallion above him to continue ravaging his hole.

The manager of Sweet Apple Acres licked his lips as he looked down at his latest conquest, a sly smile curling his lips as he gauged the quivering body under him and the way Rich’s shaft was flexing and how the muscles wrapped around the red pony’s length were clenching. Not gonna be long now... “Ah said... Filthy... ya like this, don’t ya?” He nickered as the warm tunnel suddenly contracted again, and grinned. “Ah thought so... you got a right fittin’ name, y’ filthy pony... lyin’ in my barn an’ gettin’ bucked by my big ol’ dick... Yer a filthy little stallion, and y’ know it, cravin’ Big ol’ Macintosh’s cock an’ takin’ me to the balls in yer tight little flank...”

Filthy Rich screamed and arched up, his length pulsing and firing stream after thick, heavy stream of seed across his chest and face as his mind overloaded at last.

Big Mac whickered as the room filled with the sickly sweet smell of Filthy’s release, and he bowed his head and continued to plow the pony under him for long moments. Minutes after the brown stallion had recovered from his explosive orgasm, Macintosh was still working away, his stamina unmatched by any other pony in Ponyville.

Just as the merchant thought it was impossible, and the sensations in his belly were teasing his shaft back to full hardness, the red stallion grunted once, softly, arched up, and ground himself into the smaller pony. After several long seconds, he toppled off to the side, nearly wrenching himself out of his lover.

Both chests heaved in the warmed barn, and finally Filthy Rich hauled himself to his hooves. His mane, face, body, and flanks were a mess, and he stood, embarrassed, in the clear space in the middle of the room.

“Bucket o’ water’s over there,” Big Macintosh finally said, with a wave of a hoof, and slightly grateful, the salespony made the best use of it he could.

Clean, if damp, he began to search for his tie, without luck, until finally he gave up and pushed the barn door open.

“Negotiations,” he began, staring back over his shoulder with what he hoped was a cold glare, “are not concluded. I’ll be back in a week to... continue our discussion.” With that, he left.

“Ah’m sure y’ will be,” the manager of Sweet Apple Acres murmured to the empty air as he rolled to his side and picked up Filthy’s necktie with his mouth.

Naked, still showing, and with several ropes of Filthy’s cum on his chest, he sauntered over to the farmhouse and up to his room, where he locked the door. Once his privacy was secured, he tugged a drawer open and deposited his latest sexual trophy in with all the others, pushed it shut, and collapsed onto his bed with a wide grin.

Big Macintosh didn’t bother cleaning himself off or sliding under the covers, and drifted off into a well-earned nap.

You looked, didn’t you.