You know what they say about cowboys
The fire crackled between the two of you.
“...Sorry about this.” Braeburn said awkwardly.
You assured him that it wasn’t his fault; it was just an honest mistake. In truth, this situation could not have turned out any better in your opinion. His idea of an Appleloosan camping trip to meet some more ponies and become more at ease in the town was met with skepticism from you. You’d never admit it, of course, but you couldn’t help but feel that ponies of Appleloosa still saw you as an outsider that one strange pony had developed an affection for. Braeburn really was the only one you could call a friend since you arrived in Equestria. He was always trying new things to integrate you into the social cohesion of the town, and he failed miserably every time. You helped out with farm work considerably, as you were able to bring a physiology to the labor force that no pony could, and you were sure the Appleloosans appreciated your help. They would never accept you as one of them, however. You would always be a creature to them, an oddity, an outsider. You have resigned yourself to this. Braeburn refused to accept it, hence this latest scheme. Along the way, there was apparently some miscommunication with the date or location, so here you two sat alone, at the designated campsite, with a wagon loaded with supplies for twenty ponies.
He looked up at you, confused, as you pushed yourself to a stand and walked over to the wagon. No, this night was not going to waste. You two were going to have fun tonight if it killed you. Braeburn’s confused visage immediately cracked into a smile as you climbed out of the wagon with two cases of hard cider.
An hour later you lay on the dirt beside Braeburn, one case down. The conversation was flowing at this point, alcohol truly being the greatest social lubricant. You swapped stories stories back and forth, devolving nothing more than laughing fits more than once. As the second case was cracked open and you two started working on it immediately, the stories turned more and more explicit. You talked about your sexual exploits. You talked about the women you found attractive. You talked about what you would DO to the women you found attractive.
“A.J., alright! I want to fuck my cousin! Happy now?” He answer after you kept insisting to he tell me his ideal mare. He seemed genuinely embarrassed.
You laughed, telling him that you didn’t see anything wrong with that all. You always thought those two would be a good match.
Only a few bottles remained when he shifted uncomfortably and stood up. At first, you thought he was ready for bed, but you soon spotted the cause of his discomfort: He was sporting a massive erection. It must have been uncomfortable laying on that.
You smile. Asking if he needed any help, you motion to his hard cock. You knew he was interested in mares, but you’ve caught him looking at stallions more than once. It could be nothing, and if he was completely straight, you could just pass it off as a joke. But you couldn’t miss the chance that he might be interested.
Any other night, if you had said anything like that, he would done exactly that: he would have taken it as a joke, would have laughed and joked right back. Tonight, the alcohol running through his veins and all the talk of sex made him pause. You see him blush in the firelight. That hesitation is all you need to make up your mind. You move over to him and slowly guide him back down to the ground, rolling him over so that he lay on his back. The stallion begins to say something. “I...I ain’t never done something like th-” He moans when you began massaging his dick, once more showing him the usefulness of human hands. All of his reservations disappear as the pleasure overtakes him. You lean in, and run your tongue along his length, sampling the taste. It tastes of sweat and musk and musty dirt with the slight sweet apple aftertaste. You like it.
You continue your handjob as you take the head his dick into your mouth, swirling your tongue around. Braeburn cannot talk at this point: He has been reduced to moans and panting, with the occasional interjection of your name or “Oh, Celestia...” You consider sucking him to orgasm; after all, with how much he’s enjoying this, it wouldn’t take long. You decide against it, wanting this to last for as long as possible. With a final kiss, you stop sucking and sit up. He cranes his head upwards, confused, only to see you licking your fingers. You slid one into his ass. He whinnies, loud. His eyes are half lidded with pleasure, and his tongue is sticking out of his mouth, dripping saliva. You pause, giving him a questioning look. He nods slowly. You stick another finger in as your other hand wraps itself around as much of his cock as it can and you resume pumping him.
The third finger slides in. “No..no more.” the cowboy manages to say between moans. You look up at him. He still has a look of extreme lust. You wonder if...”Fuck me...” you hear him say. Yes.
The heat of the fire is intense.
You ask him if he’s sure.
“Fuck me...” is his only response.
You don’t need to be told again. You withdraw your hand from inside of him and begin fumbling at your pants, managing to get them off. Sliding your boxers down, you loose the erection you have been painfully containing since talk of sex began. Spit being your only form of lubrication, you cover you cock in it. There is no resistance. It slides into him in one slick motion. The heat is incredible, and you worry if you’re going to come right there. “So good...” the Earth Pony moans. You begin thrusting, grabbing onto his sides for support. Worrying about his comfort, you rut him slowly, but apparently that isn’t necessary. “Fuck me.” is the only thing he can manage to articulate in his heightened state of arousal. You take this as his suggestion to fuck harder. You immediately begin slamming into him as hard and fast as you can. He lets out a small, lustful whinny and his hips buck every time you ram him. His legs twitch, pure bliss overtaking him. He is spouting complete nonsense at this point, begging, pleading you to fuck him harder, to not stop, don’t ever stop. He isn’t even attempting to restrain his voice, and the forest has gone quiet. Well, looks like he’s a sub. The two of you are covered in sweat and panting from exertion. He stops talking, and you sense that he’s close. You stop fucking and wrap both hands around his stallion dick, finishing him off. He cums, hard, splattering it all over his chest and face. You only manage to thrust into him a few more times before you cum into his ass. You slowly pull out, neither of you saying anything. Your seed drips from his hole onto the ground.
He is gasping for air as you climb on top of him, running your tongue along his chest and neck, licking up his horse semen. It tastes delicious. You reach his face and stare into his eyes for a brief second before being irresistibly drawn into a kiss. You open your mouth and allow Braeburn to taste his own cum. The kiss feels like it lasts for hours, neither of you willing to break it. The need for air arises, however, and you pull back, both of you gasping. A long strand of spit runs from his tongue to yours.
You collapse beside Braeburn, wrapping your arms around him. The fire snaps as one of the logs breaks. “We can’t tell anyone.” your newfound lover says when he can finally speak. “We’ll both be ruined. And A.J...” You tell him you understand, no one will ever find out, and you never expected to replace Applejack in his heart. We’ll only continue this if he wants to, for however long he wants to. You ask him to promise one thing in return.
“Braeburn, don’t ever leave me alone here.”
He assures you that he will always be there when you need him.
Comforted, you allow the sleep to overtake you, still hugging your stallion.
A mare’s shocked scream awakes the two of you hours later.
Author's Note
Originally written back in mid 2011. It was stand alone until a guy confessed that (somehow) this was the first and only pony thing he could get off to, and asked me to write a follow up. Just like Present Sins, it, uh, it hasn't aged well.
Hot.
That’s nearly all you can think about. The summer rays of Celestia’s solar orb beat on you unrelenting as you march down the sparsely populated streets of Ponyville. Braeburn doesn’t seem to be likewise bothered - his usual enthusiasm is as present as ever as he trots several feet in front of you, practically bouncing with excitement. The stares of the population of Ponyville might have been difficult to bear weeks ago, but you’re far too used to being viewed as an oddity to even concern yourself with a second glance. Braeburn glances back at you, grinning widely and motioning you onwards. Despite being unable to suppress a sigh, you grin at your partner’s happiness, redoubling your efforts to match his pace.
The Apple Family farm was still a considerable distance away, so when you finally arrive the sun has begun to set and you feel ready to collapse from exhaustion. Applejack and her family, prepared as you expected for the visit, would have none of it, meeting you at the archway to their property. A flurry of pleasantries soon follow - you’ve already met Applejack when you first arrived in Equestria, but the others are still strangers. Applebloom looks at with you wonder, her childish mind still enchanted by the strange and unfamiliar. Big Macintosh, falling in line with the few stories you’ve heard of him, is terse - but respectful. Granny Smith, despite looking incapable of even moving, gives you a welcome that seems warm, but there’s a slightly cold edge to it: an unmaskable hesitance to so readily accept the unusual. It isn’t long before you and your entourage are moving towards the farm house, where, Applejack informs you, with a smile, that dinner awaits. Nothing would sounds better to you right now, save for perhaps a cold shower and a warm bed.
The meal, which you can only imagine follows the strange parallel of Earth Equestria seems to be, and is their version of southern cooking, is excellent, though, unfortunately, it is marred by a feeling of displacement. You feel almost vestigial - not surprising see as how you are the only being there that doesn’t have a long, involved connection with everyone else. It’s not the Apple family’s fault, as they are trying their best to make you feel at home and to integrate you into their discussions. You appreciate their effort, but the feeling remains - it’s not a problem they can solve.
“So, cousin” Applejack began while, beside her, Applebloom devours her meal in a manner that could only be described as uncouth. “you have your eyes on a mare out there? Gonna settle down with a family soon?”
Braeburn glances in your direction, a worried look consuming him then almost immediately evaporating. Despite the movement being little more than a shifting of his eyes, Applejack appears to notice - you think a look that would pass for confusion occupies her visage, but it’s gone when you take a second glance. “We don’t have time for that kind of stuff on the frontier!” He gives his cousin as an answer, perhaps letting his voice become a bit too defensive. “We’re always busy...” Applejack nods at Braeburn, knowingly.
Despite the fine meal and excellent hospitality, both you and Braeburn are relieved when it finally ends and Granny Smith volunteers to clean up. The day has been a long and difficult one, and you are exhausted. Big Macintosh, who usually sleeps outside when the weather is this warm, offers his bed to you for the night. You readily accept, assuming that his unusually large physique will translate into a bed that you can actually fit into. Applebloom is babbling at you as you ascend the staircase - something about showing the “human” off at school tomorrow - but, eventually, with a final smile and wishes of a good rest, you manage to shut the door behind you, alone for the first time in hours. With a sigh, you slide out of your clothes and collapse into the bed.
The flickering candle light provides the only light in the room. Although you ARE exhausted, you lie awake. Waiting. You know what’s coming, it’s only a matter of patience at this point. You wonder how much time has pass as you lie on the bed. A creak of floorboard from somewhere in the hallway causes you to jerk upwards. Is it...? Your door opens slightly and a voice whispers, straining to both be heard and be hidden. “You awake?” Braeburn asks into the room.
Yep. Briefly amused with how predictable he has become, you quickly respond with an affirmative, and Braeburn slinks into the room, gently pushing the door shut behind him. His hat is flung to the side as he marches towards the bed. The smile on his face tells you everything you need to know about the purpose of his nocturnal visit.
You didn’t expect it to turn out like this. After the intimate night the two of you spent together in the wilderness a few weeks ago, you expected him to be regretful, embarrassed. You even feared, for a brief moment, that he wouldn’t want to ever see you again. But, the opposite happened - with increasing regularity, he was calling on you to fulfill your mutual desires. There were days in Appleloosa that passed in relative normality, only for him to suddenly interrupt the work day to usher you, without warning, into his house. He would shove his needy rump into the air and beg you to bed him right there. You were only too pleased to allow him to indulge in his new apparent addiction.
He snuggles into the covers, his back to you. You can’t resist wrapping your arms around him and pulling the pony close. He softens into a mound of malleable submissiveness at your touch, sighing contentedly as you pepper his neck with your kisses. His masculine, ambrosial scent permeates the room, delighting your senses and intoxicating you with arousal. Your hands run all over his body, massaging his taut muscles. Eventually, they find his intimate parts. He’s already semi-erect, obviously eager to get started. Your own enthusiasm matches his, and you begin to thrust into him lightly, rubbing your erection against his furred back to show your desires.
Without a word, he slips under the covers. You reposition yourself, and feel him settle between your legs. The voraciousness of his lust is apparent as he wastes no time enveloping your erection with his warm mouth. He bobs up and down, efficiently pleasuring you and forcing you to stifle back a moan. You run your hands through his hair as he exalts your manhood with his oral attentions. The young stallion has morphed into quite a talented cocksucker over the past month, and he knows just how to please you as he swirls his tongue around the dick in his mouth. He wraps a flexible tongue around your length, coating your member in ample amounts of saliva. You balls are next he takes then into his mouth, gently massaging them. You’ve never thought of yourself as having a hair trigger, but as he kisses the head of you dick before devouring it once me, you realize that he’s just gotten too good. You push him away, not desiring to reach climax this early in the night. Your lover will not be denied, however. He abandons gratifying your lust with his mouth, but immediately clambers on top of you, setting his forehooves by on either side of your chest, but allowing his rump to hover right above your heated erection, which is still trembling from ponies halted blowjob. You stare into each others eyes, both sets burning with passion as you grab your erection with hand and his flank with the other, guiding him. Despite the current need for silence and despite teaching him, over the course of your extended sexual relations, that it’s possible to restrain verbal articulations of pleasure during sex, he still lets out a muted, lustful whinny as you guide your slickened erection into him. You respond to his noise with a gasp of your own as the familiar confines of your stallion’s scalding hole infect you with a desire to rut him silly. His own carnal pleasure is obvious as his erect stallion cock hovers above your stomach, quivering with delight as the sexual satisfaction of being filled overtakes his body.
You manage to restrain yourself and are content to simple lay like this for a few minutes, inside of him. He leans down, idly showing his agitation with not getting a hard fuck immediately. Irresistibly, you pull him down into a kiss, closing your eyes as you feel him overcome the shock of the sudden movement and melt into your embrace. As your tongues battle their ways into the mouth of their opposite, you run your hands through the fur of his back and through his soft hair. You indulge in the taste of his saliva for length of time, occasionally retracting your tongue to kiss his face. Finally, you end the makeout session, falling backwards onto the pillow. Braeburn’s breathing has grown ragged and shallow, and his eyes slowly open, lit with lust from your passionate oral endearment. Deciding to continue, your hands find his flanks, and with a tight grip on them, you begin sliding in and out of your lover. You take it slow at first, not wanting to risk being caught. Every time you thrust balls deep back into him, he lets out a unrestrainable grunt. The light covers might interfere at some point, so off they go - pushed to the ground. Braeburn’s flared, mottled dick bounces with every collision of your hips with his rump, and warm precum has begun to drip on to your stomach.
You know he likes it rough, and tonight is no different. He pushes up and down in time with your thrusts, but still, it isn’t getting the impact he wants. “Oh Celestia, harder...” he begs in a whisper. You consider, perhaps, warning him about the risk of making to much noise. “...please...”. The pure sound of craving in his voice disarms you, and you can only submit to his need- you wait until he has lifted himself up again, then, gripping his rump hard, you slam him back down onto your erection.
He whinnies, loud. You consider stopping and performing damage control, but Braeburn is inconsolable. He immediately pushes himself back up and slams his desperate rump back down, this time causing both of you to gasp. His blistering, pulsating tunnel is simply sublime as the friction of your fucking increases. The pleasure overtakes you and brings out a bestial wanting that just isn’t capable of worry. You help the cowboy lift himself and slam backdown, timing your thrusts perfectly as you both set every part of your body and mind towards fulfilling your mutual animalistic desires.
Maybe you should care about the way the bed creaks loudly under the strain of your fierce mating. Maybe you should care about the fact the Braeburn’s sexual articulations increase in volume every time he filled with your cock. Maybe you should, but you can’t. Too far gone, you can only match him with your own chants of lust, filling the room accompanied the sound of sweaty furred pony flesh slapping against human. You inhale deeply, reveling in the familiar smell of apple-tinted sweat and sex.
Incapacitated by pleasure, Braeburn collapses on top of you. The weight of him on your chest is somehow satisfying, and your sweaty bodies rub against each other as you continue your rapid, deep thrusts. His face is mere inches away from you, and you can feel his hot breath every time he whimpers in delight. His heart is racing. He leans in closer, his face brushing against yours. You realize that his face is soaked - he’s crying. “Don’t stop.” he manages to whisper between moans, his lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t stop.”
Wrapping your arms around the strong stallion, you hold him close and rut him as hard as your body will allow. You aren’t going to last much longer in his throbbing hole, and, given the speed that Braeburn forces you to meet and his moaning and whispering tantalizing encouragements into you ear, you know there’s no backing out of it this time. If you’ve read your partner correctly, you know that he’s close as well - the telltale twitching of his legs show the stallion is approaching his climax.
You pull out of the stallion almost completely. Then, one final time, you slam his ramp back down, nails digging into his skin as you hold the ponies hindquarters in place. The friction of this final attack sends you over the edge, and YES! A intense, feral growl escapes you as you cum hard into the ass of the stallion. His trembling, vibrating tunnel takes everything you have to offer, your balls emptying as it milks you completely dry.
Braeburn’s eyes shoot open and he pulls from your grip. Pushing himself back up, his back arches as he, unrestrained by concepts like discretion or civility, moans loudly and joins you in your peak. His hard stallion cock twitches before release, shooting its seed all over your chest, neck, and face.
You hold this pose for a brief time, the room finally silent save for the gasping breaths of the two lovers. Then, Braeburn collapses on you once again, smiling from a mixture of pure happiness and perverse satisfaction. He idly licks at the cum on your face, occasionally deigning to kiss you and allowing you a taste of the fruits of your sexual efforts. You wrap your arms around him again, waiting for your breathing to regulate and for the clean-up to stop before you even begin to speak. A stray thought towards the impertinence of the mess you made in Big Macintosh’s bed manages to cross your sensually-saturated mind, but you’ll deal with that when the time comes. For now, you just want to hold Braeburn close. In fact, you would love to just fall asleep like this - cock still inside your lover and still sticky with his cum.
The minutes pass by, and Braeburn manages to get the last of it off of your face, with the occasional nip of your neck. Words really can’t be made relevant at this point, but you decide to try anyway. Taking a deep intake of air, you tell him, as quickly as you can before your courage fails you, that you love him.
His stops licking your cheek idly. Raising up slightly and matching your stare, his face is unreadable. He licks his lips and opens his mouth, taking his own deep breath in preparation of his response.
Before he can speak, a floorboard creaks loudly right outside of your door.
Fuck.
Braeburn dives off of you, collapsing onto the other side of the ample bed. You lunge for the covers, throwing them back on as you blow out the candle. Your stallion slinks off the side of the bed silently, as, of course, you hear a knock on your door.
“You awake in here?” You hear Applejack whisper. She had to have seen the room lit just seconds ago, you see no advantage in lying.
She opens the door after you respond. “Everythin’ alright? I heard some noises.” Still covered a mixture of yours and Braeburn’s fluids, you tell her that you haven’t heard anything. You hope that, in the darkness, she’ll be unable to make out the pony-sized lump that hides awkwardly on one side the bed. “Huh, I coulda sworn I heard something...” She says, then pauses. You can’t see her expression in the shadow.
“Anyway, how are you holdin’ up in Equestria?” Small talk, at this hour? Acutely aware of how much the room still smells of sweaty copulation and nearly overcome with nervousness, you strain to answer as naturally as you can manage. Maybe she’ll just think you were masturbating? That’d be a preferable option, you consider. Before the conversation carries on for any significant length of time, though, you politely mention how exhausted you are in way of a dismissal. Applejack takes the hint. “Alright then, I’ll let you get some sleep. Good night.” She backs out into the lit hallway, and you can see her face clearly for the first time. Does she look...amused?
Her expression almost instantly changes into a perfect smile. “Night, Braeburn.” she says before turning back towards her room and trotting down the hall.
