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.