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- Moonlight filled the room, spilling over the empty bed and casting shadow over the young creature crouched on the other side. Forgoing clothing, a usually unthinkable concept, he was tying on only his hastily made soft slippers.
- Inching carefully through his barely open doorway, threatening to creak if pushed even an inch further than his thin midriff was wide, he escaped his bedroom silently. Padded hooves made no noise but the slightest, imperceptible whisper as he carefully stole past his parent's doorway.
- Ajar, he dared a peek. Mother lay, hair done up in curlers, sleeping mask tight upon her eyes. Bound, blind, and a heavy sleeper, Mom never posed a threat. Dad, however, tended toward restlessness, sometimes. To the young sneak's horror, he realized with his adjusting eyes that Dad wasn't in bed at all, lump of overturned blanket in his place.
- A loud noise of gushing of water came inside the restroom, frightening the young man out of his skin. In too far he committed, exaggeratedly slinking as far as his legspread could reach with each step. Water hits the basin as dad washes his hands, covering the louder 'whump' the satyr makes as he tries to clear the hallway in time.
- The restroom door opens, father stumbling directly back to bed as his miscreant son suffers heart attacks beyond the corner to the kitchen. Exhaling his baited breath in a long, controlled sigh he continues slinking toward the side door.
- It open, much quieter than the main doorway, to an unlit side of the home. His stealth booties are pulled off, carefully hidden where they won't get dirty, and with free and relieving heavy hoof he takes off running through dirt and grass. Waning moon gives little light to betray him, the dishonest hour leaves few to see. He mostly skirts past town, making a path through field and orchard to his secret rendezvous.
- A barn, full of cider, apples, hay, and secrets. The doorway is unlocked, heavy iron padlock open and dangling, heavy door ajar, dimly flickering candlelight playing off the rim.
- Taking a moment to catch his breath, heart duly pounding from cardio and excitement, he rests an arm on the doorway before sliding in. Laying, napping on a bit of hay, one of the Apple ponies slept while her candle played warm light on her warm colors.
- He snuck over to her, hooves whispering soft clip clops against the impacted earthen floor. The warm candle painted his snowy white coat an umber orange, the deep purple of his hair nearly black in the dimness. To his sleeping partner he went, sweeping his tail across his lap to keep it from the dust as he crouched low to her beautiful, restful form.
- Delicate, feminine fingers brushed the coarse coat of the workpony, stirring her from her slumber. With a worried squint that faded into a warm smile she whispered to her secret lover.
- “You sure took your time, sugarcube. I was worried you'd forgotten.”
- The pristine young satyr put on his airs of formality and elegance, well groomed into him from the earliest age.
- “Darling, it simply would not do to leave a beautiful mare as yourself alone and forgotten. Must I remind you that I come so far for our evening trysts?”
- “You reckon you'd rather I tried to sneak into the boutique about as slick and quiet as a blind bull and meet you there?”
- Each of their faces beamed, Applejack wryly smiling as she sat herself up and the satyr dropping his knees in the clean straw, inches from her body. Without further conversation he held both hands to either side of her head, fingers in her mane and palms resting on her cheekbones. They first nuzzled brows, each lover enjoying the simple forbidden presence of the other, each letting their aching heart free after a week of pretending not to love each other at each passing and glance.
- But Applejack wasn't getting any younger, and herself the more impetuous of the two she could no longer stand to drink in his breath without tasting yet more. Unknown subtle spells worked over her consciousness, the satyr's subtle lustful magic driving her mad, with all the heat and urge of a mare half her age. She broke the nuzzling and kissed the son of her best friend, having stolen every drop of his innocence and retreading well beaten ground.
- She pushed him down into the fresh straw, keeping dirt out of his coat his only condition for meeting in a barn. With heat in either of their cheeks the kissing began, up and down each other, delicate hands grasping and caressing while powerful legs drove the grinding and passion, burying the young man underneath the driving power developed of ten thousand bucked trees.
- From above, you could only see the head and shoulder of the satyr, the rest of his unique body hidden from view by the pony's wide, strong body.
- From the hayloft a lithe, young adult Applebloom silently cursed, wishing her sister would move.
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