A Taste Like Apples - Chapter 3

>You and Big McIntosh find yourselves back in the barn, where your fateful smooch changed everything just a short week ago.
>You're idly swinging your legs up and down against your hay bale,
>and Big Mac is toying with a tankard of apple juice. No more cider for you two.
>"Well…"
"Yeah"?
>"Oh, Ah don't know..." he demurs, and looks yet again into the well of his cup. He really is a quiet stallion.
"Come on, Big Mac, we've got all the time in the world. There has to be something you do for fun.”
>"Ah really don't know... Ah used to do all the chores 'round here, but with you around to take care of the barn,
an' Applebloom tendin' the house, Ah just don't have much goin' on."
>You think you understand. Still, two introverts with few hobbies but their work make for a rather unexciting couple.
>You imagine Twilight and Fluttershy hooking up, and shudder.
"You’ve got me."
>His cheeks go red and you walk up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his mane,
>before pulling back and kissing him for the fifth time that day.
>As your tongues twist in the heat of passion, Big Mac grabs you by the waist and brings you down to the ground,
>growing more forceful in his kissing until his tongue is freely roaming your mouth, before he breaks off,
>leaving you panting and sweating as you lie beneath the crimson farmer pony.
 >Out of nowhere, he dives into the crook of your neck, nibbling and teasing you with his tongue,
>as you giggle with delight and playfully struggle against his affections.
>Unfortunately, you’re every bit as ticklish as he is.
>His playful roaming gets more serious, and as he begins planting kisses down the front of your body,
>you unbutton your shirt, so creatively fashioned by miss Rarity, to allow him full access to his conquest.
>A particularly slow and strong kiss over your sternum elicits a soft moan,
>and you run your hands through his soft, flowing mane.
“Big Mac?”
>”Yeah?”
“D’you  want…”
>”Eeeyup.”
***
>Having locked the barn door and climbed up to your loft, you’re lying on your bed with Big Mac on top of you,
>while the pair of you kiss and embrace without a thought in your head.
>You’re in your underwear, and the sight of your nude human figure has sent your coltfriend into a frenzy.
>You don’t think he knows quite what to do with you, though,
>and he’s currently playing with your right nipple, licking and nibbling such that you’re squealing with laughter.
>You’re his to take; let him explore you on his own.
>Still, he’s been playing with your chest for a very long time now.
“You can go lower, baby.”
>He raises his eyes to you while suckling on your tit, and responds by sucking harder.
>”Ah’m takin’ my time here.” You bite your lip to suppress a moan as his tongue swirls around your perky nipple,
>overwhelming your senses as his hoof brushes over the other one.
>Finally he pulls away, and stares at you from above.
“Well?”
>”Uhh… now what?”
>As dominating as he tries to be, his naiveté is rather cute.
>You push him up, and take charge for the moment.
“Show me what I’m dealing with. You relieve yourself, don’t you, Biggy?”
>”Uhhh…” your coltfriend begins sweating. You roll your eyes and stare expectantly. “Ah suppose…”
>You can’t help grinning at every little thing this introverted hunk reveals about himself.
>”O-okay, Ah guess…” Your partner spreads his legs, rubbing between them with a forehoof as you look on in appreciation.
>Before long, a ruddy, spotted stallion-prick has emerged, and you see Big Mac timidly stroke its length.
>”Hey… could you, maybe, lay out for me? Gimme somethin’ to look at?”
>Not once in a million Equestrian years did you ever think you’d be able to indulge your exhibitionist streak again.
>You lay out on your bed, hands laced behind your head on your pillow,
>and reveal every inch of yourself (barring your underwear) to your admiring coltfriend.
>His little buddy stiffens up further as he scans you, which you greatly appreciate.
>Big McIntosh gets to work, pumping his dick as he continues staring,
>gazing up and down your slender, lightly muscled figure, while you bat your eyes and lick your lips in anticipation.
>After about half a minute of this, he’s fully erect at what you judge to be around 13 inches.
>Hoo boy.
“You can stop, now, Big Mac.”
>”Huh? Why?” Poor thing.
“’Cause it’s my turn… to help you.”
>Sauntering over to his end of the bed, you motion for him to sit up, and you’re  soon presented with your prize.
>Looking deeply into his eyes, you spit into your palm, and rub your hand up the side of his shaft,
>eliciting a shudder from the recipient, before you slowly get into a rhythm of gently pumping his massive pony cock.
>As soon as he starts leaking, however, you get tired of the simple handjob,
>and glom onto his head with your mouth, swirling your tongue around and bobbing up and down as far as you can take him.
>He’s a fucking stallion, of course, so you keep up your pumping in tandem with your blowjob,
>rubbing every inch of him that you can manage, and exulting in the bitter,
>salty flavor of his seed that you had missed so much since arriving here.
>Without serious practice, though, you can’t take more than a few inches into your throat,
>and even your long-conquered gag reflex is rearing its ugly head.
>Still, you dutifully service the stallion, as he lovingly pets through your hair in appreciation of your effort.
>You stay as slow and relaxed as you can, however, delaying his inevitable climax as far as possible.
>A punishment for his nipple fixation from earlier.
>Still, after several minutes of pumping your sticky hands in a practiced rhythm,
>and sucking as deeply and tenderly as you ever have on a dick, you feel the telltale tensing of his muscles.
>As much as you love the idea, swallowing it straight down  your throat is out of the question. You’d choke yourself.
>Might as well give him a show.
>You extract him from your mouth and pump his entire length furiously,
>closing your eyes and sticking out your tongue, until before long…
>”Uuuuhhhh!”
>You hear a low, equine whinny, and feel pulsing globs of warmth beneath your fingertips.
>Thick ropes of warm, gooey pony-cum coat your face, hands, and tongue,
>and you savor the warmth of his seed on your skin and in your mouth,
>before opening your eyes to begin cleaning yourself up.
>Big Mac is drained and visibly exhausted, having fallen onto his back after his orgasm.
>Still, you make a show of sucking your fingers, licking off every drop of your salty reward,
>and wiping it from your face to do the same. You even bathe his wilted prick in your tongue,
>cleaning up your mess like a loyal boyfriend should.
>Slipping up beside him and turning his head to yours, you present your mouthful to his hazy eyes,
>before languidly swallowing his seed, savoring its aftertaste as it settles in your belly, like any other meal.
>”Wow… thanks a bunch…”
>Giggling, you kiss him, allowing Big McIntosh to share in his own leavings on your tongue.
“Y’know, Big Mac…”
>”Yeah?”
“It kinda tastes like apples.”