Mrs. Harshwhinny [Incest] [2nd Person]

Mom drops her purple jacket on the floor. It's kind of odd, you can't remember ever seeing her without it before. What's even more odd is her strict 'no laundry on the floor' rule, which she was clearly breaking.

"Mum, you dropped your-"

>"Ssh, dear. Help Mom take her earrings out."

She stood close to you, nuzzling chests. It was an odd sensation, she was a stranger to your body as any other mare, even though you knew better. You reach your muzzle up to her ear, kissing softly at her earlobe to remove the gaudy earring without nipping her with your teeth.

Your hot breath caresses her neck as she looses a soft whinny into your own, and while you gently set the earring on the kitchen table you catch her looking at you funny.

"Am l in trouble, mum?"

She says nothing and presents her other ear. You obediently oblige her, going against her will was unthinkable to you. You set the other down as well, and actually look at your mother for the first time in sixteen years.

She's smaller than you remember, until now she was stuck in your head as seen by an eight year old foal impressed by her padded jacket and shouting. This was no longer true. You stood larger than her now, in the peak of adolescence.

Her soft orange coat, her thin blonde mane, her softer, middle aged frame, stubborn weight stuck on her hips. She was different from all the girls your age, she was a real, fully grown mare.

You accidentally catch her eyes, and it's as though looking in a mirror. More than the same color as you own, you saw the same expression as your own. Mum was looking at you for the first time too, it seemed like.

"Hey, Mom, l-"

>"Mrs. Harshwhinny."

"But, m-"

>"No, don't call me that right now."

"Oh, okay, Mrs. Harshwhinny."

Mom came forward and nuzzled you again, confusing you dearly. 'You're no son of mine' was her maddest mood ever, yet she was hold you as though she was proud of you.

Even more confusing was as she began nibbling at your earlobes.


"Mo-, Mrs. Harshwhinny, what are you..."

>"Go to your room, right now."

You turn on hoof and obey, accepting punishment for your mystery offense without question. You'd probably just sit there until she left for another trip like usual, stupid you for thinking anything would be different.

Closing the door behind you it bumps on a hoof jammed in the doorway. Mom presses in behind you, her strong presence looming over your room even as undressed as she was.

Your childish things were on display, scattered toys from ten years ago shoved into cracks here and there, a few schoolbooks stacked by a desk, and a rather large poster of Spitfire leaning far back over a Cloudsdale balcony.

Mom's staring at that one rather intently, as though she were trying to ignite it with the heat of her gaze alone.

>"What is this?"

"Oh uh, she's a Wonderbolt mum, my friend brought it home for me."

>"Is your friend a pegasus?"

"Yeah, he was born in-"

>"Pegasus mares are for pegasus stallions. Earth mares are for earth stallions."

And with that, mum ripped your favorite poster off the wall.

"Hey!"

>"Do you have a pegasus girlfriend?"

"N-no mom."

>"Harshwhinny. So, do you have any girlfriend?"

You only shake your head.

>"I can see why, if you try to mix the races you won't have any idea how to attract a mare. It's not traditional. Besides, why would you want a thin, waspish, bird boned little tart like that anyway?"

Mum stamped her rear hoof for emphasis, sending a deep jiggle around her plump backside. Even as she turned to face you head on you could still see her rear, ever so slightly peeping out from behind her. Only now you realize why she always wore thick, padded jackets.

>"Well? Don't you know a young Earth stallion such as yourself should be attracted to a plump, healthy young mare with lots of meat and curve, a pony who can actually WORK for a living?"

"I-I don't, I mean, I don't get-"

She runs you off, almost hysterically.

>"Don't you think I'm sexy?!



Silence. She'd gone too far, and you both knew it. Perhaps your eyes were wide with shock, perhaps hers were wider. Either way she turned and left without trying to save the moment.

Laying on your bed, taking turns staring at the constellations mum had drawn on the ceiling when you were little and staring at the torn poster on your floor, Mom's hoofprint still clearly visible in the crimped cardpaper.

Mom was right, though. You always found yourself thinking about your teachers as your friends fantasized about fillies, you had always had your eyes on the mares.

Mothers especially, there was always something so attractive watching a mother and child in the park, her body filled out just right, with that healthy curve that spoke a volume about vitality and vigor.

Yeah, while your friends squabbled over virgins and thin waists you seemed alone in your love for 'milfs' as the single dirty magazine you'd seen referred to them as.

Two hooftaps rung against your door.

>"Hey, dinner."

Oh. It was six thirty. You mother never called you, even when you were home together. You had better have been at the table or you weren't getting fed in the past, having her come to you was unusual to say the least.

You hear her clicking down the stairs as you follow her down to the kitchen, two take out bags waiting at either end of the table.

Hayfries, daffodil sandwiches, and horse pepsi. You two haven't eaten this together in ages, not since before mom got her inspector job and started traveling. You felt like a little colt, as if you were sitting in your lap and she were feeding the fries to you one by one.

>"I'm sorry about earlier."

An apology, from mother. Tartarus must be freezing.

"It's okay, mom."

Looking down at your half finished sandwich you try and screw together the courage to continue.

>"I shouldn't have said-"

Then, you dared to cut your mother off for the first time in your life.

"I do think you're sexy."

You always thought talking back to your mother for the first time would have felt better, rather than empowering it left you a quivering mass of insecurity and doubt. You stared at the daffodil on your plate slowly slipping from it's bun as though it were the most interesting thing in the world. You face was undoubtedly flushed, probably the cause of the sudden lightheadedness. You dared not look up as she spoke.

>"Y-You do? Even though..."

You're glad she doesn't say it, nodding to her with stupid, embarrassing enthusiasm.

>"So, what do you think this means?"

You try to take a sip of your drink, poking your straw in your eye. You get it in and take a deep gulp, struggling to swallow, trying to clear out your throat.

"I, uh, thought maybe, you could, maybe, sort of kinda be my uhm, my special somepony."

You were going to die. For sure. You clap your hooves to the sides of your head as you focus on your daffodil lifeline, the only safe place to look. Mom's stool scoots back.

You hear the clip clop of her coming over to you.

She rears up and props herself on the table with one hoof, gently kisses your brow, hooking her other hoof underneath your muzzle and dragging your gaze up to meet hers.

She's blushing just as hard as you are. She leans in, the radiance of her flushed cheeks basking over you, her warmth palpable on your cheeks already.

Mom kisses your muzzle, your very first grown up kiss.

Few words were spoken for fear of spoiling the moment. You were in the throes of teenage lust and puppy love and Mrs. Harshwhinny herself was heady with the same sensations drunken in deeply from you.

You made out with your mother on your kitchen table, spilling your drink and throwing your food onto the floor. Your first deep kisses, your first tongue kisses, clicking teeth for the first time and having her wordlessly showing you how it's done. You were the virgin, she was your teacher. You pulled her in, grabbing and pulling wherever you could find purchase, idly prodding and squeezing, having her guide you to the sensitive zones.

She breaks the long wet kiss, raising her head and letting your mixed saliva fall back in your mouth, forcing you to swallow it all.

>"My room."

You both prance upstairs again, into the room across from yours. You rarely went in there, even without mom around the house you never dared, for dread of some sublime trap you may miss betraying your rule breaking.

>"Come on, get on the bed."

You oblige, shimmying up the queen mattress on your back, Harshwhinny crawling above you. The kissing begins anew, and as your blushing fades your blood finds a new place to pool.

Mom keeps deeply kissing you, always with her head raised, always forcing you to swallow. She ignores the pulsing young prick idly slapping against her underthighs, taking her time with you.

>"This, this is y-you're last chance, ok? Just tell me, okay? Okay?"

You can't even answer, after sucking on her tongue like a teat you can only groan to beg for her back, instinct driving your hips to take stabs at her with you prick yet missing widely do to experience.

>"Do you, do you know what comes next?"

You nod, forelimbs around her thighs, driving endlessly, poking her closer and closer to the mark.

>"Do you know what this means?"

She rears up completely erect, tugging at her privates, showing you how fully aroused and begging she is, slick wetness glistening.



Girls weren't pretty down there, yet somehow it was the most maddening thing you'd seen yet.

"Yeah, yes, yea please, please, I'm dying"

You can tell by how she bites her lip she's feeling the same way. You're both too far gone, pretending to hold back now is just a waste of time.

Her forelimb drags your engorged private to her own, her soft fetlocks driving you mad with the sensation.

She smears it back and forth, rubbing the slickness back and forth, teasing you until you can hardly take it anymore. You thrust, startling her and making her weak kneed.

She collapses, all foreplay flying out the window as she drops down and takes your entire length in a single plummet. You both cry out gasping.

You've never felt such a thing, such smooth crushing warmth around every inch of something so sensitive, your mind was lost to this heaven of the flesh.

Mother, though clearly not a virgin, hadn't seen any action in nearly sixteen years. Her body was as pent up as a teenager, and far from worn out she felt like she was losing it all over again.

>"S-Slowly now, oka-"

No. You're locked onto her thighs in a deathgrip, instinct enslaving you. You hold her, crushingly, hammering her as hard as your young, springlike teenage muscles can manage.

Mom can only throw her head back and whinny harshly, feeling loved again and on the verge of her first climax in over a dozen years.

>"Come on, come on now, keep it up!"

You do your best to obey her, hammering the older mare to her limits with your teenage fury, caring only for your own pleasure and only considering her own enjoyment a bonus.

>"Ah, ah, yes, I'm so close, please-"

You clap down on her back, bear hugging her as you drive up with all your force, cumming deep inside your own mother as her orgasmic writhing thirstily swallows your load deep within her womb.

>"Y-... You didn't? You didn't, did you? Tell me you didn't."

She chewed you out, telling you how stupid it was and how you never, ever do that to a girl unless you want to get her pregnant.

>"ONCE." She stresses. "It only takes ONCE, never forget it."

You knew you were an accident, but this is the first time mom had ever actually told you. Having no father most had assumed you were adopted, but you became such a spitting image of her there was no doubt to the relation.

You sweat about having a little brother while mum takes a shower, washing herself out and taking her time to do her hair and tail. Your balls itch severely with her drying, creamy cum before you're finally called in, and she washes you with a cloth. You're unsure if it's a lover's or a maternal instinct, but it feels like warmth and love either week.

Mom is home all week, and it's a short honeymoon as you repeatedly lose your virginity in every manner possible to your mom's reawakened and eager cunt.

Then, she has to go on a trip. She comes back, of course, but she's always busy. She's back and forth, traveling all across Equestria and stopping home twice a month to make you a sandwich and snag a quickie.

No, even as you grew older you never regretted it, or thought your first relationship was wrong. She wasn't really a mother to you, just a stranger who lived in the same house once in awhile.

Still though, every new mare you meet you compare to her, half subconsciously, and they usually fall short of perfect for not doing one of the few things mom used to do for you when she actually used to care.