A Taste Like Apples - Chapter 4

>You’re sitting in the kitchen of the Apple family home,
>in a plush bathrobe crafted to specification by the brilliantly talented Rarity.
>Nursing a warm cup of coffee, you read the Equestria Herald,
>glancing up at Celestia’s dawn every now and then,
>and going through a checklist of the day’s duties in your head.
>Quite strangely, Applejack has been out to town for the past few days,
>though her workload is covered well enough by the rest of the family.
>Granny Smith shakily enters the room with her walker;
>for as old as she is, you’ve noted she’s consistently awake the earliest.
>”Well howdy there!” She brightens upon seeing you. “Ah didn’t know you ape fellers liked to get up so early.”
“I’m called a human, Granny Smith.”
>You had to have told her that a dozen times by now.
>Plopping down at the table, she pours a drink from a flask of apple juice and grabs a section of the paper.
>You quite enjoy these quiet mornings in Sweet Apple Acres –
>there is a true familial warmth you’d never had back on Earth, plus,
>living so close to your coltfriend really sweetens the pot, so to speak.
>Speaking of which…
>Your vision darkens as a pair of yellow-capped forehooves cover your eyes.
“Who is it?”
>”Who da ya think?”
 “Oh, I don’t know…”
>You tickle him by the hooves, sending the excitable crimson stallion into a hearty laugh,
>and freeing your eyes from his teasing. You stare into his dusky, olive eyes,
>admiring the cute, twin trios of freckles adorning his powerfully-built cheeks…
>”Heh, heh heh! Well ain’t that just the darndest thing.”
>Granny Smith has a knack for snapping the two of you out of your reverie.
>”Back in my day, colts like you fellers were called… called… eh what was it…”
“I’d imagine there were never many single colts in Ponyville to begin with.
Always seemed like mares outnumbered us two to one…”
>Your play to get her off of this deeply uncomfortable topic seems to have worked.
>”Yeah, that’s right, isn’t it… kinda funny, now I think about it…”
>Big Mac rubs your hair, and looks at you knowingly as you give him a wink.
>No one’s seemed to give you any trouble for as unlikely as how this has turned out,
>though Applejack is still a bit confounded by it all. You resolve to have a chat with her, one-on-one.
>If she ever comes back to the farm. It’s really quite strange of her.
>Wiping away bleary eyes, who but Applebloom stumbles into the kitchen,
>shambling like a zombie over to the table without so much as looking anybody in the eye.
 “Good morning to you too, Applebloom.”
>She raises her eyes to you, staring dully for a second from you to her brother behind you,
>before robotically reaching for the apple juice without saying a word.
>Her bow is meticulously fashioned as always, though. Can’t slight her for that.
***
>Sugarcube Corner
>The six best friends are in a flurry of activity, preparing the place for a truly Pinkie-worthy party,
>in honor of Big McIntosh and his new human boyfriend. Truthfully.
>The rather flimsy pretense they’ve prepared has more to do with your “three-month anniversary in Equestria”,
>or some such meaningless nonsense. Still, you and your lover haven’t stepped foot off the farm in days,
>and all the different explanations Applejack can conjure for your reclusiveness are just killing her.
>You needed to know the town supported you. She needed to have a serious talk with the both of you.
>All your friends will be there, and several barrels of cider to boot.
>Applejack is stringing up a banner that reads “HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!” over the walkway to the kitchen.
>The entrance is left inconspicuous; knowing her brother’s justifiable shyness,
>the venue is being kept small and private, relatively speaking.
>”Hey, Applejack –“ Pinkie Pie approaches her with a sack full of supplies.
>”Yeah, Pinkie? Ah’m… kinda busy here…”
>”I was wondering where you thought these streamers should go…”
>As the two Earth ponies get into the minutiae of decoration,
>the Unicorns are slurping shakes in Pinkie’s room, discussing the upcoming plans over strawberry-with-apple.
>”You really think this is a good idea? What if Big Mac gets angry with us about being tricked?”
>”Nonsense, Twilight. He isn’t being tricked at all–
>the celebration’s purely for his boyfriend, and he’s almost compelled to come along.”
>”Still… what if… what if our assumptions are wrong? Maybe they do just want privacy.”
>”Leading private lives isn’t the same as being hermits, darling.
>Even if they realize their friends are fine with their relationship,
>they still need to be brought back into the fold… lest Applejack goes mad.”
>”I guess you’re right, Rarity. Now help me check over the guest list one more time…”
>As the sophisticated magi are discussing their plans, a pair of mismatched Pegasi flies overhead,
>scouring the sky for signs of inclement weather in one’s case, and… the other mostly tagging along.
>”I see a storm cloud over the mountain! Fluttershy, check the wind speed.”
>”Up here, i-it’s about 15 miles per hour, Rainbow. These forecasts don’t predict much directional v-variation.”
>Gosh, it’s cold…
>”Hmm… that storm cloud’s about… 2 miles away, and given the party’s planned start time…”
>Running through calculations in her head, the weather-mare resolves on a solution without bothering to explain it,
>leaving her childhood friend in the dust as she zips off faster than a speeding train.
>Fluttershy rolls her eyes, and makes the gentle descent down to Ponyville.
>Several hours later, just before dusk, the public area of Sugarcube Corner is a delight,
>adorned with meticulous precision by the four wingless friends,
>for the party designed to bring Big Mac and his new lover out of their seclusion.
>Rarity levitates a washcloth to her brow and makes an exaggerated swipe.
>”Ugh… such work. I truly admire you, Pinkie Pie.” Glares from Twilight and AJ betray her conspicuous lack of effort.
>”What? I contributed my fasion sense to the effort, and everything turned out just splendid.”
>Twilight changes the subject. “Anyway, girls, let’s double-check this guest list one last time…”
>The four ponies gather around her levitated parchment. It’s really not all that ambitious, they conclude.
>”So, as to the issue of informing them…”
>”Ah’ll send a letter to Applebloom. Won’t lie or anything, just request the two of ‘em. Together an’ all.”
>”Let’s hope it works…”
>”OF COURSE it’ll work, silly Twilight! A mysteeerious invitation to Sugarcube Corner,
>on the three-month anniversary of –“
>A giant crash issues through the house, and as the girls look towards the foyer,
>seeing Rainbow Dash’s dizzy form slumped against the wall after she evidently came in a tad quick on the landing.
>”H-heya guys… weather’s clear for days! Ya set everything up okay?”
>”Not anymore! Now we gotta clean up the mess you made!”
>”Relaaaax, I got this –“ Rainbow Dash begins sweeping up the debris of her crash,
>and Rarity and Pinkie walk back off to the kitchen.
>”All we’ve got left to do is inform them… it’s two days from now, right?”
>”That’s right, Twilight. All the guests have been notified already.”
>Applejack concentrates for a few seconds before brightening into a sudden realization.
>”Hey Pinkie, ya got any cider?”
***
>At about the same time, you’re standing over your lover, who is lying prone on a massive,
>waist-high table, while you instruct him in the Human art of massages.
>”Aaaahhhh… feels so good after a hard day’s work, y’know…”
>The chance to feel and admire the powerful features of his back –
>his sensitive withers, his broad, well-toned musculature –
>is a fitting reward of its very own, but you don’t tell him that.
”Oh? Tell me where you’re tense, Big Mac… I can help ya let it all out…”
>”L-lower…”
“Hmm?”
>You slide a hand down to the small of his back, kneading a knot of pressure with the ball of your fist,
>while you playfully rub your dashing crimson lover’s left shoulder.
>He isn’t saying a word; the true sign of a good masseur.
>”Ooh… Hey.”
“Yes, Big McIntosh?”
>”You got time to massage my little friend while you’re at it?”
>You playfully press into his back, but don’t say a word in response.
>Of course you do – you’ve got all the time in the world, after all.
>Big Mac rolls over onto his back, revealing the flaccid form of his penis you’ve pledged to help.
>Still, one glance at his chiseled pecs and you’re already distracted from your goal.
>”Somethin’ wrong?”
“Huh? Uh, n-no…”
>Slightly embarrassed, you rub all over his sheath, unveiling the rest of his 13-inch cock,
>which you take by the hands and drag slowly between your fingertips,
>stimulating every last sensitive nub that you’ve become intimately familiar with recently.
>Your parents would be so proud, you chuckle to yourself.
>As your deft and delicate fondling continues, Big Mac starts panting in earnest,
>and you prepare yourself for his rather fast climax by sliding out your tongue,
>reaching down to his flared head and popping it into your gullet.
>As you earnestly pump his mottled brown dick, and rub circles around his head with your tongue,
>his inevitable orgasm releases a flood of sticky, gooey warmth in your mouth;
>careful to swallow all the warm, creamy pony-seed you need to,
>you trap every drop in your throat and on your tongue,
>and walk up to his face, expectantly batting your eyes.
>”Man…  you really want me to, huh? Okay, fine, Ah guess…”
>Big Mac opens his mouth for a kiss, and you seal your lips to his muzzle,
>releasing the last load of his seed into his empty, waiting mouth.
>You fool around like an idiot, Frenching your equine lover while bathing your tongues in semen,
>toying with the creamy meal you’ve so generously dealt with the majority of.
>”Y’know, ya don’t have ta kiss me right after Ah finish.”
“Yes I do. How else would you get a taste?”
>”Maybe Ah don’t want one.”
”And maybe I don’t wanna give you massages. Fair deal?”
>He grimaces, unamused, before pulling you down onto his chest,
>and pinning you with a great bear-hug as he takes control of your smooching,
>plumbing the depths of your mouth like a conqueror in virgin lands.
>Once his protracted display of dominance is finished, you climb off of him and tidy up the barn.
>As much as sleeping with him sounds like a fine idea,
>Applebloom is already a bit too well-informed for your comfort,
>so you send him off with a wave back to the house.
>Besides, your bed would crumble under the weight.
>That sounds like a fun thing to test.