> Orange You Glad We Wed
>  by Troublesome Beast
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1 - Morning Meals, And Then Breakfast
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t true that Manehattan never slept.  Oh, some parts of the city were always awake, but then again, what creature with as much life, as mighty dreams as the Big Dapple, truly slumbers completely?  The early morning growl of the great beast’s awakening rose swiftly to the penthouse layers, whether from offices opening and preparing for a heavy day of commerce, or staff preparing for the rise of Very Important Ponies.

Both were active in the Hamlin Building.  As the morning sun kissed warmth onto the face of Juicy “Aunt” Orange, she blessed her foremothers’ thrift as well as their yearning to bring their beloved woods to the burgeoning city.  Her first deep breaths of morning shifted her vast chest against the down comforter and silk sheets as she fumbled them aside, the welcome song of the adventurous birds of their rooftop enclosure drifted in.

The sweetness of the song filled her ears just as the rich scent of early morning tea made her nostrils flare; her arms trailed down below the immense pressure of her bosom to scratch at a tense itch in her belly, and drifted, softly stroking through a sudden silken leafiness-- her husband’s mane.  She curled forward, toes clenching as she slipped from rest into enjoying her morning cunnilingus.

Her curvaceous body began to report in rapidly; her long right leg kicked the tangle of the sheets away to let her better claim and guide her husband’s head against the impatient, moist clench of her shuddering snatch.  Her fingers clenched hard, holding on and instinctively guiding his efforts in vigorous motion; as her head rested against the bedroom wall, her broad, jiggly ass tensed in expectation, pushing her well-padded cheeks into the softness of their mattress.  Wakefulness began to gallop through Juicy Orange; she felt his head dip and follow her lusty guidance, then break away, a fiery wetness and the light tenseness becoming an overwhelming urgency of sensation.  

Birdsong suddenly merged with with the wet, slick noises accompanying the twisting, clenching pleasure traveling up from her core and wresting her from the last vestiges of sleep.  Supported by her pillows, she upthrust her drenched cunt against the wriggling strength that fluttered swiftly within.  The motion briefly spread her thick, juicy thighs away from the heavier source of warmth below.  Thankfully, her right thigh couldn’t escape the massive, throbbing weight pressed against it! 

Unwilling to surrender even a moment away from that questing, prodding tongue, she pivoted and locked her strong left leg over his slender yet strong shoulder, her calf and heel desperately pressing at his body, pushing him closer as she clung to his head for dear sanity.  Her own song bubbled up, forcing aside a drowsy yawn, her massive rack shuddering with early morning release.  She moaned out, “Uhnnn… ooh… Oh!”  Her shoulders pressed further back into her pillows, her back arching and her belly contracting hard around the rolling, lightning-hot and earthquake-hard shudder of what she already knew wasn’t the first of her well-loved dawn orgasms-- and definitely wouldn’t be her last.  He wasn’t done, after all.

She reclined back as the peak left her, an uncouth, undignified flop into the almost sinfully comfortable mattress and wide mess of pillows.  Her left hand continued to play with that soft expanse of mane, while her right began a deeply familiar roll of her palm across a hot, stiff surface, already slick as she spread her fingers in a futile attempt to squeeze the width; she made a lazy, smug smile at the resulting passionate groan of his sleep-thickened voice between her legs.  Her eyes opened slowly to the realities of their bedroom; painting-bedecked walls, corner easy chairs and lamps on one end, planning desk and miniature office on the other.  

Kettle on the service, china cups in attendance.  Lamps off, waiting to augment the morning brightness.  Her gigantic tits occupying at least the lower quarter of her vision, pillowing out as gravity tugged them into great, circular mounds, her huge, full nipples and perpetually puffy areolae proudly capping the massive jugs.  And just past that hilly expanse, the one sight she considered just as beautiful as her small clan’s orchards in full fruit: the vision of her husband’s leafy green mane bobbing back and forth between her big thighs as he went down on her with an almost coltish enthusiasm, even after all these years.

Juicy Orange, maretriarch of the Clan Orange, felt her mouth open without her conscious thought or consent; railed, as she always did, against the ludicrous expression she must be making as her tongue lolled out and her eyes rolled back.  It wasn’t sleep that her eyes were seeking, nor a dream that put the flush on her cheeks and pushed a sudden gasping groan from her throat.  Her nostrils flared, her left fingernails dug into the bottom sheets as she tried and failed to rise up against the invading wetness, the probing organ that deftly explored her gushing folds anew and lashed a freshly rising wave of pleasure through her soft stomach and out to every corner of her body.

“Oh!  Oh-- Mosely!” she cried out her husband’s name, rising on an exclamation of his prowess but peaking on a claiming whinny.  Even as she found the strength to rise, left palm sinking into the bed, the leverage to curl her body forward and grind her sloshing super-tits against his jostling forehead, her right hand founds its mark, too, and she lewdly returned the favor.

As Mosely’s tongue deftly swiped against her dewy labia, her strong, supple fingers pressed against the huge, fleshy flare of his lube-spewing prick, its seven inch wide heft hot against the soft squishiness of her inner thigh.  “My dearest,” she moaned-- “Mine!”  Her nails trailing just lightly over the intensely hot skin, she coaxed fresh shudders between her thighs, fresh muffled moans and most importantly, fresh waves of his heady-scented pre to coat her hide and splatter the sheets.  As she drew him forth in glorious reciprocation, the plunge of his tongue into her heated cleft sent forth fresh muscle-clenching, electric ripples of pleasure throughout her body, sending her plush flesh jiggling, her back arching and her toes once more curling.

A new shuddering burst of pleasure ran through her as he found yet another way to turn her knees to jelly while forcing both nipples and her clit to steel.  Her half-awakened, half-blissed out mind mumbled, Mercy, you’d think my nethers would go numb after three decades of this treatment!  They definitely hadn’t, as her gasping response to a new wave rising from the dexterous rub of his upper lip against her clit’s throbbing nub.  As her hand worked feverishly on his flare, jostling the three-and-a-half foot-long stretch of fuckmeat rising from her fertility archdruid husband’s groin, the trembling shudders of her body all but compelled her.  She flexed her right leg hard around the stiff pole, curling the knee around his thick, throbbing medial ring and pressing her heel against his shoulder, while her left leg clutched close against his back, keeping him as close to her as she could to her burgeoning climax.

She squealed like a college mare riding her first stud, the sound rattling the china as though the kettle was freshly steaming.  He always did that to her, drove the wrathful CEO and elegant Manehattanite Lady out of her with the whip of his tongue’s pleasure on her cunt, his lip’s deft tweaking of her clit almost merciless.  But she had him in her clutches, and as she slammed forward and double, pressing the squishy expanse of her mountainous mammaries over his head, she took special care to grind her thick nipple and the soft flesh behind over his stiff rod, her hand sliding in a clear wave of pre back and beneath the broad expanse of the flare.

Mosely’s head arched back into the warm darkness of her enveloping cleavage.  That same smooth silkiness that felt so good in her hands and cleaned up so nicely at Society dinners drove her like a series of fine floggers across her hyper-endowed and hyper-sensitive teats, prolonging the invigorating force of her climax just as his hit.  She shuddered with their twined release, “My dear!”

Sadly, the fecund expanse of her breasts around her beloved super-stud’s face somewhat muffled the lovely, masculine bellow he responded with.  Nonetheless, just a simple tilt of her head to the side gave her a lovely view of that huge pillar of male hardness as it erupted.  The goddess-blessed throb of the veins, the huge initial wad re-thickening its already virile monstrosity of heft, the cumslit bulging out and there, that fountain, that gushing, blasting wave of sticky, thick stallion spunk splattering out in long ropes that swiftly became a geyser-offering to the very concept of male fertility.  She felt a hungry pang in her belly that stirred her beyond mere nutritional needs and thought, Ah, what a lovely photograph that’d make-- if only I had a second body to take the shot with.

She unkinked herself from Mosely slowly, legs relaxing and falling to the side, forcing herself standing on formalities for just a moment before discarding decorum and dipping two fingers to scoop up a fresh dollop.  Scooting her lush hips around with satisfaction, she slurped the warm, musky goo down, flicking a pinkie finger out as she guzzled it down, feeling the heated seed travel down to settle in the soft elder’s pudge of her belly, the hidden abs still strong after three children and a well-lived life.

Delicious.  She reflected contentedly that even if it wasn't for the fact that her darling was inclined to be among the most ridiculously faithful stallions she'd ever even heard of, she knew she'd be able to keep her stud in her paddock.  Not merely thanks to her ridiculously expansive hips and the titanic tush behind, no; her curves flowed down her long legs, never overflowing, perfectly balanced lushness to wrap around his shoulders and give him squishy caresses.

They twisted and turned together; he slid out of bed as though to reach for the morning tea, but a lofty guffaw escaped her lips as he took to his feet.  Mosely wobbled damn near as much as his overbalancing dick and paused to groan out, “Ah, the wonders you work upon me, my dear.”  Her lips curled into a satisfied smile; Juicy was rather smugly proud of her exaggerated hourglass figure, and especially the results it had on her husband-- much as his figure had on her.  She paused to admire his lithe figure, elegant, long aristocratic ears, the slender but powerful shoulders of a lacrosse gentlecolt, not a hoofball or roanby thug.  Well-built chest, toned stomach, and perhaps slightly broader than normal hips.

They had to be.  Between those nice, taut thighs lay that absolutely obscene prod of his.  Well-- his knee-length balls were between-- and a bit ahead-- of his thighs at the moment; his proud member, what she sometimes considered his rod of archdruiry, was actually standing up past his belly… his chest… and indeed, over his head.  There were reasons that sex got complicated.  Fun, though, in a delightfully earthy way that’d scandalize the old nags at power brunch, she thought as she lustfully contemplated that wobbling prick.

Not that she’d let that go unanswered with her loins still throbbing from his attentions!  “The wonders I work upon you, love?” she asked.  She stroked down over her bare snatch as she replied, affecting a pout. “And what about your wicked druish ways, leaving me quite worn out before even leaving bed without even bothering to satiate the atavism you enchant me with-- see?” she asked.  To better demonstrate her point, she leaned her torso back over the bed, immense breasts drooping back slightly to either side of her.  She swiftly hooked her heels back against the edge of the bed as she lowered her shoulders back to bump her heavy pair back towards him.  Finally, shifting her crotch forward, she pinned open her soaked labia with two fingers and displaying the heated pink within, the heat that needed him still.

He gave her an arrogantly cool wink, contemplating her display with a little rumble, like a civilized thundercloud.  A randy thrill shivered up her spine, jostling her breasts as Mosely grinned broadly.  Mission accomplished, she thought, as he turned from any thoughts of tea.  The shadow of his delectable dick once more over her, the musky scent of it making it increasingly… hard… to think proper Manehattanite Executive thoughts.  “I’m afraid tending to you has quite left me all-a flutter as well, m’dear,” he said with a wink, adding, “It seems I’ll need to draw some refreshment before pouring our drinks.”  He knelt down and, brutal tease that he was, simply rested his head against her quivering, squishy thigh.  For the moment.

There was no long wait this time, however.  He gave her that droll, impertinent grin, wrapped his arms around her knees and swiftly began to kiss and nibble at the sensitive hide of her inner thigh.  His sudden tender assault drew Juicy into a near squeak that she stifled into a more dignified harumph.

She shifted, flouncing her titanic breasts and turning slightly away from him.  A pretense, as though to distance herself from his deeply-desired lewdness.  "My dear," she faux-objected.  "One would think we were still newlywed, dear Mosely!  Such adorable ardor!"  She chuckled deeply and stroked her long fingers through her beloved's leafy green hair-- which felt smooth as silk, even now.  The morning sounds, maids and maidstallions, aides and secretaries shuffling through the border territory of the intervening suites came muffled through the door and she sighed wistfully.  Duty to the clan and corporation soon enough, she grumped, fed into the endless maw of the Manehattan beast.  Why did I try to convince little Applejack this was the life, again?  It was almost an unbearable call away from the lovely stud between her thighs, and...

Twitch.  Every part of Juicy’s body suddenly felt alive.  “Ahnnnn!" she squealed.  "Ah, yes!  There are some compensations,” she whimpered with pleasure.  Forget barbaric coffee.  Tea?  A ritual, nothing more.  This sensation, that heated sense of fullness from his skilled, strong tongue as it invaded her anew, this was what woke her into tingling delight.  And coupled with the insane heft of his shaft forced left and out of his way, leaning against her broad breast?  Hotter than the rays of the blessed sun.

Mosely barreled forward, enthusiasm and ardor seemingly renewed as it did every morning.  He scooped his hands around her thunder thighs, squishing and stroking the pliant flesh back and forth between his fingers, just as his lip rolled and stroked her nigh-vibrating clit.  The sheer girth of his oversized erection pounded and bounced off her leg, and she was caught by the nigh hypnotic bobble and weave of all that succulent masculinity, bouncing between her lush thigh and her vastly lusher teat.  A vision of promised delight that overwhelmed her senses, nearly as compelling as his talented tongue probing against her sensitive, secret treasures.

“More!” she groaned at him.  She wanted more.  Lifting her groin to press ardently over her husband’s tongue, her toes dragged through the thick carpet and her heels shoved up.  Her fingers once more dug little furrows into the bed as she pulled support from it, bouncing over his expert ministrations.  She groaned and gasped, immense triple-Zs shaking and jiggling, their proud, hefty mass shadowing over her husband as he once more tended to his-- their-- favorite morning diversion.

As Juicy moved forward over him, the inevitable happened.  With a sodden, slick slap, Mosely’s proud rod smacked in between her overhanging mega-boobs.  Even as her squishy melons engulfed the fat pole, his tongue renewed its assault, swirling around inside her winking cunny.  She squeezed her hands on his shoulder and tucked her arms in, grinding her breasts gratefully over his shaft as his loving laps sent jolts of pleasure through her body, compelling her toes to curl deep into the carpet once more.

Her steady moans trailed off into another shuddering gasp and uncouth but unrestrainable squeal as her personal and persistent cunnilinguist snagged her daringly naughty clit piercing and had his merry way with it.  There, that! her awakening mind insisted, That, I need that!  She slid her colossally curvy rump back as he dove forward, pulling him closer into her fire while driving her heaving chest forward, fingers pulling hard on his shoulders.

Precum fountained over her chest in the dark warmth between her magnificent mammaries.  Mere moments later, her own juices gushed over Mosely’s eager mouth once more, and they ground together.  With an agility of a mare much her junior, Juicy wrapped the plushness of her thighs around his shoulders once again, her hands slamming back onto the bed for support as she bent herself double over his rapidly jerking head.  With the sloshing heat of her massive rack inches away from simply re-enveloping his head in her cleavage from her sitting position on the edge of the bed, shadowing his knelt form as he pressed himself to her needy, welcoming sex once more.  

Mosely's dexterous lip deftly dipped and nudged against her stiff, throbbing clit, pulling hard at her piercing with an almost magical spiral of heat pulsing out of her clenching, almost squirting core. Juicy felt his strong tongue lap up the rivers of her honey that she unleashed in her throes, whining with need like a decades-younger mare.  As he squirmed in close, fingers drawing lovely lines across the softness of her vastly flaring hips while his hefty shaft ground back and forth in her cleavage, she returned the favor ardently

She explored him in their entwining lusts, running her fingers down and around his tight-packed shoulders, playing with the still-strong muscles, her light olive hide over his pale gold.  Not a warrior, her Mosely, and more fool the girls who'd skipped the chance to ask him out when they were younger as a result.  Not a warrior but more than male enough for this mare-- almost too much!  A fresh wave of lube burbled down his massive member like a waterfall, coating her breasts anew.  As the sudden heat hit, she raked her fingernails across his upper back and gasped.  "Mosely!"

So covered in her giant tits and surrounded by the walls of her luscious thighs, he couldn’t precisely respond verbally to Juicy.  Instead, feet pressing back against the carpet, he demonstrated his mastery of her snatch, as his quick, flicking licks and deep, slurping tonguing drove her body to shaking and shuddering spasms of pleasure.  His tongue was relentlessly deep in her snatch now, probing and prodding as though the taste of her was Elysium on his tongue; the strong, red length pressed deep into her pink, caressing and stroking along her inner walls.  “Yes, dearest!” she squealed, fists curling and pounding the bed.  “More, my love, make me your mare again and again!”

There was no argument from between her thighs.  He forced her to tilt back again by pure amatory excess, unwinding from ripple after ripple of uncontrolled pleasure shooting up from her core.  She gave up on sitting, her arms flopping back onto the bed, the right splashing into the vast pool of his prior release.  Her belly trembled, powerful muscles dragging hard beneath soft pudge.  Her titanic teats jiggled and wobbled endlessly as her fingers splayed out and she arched her back against the bed, crying out with unrestrained ecstasy.  Her legs were around his shoulders, his neck, but they were his playthings, her multitasking, multitalented male massaging her soft plush over hidden strength.  The randy bastard kept finding seemingly new ways to keep her feet kicking back and forth, heels drumming against his back.  As though each bouncing thrash was another score, another notch on the bedpost.

The world began to spin and vibrate into a hazy, pleasure-fogged unreality.  The morning sounds of maids and maidstallions moving around their apartment complex, three floors of luxury suites, faded slowly away.  The tasteful art interspersed with pictures of offspring and relatives seemed to go dull; even the plotting table with all the lovely orange fields arranged just so, all of it seemed to fade away.  There was simply Juicy and her stud, together, as they were meant to be.

She couldn’t speak; he had her, had her completely.  Juicy's clit belonged to Mosely, quite specifically to his prehensile lip.  When he got really excited, even for his always-amorous "morning ritual," she sometimes hazily wondered if he was earthcasting through his lip and into her clit.  His lips moved and his tongue twisted just so, and there!  There was that magic moment again!  As though he were taking his potent mystic energies and using them just to turn her throbbing little button into a venue to spread the magics of pleasure and fertility through her, to puppet sinfully rich sensations in every part of her body.  She'd never caught her feisty mate doing so, but she had dire suspicions!  Dire suspicions and-- ahhhh!-- the feeling that each and every nerve in my nub is being stimulated in sequence.

But not to completion again.  No, as he seemed intent to walk her up onto the bed, his proud flagpole to virility raining his lube on her, he kept her in that wild edge but not… quite… yet.  Not yet that fiery orgasm that she needed so terribly, as though he were bringing her back from the dead rather than simply giving her an obscene wake up call.  If for some reason, she felt that she needed to have Mosely stop-- why, he would have.  Insistent, yes.  Obsessed with her pussy and having her day start "right," certainly, and praise the Sun and Moon alike for that.  Always considerate, though, my darling.  I'm a lucky mare.  Speaking of considerate…

Juicy cried out, "Please!"  The crystalware of their various cosmetics and tonics and what have you rattled with the force of her plea.  His tongue was so long and so close to her G-spot, but he was teasing her, his questing tongue not quite touching, while his lip threatened her with climax and then pushed away.  The please, though… The please was all he needed.

She felt him surge forward, her toes and feet curling as though they’d like to completely reverse direction.  The brace of his wet, strong tongue against her G.  Her arms thrashing against the bed as her mane flew about it wildly.  Her surrender, that was the moment.  Her legs going limp, save for straining feet.  When she let go of her attempts to ride or control the pleasure his tongue bestowed.  Her core forcing her to arch and release, arch and release in time with that ever-prodding organ.  Her own tongue lolling out to the side as she screamed his name once more.

It was her reminder she didn’t have to carry the day on her admittedly powerful shoulders, his promise: that when she was done kneecapping corporate sharks and shouting down idiot politicians-- or even if she just needed a break, she could come back to her stud, and be his.  Had she thrown the pillows from the bed?  Was he up on it with her, or just resting across the edge, his oversized rod divoting the mattress with its pressure?  She couldn’t tell.   Her vision went from hazy to utterly blank out all the sheer pleasure that was fountaining up with her.  The merciless stimulation of her fluttering, winking core, as she squealed as loudly as their wedding night.

Or louder.

Eventually, Mosely finished drinking deep of her spasming, squirting sex.  He moved slowly from the quim he’d conquered quite thoroughly yet again, an almost foalish smile on his face as his immense rod bounced and swayed against her.  His long tongue and charming, soaked muzzle kissed their way into the softness of her plump belly, snuggling his silken hair into the titanic embrace of her triple-Zs, eliciting a small squeak from her before he spoke.  "I am afraid, my dearest, that I'm rather still in need of breakfast."  I’ll just bet you are, my dear old rascal, she thought.

Juicy gave a low chuckle, and for all she'd been squirting over his face a moment ago, her pussy dampened anew, soaking into the absorption spells on the mattress, but the smell lingered.  "Well, we can't have the chief stud of the Orange Clan going hungry, can we?" she asked with a moan, pushing her hands against the sides of her overwhelming orbs, holding them up for his hungry delight.

Without a further word from Mosely, he wrapped his lips tightly around her shotglass-sized nipple and suckled, with greater ardency and urgency than any of their three foals.  They’d raised those foals together, kept them on the straight and narrow, but here, she was succumbing, unable to limit his thirst for her while his throbbing, turgid tool bounced slowly against her other gigantic stretch of breastflesh.  The dual sensations were immediate and overpowering; not only had his long term enchantments kept her natural super-tits quite sensitive and perky (for a given value of perky), she still had his tenth anniversary present.

Not that she meant the public one-- that exquisitely adorable punched tin with the diamond orange emblem was in a place of pride in her office, of course.  No.  The naughty one.  The one that, for all its downsides, she'd chosen, begged her Fertility druid specialist husband to grant her, and still had intensely erotic dreams about.

As her hands pushed around her mammoth mammaries, rubbing them and jiggling them all the faster against her husband’s thirsty face and drooling member, Juicy groaned, and the results of that gift began to bead at the tips of her nipples, the ducts swelling lightly behind her puffy areolae, and as she pressed and pressed, great globs of the nutritious, perpetually sweet milk began to roll down the massive ZZZ cup spheres down her lover’s gulping, demanding throat, towards his amazingly thick prod.  Pleasurable, always pleasurable; a cheating enchantment worked in by her dear one.  Juicy couldn't starve (and thirst was no issue!), and if this had been the old days of the warring clans, she'd have been able to quite reduce the food intake requirements in hard times!

He's always so thoughtful.  And speaking of hard times…

Mewling, she let out a great gasp, then found the will to speak.  "I see you require that we get some milk to go with your honey, don’t you, dearest?  But perhaps, my loving lord," she purred at him, “You could-- unf!-- find provender for us both?”.  She'd never been the world's best singer, but she knew her husband couldn’t resist such a dulcet offer.  He pulled up to his full feet again, rocking back on his heels and setting his magnificently titanic tool wobbling its distracting and demanding way again, his enormous, knee-length nuts wobbling below.  She nickered at him, teasing him, daring him to take greater liberties with his maretriarch while she admired the view.

Mosely's skills with bioenhancement and prolificacy-productivity magic weren't the only reason he was Equestria's Fertility archdruid, as well as the archdruid for the Neigh York area.  No, if my Mosely is to have his milk, I shall have my…  cream.  Her fingers reached idly out to stroke her husband’s toned belly, feeling it gurgle slightly as he planted a foot on the plush, deep carpet, and stepped back.  “You tease!” she growled at him

He laughed quietly, planting his hands on his hips and waggling that delicious dick at her insouciantly once more.  Framed by the light streaming through the curtains shielding their massive bay window from their rooftop garden, he winked at her.  "Shouldn't I be getting the chief maid for breakfast, dear?"

She snorted and reached down to grip his seven inch wide cock-- or part of it.  And all mine, dear me, yes.  My reach exceeds my grasp, but not my hold.  Juicy hauled back greedily on the three and a half foot long monument to virility, daring her husband to do something about it-- to do something about her.  She pressed the immense rod against the titanic softness of her left breast, she ground her fat nip against the veiny surface of her stubborn stallion's gorgeous shaft.  "You bring old White Glove in, dear, and I'm leaving,” she informed him.  “Shan't be shared nor share, Mosely; not without a damn good contract at this point."

Mosely laughed and and kissed her on the swell of her lower breast.  The light of the further-rising morning sun seemed to flow  further, dappling in through the thick curtains, filling the room with almost wispy light and shades of orange.  He smiled, moving in close and pushing his weight up along her and lapping up the dollops of her creamy milk as he went.  "Back along the bed," he said firmly.  

Juicy felt weak in the knees as his crisp, clear command struck her straight in the core of her mind and the root of her pussy.  She contemplated playing more with him, but why hold off against what she wanted?  My sisters and cousins wouldn't understand it at all.  Be terribly against it, of course.  Old-fashioned nags.  Must every boss mare be a dominatrix in private, too?  As though fetish and gender should be pinned together, really.  Outside, she would rule them all, him included, with an iron fist.  In here-- well.  With his cock, she hardly needed a fist to get truly stretched.  Submission it was to be!

She stretched out back along the bed, sinuously drawing her hands back along her body, bouncing her wobbling rack faster for him as she sunk back into the pile of pillows, stretching her thighs out wide.  He came to her, then, as she lusted, as he promised.  His strong, slender form moved along her to pin her soft, curvaceous body back against the mattress-- and that weight, that wonderful weight of his gorgeous prick fell across her, pressing a long shallow dip into her pliant teat on the one side while his head ducked hungrily for the other.  Their hands clasped for a moment, and then his swept to her hips-- and hers found a happy task.

Her eyes narrowed, focusing on that broad, black member as it stroked its veiny, throbbing skin against the hot hide of her mega-melon.  Fingers wrapping around the impossible breadth of all that lovely cockmeat yet again, Juicy's lip curled into a possessive smile.  Eagerly, she kissed the top of her husband's immense maleness, licking it slowly, savoring the taste and savoring the gurgle of his mighty balls back between their entangled legs.  She licked her lips, too, grinning saucily up at her husband.  “Sausage and cream for me, honey and milk for you, dearest?”

He laughed, kissing and teasing at her broad areola, giving her little jitters and titters of delight but she wanted more-- and knew how to entice her loving lord into it.   Squeezing, as any Orange should.  Her fingers grabbed and rubbed at the long column, slipping along immense veins and pressing hard into stiff, sensitive flesh.  Simultaneously, her legs wrapped in tighter, surrounding the engorging masses of his testes, rubbing his heady musk onto her thighs, and she was instantly rewarded by that lovely, strong growl of his, his hands moving up to seize firmly at her giant teat again and tug hard-- the hardness she wanted, against both breasts.

Still, she thought, It won’t do to let my lord think that some rough kneading and I’ll just knuckle under for this lovely shaft again, no.  He has to work to own my body here.  Sucking at the plate-fat flare, her tongue coiled lovingly around the slit and prenched into it lightly.  Shudders ran along her body as she tasted that virile musk, the overwhelming headiness of his lube and leftover cum from before.  She fluttered her tongue in around, stroking his male mix out as he had her cunt before breaking the obscene “kiss” to demand, “Mosely, use me!  Please!”

That “please” again, her consent and ardor all in one, moved him like nothing else.  She felt his fingers press deep into the heavy weight of her massive fifty plus pound knocker, hauling her to him.  “As my dear mare requires,” he chuffed, and dove for her already dribbling teat  As his lips locked around her milky-heavy left nipple and her breath lashed hot over her beloved's super-shaft, she squealed hard.

As he dove for her mountainous breast, his legs tangled with hers and fingers pressing deep furrows into her breast as he pulled it demandingly up to his lips.  She in turn battened onto his huge cock, cradling it in the thick expanse of her teat, her hands gripping solidly.  She took a whiff, and began to slurp like a madmare while his heady lube poured out for her waiting gullet.  If anything, she could swear that his scent and taste got all the stronger every year-- and all the more every time his gigantic nuts put a fresh foal in her eager belly.  

The thought made her shudder, even as he rocked his body against hers.  Each morning, just like this, she sucked hard at the fertile flow of his flare, remembering the last time he’d swelled her belly out with his cum, not for mere hours, but when he’d made her fat and swollen with his progeny, with their children.  And we still can…  He has the power to make it so, even now!  Excited all the more, she whickered at him, shifting her chest up to encourage him to play as he would at her right nub and the teat beyond it, his expert hands leaving traces pleasure like the most magical of infusions anyway. 

Now, though, was the time to plump her belly out from a different direction, same wildly wide erection.  Her hands both concentrated on urging further flow from her sweet stud's heavy shaft, wrapping the sag and squish of her still mostly-perky but impossibly soft melon around the upper part of his cock, as though her breast's warmth could enfold him as much as her sheath below. Her strong legs held her for his thrusts, for their mutual pleasure, and cradled the monstrous obscenity of his heavy, full scrotum between them.  She kept steady pressure of her nipple against the heated, throbbing surface of his wondrous prick, the extra pressure sending her milk pouring down his shaft to be smished around as though it were being covered by her honey beneath; and then, as the pleasure from that grew, he locked his clever lips around her left nip, and sucked.

She gasped and whimpered, fingers clutching as she fervently ground her right mound against that lovely shaft.  Still, hungrier than any five foals, he greedily drew forth her left’s sweet, hot cargo.  Milk poured into her husband's mouth, her favorite way of giving him his favorite treat.  Her feet extended fully, pointing away while her toes clenched, and she let out a howl of pleasure.  

Mosely looked up from his demanding nursing and winked at her, groaning out, “Delicious as ever, darling.”  Before she could pout at the sudden lack of breast-induced ecstasy, he returned to slurping up her thick cream and she focused on wrapping her everything around him.  Juicy clung to him, shifting up from his virile testes with only some regret, loving the thud of them against the mattress, and squeezing the soft-padded luxury of her legs around his taut, hard body.  As he picked up the pace, quivers and shudders ran all along her form as she felt that tight-packed body she loved so much grinding and thrusting within her plush embrace.  She let out a series of well-satisfied groans and then wrapped her lips around his flare, licking her tongue hungrily for the precum gushing around the fertile slit.

He was thrusting again, scooping his hands beneath her giant underboob to keep it with him, his whole body moving against her as he drilled her on the bed.  Cunning old fucker, she thought half incoherently, hardly able to worry about her own internal lapse of decorum; he’d clamped his right leg against the edge of the bed as she held on tight for dear lust.  He found the leverage, pounding her face with his pulsating, veiny-heavy, pre-spewing cock as she eagerly sucked down lube and musk alike, squeezing his shaft completely into a tunnel of her titanic ZZZ-cup teat.

Juicy’s ears were ringing, body-wide shivers of unrelenting sensation driving the world away yet again.  Sounds were overwhelmed.  Was she howling onto his cock?  Was he grunting into her breast?  Well-- the latter, she could tell still, at least.  The heated slam of his supersized shaft into her left knocker’s embrace, and the gasping shudder Mosely panted into her heaving right mega-melon was intensely pleasurable, shocking her whole body as her drenched cunt clenched-- and errant thoughts or anything else in the room except this moment and her stallion were completely eradicated from her consciousness for a long string of squealing and climaxing moments.

Instead, their bodies moved together in joyous harmony, his tongue and teeth lightly teasing at the terrifically sensitive nub in between slurps.   He neglected nothing of her.  His hands moved wildly, caressing hips, squeezing thighs, everywhere.  Abruptly, his fingers were on her needy clit, tweaking lightly, rubbing swiftly, manipulating her little decoration around to further unleash pleasure throughout all of her, his huge cock warm, almost burning surrounded by her soft, squishy titflesh.  She felt her milk splurge out  both sides now, the magical potency reacting to her husband's uncanny virility; for all that she would surrender none of his delicious lube, he was still slick in the enclosure of her folded-over teat.

Sweat pouring from her body, she found a brief moment of coherence in between the body-wracking climax he forced through her.  "Earth and fire, Mosely!" she cried out, and then dove back to lewdly slurping up every drop of precum, every dollop of slickness she could manage.   She could feel the thickening in his already obscene shaft-- better yet, could feel the savage weight of his balls swelling out between their entangled, outstretched thighs; it was depressing the entire mattress back behind him!

Even as Mosely filled his belly with the delicious, creamy splashes of her milk, she eagerly pushed his pleasure with her tongue and titanic tit alike.  Her own zealous delight reflected through the electric tingling through the responsive flesh she pushed and dragged around his overwhelming dick.  Neither of them had precisely the same talents as a full hyper, and yet-- she felt the delicious sensation of her jaw distending, flesh moving in obedience to her lover's sheer mass.  Forcing her head forward, she bounced the choking girth off the back of her throat.

You like that, don't you, my horny, primal stud?  You like hearing me gurgle and feeling my throat trying to gobble down dick and gasp down air, filled only with more cock and more musk…  She threw the sheets completely away onto the far end of the bed, squirmed around in the depression she’d left over the night and sucked hard.

Juicy wasn't sure if she had ever stopped cumming throughout the entire affair, but her husband's pretty prick was nearing it; she could feel the fertility flow into him, the grand divinity of the wilds that he served rewarding him for that service.  And rewarding me for the servicing…  She growled around the mastering member and… there.

It was his turn to gasp, his turn to throw back his head.  His turn to roar out her name, that lovely shout of "Juicy!" at the top of his lungs.  She could hear it, she was always sure, seed and sperm gurgling and mixing together as she definitely felt first Mosely’s already gigantic balls fill and swell to accommodate his orgasmic preparations-- and then the surge of hit, his ludicrously virile girth pushing from cunny to belly to breast to-- her.  To her waiting lips and well fucked throat.

My breakfast, part one, my matronly figure to retain.  That smug thought was the last clear moment before Mosely's climax almost fucked her back to sleep, or at least into such a full-body haze of bliss that she couldn't tell the difference between the waking world and Luna's domain.    She wanted to just close her eyes, pull Mosely up until he was completely covering her, better than the best comforter, and go back to a gentle, sticky slumber.  It was quite a good thing that her dear lovey started his morning ritual a little early.

A sharp whistle steamed out, and a fresh bergamot smell wafted over the fading scent of their mutual sex as Juicy found her way back to full consciousness.  She groaned, stretching and swishing her tail as she felt the cool cloth over her back.  Opening an eye she peered back at Mosely, her smile broad as she watched him clean the sweat and mingled fluid from her body.  He might be most cavalier with his maretriarch’s person, but he does so love taking care of me.  Yawning, she said, “Mmm.  Final stage of preparing your boss mare for the day?”

He guffawed lightly and nodded, grabbing her lounging robe as he stood.  “Mm, indeed, darling.  We may have gone a little bit long; I had to put the reheater on the tea.”

Smirking, Juicy rose as well and slipped her arms into the robe before stroking the still-immense mass of his softening shaft.  “It’s never just a little long with you, dearest,” she told him with a laugh, and shook her rump like a college filly when he spanked her, a rosy red glow to start her day of kicking others’ asses.


> Chapter 2 - Meeting for the (Power) Exchange
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door to the CEO’s office was shut tight, and the well-padded walls ensured that not a note of sound escaped.  Most of the employees of Orange Holdings had thought they had an idea of what was going on, of course.  The only sweetness in their boss mare’s life was her husband.  Of course they were clinking wine glasses and talking about potential grandchildren, right?

The wine, at least, was present.  Or had been.  The empty bottle and two well-drained glasses were waiting discretely by the door to be picked up later.

"And then your father, sweet man that he was…"

"Sweet, hah!  You didn't grow up on the Acres with the old bushwhacker.  Quiet, yes, and doting on dear Mama, but I can't help believe that I learned as much about cutthroat discipline from him as with your mother, and she believed in sending fools home short a few body parts!”

Juicy guffawed lightly, leaning back in her broad office chair.  She felt nostalgic today, wearing her favorite power suit and pencil dress, one of her customary gold chokers with orange and green garnets dotting it.  The voluminous swell of her immense breasts and the dangling jewels hanging from the choker stopped moving a little bit after the rest of her, and she grinned over at her husband, relaxing her forearms along the armrests.  "Well, I'll admit, when your aunt tried to order him with that picnic…"

Robe settled loosely about him--  though the looseness did little to conceal the intensely oversized shape of his vast stallionhood-- as he sat on the edge of her broad orangewood desk, careful of the pictures of family, of course.  Mosely snorted.  "Were you even paying attention to that little fracas?” he asked.  “I seem to remember a certain Manehattanite temptress who kept putting her roaming paw down my trousers.”  Smiling, he squeezed Juicy's right hand lightly with his left.

She turned briefly, tucked away the last letter into her outbox, then lifted his hand up to her lips and kissed his fingers lightly, sucking lightly on each tip.  "Temptress, was I?” she growled at him.  “Who was it, exactly, that kept ‘accidentally’ bumping a certain smuggled python against my sensitive rump?"  She glared at him, then squeaked happily as he pulled her bodily out of her chair.  Grinning maniacally, she squealed all the happier when he spanked the plush tush in question right through the silk pencil skirt of her beautifully well-tailored business suit.  "Mosely!  We are at work!"  She harumphed at him and wriggled her broad behind, her vast hips completing the impression of an hourglass figure set out to time the entire day.

Eyes twinkling and hand giving her absurdly curvaceous right hip a lovingly possessive squeeze, Mosely sighed and kissed her on the neck lightly.  Possessed of a fey, nostalgic mood, he slid off the desk to his feet, following her.  "Pfagh, darling,” he replied.  “Don't you remember, back in the day, when I was interning with your mother's orchard assessment team, our little tête-à-tête in that one unused office?"  He chuckled softly, looking around.  

Hers was definitely a lived-in office.  It was background to Juicy, outlining her clanmother life just as thoroughly as the bedroom did their private.  Oh, perhaps a little more emphasis on “important” and imposing artwork, but family, both Orange Clan and Apple, were pictured everywhere.  She fit here, her square shoulders, the skeptical, determined glare, the way her vastly fertile and overripe body seemed merely like one more aspect of her power and mistressy.  Here, she was princess and regnant, and her power suit was-- not camouflage-- but a kind of visual song, enhanced by the chorus of the room, drawing all eyes to her and her will.  Clues to her conquests were everywhere; various little plaques and certificates, the subtler the better, indications of her power and who had been forced to thank her for smacking them down in the cutthroat Fence Street world…

It was a stark and vibrant microcosm of the power and control resting in the person of this loving clanmother.  And Mosely adored dominating her in the midst of it.  He leaned in closer, his robes, and his head-sized bulge, brushing against her body as he settled close to her, thoughts and plans already percolating.

She reached up to catch his muzzle in a firm but adoring hand, gaze meeting his with a challenge, matching him in memory and planning alike.  Shaking her head wryly, Juicy gave him a wistful smile and stroked his chin, long fingers tracing with possessive love over his light hide.  She smiled and asked, "You mean the first time we tried getting a little kinky, and I had that battering ram you call a dick between my thighs, and both of us jumped every time someone passed in the hall?"  She laughed and firmly pulled his muzzle to hers for a gentle kiss, right on his soft nose before sitting back down, settling her deliciously padded derriere in as though taking up a throne.  "Only every other time you leave my pussy alone long enough to masturbate, darling.  It was exquisite.  Such a pity it’s long in the past."

Light regret touched his features, but she might have recognized the sly look atop it.  Might have, if she hadn’t been distracted.  He walked casually behind her chair, resting the musky mass of his robed rod against the back.  Letting out a slight chuff from the weight, he let his heavy balls swinging down along it, rocking her lightly in the seat.  She certainly had no objections; she had quite a good deal of fondness for feeling the weight of all that dick, clothed or not and all belonging to her with the rest of him, settle close to her.

He reached out for her shoulders, broad strength not quite a hyper, but a magnificent display of her earth pony heritage and standing.  Strong hands with talented fingers elicited a not-quite non-sexual moan of release as he played with her muscles.  "Yes.  A pity indeed, darling.  When did getting to the top of our professions mean we have less fun?" he asked, and kissed the crest of her elegantly styled mane.

Juicy reached back up to sympathetically caress one of his lithe arms, tracing over the toned limb beneath his elegant robes.  Whereas she had dressed for her usual power meetings ("Yelling at other old nags and the occasional aged smooth mouth stallion with the push to get over the glass mounting block, basically"), her dear one had gone with the modern version of ceremonial regalia.  She smirked, pulling his arm forward and tracing the supposedly abstract whorls that were, in fact, actually rather accurate representations of what his phallus did to her when they truly got going.  The smirk suddenly widened.  In public, indeed.

The fingers of his other hand twitched, and pressed down along her silken jacket towards the impossible to miss promontory atop her bosom, right below where her choker’s trailing adornments seemed pulled down into the depths of her cleavage.  "I know that smile, darling," Mosely commented wryly.  All of a sudden, he smoothly pulled her back from the desk.  As she gave a not-quite-grumpy squawk, he twirled the chair around, tilted her lips up and kissed her forcefully.  "Your simply divinely devious mind has come up with something.  Possibly involving my sweetie's exhibition fetish," he wagered before pressing their lips together once more.

Her right hand came up in an instinctive rush, fingers closing on his wrist.  With mild reluctance, she pulled the hand holding her muzzle away.  Caught, at that, she admitted, to herself, though  she glared at him.  Nose turned up, she snorted and broke the kiss.  Her cheeks flushed to a darker orange, and as his teasing smile broadened, she turned her head furtively to the front of her office  She had a sense for their games, and needed to make certain all of the curtains were quite closed on the windows.  They were.  Solid on her grounds, she rounded back on him and half-objected, half-laughed, "Dear!  Please.  Not every one of my ideas involves rutting like a teenager in near-public."

He appeared less than convinced, taking his hand back and setting both on his hips.  Which of course entirely coincidentally jutted his gigantic package forward, brushing against the front of her jacket and the titanic teats within.  Juicy’s pleasured purr deepened with fascinated delight.  Skepticism and enthusiasm made for an elegantly provocative expression on her husband’s face, after all.  Oh Celestia, she thought.  That eyebrow.  That look!  Mosely snorted back at her.  Straightening up, he ran his fingers along the self-same robes she’d been admiring moments ago.  "You asked me to design my robes of office based on pictures of how your belly looks when I hilt in you," he pointed out.

"... You're the archdruid of fertility!  It’s a signifier of your station and accomplishments!"

He simply waited.  Eventually, laughing, she just lewdly grabbed at the immense bulge at his waist  Her fingers pressed in deep; even loose robes couldn't conceal that monster.  My monster, she thought contentedly.  She lifted her chin up and answered him indirectly, if functionally affirmatively.  She haughtily told him, "My dearest Mosely, I own the damn building and the corporation outright.  If I want to have sex with my husband in a closet, I will damn well slap a sign on it with my letterhead, and…"  An idea hit; her fingers stroked hard into the robe’s fine fabric, drawing the threads along her husband’s ever-responsive mega-member.  Juicy leered a bit as Mosely groaned, rocking his hips forward, huge balls rolling into her lap to compete for space with her triple Zs.

She grinned from flicking ear to flicking ear, rising up to her feet with satisfied swish of her tail.  The sudden motion set her rump and rack a-jiggle tremendously.  That, in turn, rolled his giant pillar of barely contained flesh and its two fuck-boulder friends back to wobble.  Striding around her desk, she idly ran her hands over her filing cabinets.  An old pattern, sorting mentally for some marital amatory fun, rather than the corporate business of the clan.

Yes, this, I shall have this, she thought.  What those old nags would never countenance, but definitely clan business nonetheless.  She wheeled back along the broad length of her desk until she came back to her bemused husband.  Turning close to him and leaning up against the side of his taller frame, she licked lightly at the edge of his ear.  "Yes.  I will slap the sign on… and beg," she gasped at him.  Her panties already soaked, she clicked her tongue against her teeth, her deft hands rubbing her palms across the smooth covering over his lanky chest.  "Please, Mosely.  I need it so badly.  We didn't have enough time…"

Calmness, she ordered herself.  She took strength against the needy itch in her loins from his steady heartbeat.  Her respite was but brief; the itch became a throb in her clit as she looked up and saw that capricious glimmer in his eyes.  "Peace, dear," Mosely said, and reached down, grabby hands moving smoothly to her far-swept hips and abruptly tugging.  No unicorn he, this had to be done by hand and care.  Here, in her office, the door not even locked, he was pulling up her skirt!

She shifted on her feet as though to pull away, but a shudder ran down her.  It raced to her feet, curling her toes and locking them to the floor.  Juicy glanced apprehensively towards the solid, wooden door yet again as she felt him expose her lightly haired hide to the cool office air.  Her left hand curled into a fist; her right seemed to move of its own accord to her lips, and she subconsciously chewed on a finger.  I mean, she thought, It is shut.  And soundproof.  

Juicy swallowed around a sudden clutch of need.  Her shivering body responded to both the sheer uncouthness of it all… and the incredible hotness.  Blast this stud anyway, she thought as she glared forward.  Anyone else a tenth as presumptive and I’d have them gutted by now!  Mouth dry, she looked across her desk, and wondered if she shouldn’t ask him to move over one of the chairs to brace the door or something.  Inhaling sharply, she said, "Mosely, wait-- we need to have some caution…"

The randy, roguish bastard didn’t pause a second.  Moving swiftly, he pulled her pencil skirt up all the way.  His strong hands rested the garment atop her succulent arse and hips like an obscene mini-bustle.  "That didn't sound like 'Rutabaga,' to me," Mosely said with a devious laugh that set her body squirming.  The squirms expanded, ripples and wiggles going through her gigantic tits, bobbing inside her straining suit jacket.  Little jingles from where her choker and its hanging decorations bounced in the wake of the mountains beneath.  He loomed so close, his huge phallic mass pushing against her belly as she squirmed for him.  His fingers moved slowly but surely, sinking into the vast, curvaceous fat of her thighs.  She shuddered, thinking, Too much!  She couldn’t speak; just squeal, liquid arousal pouring down from her bare cunt, shorn and vulnerable.

Her breath caught and her spine stiffened.  Juicy caught him with her favorite glare once more.  “Best not stop, then, old stud,” she growled at him in challenge, wriggling her body to catch his robe-clothed balls against one of her massive hips.  Demanding with her clan consort as always, she rolled her hip back to the side and then ground her crotch full forward.  Unequivocally, she presented her shaven slit, dripping lewdly just for him.   Her hands clasped together behind his neck and she kept staring at him, expectant.  His hands claimed her in turn as his breathing deepened, hot against her cheek.  One hand, smooth from treatment but strong from work, took a place of privilege on her quivering rump; the other cradled her beloved little adornment.

An obscene crown for her well-loved pussy, untouched since their "breakfast" that morning, it stood as one of the naughtier signs of her little games with Mosely.  At least as far as the traditionalists, damn the neotraditionalists anyway would think; bronze, druid's metal, piercing her stiff nub and enchanted for a variety of purposes.  Most pertinently at the moment, unless she was threatened, it dramatically increased the pleasurability of manipulation of her now ever-stiff clitty.  Manipulation she could produce simply by walking.

Her grin broadened as she shook her hips, forcing a gasp out of her lecherously impudent stallion.  Her waggle made his balls and prick bounce over her thigh and side.  Her pretty toy shook too, and she licked her lips with the thrill.  She looked hungrily over her shoulder, seeing not merely the signs of stimulation in his eyes… but his own rising ardor.  Stunned you, did I, Mosely? she thought, grinning as his hands hesitated and his gaze flickered over her.

Not that a mere pleasure toy would be that odd in their set.  No, the source of Juicy’s perpetual smug thrill here, that which gave her an illicit thrill every time she thought she heard a brief metal sound from below during her day, flowed from her husband's cutie mark, the orange very distinct from her slices, forming the weight on the piercing.  Not just a snug little ring, either.  No, the mark danged from the piercing itself by a little chain so that his tongue would never be obstructed from lavishing attention on her pleasure-button.  

Of course, the delightful little toy aided his pursuit of her pleasure there as well!  Mosely recovered quickly from her challenge, as she damn well required of him.  He pressed forward, and she could feel as well as scent the musk of his egregiously overendowed member all along her side as it thickened within the robe.  Sweat poured down her forehead and her hands clasped tighter together behind his neck as he focused amatory and expert attention on her and her lovely little decoration.  

The clench of his fingers behind her, squeezing and fondling her bubble butt through a rolling massage “warned” her that his determination to have his wicked way with her had returned.  Juicy unknit her hands from behind his neck as he pulled back from her slightly to give him better access to her needy nethers.

He'd pulled the pencil skirt up all the way over her belt, bunching it above her middle and exposing her fat, squishy hind end.  The obscenely feminine flaring of her rear swelled out so curvaceously and so far from her waist that his hand barely angled as he possessively took her rear in hand.  Her hands trailed over his supple chest, tugging the folds apart to reveal the light gold beneath.  As she whickered softly, he moved with expert deftness, teasing his finger over his mark.  Each expert stroke pressed it back against her damp, naked labia.  

She let out a long, nickering moan and stumbled lightly back as a fresh jolt of pleasure ran up through her core, clenching tightly and sending her massive tits shaking.  Mosely moved there with her, turning her around to face across her broad executive desk.  An insolent swat set her jiggly tush bouncing to match her heavy rack, and Mosely drew a light brush of the back of his hand along the jacket seam down from her underarm.  “Get yourself ready, darling; I do recommend your, ah, clear desk, clear mind policy to your recall,” he warned ominously.

Her pussy throbbed so hard she wondered if her clit was wriggling her piercing instead of the other way around!  Still unsure of the wisdom of this course but wanting, desperately needing the exhibitionist thrill, she moved to get herself room on the broad desk.  It was mostly clear anyway; she seized control of her body with iron will to finish things, no dithering.  

Despite the chill of the air conditioning over the rolling, smoothly taut expanse of her naked, teardrop ass and bared, dripping nethers, she moved with the same snap as she might clearing a former rival’s suite to hand their business over to a new subordinate of hers.  Some things, you did by hand, for the satisfaction of it.

Mind you, she wouldn’t have shaken her rump and flagged her tail too, husband or no husband, with a rival’s desk.  The shake of her delectable derriere as she cleaned it out would have been enough to satisfy her need to assert spatial dominance.  She deftly shuffled what few papers remained from her last purge, and the most precious of her personal trinkets to the sides of her vast workspace before retaking her braced stance.

He kept himself from her field of vision, and her blasted inner will receded.  That treacherous lust left her at the mercy of her horniness and hesitation.  She couldn’t bring herself to turn her head to follow him as he walked around her.  She just stared forward at the door, lips quirking at her own foibles even as her mind raced, thinking, Thank Twilight for soundproofing!  The noises he could call up out of her-- the squeals he could drive her to!  He knew her most intimate and secret places.  Knowledge he applied not merely when eating her out, but able to send every part of her into an orgasmic mess from the very incidence of touching her.  He was a connoisseur of her body, an expert in her pleasure.  She bit her lip as she felt him rest his enormous balls on the bared cushion of her luscious buttocks.  Do I safeword?  This is my office!

Mosely’s arms surrounded her, squeezing slowly about her waist, resting his arms on her broodbearing hips.  He leaned over her, body to body and she took a moment of vicious victory in hearing the lecher grunt as her twitching ass began to massage his overstuffed nuts.  Nonetheless, he pressed on.  “I recall our little half-illicit office rendezvous as though it was yesterday,” he whispered into her ears, his weight pressing harder against her back.

She ground her fingers against the desk, clenching her hands around the edge to brace.  Striving to find a new center in the euphoric imbalance, she managed a lusty moan, an imperious snap of her teeth, and not a blasted thing more.  It phased him not at all.  He slyly caressed Juicy's trembling quim, digits slowly teasing her shivering mound.  "You started with begging," he told her, the palm of his opposite hand moving back and up to the top of her extensive ass.  Another light caress, a chuckle, a squeeze that sent her bouncing beneath his giant package once more-- only no hesitation this time.  “Begging for this, if I recall correctly,” he told her, grinding his oversized, still half soft damn him package against her.  “Between outraged mutters about the scandal.”

Her eyes lit with a fire she hoped he felt behind her and she snapped her left hand back.  She angled her hips, too, to bounce her butt and his rutting nuts above quite severely as she clapped her fingers around the robe-swathed length.  Her quads tensed, powerful muscles beneath the lickably vast exaggeration of her thighs’ curves and she squeezed into the sensitive male flesh.  “I only thought I knew what a scandal was!” she hissed.  

But-- Juicy didn’t say no.  Chest heaving, her fingers greedily searching for some way past that blasted robe, she swallowed heavily again, staring at the door.  In time, the hand molesting her rump so delightfully came up, and took her wrist.  He guided her grip back to the desk and left her with only that intoxicating scent; that portentous weight.  At least I got him to lube a little, at least I provoked that m--  

The thought cut off as Mosely replied, tingling shivers running through every shimmying part of her lush super-hourglass body.   "My dear!  Is that not scandalous enough?  My tough-minded, iron-fisted-- mm, fisting--" he guffawed lightly-- and flicked his middle finger into her wetness-- "Beautifully charismatic mare, begging and squirming for a stallion of all things."

Her knees were the first to buckle, her concern fading into trust for her stallion, for her husband, for her love.  As her stubbornness followed, she all but fell forward onto her desk, pulling free of his hands.  She moaned, hearing him lick lightly at his fingertips, tasting her spent essence.  Blessing their prior preparation, Juicy propped herself up on the desk with her gigantic breasts, leaving her hands free.  For all their squish and give-- and they were squishing, splurting milk into the hidden cups and pouches she had secreted into her bra-- they were simply so massive that she could hold herself up nonetheless, her choker dangling forward.  

Trembling, she reached behind her and grabbed her rump cheeks, nearly as broad as her heavy knockers.  She stretched her feet out to sides and pulled at her naked ass cheeks, luscious flesh parting down to her thick thighs, exposing her needy cunt and tight anus.  Strong muscles tensed tightly under her well-padded curves and she ground her teeth together.  Whatever he wanted, however he wanted it, she would give it; she would do it, so long as he did her!  "I don't give a griffon's fart!" she growled, her misgivings evaporated for the nonce.  She threw her elegantly styled mane back, letting it bounce as she howled, "Fuck me, please!"

Apparently, what her Mosely wanted was to tease, and she nearly came from just the control in his voice.  "No," he told her in a clipped, firm voice.  Nearly came; and nearly turned around to punch him, the brute!  Before she could make up her mind, she heard his shoes scraping the floor as he shifted behind her, and began to massage her lovely, plump hind end.  Her briefly resurgent resolve melted as he slowly covered all of her delicious curves in exquisitely magnificent pampering.  Each set of strokes was coupled with ecstasy-inducing squeezes into deep tissue, but he persisted in neglecting her sopping slit!  "No, not here, you're quite right, mustn't…” he murmured

"Blast you!" She growled, stamping her foot, sending rumpquakes jogging and jiggling across her expansively gorgeous cheeks back against his fingers.  The force of it traveled up to her triple-Zs as they cushioned her on the table, the shocks on her choker setting it off like windchimes, the shocks across the desk proper rattling the framed and propped pictures of their now-grown children.  She tried to swat his hands with her tail, to provoke the hard pounding she wanted from that heavy prod of his.

Instead, she earned herself a stern spank that had her squealing like a teenager again, her offending tail returning to a perfect flag.  With, ah, "sternness" so delicious she had to will herself not to drool, he left his handprint three times in each cheek with not a hint of overlap!  She whined, not with pain, for he would never harm her, but with absurd levels of pleasure and delight.  Groaning, she tried to convince him by appealing to his stallion ego, "Mosely, I need you, darling, dearest, my lord.  I need your beautiful dick deep in me  I need you like sandy soil and good drainage, please my lord please please please!"

She was babbling, Juicy knew.  For two decades, she'd run the Orange Clan with a will of steel and an eye sterner than any save perhaps the Inquisitors of the Harshwhinny Family, and he had her babbling like she'd just been stuffed and overstuffed for the very first time.  Oddly, the thought satisfied-- immensely, in fact.  She reminded herself, Of course, that's because my stud is good at what he does.  Good, and respectful to boot; he wouldn't push her, for all that they both yearned for so much more.  Her body trembled, her lusts and her needs circling in an exquisite abandon that only their mutual trust provided.

He wouldn’t, she knew, push this if there had been any hint of a specific meeting or visit coming up.  He respected her time; obeyed her will as the final authority in all things clan.  The snap of a safeword or even his quick wit catching a moment, and play would be over.  She didn't call him "master" outside of a very well-defined scene.  He didn't try to get her ensnared into lovely subspace without such as well.  Ah, though-- how they danced lovely attendance around the ideas and lusts until they could borrow or steal enough time to really let loose.

She panted, loving and hating the wild edge he rode her along.  And then, that calm, loving baritone made her wriggle broad rump and flicking tail once more.  "Juicy," he said softly.  "I know, darling."  His tracing, pushing, kneading, gripping hands continued to leave waves of stimulation passing over her swaying, bouncing ass.  His fingers pressed in deep, pleasuring her padded upper layer and soothing the toned layer of muscle beneath the lush.  "Can you take the teasing, love?" he asked.  With that, his other hand moved deftly between her vivacious thighs and thumbed her clit ring, just lightly flicking its dangling mark-- his dangling mark, her way of shouting to the world to whom she gave her trust and her lust and her love… without actually being much more than a safe whisper.

Trust, that was the thing.  She had thirty years of marriage and their two years of courtship before to know just how solidly she could trust Mosely.  All the more so than anything but safety where matters of her pleasure were involved.  She took a brief moment of self-reflection, caught a look of her flushed, panting face in the shaded window.  Right.  This is me, she reminded herself, and shifted her stance to spread her thunder thighs all the wider for his viewing and playing pleasure.  Her obscenely flared flanks began to roll and wriggle, her hands still keeping her asshole and vulva exposed, and she did her level best to let that little bronze orange dangle as freely as it could.  

Silence behind her, his hands frozen for just a moment.  She saw her blissed-out smile grow smug, mirrored in the darkness of the blocked window.  Got you again, you arrogant, lovely, fat-cocked fucker! she crowed mentally.  Decorum gone-- honestly, even before her skirt had gone over her hips-- and panting heavily, Juicy told him, "I trust you always, my Mosely, my sweet stud, my loving lord.”  

She let her self-exposure lapse and rubbed her palms briefly into the stinging marks he left behind.  Just some quick rubs, then she dipped forward, squishing the slosh of her gigantic rack further to every side on her desk while she pulled her cheeks as far as she could.  "Fuck," she cursed, out loud of all things, as though years younger, and stared straight ahead at the unlocked door, sneering at weak inanimate threats of opening.  "Do me as you will," she said with a groan.  "I trust you.  I need you to--"

Here she broke off, swallowing a thousand lusty demands into a wordless mewl, dancing on the edge between ache and release.  It wasn't from reluctance, but rather an old and instinctive step in the dance.  She didn't need to watch her moves now, nor to call the steps, because he was always there to follow with the next twist to the turn.  Moving again, hands warm on her offered ass, he knelt behind her.  "I know your need, darling," he whispered, and then gently tucked his index and middle finger of the left hand between her gorgeously overlush thighs to capture the dangle of the clit piercing, and slowly tug on it.  "You need release.  Let me give it to you."

She bowed her head, her beehive’s leading bangs bobbing wildly.  Mosely ran the fingers of his right hand in a massaging, claiming drift along the back of her suit.  His steady fingers kneaded in delightful pressure all the way up to between her powerful shoulders.  She felt the buzz of his druidic magic accompany the firm caresses, twin vibrations running through her; the collected will of the Clan, her ownership of the room.  She let out short, choking gasps as he worked his way into the immense, almost hyper-strength of her back, up and down, back and forth.  On the third iteration, he whispered a Word, bringing her desk shivering to life once more.

Shivers turned to shaking, from the desk, from her body, and she felt the weight of him lean against her.  The smirk returned to her face and her toes clenched in time with her exposed cunt.  Her mind blossomed and filled with the renewed wonder of it all.  All this earth magic, she thought,  just to get one old mare off.  You spoil me, Mosely.

The shudders rocked against Juicy's heaving mega-mounds, and her milk gushed into the containment pouches of her bra almost as much as her honey rolled out onto the floor.  The sudden burst of energy ripped a mini-orgasm through her that had her gasping.  Her hands dropped to her side as her great cheeks slapped together as she scrambled to grab the desk and hold on  She didn't care; she trusted him.  

He was beside her all of a sudden.  His left hand caressed her back gently, but his right stroked over her eyelids, brushing her long lashes down.  Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth to moan in anticipation.  As a result, she wasn't entirely surprised when her teeth sunk down over the orange Mosely literally used to gag her.  The one he had poured a ridiculous amount of earth magic into growing out of her desk, because of course he had.  Spoil me or drive me to murder you, there’s my love, she thought; all she managed vocally was an incoherent growl of objection.

But her trust remained strong.  She knew he was crazy when she asked him to marry her, after all.

She opened her eyes and contemplated standing up, or grabbing the orange, or anything when a firm palm pressed down between her shoulders.  Damn my lust for this insane druid, she thought, not only slumping back against the messy, milky slosh of her triple Zs, but she pushed her feet up onto the balls to wriggle her ass for him!  That damnably cool, debonair voice took up once more, speaking over the chimes of her necklace, "Now, darling, unless I see your 'triple flag' on the play, instead of that adorably lewd permanent flag back here…"  Mosely's fingers walked back to behind her, and stroked up under her tailbase.  He tended to her with a gentle violation deep between the cheeks she once more spread submissively for him, and she whinnied, muffled around the orange.  

He took up station behind Juicy, but only lightly toyed with her twitching, flagged tailbase.  "Quite," he continued.  "Without that call, what's going to happen is that I'm going to watch for lifesigns through the earth flow while I finger your lovely little tailhole," he explained, his obscene intent and the thrills it evoked forcing her to gurgle further pleasured distortions around her gag.  "And use my mark on your sweet, stiff little clit to remind you…  You gave yourself to me, and thereby, I am always yours, my sweet Juicy."

She didn’t flag the play.  He acted promptly.  His left forefinger trailed between her quivering buttocks, teasing the sensitive, darker flesh.  His right hand scooped around her broadly curved hip and around in front to catch the dangling, dancing piercing.  Nostrils flaring, long legs proud and high, she inhaled deeply, cheeks hollowing around the orange.  And then he went to work on her, stroking her anus in long, gentle circles, preparing her for the violation.  The fond and fondling invasion plundered her in time to the slow tugs and flicks on her lovely little decoration.

It was exquisite, torture from the softest pleasure and most certain of delights.  Her eyes rolled back into her head even as her hourglass shifted, her wide hips rolling to the right, to him.  The triple pleasure of invaded rump, teased clit, and knowing, knowing that anyone could come in yet certain Mosely would deal with it-- an euphoria so potent as to nearly complete and climax her all on its own.  She chewed around the orange, drool flecking the side of her cheek as she discarded culture and etiquette utterly.  She humped back hard, needing to be filled, even just her tight, well-padded tush.  Between thrusts, she felt a second finger join the first slowly stretch out her asshole for his ministrations.  His gentle but persistent "guidance" of her clit swiftly exploded into myriad jolts of delight so hard she almost wanted to bite through the orange, but didn't dare!

Then, her darling husband played his trump card, saying, "And then, I'm going to just freshen up, and you, smelling of sex like the last time we romped in a closet, are going to 'slap up' the warning, just like you said.  You're going to put it on that janitorial closet just down the way, and then you, trembling, CEO and bossmare of Orange, Inc. will wait for me in the dark."  She couldn't see it, but knew he was grinning like a party pony.  Almost certainly the more so as he took renewed and redoubled interest in coaxing forth Juicy's climax, her clit delightfully manipulated by the piercing, his two fingers now plunging repeatedly into her ass.  "Because I tell you to-- because you want me to tell you to cum, Juicy."

She let out a shuddered, muffling gasp.  He was right, damn him.  To the finest degree, he had her number as securely as he had her clit.  As she thrashed, rolling her hips like her heat had hit, an oddly calm portion of her mind drawled, To be fair to dear hubby, I've certainly expressed that requirement of him on more than one of our less-spontaneous occasions!  Not that any part of her was objecting to this turn of events, no.

After all, with her ass gripping at Mosely's fingers and her twat outlining her piercing and the dangling chain in her sweet honey once more, she certainly knew how much her body, at least, favored his "wicked, masculine wiles" upon it!  And that divine taste, not just of the slight oddness of the orange peel, but of her darling’s delicious arousal scent upon the air-- a delicacy.  But more importantly, the delicious sensation of being controlled.  Just what the Juicy ordered.

“Cum, Juicy.  Cum for me,” were the words she’d waited to hear from him, holding herself back for that moment.  He had her, and he held her, and as one too many tugs sent its explosive pleasure up through the inferno of her spasming, drenched core, Juicy began to cum in muffled squeals around the orange gagging her.  The pleasure was incalculable; she opened her eyes wide, only for them to be filled with white just before she felt them roll up back into her skull.  Forget the fumbling futtering of youth, forget it entirely.  In all her wild days before their betrothal, she’d never had anything like what he did to her-- again and again every day.

Nor any offer worth the time since.  She'd been hit on by mares and submissive stallions who wished to herd with her and Mosely for a long time.  None of them measured up, and none of them even thought to offer what Mosely did: an intimate space where someone else did the work, where someone else took real responsibility, finally.  They all seemed to think that just because she'd crush your trachea before letting you touch Orange territory, she had to be a dominant in the bedroom.

Or, as in this case, her executive suite.

Mosely's tender care of her massively squishy tush and the thin lightning of her sensitzing clit ring in agile little tugs continued unabated throughout her orgasm.  She could never quite tell when her head swam uncontrollably in an ocean of pleasure like this, but she honestly felt he might be taking the opportunity to plunge deeper into her arse-- he did love it so.  She had to release her rumpcheeks, planting her hands down on the table.

Her curvaceous body shook and trembled from  her desperate combination of the struggle to hold onto the desk and the burning need to rut back hard into his invading fingers.  Her soft flanks folded around his hand, and she only half-consciously clenched.  Her anus delicately squeezed at his thrusting digits while pumping her pleasured plump softness against the obstruction of his hand.  Each new motion, each new wriggle exploded with more and still more sensation from the inexorable press of flesh to flesh.

He kept Juicy going for quite some time through the extended climax, her tail unable to switch from where it hammered hard to the side.  The long strands draped over the beautiful curve of her tremendous left hip; an asymmetric decoration in homage to his continued pounding.  Finally, laughing softly, he knelt down a bit to kiss one of Juicy's scrumptious upraised cheeks, and pulled his hands free.  Even while her climax went on, he made a quiet sniff before moving away from her-- the cad!  His languid voice floated over to her in the midst of her climax, saying, "I'm afraid, m'dear, I need to wash my hands before I go further.  You can take care of your skirt, yourself, I'm sure."

"Mrmmfmsmgl!"

"And the orange.  I'm leaving a bit of the ol’ fertility spin on, redirecting some of your lovely juice out into the desk to return some of its vitality; it'll clean you up just grand."

Juicy glared, and pulled the orange out, standing swiftly to her feet.  She set the orange down on the desk with an angry thud.  Glaring, she wriggled her wide hips wildly and set off a stormy sea of rump-jiggles as she haughtily tugged down her skirt again.  All the while, her husband's fertility magic drained her femmecum as a 'sacrifice' to the desk, indeed leaving her skin clear of anything-- save that clinging scent-- once again.  As he turned on the taps at the sink and began to wash his hands, she snatched up and began to peel the orange, snarling, "Hubris, Mosely!  You sadistic old brute.  Treating your clan head this way."

"Mm?  Exactly the way she begs for?"

Laughing, she backhanded Mosely’s slender hip with a snort and shared a few orange wedges with him.  She finished hers quickly, then she grabbed letterhead and a tack to hold things up.  Quill to the ready, she made a few swift, stern words, her signature, followed by a quick rifling in the desk, and she was gone.  Her playful husband just stood there, eating the slices as she left, a soft smile on his face.

After all, the anticipation was half the point, now wasn't it?


> Chapter 3 - Internal Auditing With a Twist
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The room was dark, and a currently irritating combination of stuffy and yet far too cold.  From her  niche behind a half-forgotten row of filing cabinets, Juicy glared at the rows of cleaning and office supplies, both the standard and the idiosyncratic as a flush traveled down from her cheeks to the top of her voluminous cleavage.  For the thirtieth time, she reminded herself that it was her niche - by right of majority stock ownership.  Her niche, in her building, filled mainly with her clan.  In which she was currently crouching awkwardly, completely naked right down to and including her shaved, pierced cunt.  Yes, I’m finding myself quite reassuring now.

She’d left the office feeling full of her pride of position and luxuriating in the delight of their shared mischievous minds.  All along the way, though, she’d made increasingly furtive use of the old never-let-them-see-you-sweat techniques her mother had drilled into her.  Specifically, observing without seeming to shift her gaze.  She’d been ever-increasingly certain someone would detect the nigh-heat levels of sexual scent steaming off her along the way.

Her eyes flicked back and forth, retracing her steps in her mind as she shivered.  Still waiting.  How she'd made it without even a strange look, she didn't know.  Every passing pulse of life energy pushed her thoughts further to the frantic.  Am I entirely certain that, "Review of internal audits, do not enter on pain of summary firing, yes, this means family members too!" is sufficient?  Am I certain that no one noticed… me… on the walk over?  Maybe it had just been Juicy's imagination, but on the way over and even more when tacking the note in place, well…  She'd felt like the pleasured fragrance of her well-teased cunt was even stronger than after climaxing over and over again on Mosley's mouth in the morning.  Damn Mosely for teaching me how to sense earthpulse and earthpower actively anyway!

“Bah,” she grunted.  She shifted around, getting a more comfortable arrangement of her ridiculously curvy legs.  Sighing with increased comfort, Juicy smirked at herself.  Settling her nerves down, she reflexively ran her fingers through her well-styled mane.  Calming; nonetheless, her stomach clenched and the situation ran through her mind yet again.  She shivered, her wildly, widely curving body jiggling with a sensation that had nothing to do with the cold.  You're too old for second-guessing yourself, filly, she told herself.  Of course, I'm also too mature enough to be sitting completely naked in my own personal floor's janitorial closet, hidden just slightly away from view if the door opens!

Hidden was … perhaps a kind word.  She was just too big for even the modestly sized closet to conceal her great triple-Z’s completely. Her left nip and areola were definitely puffing out far enough to be seen, even with her back to the wall, and as for other senses-- well.  The shivering thrill of the sheer uncouth naughtiness of it all redoubled the lubricant flow that had been tidily disposed of earlier. 

Add that to how the cool air on her bare and damp skin combined with her damnably persistent nipples in their screaming to the pleasure centers of her brain, and the result was another Mosely Mess.  She reminded herself, It is, of course, all his blasted fault.  Where is my stallion?  The smell of her roaring need and unquenched desire alone was everywhere in the dark little room, and she muzzily wondered if she needed to spend more on ventilation.  Every so often, it was simply too much, and she bit down on her lower lip, stifling a groaning gasp.

Her toes curled despite her best attempts to keep her body calm, and she knocked her head (lightly!) against the cabinet.  Nostrils flaring, and feet wriggling under the plushness of her thighs, Juicy looked up and glared at one of the vents.  None of her employees would be passing out from fumes.  Not while she had the money to throw at it, anyway!

Of course, the fumes in question right now, well, were her.  Her musk, to be precise.  She was intensely aware of how it filled the small room and seemed to infuse her very hide.  Needless to say, the situation turned her on fantastically, and not just from the feedback cycle of her cunt’s gushing demands.  No, the facts of the situation stimulated her like her own most intimate touches.  As though her scent and her mind were masturbating her while her hands clutched tightly to the cabinet.

In order to hide most of her body and yet still keep a view of the door, she had to cram her enormous rack up against a cold metal free-standing cabinet.  The resultant smish expanded to fill the corner created where the cabinet rested against the wall-- on just the one side.  On the other, the huge press and expansion of her glorious rack plushly spread so far off the one side, her areola outright showed!

Look just a little down and even in the dark, you'd know who it was for certain.  Juicy's well-rounded and orange-slice marked flank was so broad and curved that it did its best to remind the world that she was on display.  An onlooker might not see all of the slices, but did one really have to?

Her fingers curled around the metal obstruction, clenching corners and rubbing against cold weight.  She exhaled, settling herself back on her haunches and leaning against the wall.  The unmistakable action of her lungs set her right nipple dragging with a sensuous roughness against the cold metal.  

On display, yes.  For just one pony.  One dear, frustrating stallion deliberately making her wait.  Juicy growled lightly, and shifted her seat to a crouch, pressing her feet at the floor.  Powerful quadriceps flexed, making the perky padding above quiver.  For a moment, she debated charging him on entrance.  She would certainly show no mercy to virtually anyone else who showed up past that -- note.

Suddenly, a sound, and a flare of earthpower, towards the entrance.  She ran a her tongue over her suddenly dry lips, thinking, Not loud, so not a hyper; not a lot of earthpower, but he cloaks...  Her ears rotated and her eyes twitched up.  The door creaked open.  She held her breath, cramming as much as she could into the juncture of cabinet and wall, and-- there, yes.  The light of the corridor outlined her Mosley's tall form, glittering in his leafsilk hair.  She quivered with relief as he stepped in, closed and locked the lock, and activated one of her "emergency meeting" spell crystals.  The ones with the extra sound and scent locks too.

Her mind obsessed on trivialities, even as she leered at her husband, appreciating the welcome view.  They're usually for business.  Just because sometimes that business is pleasure, doesn't mean I misspent clan funds on this.

Her legs tensed involuntarily and pushing her sinuously shifting body up along the cold steel.  Her wonderful, delightful, cruel and deliciously wicked stud had finally arrived, and she was going to either be cumming on him or murdering him shortly.  Juicy didn't particularly feel guilt at the idea of using the crystal.  She just filed the knowledge away.  For now, she just stared at Mosley, deliciously outlined in his well-tailored robes.

Her hips thrust forward, her knees ducked down and she bent almost far enough to press tits and twat both against the cool corner of the cabinet.  "Oooohh," she moaned.  Couldn't help it, not really, and certainly didn’t want to.  No matter how often she got to see him, his body always got to her.  As he flicked on the dim lighting of the closet and stepped out of his robe and the few concessions to Manehattan weather underneath, it reminded her again of all of her marital and amatory blessings. 

Nerves melted away and she licked her chops.  Her impossibly vast hips twisted again, shaking her prodigious ass in a slow wriggle under her flicking tail as she anticipated his seductive efforts.  Her drenched thighs parted, toes curling against the floor as she subconsciously shifted her half-crouch to a kneel.  Her eyes positively danced as she took in her husband’s form.  She loved his whipcord toned body, his constant work out in the fields and what little local wilderness remained kept him busy enough to maintain a tightly toned body.

He stretched, resting his arms against his toned rear, showing off a slender but powerful frame that reminded her of her vaguely remembered grandfather.  Before he'd taken his trip to the Summerlands, he had never given up on his time as a blacksmith, despite the rising fortunes of the Orange family.  A gentle and quiet source of strength for clan and family, he'd kept in wonderful shape, efficient muscles that she knew her granny had appreciated, my yes.

Mosely turned around to face towards her, that long, confidant smile on his muzzle.  It widened into a smirk as he saw her, and obscenely jutted his hips forward.  “Why, hello, dearest,” he said with a wicked laugh,  “Fancy running into you here!”  Her breath caught; there, barely clothed or contained, there was that precious glory of his.  Of theirs; her mother had rather salaciously called it a new treasure of the clan at their wedding.  Typical of the stud, he’d just given a smug look and agreed.  If she never received another anniversary present from him again, if he never enchanted her body for anything other than taking in that beautiful monster, she'd be very, very happy nonetheless. 

Well, still.  It didn’t do to permit him airs just because he was damn well going to be dominating the daylights out of her.  She snarled at him,  “Gah.  Finally, you bastard,” but it didn’t have her usual bite.  Just looking at him drove all thoughts of unwelcome visitors or suspicious life-energy away.  Her core clenched, her abs tensing and then going weak at the sight.  Juicy slid down forward, propping a hand to hold herself up from the floor.  The scrape slid her slightly abused nipples across the chilly metal, pumping her milk out all over the cabinet as she watched him pull out his gargantuan cock from the custom-made sleeve that kept it from getting too much in his way-- and from reducing any mare below a Kinsneigh six to following him like a puppy.

She pushed herself back up to a hungry crouch.  Her heavy curves bounced and flounced wildly, her stiff nipples whipping around as if ready to make for him on her behalf.  She cleared her throat and growled at him, nostrils flaring and her tail flicking strands back and forth over her naked arse.  All for show, and she knew it; here was her lewd and lusty dom, her kept consort.  She reveled in the lewd and uncivilized majesty of it all, thinking, And I am his proud bitch, as often as I can, for all he’s my loyal stud and advisor, else.

His head tilted as she growled, his hand already rapidly stroking the massive pipe of his massive forty-two inch member.  Eyes narrowed, focusing on her and fixing her with a heated glare of his own.  Yes, she thought.  I’ve brought the animal out in my urbane stallion.  Excellent.  His body moved swiftly, exercise-ball sized nuts bouncing and bobbling free.  

Juicy felt a brief quiver in her heart as another earthpulse stopped to look at the secured door.  It was washed away immediately by the rush from her loins.  Not just the thrill of soon-to-be fucking so close to others, no.  But the thrill of her stud.

A pleasured grunt escaped his lips as he turned, his glorious curl of massive male meat shifting and stiffening out straight at her.  As it bounced and wobbled, she half-imagined that it beckoned her forward.  She struggled rapidly to her feet, following that wordless call even before Mosely added a conscious gesture with his hand.  Sight and lust and a sweetly thick scent of him combined, grabbing her by every primal urge beneath her Manehattanite veneer as well.  The order alone might have provoked a savage teasing from her-- but that gorgeous cock!

Her fingers clenched on air as she lusted to grab that lovely pole.  She could feel the hot veins against her projected grip, memory becoming almost physical just from the proximity and desire.  It already dripped and throbbed sinfully as she wriggled and wobbled up and forward, her breasts bobbing almost independently of her and her shaking, shuddering rump.  His wild breathing grew heavier, his heaving hips shaking his stiffening package about.  Have I become a unicorn, she thought, to turn my will into reality?  As they closed with each other, the flare of that magnificent stallionhood rapidly leaked his scrumptious lubricant as though she was already worshipping it.  Once the first few splatters of his deliciously musky pre splattered to the floor, only decades of hard wrought dignity and will stopped her from stumbling right back down to the ground to lap it up.

Not without being commanded do so.  We do keep the floor clean in here, after all…





Green Earth and Red Blood, Juicy! Mosely thought as he stared at the atavistic mare lurching lustfully at him.  I thought I was supposed to be the nature-channeller!

It was a wonder he hadn’t cum in his robes, discipline of the Green and Red or not.  That enticing, amazing musk had hit him like a thunderbolt the moment he’d walked in.  Stunned by her, now, he thought, Your scent, dear Juicy, is all the sweeter for that tremble of aroused nervousness mixed with enraged greed, my perfectionistic darling.  Mosley smiled broadly, looking at the most beautiful sight in the world.  His naked wife, more glorious, he was certain, than Celestia outlined by the sun.  And the love and lust of it all the greater that I didn't even have to suggest you strip...

She ran up to him, scrumptiously nigh-divine curves all a-jiggle.  For the love of her and her love of drama, he forced his awe down and chuckled slightly.  He put on his best show for her; his knee-length balls bounced with virile slaps against his thighs as he moved to meet her.  Leading the march, the still-not-quite-hard heft of his horsecock bobbed hot and pulsing between them. 

"May I have this dance?" he asked softly, and twirled her around in his arms.  No fool, he kept one hand firmly on-- and in-- the lushness of her rump, pushing a deep dimple into the taut flesh, still so perky for all its zaftig heft.  Taking prime advantage, he leaned across to whisper in her ear, squeezing all the while.  "Why, I feel energetic enough to dance until our dinner still."

Swat!  Much as he’d expected, she’d grabbed his hips and swatted one.  After which she had of course promptly trailed the fingers of both hands forward to the thick, throbbing base of his obscenely massive member.  "Cruel stud as well as wasteful," Juicy nickered affectionately, and licked his right shoulder.  "As much as I'd love to tarry and skip and pick daisies for tea,” she said,” we are still naked in the closet adjacent to my office.”  Her eyes flared so hot he wondered that his robe wasn’t on fire.  “Do you know how many ponies and no few griffons, donkeys, and minotaurs work here?" she hissed.  Not that either found that exactly a downside… so long as they were careful, and quick.

Fingers pressed further into the lush embrace of her fat hips, the perkiness disturbed and rolling back to almost close over his hands.  Smiling broadly, he gathered her closely into his embrace.  resting the huge weight of his seven inch diameter member on her luscious left hip.  Juicy smirked and leaned down to that side, grinding the underside of her giant breasts against it despite the perkiness that her huge rack still held.  Some advantages remained to size, it seemed.

Mosely laughed quietly, and kissed her skillfully styled mane.  He took a moment, flaring his nostrils for a deep inhalation of still more of her scent.  Kissing her again, this time on the lips, he said, "I'll make sure we're completely clean when we're done."  His eyes widened slightly as a fresh wave of her arousal played exquisite havoc with his self control, and he stroked his hand  possessively over her well-padded body.  "Do you remember what we did that first time when this was all still your mother's?" he asked softly, his hands kneading the lovely plumpness all over her.  "You were so certain her earthsense would be able to tell if my seed was in you," he teased.

She slapped his bare chest lightly, pleased by taut thuds.  "I take it that my lord has some bit of seed-wasting decadence to order me into," she purred.  Inwardly, Mosely laughed, and couldn’t help a smirk as she affected a Canterlot drawl over her delightful Manehattan accent.  As though either of us were some lackwitted unicorn, he thought, content to sit on traditional rumps in traditional seats.  Speaking of rumps, though…

He took to hers in an instant, loving her sudden jump and bobble against his naked frame.  His hand  repeatedly swatted with gentle sternness over her pale flanks.  Squeaks and growls alternated from her throat as he paddled her.   He replied with low whicker of appreciation as her enormous rack slammed up and down, and her juicy hips wobbled-- especially the one cushioning the mass of his prick!  Each time he spanked her, the delighted hiss and intake of air proved even more salutorious than the mouth-watering jiggle of her hind end.  "As the local fertility archdruid around here," he hammed up, "I rather think I know best about how pony cum is best used or not, mmm?"

Agreement came with her arms seizing about his waist.  Ever the tactician, she pressed one foot forward between his so she could grind her lush thigh against his knee-length sack.  Licking her lips, she nipped at his collarbone with a deliciously outré savagery and gasped.  Juicy groaned out a loud, "Oooh," turned to give him better access to the soft, supple curves.  After just enjoying the sensation for a bit, she wriggled thrice.  Mercilessly, she teased back, tail flagging to show off the spectacular hind end he'd been lovingly "abusing."  He sighed happily, and spanked her a few more times, the sheer feminine musk of her pussy flooding the cramped closet.

Her reply was eager, the light in her eyes as predatory as a griffon’s.  Still licking her lips and letting out soft sighs, Juicy said, "I suppose I must concur, my lord; if at the most reluctantly.”  He knew the unspoken coda: because she wanted him balls deep in her twenty-four/seven, and would use him as her personal throne and transportation if she could get away with it.   All the while expecting him to keep ratcheting up his dom game on her, too.

A slight smile twisted its way across his lips, and he kissed her sweat-drenched forehead.  He paused in his meandering affection to smooth the creases of her slight disappointment away from the edges of her eyes with his thumb.  Not that I will let the seed go to waste anyway, my dear, he thought.  I already know just where I'd like to see another fresh infusion of squish on you, even if it's only temporary. Outwardly, Mosely said nothing yet.  After all, he was certain that the massive throb of his member’s gigantic veins against Juicy’s ribs giving her quite the golden rhetoric on his part.

She spoke to him with body and scent as well.  Her body communicated in the smallest gesture or the largest motion, from the squirm of her toes to the brush of that addictingly curvy roll of her hyper-hourglass body against him.  He wasn’t quite sure where in the metaphor her fat, splurting nipples counted as they left milky traces over his chest.  Perhaps shouting.  Juicy's wriggles ultimately spoke of the growth of twinned excitement floor through the pair of them, just like the vast pulse of his vaster shaft did along her side.  

Their pheromones were old friends; as she lusted, so did he.  Thence, the need to rut rushed to the surface, growling at his instincts from deep within his oversized testes.  As he teased her and his arousal filled the air around them-- especially here-- her need to be filled clamored to the top in turn.  And he intended to provoke and prod right along those lines, hoping that the time they got together in exchange would be worth the wait.

He’d added a slight casting of primal dread to the note; though he didn’t tell her.  She trusted him to take care of matters at the boundaries, after all.  Both of them would appreciate her jerks of nervousness with every hall footfall, with every new pulse of life surrounding them.  Most enjoyable.

Still.  Best to be about this, and quick, he thought.  Touching his nose to hers, he snorted out a light clankiss.  As she nickered back at him, he slid his fingers along her juicy, lickable hips with a squeezing caress.  “Bide a moment, love,” he told her, and lifted a hand to pull his colossal cock up.  As a last bit of devilishness, he bounced it and its musk across the soft bounce of her giant breasts.  The mere sensation of giant cock meeting massive melons stunned his poor Juicy for the moment.  In the aftermath of his shaft’s passing, he turned and flicked his tail as he left her.

While Juicy shook her head clear of his daring little ploy-- and managed to goose him a good one, he did so love his spunky maretriarch-- he moved fast to a corner.  Spurning luxuries for the moment, he pulled over a solid-enough looking barrel.  Hence, he made a virtue of viceful necessity, sending the weaker energies of his spilt lube into the barrel.  Thereby a slightish container of supplies would be better able to support his weight.  He turned again, stepping over the barrel to widen his stance and perhaps show off the magnificent weight of his mighty balls slightly more than necessary.

Facing her again, he sat, sack folding fully over the front of the barrel while his feet and balls rested on the floor.  Fully erect, his massive three-and-a-half feet of stallion cock bobbed and weaved in Juicy’s direction.  That same lewd fire sparked in her eyes as she let out a long moan, licking from one edge of her mouth to the other, and back again for good measure.  He gave her another arrogant smile and said, "No more cream yet, m'dear.”  Teasing, he grinned and emphasized, “Like the first time, I said.  Besides, you were too afraid to--"

Just the right choice of words.  She stalked towards him, all the huge shake and wobble of her titanic tits preceding her.  For all that, Mosely knew that he taunted a warmare down to her very soul who’d have been in the van in the conquests of old, and deliberately so.  There were muscles under that hourglass padding-- for all their exertions were currently mostly shimmying her hips like a broodmare in heat.  "Too afraid, was I?" Juicy growled, and grabbed her beloved's beloved oversized shaft in both hands.

He groaned, leaning back and pumping up into her expert, squeezing grip.  All the while, she growled fiercely at him, "Let's get you good slicked up and we can see how 'afraid' I am now, not that I was ever afraid!  I just had concerns about my clothing the rest of the day!"  She started at the top, of course, peppering the broad flare with kisses.  

Juicy loved at it, aggressively worshiped the heft of stallion meat, rubbing and squeezing the sensitive crown with her supple fingers.  It wasn't long before she drove more than just moans and gasps out of him, the pulse of his veins and the squeezing motion of lube production quite visible along the massive length.  Soon enough, giant beads and drops of precum formed at the tip for her to aggressively rub and caress down the hot, throbbing length.

Mosley laughed softly and gestured regally with his fingers, provoking fire in her eyes.  "I suppose we each have our own memories.  Some of your milk too, my dear," he purred, settling both hands down at the flagpole-like base of his prick, idly stroking to assist in her ardor.  He gritted his teeth and grunted, his heavy balls growing heavier, bulging against the floor.

The fresh wave of his spicy musk hit Juicy, and she gasped, nickering and chest heaving.  He could see the flash and flick of her amber tail trying to flag harder out to the side before she followed through with his lewd command.  He bit his lip, then let go of decorum and whinnyed at her as she carefully hefted her left super-boob up high to squeeze and fondle.

Instinctively, Mosely’s own hands came up swiftly to massage and fondle the heavy melon from beneath.  As their purposes met, so did their eyes; indeed, even their smirks matched.  He could smell, even over their already mingled pheromones, the sudden gush of pleasured femmejuices rushing from his wife's slit at the intake of sensations from her mega-teat.  Not that he was spared; his own pre-production redoubled and then tripled, splurting into the air with more volume than lesser stallions or futas might orgasm.  It kept squirting, the slick precum flying everywhere in response to their mutual molestation of his massive tool, rubbing lube and milk alike into the elongated shaft.

He groaned as pleasure flooded his senses, rolling up and down his well-tended-to tool.  He smiled up at his Juicy hazily for a moment.  Then, he reached up to tangle his fingers in her mane and pull her head down to meet just shy of lips to lips.  "Here's what you're going to do," he whispered, a quiet sternness rumbling over his own excitement.  "You're going to step across my shaft, bringing it up into that deliciously, almost sinfully soft padding over your gorgeous thighs.  But I want that lovely rack up close in my face, dear one; I want to taste your milk again.  So I want… you… close," he said with an almost, but not quite menacing growl.  Then he leaned in further, right by her ear, "And because I want to feel your cheeks squeezing my prick, too."

Her fingers reached around to grab and squeeze at his shoulders, curling against the lithe muscles.  Dismayed or cowed she was not.  Indeed, panting or no, she smirked arrogantly again, sweat dripping down her neck and into the vast canyon of her cleavage.  

A life pulsed near the door, and she shuddered for a moment.  Then her eyes opened, and she discarded her head’s fears for the adrenaline surge that Mosely knew matched the fresh wave of sweet honey between her thighs.  Moaning, she gasped out, "My love, if you wanted to add my slickness to the rest, you simply had to say!" 

With her pussy drooling, Juicy  pressed the enormously fat cock down in front of her in a lewd dip, leaving a splatter of lubricant across the soft pudge of her belly, then, cooing, let the pre coat her bared mound.  She groaned and he half-roared in a sudden surge of pleasure, the precum splattering out rapidly as she ground the hot nethers over his massive member, pushing it between her soft thighs and further, further back.

Slipping his hands back down along her sides, then up and under each mighty mammary, Mosley lifted up one of her enormous breasts.  He always marveled at the sheer, sensuous weight of the lovely pair.  He didn't know how a normal unicorn or pegasus would have been able to handle these wondrous knockers, either on, or lifting, like he.  Delicious, always delicious, my Juicy, and this is more than fifty three pounds of pure, succulent tit to the one alone!  I am, as ever, a lucky stallion.

 "Mmm, that's it, dear," he said aloud and then nuzzled the soft, sloshy mass of Juicy’s gigantic ZZZ-cup breast.  He played with it, fingers pressing in against the soft flesh whilst he hungrily kissed and slurped at the same.  "Get the head up past your rump so I spray into the air.  Yes, don't worry about the muss and mess, my love.  I'll take care of it, just like I'm taking care of you."  His other hand worked up along the other voluminous mammary, unwilling to leave either of his wife’s magnificent breasts alone for long.

The smirk on her face told Mosely what was coming.  This part was hers, all hers as she made love to his cock but even more to him, by vision and mind.  With exquisite skill and even more exquisite ardor, she threw her all at him.  Everything that made her a superior clanmother, CEO, and warmare was in every sensuous motion, and she left nothing behind as she applied herself. 

She stroked her hands up and down over the front of her thighs, wriggling back and forth.  Playing the waggle for all it was worth, she cocked first the left hip, then the right at him, and shimmied deliciously.  The shimmy and waggle and her own freed lust resulted in a clench that rubbed her luxurious hide marvelously all over his needy prick.  Her plush thighs had no droop at all, just curvy perkiness, but the shift of her muscles beneath gave even his member a rolling, claiming expanse of pleasure up and down the throbbing, veiny skin. 

Juicy groaned, sliding forward along his shaft.  The warmth of her thighs pressed in around his oversized cock as her hands squeezed and fondled it into position.  She leaned forward, settling the mass of her giant breast against his face, covering it in warmth.  “Mine,” she whispered as her hands seized the base for a simple grasp of their own, just briefly.

With his face pressed against her overwhelming knocker, he smiled tenderly, kissing it repeatedly.  Both of Mosely’s hands combined to adore the proffered monument to feminine excess.  This was his worship for her and her form now, letting the far weight jiggle free for the moment.  Tenderly, knowing that every inch of her was the pulse of the Green and the pleasured cry of the Red, he kneaded fresh waves of sensation into the giant breast.

Juicy blessed his crusade of pleasure with constant fresh cries of need from her throat.  Up and up, he pulled the weighty teat to his eager lips and sucked.  His own precum began to squirt as she kept pulling his enormous rod up as well.  Eagerly, she shifted her stance to better raise her heavy hooters at his head and squish her luscious rump down around his fat pole.

He thrust, rocking his hips forward to meet the shake and bounce of her broad butt.  Her core rippled and fluttered; she cried out, loud and triumphant.  In that moment, the satisfied leer on her face the only warning as she squeezed in fast, little pumps from ass to thighs, working his rod hard.  The wide expanse of his flare made luscious waves in the crack of her squishy ass, pushing the jiggly, pert flesh out, only to have it press back in along the broad girth with a bouncy wobble.

Every so often, a nearby lifesign passed by.  Most, Juicy ignored, but every time someone stopped-- to read the note?  Or considering trying the door, perhaps.  Every time the indelible mark of ‘pony’ hesitated by the warded door, he felt a renewed shudder run the length of her entire body, a fresh wave of her honey pouring like a waterfall over his oversized, throbbing stallionhood.  Their eyes would meet, and he would give her a cocky grin.

The reward was purest Elysium.  Renewed shudders became redoubled clenching became faster squirming became sheer sensation.  The effect, slipping over lube and milk slickened skin, unleashed an almost insane amount of pleasure rippling down his rod to shoot straight up his spine; even slightest squeeze from Juicy left him gasping, his prick answering in a fresh shower of pre from the fat tip.

Taking his time to adjust to the constant sliding, rubbing embrace of her lush body, Mosely let himself move into a rocking gait in his seat, huge nuts thudding against the wood.  As her cries of ecstasy filled his ears, he groaned out to cover a short phrase.  The keyed up druidic energies began a quiet ritual with mischievous intent, one that she’d approve of the end.  But not the middle.  Not badly enough to truly wish to stop, but…

Submissive in-- ah-- bed-- perhaps, she certainly wasn't down in subspace at the moment; it was rare that he was able to take his lovely, pushy mare any further than a gentle buzz.  Appreciate the thought, yes, he was certain, but I'd  earn the dopeslap I'd be conjuring it up, as it were, if I gave my darling a midday subspace persona nap.  That would leave our dear Orange Slice in charge, and then I'd have wife and daughter alike gunning for me.  He was quite certain that the result would be fine, but he didn't want to give Juicy too much time to push herself into a rage, though, and so, just lightly, he nipped at her exquisitely sensitive left nipple.

The effect certainly grabbed her attention.  She squealed once more and ground the squishy expanse of her mighty breast up to and around Mosely’s face.  Not even with her hands; instead, she crossed her arms under her giant rack to help better heft the whole assemblage at once.  The resulting tsunami of milk-laden teat jogged hard into his face, just as she bore down on his proud prick.  His gift had been designed to leave her breasts feeling pleasure through lactation, not tenderness-- and that meant a gentle little tug of the teeth could pull her entire focus down to that point.  Which left his hands free!  Free to cling on to her immensely curving haunches for dear life, that is.

He continued to nurse and tease, first at the one nipple, and then the other, as her focus narrowed to her breasts and his cock.  Their position let her wriggle and hold her breasts up for him, to him, all but braining him with her passion to grind the heavy mounds against his face.  She warmly embraced the seven-inch-thick tool with her tight-packed thigh fat and rump, shimmying up and down the top of the length as though she was dancing with him in a club.  

Juicy’s cock-hungry pussy, as promised, continued to join his cumslit in showering along the length of the pleasured mass with lubricant.  Each new shake and each new squeeze brought another cry from her, always the same thing: his name.  She seemed simply obsessed with chanting it in constant whinnies while her toes curled and scraped on the floor.

With a swift heft of her folded arms, she shoved her amazingly oversized breasts up even higher for him to switch from breast to breast.  As she did, he hungrily drank down the warm, creamy milk, using his teeth and tongue to tease her areolae and nipples in between slurps.  Since Juicy was handling the upwards situation, as it were, Mosely felt free to stroke his hands out around the blossoming rack enveloping his head, expertly fondling his way through the soft, sensitive expanse.  He was instantly rewarded threefold; the rush of femme juices down his prick, the tightening pump and push of her lush, squishy thighs and lusher, squishier rump, and that most lovely of sounds-- Juicy cumming, gasping and moaning as she lost her hold on her dignity and simply threw herself into her climax.

And against him, against the solid wall of his earth pony strength, holding her in her thrashing, spasming orgasm.  "Music to my ears, dearest," Mosely whispered before once more stroking his teeth lightly over Juicy's milk-splurting nip.  He teased his hands further over her quivering hide.  No matter how long they were together, each erotic exploration was always delicious.  Talented fingers stroked her sides and sank his into the taut, yet giving expanse of her hips, squeezing and fondling with abandon of his own.  He began to bounce his thighs against hers, and against his ever-swelling, ever tightening nuts  Each new swing was used to prod Juicy to further speed and further indulgence whilst his massive member prodded deep into the soft expanses being rubbed against it.

He took her over the edge into release again, her chant of his name devolving into a strong warmare’s uluation of triumph as ecstasy crashed through every inch of her.  His hands roamed everywhere; not at random, but at loving play.  He knew her body like they knew their orchards; every branch and every root in turn.  Soon, he had her squawling and squirming in a wild ride atop his massive member, her thighs rubbing seemingly endless supplies of well-padded hide to grip and stroke his tool.  The pleasure rapidly had her voice rasping from the cries of renewed orgasm after renewed orgasm.  He ran his fingers into her cushy curves yet again, squooshing and letting the expansive, indulgent flesh just roll through his grip.

Soon, though, his own undeniable response built towards a carnal explosion.  Cum filled his seminal vesicles, sperm swelling and gurgling in his weighty nuts.  Juicy felt it, too, and she seemed determined to push him over as fast as possible, the better to use her soft lushness to squeeze out every drop of his virile jizz.  And don't I have an idea for what to do with it, my lovely, he thought.  The idea broadened his grin all the further as he continuously switched breasts to heavily suckle at the other, filling his belly with her unlimited supply of rich, warm milk.

His wife bobbed up and down rapidly on the balls of her feet.  The rapid motion bounced her mammoth mammaries against his thirsty lips, jiggling generous thigh and rump flesh against his throbbing tool.  All in pursuit of her obscene goal, the push it to that final bulge and climax.  Swiftly enough, not even the sensed presence of other ponies passing just outside the door could do anything to distract her desperate, wanton lust for his orgasm.  The scent of him grew heady in the room, overpowering even her enchanting musk.  "Mosely!" Juicy cried out as her sloshing tits thrashed about wildly.  "My lord!  Please cum, my dearest!  Please!"

Scooping his legs around to brace them both, his arms squeezed her tight, their huge sexual expanses virtually third and fourth ponies’ worth of mass in the mix.  He leaned back to wink up at her, sweat streaming from his forehead.  Mosely groaned, "And after such a lovely… ahnnn… invitation… I can't help…"  There, it was coming, now.

He threw back his head, gasping out her name one final time as his immense balls swelled further.  Each musky orb was filled and overfilled with roiling seed and a huge bulge began to travel up his length.  The sheer mass of expansion for his climax pressed so deep into Juicy's thunder thighs that she had to spread them, not merely let them give way to his titanic cock.  While she squealed for more yet again, pressing her breast closer to his face in wordless begging for continued milking, then, he came at last.  The gurgling spray soon filled the air-- and oddly, seemed not to splatter.

He came and came and came, his positively gargantuan balls actually having enough time to double up and renew production before he could even stop spooging!  The soft lushness of her thighs gripped around his bulging stallionhood, her jiggly rump massaged beneath the head.  That constant stimulation just kept him cumming-- but none of it seemed to go anywhere but "out."  Juicy was too focused on feeding him her milk to notice at first.  As the sweet embrace of her thighs kneaded and her lushly apportioned ass squeezed, his orgasm was constant, though, pouring gallons after gallons of steaming, sloshing seed out-- where?

Gasping, he kept his concentration up; sex magic being a specialty, but the moment-- ah, the moment was important.  Then, he saw Juicy’s climax start to fade and her focus renew.  Eyes glittering, he thought, There we go.  As her brow furrowed, obviously wondering what shenanigans her husband was up to this time, Mosely began to flick the earthpower lightly through his hand.  When she opened her mouth to inquire, he bent the sticky, connecting flow.  With a sudden gush not unlike when he'd first cummed it out, the still-hot seed that he'd been capturing in a bubble of its own fertility magic rushed around and went straight for her lips in a virile spray.

Distraction achieved.  Her hands came up to her cheeks even as she stretched them wide, guzzling down as much of the thick, virile semen as she could.  Her fingers fell back and away and she began to shimmy over his super-shaft once again.  This time there was no calculation; she moved in pure reaction to her greed for his seed.  

Mosely chuckled weakly,, and helped his hands into the squishiness of her enormous rack again.  With a contented rumble, he gently tilted up her left breast and pressed the proud, thick nub to his lips again.  As he drank deeply of her sweet, ever-flowing milk, he watched her hungrily gulp down all he could give.  She didn't seem to object, thankfully, though he remained polite enough to funnel his even-thicker-than-usual wad down her lips.  As much as I do adore seeing darling Juicy's face with rivers of my spunk rolling over it, I did promise to keep things clean.

That look of utter gustatorial and sexual fulfillment fascinated him, as always.  Indeed, eventually, he had to stop drinking from her just to watch her expression.  He adored the look of her, this meal she preferred above the best Prench creations, sucking it all down with no thought of poise.  He loved it, the twist of gushing, gurgling cum flooding over his wife's taste buds, filling her throat, the scent everywhere.  She'd told him that sometimes his taste was so strong she couldn't even see anything; instead, her other senses just filled in an endless sloshing stream of delicious white.  For now, though, when they left their quaint little trip down Memory Lover's Lane, she would go back to being a captain of agri-industry, and he her quiet adviser.  Respect fed love like soil nourished plants.

With his own hunger satiated, he shifted back, tilting his hips to slowly pump himself through the softness of her lickable thighs.  His giant shaft ground past the heat of her still-cumming twat, and hotdogged her vastly curving tush from below.  Amazing as her full body in climax and cum-quaffing could be, he had at least one final step on his agenda for his dear Juicy.

After all, he was so close to going over again himself.  There were benefits to the position of fertility archdruid.

It didn't take long.  As Mosley funneled more and more of his minutes-long climax up, around, and into her throat and down to her rapidly filling belly, he came again.  As it hit, she suddenly began to gurgle in shock and renewed her climax from the sheer erotic potency of it all.  As she sucked at the whitewater river of his stallion seed,  he increased the speed of his renewed orgasm's outward and levitating flow.  Soon, it matched the maximum safe speed for making his dear wife guzzle it all down to swish and splash in her stretchy stomach.  Naked, trembling, sweat pouring over her body, her feet spreading as she sank against the girth of his spasming shaft-- there.  Her belly.   A cute pudge, definitely, but-- for much the same reason as their veritable horde of children-- he did so like occasionally getting a little more bounce to her ounce.

Juicy tried to protest at this latest innovation, gargling around the thick and heady river of his potent cum.  He didn't judge it was serious enough to stop; she hadn't given him the call-off sign, to be instantly obeyed, but it was time to slow and entice. To prevent things from getting too serious with his hot-tempered wife, he leaned across her gurgling belly.  Putting an ear against her newly resplendent pudge and he moaned in delight at the sound of his seed stretching and distending her stomach's contours into a smooth roundness.  His druidic control of the semen flow slowed the tempest, just a little. "If you don't stop complaining," he said with a smirk, "I'm going to teleport the rest completely away.

And I will, too; only way to keep both promises.  That said...

Mosely could almost feel the indignancy add to the sloshing swell.  He knew his Juicy, and thought, She won't find that solution appropriate, at all!  Indeed, he suspected it had her sucking all the harder at the waterfall of his seed, her cheeks swiftly switching from chipmunk-bulging with his seed to hollowing in indignant suction just to drain it all down.

The end result was Juicy’s not-quite hyper strength, her magnificent earth pony warmare heritage put to the test, with her enormous seed-bloated stomach outmassing her entire rack.  Laughing softly, he released the constraints he'd held into the virile flow.  It didn't take her too long, and then she crammed her now rather plump and distinctly Juicy belly against his head.  "Brute!  Cad!" she called him, and he just kept grinning, feeling the squishy warmth of her overstuffed belly.  As she went on, he of course listened to her, but also to the layers of his rich, profuse cum stir and roll inside of her.  "I've a huge slate of meetings for the rest of the day, you insufferable stud!"

Kisses were Mosely's first response, lightly meeting her lips.  Breaking the kiss, he softly said, "I'd never endanger the clan, love; I am ever your servant."  The kiss, and more the simple truth of the promise, were enough to calm her somewhat.  He went on, "I didn't quite let myself go.  Just grumble a bit too long about lunch-- so much for small portions!-- and the richness of 'quaintly prepared' traditional meals…"  His eyes sparkled.  "It's not like you'd have to fend off accusations you were binging to get that lovely bulge, darling."

"Horrible male.  I don't know why I put up with your unsavory molestations of my person," she sniffed at him, and then lovingly stroked a long fingernail over his lithe chest.  "It's probably because you're unbearably sexy, my lord.  And very nearly as clever as you think you are."  Her lips quirked into a smile and she caressed her other hand over the vast, sloshing mass he'd left in her.  "And I suppose I'd just have to send out my sisters and our daughters to drag you back if I sent you away."

Mosely laughed a bit, and almost propositioned her some more when some loud knocks were heard.  Then, the door rattled loudly.  Suddenly, her hands grabbed hard at his shoulders.  "Surely, no one would risk interrupting a pre-audit…" she said.  The knock-- booms, really-- repeated, and Mosely groaned.

Planting his palm on his muzzle, he replied, "I know one precocious grand niece whose stuffed head grandmamma will be visiting…"

he deep female voice somehow managed to convey a nigh-teenage squeakiness.  The owner called out frantically, "Aunt Juicy!  Aunt Juicy!  I know you're in there, Grand Auntie!  Aunt Applejack said she could make it after all!  My seating plans are in ruins!"

The knocks were getting louder, the wood straining.  The ward was designed to hold off underlings, after all, not survive a battering assault by a panicking Apple Clan hyper mare.  He sighed, and started to rise, Juicy awkwardly hopping off his prick as they scrambled to regain some form of dignity.  "Sometimes, having hyper-sized relatives just isn't worth the trouble," Mosely observed as he tried to pull on his robe  and hide the sleeve.





Thanks to her husband’s overenthusiasm, she had to improvise.  With a cum-gut that beat her mega-melons for volume… combined… there was simply no way she could fit into the same enclosed space as before.  Thus, while Mosely finished pulling on his robes, Juicy pulled out several of the cabinets past their original depth.  Clearly feeling somewhat ridiculous, not to mention unwieldy and far too wobbly for her own good, she sat with a heavy slosh from her distended engorgement.

Mosely gave his best stern shout a try, saying, "Pinova Apple, this is an internal audit.  You should know better than to interfere!"

"It's just corporate things!  This is for the Clan!  The Clanmother is coming!  The Princess Clanmother!"

Fists clenching briefly as he pulled on his garment, he replied, "We're Oranges.  And while you work under our roof, you're bound by our rules!"  Finishing his enrobement, Mosely concentrated and merged his earthpower with the remnants of their lovemaking, clearing the air.

This worked on Pinova about as well as could be expected for the stubborn, stubborn overgrown filly.  Bless her heart, she tried what she thought of as compliments, saying, "That's almost as good as Apples!"  Juicy rolled her eyes, and sent mental daggers towards her dear sister-in-law.  As though the arrogant bully was right next to her, she thought, Dear Clivia, I see your daughter managed to impart to her daughter that neither I nor Applejack will tolerate the same level of disrespect as that you gave young Mac, to the any of the males under the protection and auspice of either family, but honestly, you could have tried to impart some respect for the rest of us.

Juicy found it entirely ridiculous; here she was, a Clanmother herself, the CEO of one of the most powerful non-Apple agribusiness corporations… And she was sitting completely naked in the unfortunately well-ventilated janitor's closet down the hall from her office.  Completely naked and with an overflowing belly bulging full of her randy husband's seed, to the point that it shoved her massive rack high enough to partially obscure her vision.

Cursing all Apples, not excluding her husband as an Orange by marriage, Juicy thought, I suppose it's fortunate enough that Mosely was able to dump our musk out through the ventilation, but I have to sit here and this tile is cold on my ass!  Juicy desperately wished she had a Confectionist-thick tail she could sit on, or indeed, anything except the bare floor.

Mosely sighed, checked back over his shoulder at Juicy, then opened the door very narrowly indeed.  The slight crack revealed a very nervous, very tall intern, her pinkish-orange hide actually trembling.  He prodded her rock hard abdomen and looked up to meet her eyes dead on without giving up an ounce of social status.  Juicy tried not to give an immature (and revealing) giggle as, despite the gap in height, Mosely's presence and irritated practice with dealing with younger annoyances took their toll on Pinova's determination.  "No," he told her abruptly, and stepped forward.

Pinova stood seven feet tall, had muscles like a royal guard, and a manic obsessive-compulsive nature that made one wonder if she'd been switched at birth for a unicorn's child.  She didn't want to follow in the footsteps of her traditionalist mother or neotraditionalist grandmother; she wanted to help move her farm into the Lunar millennium come her inheritance.  Juicy even appreciated the honor that an Apple like Pinova had come looking for an internship with the Oranges to learn the modern economic world.  Mosely and Juicy were absolutely determined not to corral the poor child the way they had Applejack, and for the most part, they felt the investment had been paid back.

Mostly paid back, Juicy thought with a sigh she almost didn’t stifle in time.  She's still an Apple, and while that means dedicated and hard-working, it also includes more than a bit of chauvinism, female or otherwise.  Fortunately, Mosely's been dealing with that nearly all his life.  All of it, really.

Pinova’s nervous yelps would have done many a private in the army proud.  She whined, "But Uncle Mosely!"

"For the last time, young woman.  She sits across from me.  I sit by Juicy.  Don't put your grandmother in arm's reach of her or you'll know what a house fire sounds like when it starts at a dinner table.  Preferably, put her at the other side of the table since your other grand-aunt won't be here to st-"

"Uncle Mosely!"

"Don't interrupt.  You can fix this.  Your aunt loves you, and dotes on you much like she does Winona.  She's not going to ban you from the clan even if she does try to light her aunt on fire.  Now, I need to get back to tending to our clan business, so if you will excuse us…?"

Pinova continued protesting while Mosely closed the door, and whispered to the wood.  An ordinary earth pony, even one with strong tree-ties like an Apple or an Orange, wouldn't have been able to do much with dead wood, let alone so fast.  But Mosely was an archdruid, and one who'd just been performing one of his more… sacred… rites.  The door turned to ironwood, and expanded to anchor itself in the frame.  Even a hyper pony would have a hard time breaking it, but it would open freely for Mosely, and for Juicy.

Juicy growled, and staggered to her feet, her belly sloshing and wobbling.  She snarled, "This is a stupid plan, Mosley!"  To show her displeasure, when retrieving her hidden clothes, she crouched sensibly, rather than bend over or otherwise show off.  That her belly wibbled and jiggled even more than her enormous bosom-- well!  That was also Mosely's fault.

He grinned and replied,  "Just tell them that when Pinova interrupted us, you were so unhappy about having to deal with Clivia that you went back for fourths?  It's not like they're going to accuse you of binge bulging, dear.  Little AJ's positively in another direction."

She considered that.  With a more pleased chuckle, she noted, "Actually, 'pushing yourself' is back in among the Old Nags' Club."  Grinning.  "I think I will brag about my binge bulging, in fact…"  Juicy nickered, her earlier unhappiness swiftly fading.  She did like having all of his rich, thick seed in her belly, the fertility blessings soaking into her curves.  Oh, my, yes, I do, she thought smugly.

Mosely guffawed slightly.  "I remember when the Old Nags were the Grand Dams to you," he teased as he tried to help her re-button her power suit carefully.  "Won't do," he hummed.  "There's a little bit of give, but this is silk… If I cast…"

They argued about the best way to properly make it through the day.  In the end Mosely snuck out of the janitor's closet to grab some spare Harvest Celebration clothes from Juicy's office.  The day went well for the both of them, but the apex, as usual, came at night.

> Chapter 4 - Hot Night, Loving in the City
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day began early, and ended late.  It always did.  It had also ended with Juicy and Mosely with one another; they parted but rarely and only at great need.  They were together, and home, in their broad, comfortable bed.  Broad and comfortable indeed, it could have fit three hypers easily and would probably never see one.  At the moment, she lay contentedly on her back, her enormous cum-bulge belly having only gone down a little bit.  Her hands stroked gently over her massive, swollen stomach.  She toyed with it smugly, squashing her palms into the soft flesh and watching it bulge and shift.

Mosely rested beside her, head propped up on a pillow.  His slow breathing constantly drove the mass of his monstrously erect maleness across the top her pudgy-thick thunder thighs.  The throbbing heat covered her bare mound and jammed up against the nigh-spherical enormity of her still-stuffed belly.  His right arm was beneath her head, cradling it softly.  His left, though, stroked her belly as well, pushing some of the cum-jiggle back against the rolling plush she playfully sloshed around.  He drawled lazily, "You know, the one thing we didn't think of is that you're going to have to have an extra special morning breakfast if you're going to keep up your binge look."

Shifting slightly towards him, she frowned at him, and prodded a light finger into his side.  "This mess was your idea, Mosely," Juicy told him.  "I'm just cleaning up."  She sniffed.  "And whatever do you mean?"

"Unless you want to hear Clivia whining about me 'obviously' not supporting your efforts sufficiently and trying to get you to pull her into the household… again…"

Groaning, Juicy smacked her forehead, and glared at the desk in the corner, right where the last family reunion picture lay in shadows.  She grumped, "Of course, dutiful little Pinova will tell her dear sweet Grandmama."  She glared.  "You just want to wake me up with a sixty-nine and get my throat properly swabbed since you know I won't let you run my eyeshadow before work!"

Mosely laughed the glare off and restlessly began to jerk his hips further forward against her swollen stomach.   As his toes curled in pleasured response, his massive member sent a fresh wave of rich-smelling precum over her giant hip and onto the bed beyond.  He trailed his fingers up from Juicy's core, tracing her massive cum-storage before heading further still.  Smiling, he squeezed and petted her enormous breasts, and lovingly caressed her throat.  He arched an eyebrow and replied, "Well, not just, darling, but it's hardly fair to blame your poor, overworked lord when you get so competitive…"

She sniffed and wriggled juicily back into her comfortable depression in the bed.  The slosh and wobble exceeded even her usually high display of fertile excess, and he groaned, feeling his thick testicles tighten.  Clasping her hands behind her head on her pillows, she smirked at him and the past alike.  Indeed, decades of a born and (repeatedly) bred Manehattanite vanished in the moment, and there was his Juicy as they’d first made love.  As she’d been when they were lounging about on his mother’s farm, sneering about her rivals’ inadequacies.  "Bitch had the nerve to brag about holding a little two footer for a mere minute!"  Her face made a study in lewd pride and amatory satisfaction.

He rolled his eyes, but just quietly leaned closer along her body, enjoying the sight of her in the dim light.  With the overheads off and only the expensive crystal lamps near the bed on minimal luminescence, it felt like the huge room narrowed down to just the pair of them, their bed and their closeness.  He smiled and pointed out, "That was twenty years ago.  Remember when all we had to worry about were her nebulously defined threats to try and keep us from supporting Mother and little Mac after the passing?"

Snorting back at her male, Juicy leaned forward in the bed.  Let not a foal-and-change-sized mass of cum detract from this mare’s points.  She reached around her jiggly tummy, both hands awkwardly squeezing at the thick top layer of his sensitive super-shaft.  As she held him possessively, fingers pressing bands of pleasure into the obscene mass, she growled, "Your sister is a bigger tool than this is.”

Arching his back and pressing his mammoth stallionhood into her hands and cum-gut, Mosely grunted hard.  Undeterred, he reached up along her supine body, cupping her chin and caressing the responsive hide beneath her jawline.  The friction pressed on; precum beaded, then dripped, pooling on the sheets for later enchanted evaporation.  It gave a moment of pleasure, but a moment of regretful memory as well.

Bitter but briefly, he paused in his thrusting and murmured, "All of them always were, except…"  His voice trailed away.  He sighed and firmly put away the memory of his lost, eldest sister.  Firmly grounding himself in the now, he reached for her gigantic far breast, squeezing and pulling his body tighter against hers.  "Well!" he said after a moment, brightening up as a thought occured.  "Speaking as at least a semi-professional omen interpreter, I must say that our particular choices in that regard seem to have been validated by the Light of Harmony in a fairly unambiguous fashion."

Her lips curled slightly, and she moved her hands back to the hefty bulge of her stomach.  Arms pressing across and into the mass, she made her stomach bow out to the sides and below.  The seed-swollen stomach thus further enveloped the oversized shaft that had stuffed her this way in the first place.  Her fingers met right across the top where her innie had been forced out.  She pressed down and away, shifting the sloshing weight over and against his voluminous member.  New throbs and pulses increased in his proud prick as she pondered his notion and said, "That… is a rather good point, isn't it?  Unless her 'threats' were to nag at us every year for decades, I rather think we've evaded those as well."

Tensing his flat hips and toned shoulders to secure his position against her spunk-plumped body, Mosely smiled and addressed the heart of her discontent.  "It's just a dinner, dear," he told her quietly, and leaned further over her.  Leaned, and repeatedly thrust the pulsing, veiny length of his gigantic tool against and beneath the soft hemi-tunnel she formed from the folding press of her cum-gurgling belly.  He winked.  “One that celebrates our joy, to be precise; I should hope you feel more blessed than Clivia.”  Pulling his hips back and ducking his head around, he simultaneously lined up to thrust his prick horizontally across her middle, and aimed his seeking muzzle at her fat nip.

His hips moved again, his lust driving him to ready for the evening’s festivities.  Thrust!  His warm lube smeared her, olive pubic hair and the lighter-still hide beneath.soaked in the delicious, weighty feeling of his beautiful cock's passage.  Their hands clenched onto each other, soft and hard alike.  Juicy groaned, "Mosely…  I think you're right, by Soil and Sunlight."  Her eyes lit brightly in the near-darkness, but at least at the moment, he chose to exercise a little bit of multitasking.

"Mm?" he asked, and before she could answer rightly, he began to suckle hungrily at the juicy, milk-bearing nub.  His eager lips drained heartily at the voluminous gland supporting and supported by countless pounds of breastflesh.  His toned hips began to work faster and faster, pounding across her and grinding his marking lube into her swollen stomach and needy sweetness alike.

"Uunn~gghh!" gasped Juicy, unable to respond for a few of his steady, pounding thrusts.  She reached up to cradle his hungry head against her fat mammary, panting in between each word as she spoke.  Inhaling in ragged, shallow breaths, she said, "I… need to be big… but… Not going to let you trick me into choking that heavy hitter down in the morning...""  She whimpered.  "My lord, please don't waste your seed on the bed's cleaning magic!"

Ah, he thought.  Such sweet words; Juicy must be extra horny.  "But I thought you were offering, my sweet," he told her, though he slowed-- just a bit.  "Do you have a better option?"

"I'm going to -- ahhh!” she replied, squealing for a moment as the passage of his jerking cock left an especially vast ripple in her cum-filled belly.  “We're going to make that smarmy bitch eat her words tomorrow, and I don't want to lose to her at anything these days."  Juicy turned her head to stare challengingly at her husband.

Luxuriating in the stare, Mosely thought, Is there anything more beautiful than the sight of the mare you love making it clear what she wants and that she will have it, now?  

Continuing, Juicy growled, "I say your brutish prod can stretch my throat better than any words I can cram down hers could teach her how to gulp-- better than any two cocks, she's ever even seen could."  She curled up slightly, lifting the smish of her magnificently oversized breast to his face and pressing the inverted shotglass of her nub deep in his lusty maw.  Licking and nuzzling aggressively at his ears, she murmured that phrase that electrified them both.  "Use me, my lord, please!"

She electrified him.  As always.  His hands began to stretch and reach along her curvaceous body, his hips picking up speed.  As he watched her squirming, magnificent body, he thought, I don't think I could ever get tired of hearing her say that, so long as the love and fire remains burning hot-- demanding I give her everything.

Mosely gave the lovely nip a last lick to clean the sweet milk from it. Then, kissing his way along her gargantuan breast to her inner arm, to elbow and forearm, he scooted towards the edge of the bed.  Thwack!  Thwack!  Thwack!  went his huge member, splattering oozing dollops of lube all over Juicy and the sheets.

Finally off her, he made a little rotating gesture with his fingers.  "Lengthwise and upside down, I think," he sniffed, the pretense of snootiness breaking down very quickly into a loving half-laugh.  "I want nothing between me and filling that sexy tummy of yours."

"Mm, up close and personal with those lovely, lovely seed vaults of yours?  Or is that mine?  My clan and all," Juicy said with a smirk.  With an oof and a great wriggling, bouncing, slosh of her tummy, she scooted around, remaining on her back and head stretched slightly over the edge.  He remained quietly grateful that the huge bed was naturally about waist high; it made a number of activities far more convenient.

Cock wobbling and precum flying free, Mosely turned to go grab the little cushioned stand they used for her head on nights like these, but Juicy shook out a negative.  "Hold me," she said softly.

"What's that, love?" he asked, turning back and groaning as she reached up over her head to grab gently for his giant nuts.  Her expert fingers stroked them as she whispered all sorts of salacious promises if they'd just fill her as tight as they were.

"I said, hold me, Mosely," Juicy replied after a moment.  Not "my lord," he thought.  Her expert ministrations of his swelling testes made it a bit harder for him to think of anything but their mutual pleasure, but thankfully, she went on.  "I'm still strong.  My grip on the clan and our interests is tighter than it's ever been, and my body is fit.  I'm at the top of my game, you heavy-dicked wonderkind."  The upside down grin would have been adorable if it wasn't so fierce.  At that, she opened it in a wide gap to slurp her tongue along the musky, wrinkly-skinned masses.  "I can take a little pounding and stretching.  But I want it at your hands, held around my head while I drain these."

Mosley laughed softly; the laugh abruptly turning into a long series of shuddering gasps as she pressed her face in between his exercise-ball sized nuts and began to vigorously suck on the sensitive skin.  Her hands were pawing all over, squeezing gently, running her palms back and forth.  As the musky skin rolled and throbbed over her hands, she lightly pressed her fingers in, feeling the great swell and pump of sperm production leading into the seminal vesicles to thus become the semen she lusted after for so much.  While precum began to storm its way down from the upraised tip, above his head and fall down the column of throbbing meat, he ducked a bit awkwardly and laced his fingers together behind her head.

Juicy immediately rested the weight of her head back against his hands, lifting her chin up only to better move around and adore his mammoth fertility-orbs.  She trusted him; more, he couldn't see her expression any more than he could see her curling feet past her plumped belly, but he knew that smugness was there.  What was it you said last time, darling? he thought as he followed her lead.  Feeling her slightest change, he shifted her head around as she tilted it this way and that to keep drenching his sack in worshipful adoration.  Ah, yes.  "I do so love having a husband with stamina," you said, "that, and balls as big as my rack."

He flicked his hips, grinding his enormous sack over her eager face, letting her soak in his sex musk.  "Not.. mmm… all gone, eh?" he asked with a sweaty grin, feet tensing on and into the soft bedroom carpeting.  The response he got was rather muffled, but no less enthusiastic, and interrupted by a long stream of hungry kisses and lewd, thirsty licks with her hungry tongue.  His balls gurgled around her face, and from the hum she made-- and the almost obscenely intense pleasure her efforts were giving him-- he could be fairly certain that she gave enthusiastic agreement, indeed.

An old dance twirled between them, long-time lovers comfortable in their incandescent passion for each other.  Mosley arched his hips slightly, lifting back rather than up with his hands and pushing up with this feet.  His gigantic seed-spheres, audibly gurgling with their constant semen production, bounced faster around her head.  All the while, he kept her lovingly supported against him, trapping her in a world of thick, almost visible masculine musk.  That, and a certainly visible, seemingly endless stretch of scrotum blocking out her entire view of anything else within the dim ring of light of the lamps.

His precum rained down her, a shower over her massive breasts and bulging belly, over the bed besides and anything within reach.  Juicy squirmed and writhed, wriggling beneath the anointing cavalcade, rivulets drooling and painting patterns over the triple majestic mounds.  The heady lube ran slick and shimmering as his arousal reached a fever pitch; hers neared its first peak.  He groaned loudly and-- despite a louder and only partially obscured growl of irritation she roared through his balls, he withdrew from her.  As he moved, he actually knelt down a bit to better keep his hands cupping her head in place and gently supporting it against the rough oscillations of his gigantic cock.

"It's time," he told her, panting.  "You're going to hold your head up on your own for a few moments," he instructed her.  Before she could even start to respond, he shifted his stance slightly to better bob the mega-member she adored so much over her upside-down head.  She squealed an affirmative, sounding twenty years younger, and simply began to lick and nuzzle at the base of his shaft, in eager phallic worship waiting for the thrusts to come.

Groaning loudly, Mosely pulled back, stroking the heft of his shaft along her head.  Her willful hands and willing tongue stroked and fondled their way along the massive outline of his member.  Her head fell fully into its shadow, her constant adoration sending constant waves of incredible pleasure coursing through him.  His precum, enhanced by the primal half-rite of their lovemaking, dropped onto her body, sharing the pleasure like Cadance's own blessings.  More importantly, it enhanced the stretching magic she was about to need, very badly.

As he neared going level, and his lube had left trails and patterns of precum from her belly to her clin, he chuckled quietly.  "Are you ready, my beloved mare?" he asked softly.  Juicy growled at him again!  However, she also gave a less ambiguously positive response, her fingers squeezing against the veiny skin of his colossal cock.  Their stroking and adoring as she kissed the bottom of his blunt flare might be wordless, but her continued personal distension of her jaw as far as possible on her own served more than enough signal of her readiness.

"Good."  He inhaled slightly, relaxing his hips.  With his obscenely massive flare at her face, he waited just a moment to "kiss" her smile with a face-washing splash of precum, and then ordered, "Open up a bit more, there's a dear."

Juicy complied readily, stretching her mouth out as the earth magic between them took hold.  She waggled her tongue lewdly against the pre-spewing slit.  As it poured down into her eager maw, she rapidly shifted her tongue up to the bottom of her mouth, the better to flutter it over the thick sides of his enormous cock.  Her jaw distended wildly, like some pony-snake amalgam and he let out a loud whinny of pleasure.   With her breath hot on his pulsating crown, he elected not to tease-fuck her face for the moment, and just plowed straight forward.

Mosley felt more than heard her strangled cry of pleasure.  Whatever strange earthpower he worked into the ancient fertility rites, the sensation of being stretched out it produced apparently reached mind-igniting results in its pure ecstatic output.  Gullet and gorge distended for the determined dicking, plumping out to accommodate a shaft nearly as wide as the head it invaded mouth-first, and definitely wider than the throat that accepted it in past!

His fingers traced lightly over the taut hide displaced outward and conforming to the veiny skin beneath.  He caressed over where his veins throbbed and massaged her neck from the inside; gasped as she responded to the constant stream of stretch-sensation by humming around his massive maleness, her tongue lapping eagerly above it from her upside-down mouth.  Her fingers reached forth, greedy for more shaft, trying to grasp his heavy-hanging nuts, but not quite there, not just yet.

He knew he had to be careful with his dear Juicy.  So he took tender care in their obscene joining, stretching his shaking hands up to support her head again as soon as possible.  Every choke, every gag of her well-fucked throat sent waves of pleasure through him, but he refused to lose himself in the waves of constant sensation.  He had her arching her back, jiggling and wobbling her massive breasts and bigger, cum-stuffed belly.  Indeed, soon enough, he felt the warm of his prior-spent seed on his cock.  He was safe from anything in her stomach, much like she able still to breath-- if barely enough, and with her gag reflex placed firmly into her control-- the little that she hadn't ruthlessly removed herself long ago in her insatiable desire to gobble down his triumphant tool.   She wanted it, and wanted it all, now.

Mosley shuddered and gasped as he felt her cheeks hollow against the sides of his supersized member, precum now flowing completely freely into her well-stuffed body.  He pushed further, and further in, until his balls were positively bouncing off her forehead.  The thrust filled her world with the gurgling slosh of his heady-scented nuts.  That, it seemed, had been what she'd been waiting for, or looking for; whatever it might be, she had it.

She climaxed, then, the unique gift of his power flowing through her.  He couldn't even reach her clit from here, even if he would ever remotely take the risk of letting go of her head during the full-body facefuck.  His virile, overwhelming cock formed the core of their joining; it owned her, distorting her to fit its immensity, filling her constricted airways with his musk.  The deep-thrust and deeper-thrusting tower of fuckflesh transformed the proud body of a prouder earth pony clan maretriarch into an elongated fucksleeve.  Each new piston of his hips sent his plump flare prodding up in the surface of her already cum-swollen belly.

Body rearranged or not, Juicy remained his maretriarch.  She might enjoy this, might enjoy the play of being made to submit, but she submitted on her own terms, no others.  He could feel her force her own gasping gags to better squeeze at his cock, her hungry throat demanding the rich reward he'd promised.  Her strong hands stroked and kneaded at his weighted scrotum, caressing the thick balls and loving them with intent, deft fingers.  His groin felt utterly surrounded by pleasure, and not just the part deeply ensconced in Juicy and plowing her her very form.

The orgasm fed back into a cycle, her thrashing waves and frantic responses wrapping like a tender whirlpool around his prick.  Her hands were endlessly inventive, buffering lovingly at his thick balls with the occasional dazed caresses for his taut thighs.  As the thwacking, thumping sound of his knee-length testes jogging around her head increased, and the sheer pressure of the pounding Mosely gave her started her mountainous tits' milk flowing free, he could feel his body pushing towards his own release.

Once, however, could simply never be enough.  Still moaning, his feet braced square on the floor, Mosely scooted himself up closer and lifted the angle of his thrust.  The careful flick and altered grind made it easier for him to keep her head steady with just one hand, his left.  The other reached out across her elongated throat, and lightly, carefully stroked the spell-sensitized hide therein.

He thrust back against the rhythm of his hand, his lithe hips pumping and his enormous balls bouncing faster over Juicy’s face.  He used her throat as he’d use his own skin, his veins outlined in her hide there for his fingers to caress, the giant bulge of his medial ring for him to squeeze and rock his palm over at the base of the massive distension of her throat.  She soundlessly roared in pleasured defiance and silently squealed in ecstatic surrender, but the main work was his, the focus of his hand on his overwhelmingly gigantic cock.  He jerked himself off in swift, skilled motions, making her throat into his fucksleeve, and her body a receptacle for that utterly obscene domination.

And yet...

The effect electrified them both.  On his conquering cock alone, a few gentle strokes of his hand, masturbating himself through her body, did little to add to Juicy's own utter storm of submissive delight for his dick.  What could a hand do, after all, that a loving partner willingly using her entire body to bring Elysium to your member could not?

No, the intended and primary effect was on Juicy, as the keyed-up skin transmitted and retransmitted the pleasure of surrender to the druidic forces.  It flowed throughout her as the light, skillful constrictions of her breathing passages heightened the concentration of his pheromones, as earth-enchanted and primal as the rest of his sexual self, within her lungs.

Mosely's eyes rolled up in the back of his head as he felt her tapering climax suddenly explode into orgasm after orgasm.  Each clench of her body, surely mirrored by the wink and squeeze of clit and cunt, began in a series of spasms shortly replaced by further, harder, more encompassing climaxes.  He used her, as she demanded, but he also granted her an unending supply of nerve-igniting passion and ecstatic suffusion of pure pleasure.

He couldn't last any further.  His toes curled up and his feet involuntarily pushed his lithe body forward against her as he cried out in wordless, primitive frenzy.  Only the barest control prevented him from pushing forward on the balls of his feet and bending Juicy to conform in every measure to his spasming cock.  The sheer mass of his climax meant that it started in a near-roar of its own, his gigantic seed-spheres rushing and thickening around his wife's head.  He howled, a prayer to the wild forces he served, and a reminder that though he might be Manehattanite, a city stallion, his roots were still in the thrust and the fuck and in the pleasure of bodies coming together, the lust of mating and the love of a lifetime in the pursuit of one flesh.

Mosely's hands flew back to Juicy's head, cradling it close.  They trembled, hands and ponies alike, as his already overgrown shaft swelled with the sudden wad, bulging out along its inconceivable length and re-distorting her body anew.  Her hands darted, somehow precisely to his, stroking and scratching her nails lightly along his wrists.  Their loving caress was a wordless sweet nothing to match the soundless murmurs rising to silent whinnies and roars of delight around the demanding, cum-pulsing prick.

Cum invaded Juicy's body.  She might have been denied the nigh-divine taste of his fertile seed, but its burning heft stretched her and filled her, replacing everything she'd lost and more.  He couldn't help it, and didn't want to.  For all her growling before, she made it entirely clear by tongue and hand and guzzling swallowing that she wanted more, always more.  The more he came and the more he pulsed rich and fertile seed into her ever-growing belly (her breasts, too, by this point becoming just further bloated reservoirs), the more that she demanded, the more she drained from his throbbing nuts.

They refused, however, to be drained completely.  The sheer mass and reservoir, the gurgling and gargantuan spunk storage had built up so heavily that no matter how hard Mosely came and no matter how much Juicy’s already enormous belly bloated, his swelling seed always seemed to just slosh on.  Forget doubling up, forget tripling up, Mosely found himself orgasming a grand and unstoppable four times without softening simply from the aggressive and constant suckle by his cum-thirsty wife.

Even if he could have refracted, even if he had any response other than to cum anew at the sheer pleasure of inflating her endlessly, she would permit no such nonsense.  No matter how bloated and distended the rest of her got, Juicy seemed to find endless ways to hum, slurp, suck, stroke and otherwise ruthlessly pump his cock for the stallion-spooge she so considered her reward and right.  He saw, not stars, but a glorious and primal burst that overwhelmed vision almost as much as the undeniable pleasure overwhelmed his sense of touch.  

Eventually, their mutual climaxes ebbed, and he laughed softly, groaning.  "Need to…”  he said, his voice trailing off into a gasp.  “Need to let you breathe, darling.”  He smiled as he pulled his gigantic cock from her stuffed throat, gently batting away her grabbing hands as she tried to keep him on by the simple expedient of trying to grab his low-hanging sack.  His massive tool popped out with a wet, messy smack! and his beloved mare snapped her blunt teeth at him.

In response to his raised eyebrow, Juicy gave a nickering snort, the fierce impact somewhat softened by the squishing gurgling from below.  "I wasn't through with that, Mosley!  A little fall of tears does not mean I'm that low on oxygen!"  Her hands stroked over all of her mountainous, spherical belly that she could reach, caressing it possessively.  "Consider it an anniversary present?" she said hopefully.

Rolling his eyes, Mosely gently lifted her head and shoulders, rotating her more fully onto the bed and pillows.  He smirked at her and replied, "Wait for the morning on the latter, I have plans.  As for the former…  Who says we're done?" he teased.

"You've filled me up to the point that I am presently all but immobile," she growled back at him.  "How, exactly, do you plan on feeding me more of that delicious spunk?"

Smirking, he knelt down, grunting as his still-stiff shaft rubbed against the bed, sending a fresh wave of precum over Juicy's recumbent form.  "Oh, I thought I'd work on a more traditional style of filling," he said with a chuckling whinny.

"You bastard!  You're going to end up splurting out half of my collection everyw-- don't you dare!" she growled at him, trying to grab on to the bed or his arm.

Laughing, Mosely hefted his overstuffed wife over and let the gushing wave free as she coughed up an unfortunate blast of his cum.  "I suppose I'll simply have to work on replacing it as well as adding to the wad, my dear," he replied.

The flung pillow, he felt, qualified as a bit rude, as well as sticky.  Her flagged tail, on the other hand, was a much more welcome communication of intent.  Chuckling, he tossed the pillow to the side and grabbed onto her luscious rump cheeks.  “Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you,” he said with a smirk, drawing the cum-covered expanse of his super-shaft along her flanks.  “Tell me you don’t want to end the night unconscious from me spreading your thighs and stretching your hips, and I’ll just summon the cum back for you.”

“It’s all dirty now, you disobedient letch!” Juicy snarled at him, and spread the curvaceous thighs in question.  “Get to work, and don’t spare the thrusts, you randy, arrogant, delicious asshole!”

“I’m not intending on plundering your randy asshole tonight, dear,” Mosely responded mildly.  As she began to curse at him and stamp her long, lewdly lush legs, he spanked her again.  Her tail remain strictly flagged, her feet pumping up and down, the better to shake her grandly curved tush at him.  The cum still churning in her gut made her resultant reply a gurgle, but it certainly distracted her enough for him to pull back-- and thrust forward.

He might have teased; he might have slowly, sensuously built up to a slow stretch and penetration.  Many nights he would have.  But tonight, with her body already suffused with distensive magic and orgasmic lubrication, she didn’t need it, and honestly wouldn’t have tolerated it.

So Mosely thrust forward, hard from the hips.  His enormous cock, better suited for a hyper half again his size, pounded into her waiting, winking snatch all in one smooth motion.  If he moved with smooth, practiced skill at the hips, there was no way the gigantic flare could fit into the tight embrace of his wife’s fat pussy with such uninterrupted grace.   The huge, blunt expanse stretched her immediately, but between the grasping, fluttering wink of her renewed orgasm and the sheer heft of it, he was stuck, for just a moment.

Not long, though.  “Mine!” she cried at him, a demand, a need, and his precum flooded into her, but it wasn’t enough.  He was pushed back by the effects of the distension magic, her body’s enhanced elasticity all but fucking back at him.  Soon, Juicy’s own efforts, nigh immobile from cum or not, came to his aid, as the earth-strong maretriarch braced against their resilient bed and shoved her broad rump right back towards him.  Her cunt briefly became a stretched-out O as it popped back over the huge flare, a loud, splattering noise following as the tight lips spasmed shut around the immense shaft as he finally sunk the crown within.

Just the crown in, and she was already squealing, the pleasure of the spell mixing with the friction of his cum-coated colossal cock over clit.  Her toes dragged hard into the carpet, her feet pawing almost as though about to charge.  The magic was designed for maximum sensation for both parties, and as her stretching pussy clamped around the gigantic tool, her clit was kept close to the vein-laden surface.  All the while, her cunt became more and more of a sleeve for his super-sized shaft, but it was a sleeve with grip, the fluttering of the inner walls’ muscles rubbing and fondling him as possessively as her own hand.

Precum met femmecum, Juicy’s orgasm already in full swing.  Once the length between them was mostly within her, he began to lightly spank her upturned rump, just little stinging marks that made her jiggly body wriggle harder and her gripping pussy clench even harder still.  The pistoning of his hips and the pounding of his prodigious cock, deeper and ever deeper into the squealing mare kept her climaxing hard around his oversized shaft, the seal between them so tight that neither lube nor her ejaculate escaped.  If inflation was their goal, and it very much was, she was definitely getting a preview on the return he intended.

Mosely thought, Not, I think, that she’s focused on much else beyond claiming more of my cock right now.  Or rather, thought in between thrusts, thought when the incredible action of her sex’s writhing squirm and her backwards grind over him didn’t leave him just as focused on filling her.  On fucking her, until there was little left other than feral ponies, the Manehattanite in them swept away by lust and pleasure.  He had an advantage here, his very spiritual nature entwining with his self-control and dedication to her to let him control his thrusts and aim his grunting, grinding penetration of her body.  As his huge balls, full and overfull of cum as they promised to make her, swung closer and closer to his wife, he was at least able part of the time able to concentrate on the skill of it, the art of pleasuring her.

It wasn’t that Juicy was any less strong-willed than he.  But with her clit and G and every other pleasurebound nerve all but conforming to his huge horescock in the distension, with that strong will focused on submission and surrender as well as the returning claim upon him, she simply had no need to control herself and less experience with doing so at precisely such a moment at this.  She didn’t have to.  

Mosely took it all on himself, restraining his senses and forcing himself to greater endurance on her behalf.  He worked to drive her wild on both their behalfs, and her grunting, nickering cries of mind-blanking delight were as much praise as the sheer athletic force of her counterthrusts despite her once-more inflating belly.  She slammed her heels down hard into the carpet and grabbed the bed so hard to brace her pressing reversals that she nearly tore open the mattress.

For all she still retained the vast majority of the spunk he’d put in her, Mosely’s lewd invasion of her pussy, womb and all, was slowly reshaping his curvaceous wife’s belly to better fit the colossal ridge of his cock.  The throbbing, vein-skinned member thrust deeper and deeper, and he exhaled on each thrust.  Loud grunts of effort were all that was keeping him from climaxing along with her, but he held out, wanting to elongate not merely Juicy, but the moment with her as well.  The ecstatic pleasure they shared was sacred to him not just as a druid, but as her lover.  As her mate, her stallion, as the pony who adored her.  She gave in to him, gave freely of herself to his lusts, and he in turn gave everything he had for her.

There was only so much he could take.  The moment his immense stallionhood hilted home, his gigantic balls bouncing off her lush thighs, he cried out her name, and it was the last thing above the level of the Red and the Green that he felt for some time.  Climax.  Hers renewed, his returned.  The light gold of his hide and the light olive of hers seemed to blur and intertwine as the two foot diameter spunk-orbs swelled to a renewed mass, as their screams of pleasure became as one.

The already gigantic heft of Mosely’s maleness seemed to lurch with a mind of its own as his seed sped down its heavy length and splurted into her waiting, wanting body.  Her back was outlined with the intense muscles that hauled her giant rack around and let her carry one of their orange trees without breaking a sweat.  His hands were buried deep in the squishiness of her ass, the normally perky flesh compressing out and then over his hands as he fondled her instinctively.

His rich and boundless cum flowed endlessly.  The virile, hyper-productive sperm fountained, volcanoed into Juicy, filling her cunt entire.  They were too locked together for it to escape or backwash.  For all that his burgeoning climax pumped into her, for all that it inflated her, none of it spilled, held captive by the clench of her pussy and the throb of his column of male meat.

The pleasure was just too overwhelming.  By the time the first orgasmic release had even gotten most of the way spent, his oversized balls were tightened once again!  He doubled up, and soon, thick stallion spunk already loaded into her past her old “collection’s” height, he was tripled up, cumming nearly as hard as she was!

Mosely couldn’t even stand any more.  As he cumflated his beloved matriarch for the third time running in just this rutting alone, he fell against her back.  She seemed to sense it coming, and both rolled her plush ass to meet him, cushioning his fall, but also shut her jaws tight, determined not to let the force of this set of climaxes shove out the still-gurgling gift of the last.  Their bodies slammed together, over and over again.  Then, at last, his titanic testes appeared to have mercy on them both, and spat forth the gel-rich final spooge that would cap when his enormous prick at last made its way out of her body.





If it did before she converted most of the cum to temporary mass in her well-satisfied womb and stomach.  It would spend swiftly like all magical spunk did, of course.  But Juicy always wondered, when things got this heated, if his sheer virility would give her another foal despite her age.  It wasn’t like she was in any danger, nor the foal, not with the father being a fertility druid.  They lay against one another, insensate, she didn’t know how long.  Muttering to herself about lazy males, Juicy reached back with one hand and possessively kept her husband’s body on and against her and in her as he snored against her giant body.

“Not… rrrgh…” she gurgled a bit, and clamped down on her jaw to keep her ballooning stomach from releasing more jizz.  After she was sure she wouldn’t let any more escape, she wordlessly hauled herself all the way up onto the bed, letting Mosely rest against the strength of her back, the cush of her expansive butt, and with his cock firmly held fast by her claiming cunny.  “Not the first time I’ve had… to haul you up after you snoozed on me, beloved stud.”

It wasn’t like it would have been the first time she’d passed out from the sheer wave of sensation and he’d had to tuck her in, either, but Juicy was always a little happier when she could do this for her husband.  He put a lot of effort into keeping her happy, and overfull of cum.  It was the least she could do, honestly, and it wasn’t like sleeping on a mattress of her stud’s fertile jizz was either new or uncomfortable.

She was able to easily tilt her head slightly to the side and rest on one of her vastly inflated boobs, only the slight shudders from time to time at the eternally sensitive skin reacting to the weight of her head on it.  Mosely was like the best kind of blanket, and even if she wasn’t a unicorn, to levitate sheets over him, she had a feeling that he wouldn’t really be feeling the cold much anyway.

Here, now, in the final pools of light, she let some of her fierceness fall.  “I love you, Mosely Orange.  Here’s to another thirty years or more, and all the Alicorns grant.”  A smug smile curled the edges of her lips.  “I hope you did put another foal-- or an army of them-- in my belly,” she whispered.  “I want more of you, my dear, and more of our us.  I am so glad to be yours, and to have you, utterly, as mine.”

With that, Juicy gave the preprogrammed command, and the last lights fell, leaving her with the warm, sloshing glow within.  “Happy anniversary to us,” she said, and slept.