Public Service
Resting on a stool behind the front counter of his inn, his feet propped next to the cash register, Anon languidly flipped the page of the most recent issue of Power Ponies. While didn’t have many complaints about living in Equestria, the lack of modern entertainment was definitely one of them - sure, a life without smartphones, social media, and the constant bombardment of information, most of which was negative, was nice, but he’d be lying if he claimed not to miss movies and video games from time to time. Staring blankly at the colorful comic in his hand, his mind started to wander.
It was funny - in many ways, he’d gotten everything he hoped for. He owned his own business, his life was relaxed by any standard, and he got along well with everybody in town - that said, opening an inn had come with a few setbacks. Nearly a year ago, back when he’d been living under Twilight Sparkle’s roof, he could come and go as he pleased, fucking about whenever he liked, but that time had come to an end. Since he couldn’t afford to have any employees, he was stuck manning the desk for large swathes of time - that or he’d have to put up a be back in thirty minutes sign on his door and risk losing a customer.
Since he’d opened his business, he’d had several pleasant interactions with guests, but one stood head and shoulders above the rest. About a month ago, an older, very demanding mare had shown up at his door - a mare named Ms. Harshwhinny. What he’d presumed would be a bog-standard, albeit difficult customer ended up giving him several passionate nights in his room. While he was well-aware that plowing one’s client probably wasn’t a good business practice, they’d both had a good time, she’d promised to send him more business, and she’d given a rather generous tip upon leaving.
The sound of hooves stepping onto his porch caught his ear and snapped him from his thoughts. If he’d been a bit more prudent, he would have opened a bed-and-breakfast in one of the larger cities in Equestria, or possibly at some tourist destination, yet he’d chosen the quaint little village of Ponyville. Though the recently erected School of Friendship did bring him clients from time to time, what with the students coming from over the continent and beyond to attend the academy, it wasn’t like he could see himself ever getting loaded from his relatively laid-back choice of profession.
As the front door jingled, he spotted a familiar smokey mane, sandy coat, and piercing sapphire eyes. Like nearly everyone who lived in town, the mayor was as easygoing and friendly as they come. Spotting him behind his counter, carrying a satchel over one shoulder, she smiled and trotted to the front desk.
“Afternoon, Anon. Doing well this evening?” she sweetly asked, peering up at him.
Getting to his feet and stepping around to greet her, he reflexively sank to one knee. “I’ve been doing alright. What brings you to visit, Mayor Mare? Looking to rent a room for the night?”
Her cheerful laugh and dismissive bat of her hoof brought a smile to his lips. He’d always found it a bit odd that her name - her actual name was Mayor Mare, sounding like something out of a children’s cartoon show, but he’d learned not to question such things in Equestria. At the end of the day, she was sweet, sympathetic, and she’d been instrumental in helping him with the bureaucratic nightmare that was opening a lodge.
Unfortunately, as he’d been quick to discover, the red tape and paperwork of his new homeland were nearly as hellish as those of Earth. He’d had to file multiple permits, his inn had to meet certain codes, and the building had to be rezoned for commercial use - all of which had stressed him out to the max. If he’d any idea starting a business would be as much of a headache as it had been, he may have just given up on the matter and resigned himself to working as a janitor in the School - mercifully, the good mayor had been a downright godsend with walking him through the process.
Her laughter trailed off as she dug in her satchel, fishing out a neatly-bound scroll. “I actually would like to stay one of these nights, but that’s a talk for another time. Have a look at this.”
Taking the roll of paper from her hoof, Anon unfurled the document and scanned over it. “What am I looking at exactly?” he inquired, piquing a brow.
“It’s your official business permit!” she cheered, beaming from ear to ear.
He scrunched his nose, reading and rereading the paper. “But I’ve been open for months.”
“Yes but those were under a provisional permit. Now that you have this, you won’t have to worry about doing any more pesky paperwork - well aside from an annual inspection,” she explained. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I thought I’d swing by to deliver the good news personally.”
As he peeked up at a clock by the entrance, his smile wavered. It was nearly eight in the afternoon, well past the point when the town hall had closed, which meant one of two things - either she’d been busting her rump for nearly ten hours straight or she’d made the odd choice to pay him a visit out of the blue. Shifting his focus over to her, he cocked his head.
“Have you been working all day?” he asked.
Averting her gaze, she rubbed the back of her neck. “Raven’s been out sick for the last few days, so I’ve been trying to hold down the fort by myself. If it makes you feel any better, you are my last stop before I head home for the day.”
Stricken by just how hard she’d been working, he reached over and sat the scroll on his desk. “Have you eaten today?”
“I had a salad for lunch, but I was going to -” she cut herself off, as he held up a hand.
“Considering I was about to make some dinner for myself, how about you join me for supper,” he stated, standing. “After everything you’ve done for me, a hot meal is the least I can do for you.”
An uneasy grin split her muzzle, as she peeked back at the exit. “I’d hate to impose.”
“Please ~ like I’d ever consider you a bother,” he chuckled, turning and motioning for her to follow. “Just go and wait for me in the lounge; I’m gonna throw some food in the oven and get us something to drink.”
Leaving her in the lobby, he strolled out of the room and into the kitchen area. The structure had originally been a rather spacious home, having several bedrooms, bathrooms, and a spacious den, which meant he’d only had to make a few small adjustments to convert it into a bed-and-breakfast. He definitely hadn’t planned on having anyone to share dinner with, nor had he any way of knowing that his business permit, a permit he’d presumed had already been finalized, would be delivered - nevertheless, it was a welcome development for what would have likely been a somewhat uninteresting evening.
Moving to and opening his freezer, he grabbed a tray of frozen lasagna, stepped over to his stove, and turned the oven on to preheat. It was going to take a while until their dinner would be ready to eat, but that was nothing that couldn’t be solved with a friendly chat and a bottle of applejack. Having no other ideas for the occasion, he figured sampling a bit of supposedly damn good brandy with a friend would be a darn good way to celebrate - that and, on the off chance he did have a customer appear from out of the ether, he could easily check them in if he was slightly tipsy.
With the egg timer set, and the bottle of applejack in his hand, he grabbed two rocks glasses from his cupboard. Yeah, maybe this afternoon would be better than he’d thought. The only things on his docket had been to eat some dinner, take a shower, and possibly - just possibly indulge in the memories of his erotic escapades.
As he rounded the corner and approached the den, he sighed. After his climactic confrontation with Eris, his amorous adventures were behind him - something which was both an immeasurable relief and a bit disheartening. It had been terrifying to be on the lam from the Princesses, yet he’d gotten more exotic ass than any human could have ever dreamed of. Lifting and shaking his head, seeing his guest lounging in one of his two recliners, he shook the glasses and smirked.
“Applejack and her brother brought me this when I opened the place,” he remarked, peering down at the bottle. “I figured we could crack into this bad-boy while we wait for the…”
He fell silent, only then taking note of how she was sitting. Reclined in her chair, her hind legs parted just the tiniest bit, she gave him an unintended peek at her goods. One of, if not the biggest double-edged sword to living in a land of magical, talking ponies was that the colorful equines rarely wore a damn thing. Almost instantly realizing he was ogling the dark flesh of her marehood, he tore his eyes away and forced his grin to return.
Innocently smiling over at him, she was apparently ignorant of what she was showing off. “Wait for the…?”
“Food - wait for the food,” he blurted.
“Well I’m game if you are. After the day I’ve had, this will be just the ticket,” she murmured, eyeing the bottle. “Have you tried Apple family brandy before?”
He shook his head, stepping to and setting the tumblers down on the coffee table. “Can’t say I have - actually, I’m not much of a drinker.”
“Fair warning, that stuff is dangerous,” she mused, watching him pour her two fingers of the amber beverage. “Don’t be too surprised if you wind up on your butt.”
Passing her one of the two glasses, while keeping his drink extended toward her, he hopped into the empty chair beside her. “A toast.”
She immediately clinked her glass against his, gazing over at him. “And what are we toasting to?”
“To good friends and bright futures,” he proclaimed.
“Here here,” she merrily whooped.
Taking sips from their respective drinks, their reactions couldn’t have been more different. While Mayor Mare gave a contented sigh, Anon hissed when the cloying beverage coursed down his throat. It didn’t taste bad by any means - in fact, it was damn tasty, but he hadn’t been expecting something so strong. As he stared into the glass, wondering what the proof was, his company cleared her throat.
“I warned you,” she giggled, shooting him a wink and a smile. “So then ~ how’s business been?”
Wriggling in his chair, his second favorite of the pair, he began what turned into a refreshingly lighthearted conversation with his company. Though it wasn’t that uncommon to casually chat with someone, doing so in the comfort of his home-made-inn, while over a glass of surprisingly smooth hooch, was an exceptionally rare treat. Sadly, as they discussed and occasionally bemoaned their lives, the mayor’s subtle warning proved all too true.
He couldn’t say precisely when the brandy had begun to sneak up on him, but it wasn’t long before a warmness permeated through him. Peeking over at the clock, seeing he still had nearly thirty minutes left until the lasagna was ready, he scrunched his nose. While he wasn’t drunk, he was definitely feeling a bit more loose-lipped and relaxed than usual.
“Say, Anon,” she began, bringing his attention back to herself, “I have a question for you, if…” Hesitating for a moment, she waved a hoof. “Nevermind.”
“Go ahead,” he swiftly responded, his curiosity piqued.
Blushing and averting her gaze, she fidgeted in place. “I’ve been curious about something ~ why is it that you haven’t found yourself a marefriend?”
In spite of his buzz, Anon started. “I really wish I could answer that,” he admitted, wistfully peering into his glass. “On that subject ~ how about yourself? Is there any reason there isn’t a Mister Mayor Mare?”
She shrugged, sinking into her chair and taking a sizable draught from her drink. “Honestly, it’s a number of reasons. It’s hard to find the time to date, what with being the mayor, but that’s not the biggest issue - simply put, I’m not as young as I used to be.”
Her comment took him off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Please ~ as if you don’t know,” she muttered, downing the rest of her brandy in a single gulp. “With the number of young, attractives mares we have in town, the competition to find a stallion, even for a night or two, is stiff.”
Anon was all for a bit of lighthearted self-deprecation, but this was too much. Gulping down the remainder of his drink, he loudly sat his glass on the table and locked eyes with her. “Any stallion would be lucky to have a mare like you. You’re hard working, you’ve got a great disposition, you have the patience of a saint, and you’re quite attractive.”
Her eyes widened ever so slightly, she held a hoof to her chest, and her jaw flapped for a moment, before she regained a bit of her composure. “Y…you’re just saying that.”
“Nope,” he instantly replied, “I’m dead serious - in fact, compared to most younger mares, I’d say you’d be the better catch.”
“W…well,” she sputtered, grinding her thighs together and fidgeting in place, “I think you’re rather handsome yourself.”
With his ego stroked, the corners of his lips turned up. “I appreciate that, but -”
“A…and I may have heard about some of your additional services,” she interrupted, her face beet red. Keeping her eyes on the floor, she fumbled for the bottle, glanced up, and poured herself a hefty slug of liquor. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, and I realize this may be a breach of etiquette for my position, but I was wondering what your rates are?”
Utterly gobsmacked by what he’d just heard, Anon sat silent and motionless. At the drop of a hat, spurred by what had been a relatively tame line of questioning, he’d just been propositioned by Ponyville’s highest official - at least it sure as hell sounded that way. Taking the bottle from her grasp, he poured himself another dose of dutch courage.
“Just to be clear ~ are you asking me for what I think you’re asking me for?” he whispered, slipping another peek at her groin.
Throwing her head back and taking her shot, she clamped her eyes shut and gave a nod. “Only if you’re alright with it. Given how highly Ms. Harshwhinny spoke of you, not to mention how long it’s been since I’ve gotten any relief, I couldn’t help but wonder if her tales were true - t…that is if you’re interested.”
His pickled mind ran wild, doing its damnedest to process everything that was happening. Of course he was interested! Why in the hell wouldn’t he have been interested?! He’d meant everything he’d said a few moments ago, finding her both hot and charming, so the notion of not doing the horizontal tango with her seemed absurd - so absurd that his body reminded him of how alluring he found her. Feeling his manhood swelling and brushing against the inside of his shorts, he came to a decision.
He could have taken the slow, sensual route, progressing from flirting to groping and eventually reaching home base, but that didn’t strike him as ideal. From the sounds of it, she hadn’t gotten lucky in quite some time, they were both feeling a bit loose lipped, and it was clear that neither had any other obligations for the rest of the night - as such, seeing as how he’d unwittingly cultivated a dubious name for himself, he decided on a rather brazen approach. Unsteadily standing and stepping before her, he fell to his knees, prized her hind legs apart, and dove face first into her muff.
“A…Anon,” she bleated, clamping her thighs to either side of his head, “w…what are you doing?!”
Staring up at her, he lovingly kissed and licked the meaty folds of her marehood. Her question was either rhetorical or borne from shock - either way, there was no way she didn’t know what he was doing. Gliding his hands up her legs and to her waist, sensually caressing her soft, supple hide, he groaned into her. She’d been nothing but helpful to him, she rarely failed to brighten his day, and she’d managed to summon the courage to ask him for a bit of intimacy - as far as he was concerned, she’d earned the best he had to offer.
His tongue danced over her entrance, tracing around her winking, engorged clit, granting him the first taste of her sex. Each of the mares he’d had the good fortune of bedding had a number of similarities, specifically that their juicy bits had a unique tang of citrus and grass, yet they all had subtle differences as well. Stricken by just how succulent and sweet her nethers were, hearing her stifle a whimper, he felt his cock straining against his trunks.
It may have been a bit self indulgent, possibly because his inhibitions weren’t as strong as they usually were, but the sight of her barely restrained bliss was incredible. Gnawing her lip, her hips twitching and threatening to buck, she ground her snatch against him. Despite her outburst, her shock gradually gave way to the desires she’d so carefully concealed.
No matter how many times he got to experience the lascivious side of creatures, nothing - nothing quite beat the gratification of his efforts being appreciated. As if her winking and positively drenched state wasn’t telling enough, her heavy breaths and soft moans smacked of just how true she’d been; she really was in dire need of a damn good lay, and she’d come to just the right man - the only man for the job. As she slid her tush to the edge of the seat, giving him unfettered access to her goods, she locked her fetlocks around the back of his head.
“Sweet Celestia - you’re too good at this,” she murmured, rolling her head back and closing her eyes.
Shifting his focus to her clit, he gently nursed and suckled the sensitive nub of flesh. The sharp gasp which escaped her was music to his ears, undoing what little reluctance he’d had about fooling around with her. While she may have been a city official, not to mention a friend, at the end of the day, she was still a mare with needs - needs he had every intention of addressing. Freeing one hand from her flank, he reached down to undo his shorts.
Seeing as how she’d worked up the nerve to be direct with him, regardless of whether the brandy had any bearing on the matter, he couldn’t bring himself to just treat her to his oral skills - plus he was rock hard from the unexpectedly licentious turn of events. As he stroked his cock, alternating his techniques to keep her on a back hoof, he paused when he noticed something rather odd. The fact that she had the slightest bit of bush hadn’t stopped him from going down on her, yet he hadn’t initially noticed a tinge of pink at the roots of the soft tuft of hair.
Noticing the break in his concentration, she lowered her head and peered down at him. “W…why’d you stop?”
Pulling away, he met her eyes. “This is gonna sound weird, but is your hair supposed to be pink?”
“I - um -” she nervously croaked, looking away, “I might dye parts…”
Squinting up at her mane, then down to her dock, he found yet more of the vividly colored roots of hair. He would never have guessed that such an innocuous admission could be as hot as it was, but the throbbing manhood in his grasp was a testament to his arousal. Bumping his nose to her groin, he smirked.
It was at that moment, his mind clouded by lust and the brandy in his veins, that he made a spontaneous request. “If you leave here satisfied, I’d be more than happy to give you another roll if you come back with this as a little pink heart.”
Her flustered reaction, both seeing and hearing the breath hitch in her throat, was priceless in the best way. “Y…you mean it?”
“Only if you leave here satisfied,” he clarified, drawing his tongue over his lips.
Without so much as a second thought, she flexed her legs and buried his face in her puss. “Deal - now enough with the talking.”
Thrilled that his spontaneous offer had been so quickly accepted, he lapped at her loins with renewed vigor. From what he’d seen, and as far as he knew, ponies having any kind of bush was pretty uncommon, so the idea of her agreeing to trim a taffy-colored heart of her downy fur was as amusing as it was exciting. Resting on his knees, languidly jacking himself off while tenderly squeezing her backside, he was serenaded by the sounds of her delight.
He had to have stayed where he was for nearly ten minutes, before he felt her thigh starting to tremble. Though there was a strong argument to be made for eating her out to a climax, there was something they’d both enjoy much, much more than that. Reaching up and gingerly pulling her legs from his head, he freed himself, rocked back, and pushed himself up.
The almost wounded look on her face was gone in a flash, as he leaned forward and slipped his arms around her. Roughly an average size compared to most ponies, that being a fraction of his mass, he was easily able to pick her up and hold her to his chest. With the appetizer having whetted his appetite, it was time for him to serve her the main course.
She looked around herself, a bit startled to be so effortlessly lifted from her seat, and craned her neck to peer up at him. “Please tell me we’re headed to your bedroom.”
“Mmmhmm,” he smugly hummed, rounding a corner into the foyer. “I’m gonna show you the -”
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing
Freezing in his tracks, he glanced in the direction of the kitchen. Damn that egg timer - damn the lasagna that had finished at the worst fucking time imaginable - still, as much as he would have liked to let the dinner burn, he wasn’t about to risk having his house being set ablaze. With a heavy sigh, he pivoted on his heel and changed course to go salvage their would-be, albeit inconvenient meal.
Setting his impassioned, very damp charge on his table, he grumbled to himself. “One sec…”
A scowl graced his countenance, as he crossed the room, snatched up a pair of potholders, and opened the oven. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world to momentarily pause his erotic pursuits, but he was less than pleased with the development. Trying and failing to calm his frazzled nerves, he extracted the lasagna, sat it on the counter, turned, and went rigid.
With her legs lewdly spayed, laid back and braced on her forehooves, Mayor Mare put herself on obscene display. He understood that she was eager to continue, yet he’d woefully underestimated just how bad she must have wanted a good dicking. With a come hither look that could slay a priest, she reached down, spread her marehood, and gave him a peek at her rosy, inviting depths.
“How about we s…skip dinner and go straight to dessert,” she apprehensively cooed.
Saints preserve him - her presentation hammered every button he had. A cougar was spread-eagle on his kitchen table, she was sopping wet, and the touch of awkwardness in her tone proved to be an utterly merciless combination, all but forcing him to change his plans. Though going to the comfort and seclusion of his bedroom would have been pleasant, christening his kitchen was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
Practically ripping his shirt up and over his head with one hand, tossing the garment to the side, he fumbled for his belt. To hell with it - a soft mattress may have been ideal to get down and dirty on, but it wasn’t that important. As he stepped out of his shorts and underwear, after they’d drifted down his legs and to the floor, he grabbed his dick and strutted over to her.
“This wouldn’t get me a break on my taxes ~ would it?” he purred, playfully slapping his manhood against the plump mound of her drooling snatch.
Staring down her chest, eyes locked on his manhood, she expectantly held herself open for him. “If you’re half as good as Ms. Harshwhinny said you are, I might be able to pull some strings.”
He couldn’t have cared less if she was serious or not - not after feeling how warm she was against his cock. Taking a small step back, kissing the tip of his shaft to her entrance, he slowly drove his hips forward and sank into her sweltering, inviting depths. God damn - it hadn’t even been that long since he’d gotten his dick wet, but she felt fucking fantastic. With nearly half his length sheathed, he pressed his hands under her knees, locking her hind legs open, and leaned over her.
Her expression was a thing wet dreams were made of, her eyelids fluttering while a bead of drool crept from the corner of her mouth, and he had to fight himself from hilting her in an instant. He couldn’t be sure how many partners she’d had before him, but he couldn’t resist stroking his ego the tiniest bit. It was only when his waist pressed against her, his balls resting against the cleft of her ass, did he break the silence.
“You need a second?” he sweetly inquired, drawing her attention up to his face.
“N…no,” she stammered, her response sounding none too convincing, “but you feel much bigger than you look.”
“And you feel almost as amazing as you are beautiful, my sweet little mare,” he breathed, lowering his head and locking lips with her.
Fuck it - if he was going to whore himself out to mares, he may as well start polishing his debonair act up a bit. Forcing his tongue into her muzzle, catching her off guard, he rolled his hips back, freed a portion of his shaft, and set to plowing her at a relaxed pace. While she wasn’t quite as snug as some of the creatures he’d ended up doing the nasty with, her slick, silken, and steamy interior was remarkable nonetheless.
Rocking forward and back with each thrust, she threw her forelegs upward and hugged his neck. The pleased groan and sensation of her tongue slipping into his mouth, warring with his, was thrilling, but it was far from the only thing she had going for her. With a skill that could have only come from a lifetime of experience, she fiercely constricted her marehood on his withdrawals while relaxing on his plunges - milking him with a tenacity that even some of his younger partners lacked.
While they sloppily made out, softly moaning and grunting, his instincts seized hold. The primitive parts of his mind went alight, grabbing the reins and wrenching control of his body. No matter how many times he ended up doing the deed with someone, irrespective of their species, there was only so much self-control he could exert. With his mind in a haze, he steadily moved harder and faster.
The table beneath them rocked and bumped against the wall, her mewling reverberated through his maw, and his balls rhythmically slapped against her tush, as he lost himself to the rapturous moment. It was hard to explain exactly why, but railing an older, more seasoned mare was leagues better than he would have ever presumed. Maybe he was so worked up to be the young stud servicing someone who was twice his age, or perhaps it was because she’d come to him for some relief - whatever the case may be, he was absolutely loving it.
Wrenching her head back and gazing up at him, a strand of saliva connecting her lips to his, she broke their kiss. “H…harder.”
Her plea doused his passion with fuel, and he acted before he could truly think. Straightening up ever so slightly, he grabbed her fetlocks, slammed her hooves to either side of her head, and flew into an absolute frenzy. If she wanted it harder - by Celestia, he’d be more than happy to oblige. Pounding into her with renewed vigor, he was rewarded with a whorish, guttural, and wholly unbecoming groan.
There was no restraint, no sensual escalation to his motions - he simply pulled out all the stops and went wild. If there was one thing he’d learned about such trysts, it was that self-discipline wasn’t quite as important as he’d once thought. They’d have the rest of the night with one another, as well as the following morning, so he’d have plenty of chances to give her a more protracted experience of his zeal.
She pulled her torso up and pressed her face to his shoulder, panting and whimpering louder with every passing moment, while her marehood began to quiver. He’d been with enough mares to know she was getting close, a fact which did little to impede his own approaching climax, yet he’d had no way of knowing just how ferocious she could truly be. Seconds after throwing her head back and howling to the heavens, she struck with all the tenacity of a warrior princess.
Her hind legs kicked from his grasp, locking against his hips and pulling him in, as she shot forward and bit his collar. The suddenness of her attack, streaking his bliss with a tinge of pain, wrought havoc upon him. He’d been pretty close to his limit, maybe a few minutes to last at most, yet her passionate move was too much to bear. She wished to claim his seed as deeply as possible, and that’s exactly what she got.
His knees buckled, he collapsed on top of her, and he pumped her foal-factory full of several day’s worth of pent-up jizz, as his eyes rolled back. He hadn’t had a female get that assertive since his time with Ember - even then, the dragoness had preferred brute force over a sneak attack! Only barely managing to stay standing, he heaved air into his chest and fought to recover.
“N…not bad for an older mare ~ huh?” she wheezed, looking no less euphoric and exhausted than he felt.
He nodded and swallowed hard, struggling to catch his breath. “D…don’t think I’m done with you yet,” he asserted, his bravado overtaking his common sense. “Round two?”
“I’m ready when you are,” she tittered, clamping her legs around him.
Abandoning their dinner, he marched off to his bedroom with her impaled on his pulsing length. At the rate they were going, if he had to make a guess, the lasagna could serve as a midnight snack or, at worst, an unconventional breakfast. Striding off to his bedroom with her, he steeled himself for what he felt certain would be a long, relatively sleepless night.
…
The sound of his ringing desk bell shook him from his slumber, causing him to shakily push himself up and rub his eyes. Good lord, though the vague memories of what he and Mayor Mare had done gave him a bit of comfort, being woken up at the crack of dawn, while having a small headache, was not what he’d call an ideal way to start the day.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, doing his best not to disturb his guest, he got to his feet, slipped into a t-shirt and shorts, then shuffled out of his room. One of the shittiest things about owning an inn was that anyone could come at any hour, making sleeping at any hour a gamble, yet it was exceedingly rare for someone to come so early - for fuck’s sake, the sun wasn’t even up yet. Rounding the corner and into his office, he scratched his back.
“Can I help…” the words died in his throat, as he spotted who had come for a visit.
Ms. Harshwhinny stood in front of the counter, bearing her signature displeased look, and watched him approach. “About time you got here. I’ve been waiting for nearly ten minutes.”
“Sorry,” he groused, stifling a yawn, “I just got up. What brings you back to town?”
“This,” she flatly stated, presenting him with a letter. “Congratulations.”
Though he was a bit hungover, sore, and disheveled, he quirked a brow as he took the envelope from her grasp. “What’s this?”
“The results,” she replied, turning and trotting to the exit. As she reached the door, she paused and looked back. “Just so you know, I’ve taken the liberty to advertise your services. You’re welcome.”
Seeing her leave, wondering what in the hell she was talking about, he tore open the envelope, pulled out a slip of paper, and felt his blood run cold. What he’d hoped was a bonus or maybe a thank you letter was anything but. Reading and rereading the form, his heart pounding in his ears, he was brought back to two lines over and over again.
Name: Mrs. Harshwhinny
Pregnancy Test: Positive