Sweet Apple Acres was deserted when I finally got home. I let myself in, crept slowly past where Granny was sleeping in her rocking chair, and drew myself a bath. I found some of Apple Bloom’s bubble bath soaps, and settled myself in for a long soak. I had to get the sweat off my ass, the mare shit off my dick, and the fuzz out of my head.
Things were pretty bad. I didn’t think I could salvage everything. So what did I need? I needed to make sure everything thing was okay with AJ, first of all. Couldn’t run the farm without her. I’d made a fool of Cheerilee, and I had to try and figure out a way to make it up to her. Reckoned the engagement was off, no matter what I did, though. Caramel… well, that was my broken heart. Not his.
I slid down further in the bath, until just my nostrils and eyes were out of the water. Things just kept going round and round in my head, and at some point, I drifted off.
“Get out of there before you drown, you damn fool.” Applejack was standing over me, shaking her head.
“Eyup,” I mumbled, blinking the sleep out of my eyes.
Applejack turned to go. “Get dried up. It’s almost dinner time.”
“AJ?” I rumbled, pulling myself up out of the tub with wrinkled hooves.
“Yeah, Big Brother?”
“We gotta talk.”
Applejack nodded. “After dinner. Bring your tools.”
———
A cool breeze had begun to blow. I got to hoping the weather was about to change for the better. When we left the orchard and moved out into open fields, I could see tiny black dots darting around a massive bank of storm clouds. The pegasi were cooking up a big one. I don’t see why they don’t just do things the easy way and have the weather be nice all the time. But I kind of missed my chance to ask Rainbow Dash about it, didn’t I?
Applejack and I walked in silence. One thing I like about my sister, she doesn’t waste words. It was pretty clear where we were headed.
Last year, the Turnip Trucks fell on some hard times when Pa Neep came down with the strangles, and AJ and I had put our heads together to see how we could help. We’d finally settled on buying a parcel of land from them — a few acres of fallow land that needed a lot of work before it could be used to grow much of anything. Pa Neep got the medicine he needed, the family pulled through, and they’d harvested a bumper crop of turnips from the land they had left.
My tools rattled in my saddlebags as we walked past fields of brambles marked off by rotting fences until we crested a low rise.
“What do you think?” asked Applejack.
I frowned. Below us the river split to go around a low hill. On that hill was a tumble of wood and rot that used to be a cabin. I squinted. What was left of the roof hung in shreds from the rafters. Any windows that weren’t broken were gone entirely, and I could see through the gaping opening where the door used to be that grass and weeds were growing inside.
“Looks like shit, huh?” said Applejack.
“Eyup.”
AJ nodded. “I’ve had a look at it, though, and It’s got good bones. With a bit of effort, someone could fix it up nice. Might make a good wedding present for Caramel and What’s-His-Name, when it was done.” She grinned up at me. “Unless you think a good, hearty butt fuckin’ would suffice.”
My eyes bugged out of my head. I looked at her sideways, without moving my head. “Um, nope?”
AJ chuckled at me. “Do you really think I didn’t know, Big Brother?”
I hung my head. “Nope.”
Applejack nudged me in the shoulder. “Being bisexual in’t nothing to be ashamed of.”
I grunted and shivered at that word. It was just a five bit way to say ‘coltcuddler’.
“Now, lying to Cheerilee, that was something you ought to be ashamed of.”
“Eyup.”
“But what’s done is done.”
“Why didn’t you tell her?” I rumbled.
Applejack raised an eyebrow at me. “You mean ’cause I’m the Element of Honesty? That’s just civic duty. It’s important, but family comes first. Now, I had to be careful never to catch you in the act. Or to talk to Cheerilee too much, so I didn’t let something slip. But you know, for you, it’s worth it.” She bumped her shoulder up against my side and smirked at me. “The question is, why didn’t you tell her?”
I grunted. Was this cabin upriver or downriver from the beaver dam? That could be a pretty serious issue.
“Macintosh,” said Applejack warningly.
“Nope.”
“Macintosh.”
“Fine. I didn’t tell her ’cause I was ashamed. And I was scared what would happen.”
Applejack gave me that smug I-didn’t-learn-anything-I-was-right-all-along look. I hate that look. “And not tellin’ her worked out great for you, didn’t it?”
“Sis?”
“Yeah, Big Brother?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
She laughed. “Okay, well, get to work.” She turned to go, pausing to kick me once in the rump. “I’m serious. Get on it. Caramel’s gonna be back in a couple of days.”
I walked down to the cabin. There were some big rocks in the river that let me keep my hooves dry on the way across, but they’d be under water in a heavy rain. A little bridge would be a nice feature, but it was a low priority until I got the violets out of the living room. I walked around the house, checking the structural beams, most of which were open to easy view. Applejack was right. They were in good shape. The foundation looked solid, too. I could do this. I’d need cartloads of supplies, but first I’d need to take a mess of measurements.
I unhooked my saddlebags and set to work.
———
I put off visiting Cheerilee until the next evening. I admit I just wanted to leave it forever. I’d fucked up, and I’d fucked up good. I didn’t feel like asking for forgiveness. I wasn’t totally sure I deserved it. But I had to try to make things right. It was the Apple family way, after all.
Cheerilee lived in a small, rented cottage near where the library used to be. I sat down in front of it. I like to think I’m a brave pony, but in all honesty, I was too scared to knock on her door. Maybe if I had some kind of portable phonograph, I could play a dramatic love song on it and get her attention that way. But I don’t even know where I’d get something like that.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. It started to rain.
I was good and soaked by the time Cheerilee thought to look out her window. She rushed to the door, and waved me inside.
“Macintosh.”
“Cheerilee.” We stood there awkwardly, carefully at the very edge of each other’s personal space. I dripped on her carpet.
“Go get dried off. Would you like some coffee?”
“Eyup.”
As I toweled off in her bathroom, I thought maybe we could be adults about this. It didn’t seem like she was too upset any more. We’d have a nice, calm discussion, and it’d all be over and we could get on with our lives.
I thumped my way into her small, cluttered kitchen and sat at her table. She put a cup of coffee, dark and sweet like I like it, in front of me, and went to a cabinet to get something. Yes, I thought, inhaling the warm, bitter scent of the coffee. Adults.
Cheerilee came to the table with a half-empty fifth of Buck Daniels clutched in her mouth. She poured a couple of shots’ worth into her own coffee cup, and pushed the bottle across the table towards me with her hoof. “Help yourself. There’s plenty more where that came from.”
I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the rain creep through my body. This was bad. I glanced at her trash can, and saw that it was filled with used tissues and empty pints of that ice cream she likes, the chocolate kind with little crunchy chocolate fish and marshmallow in it. I gulped. This was really bad.
“So,” said Cheerilee, in a tone like she was sitting down with a problem foal, “what do you have to say for yourself?”
———
Two hours later, we were still going at it. At some point we’d given up on any pretext of coffee, and were just taking turns slugging shots straight from our second bottle of Buck.
“You are so unbelievably obtuse!”
I squinted at Cheerilee, so that there would be only one of her. She wouldn’t stop drifting around my field of vision, though. You’d think coffee and alcohol would make you calm but alert. Instead, I felt jittery, tired and confused. “Nope.”
“Are. You. Gay?” She thumped her hoof on the table with each word, for emphasis.
“I don’t see how this is important. This is about us. Not me being a damn coltcuddler.” I get a lot more talky, when I’m drunk. It’s one of the reasons I don’t drink much hard liquor. The other bein’ the notorious Apple family reunion of ’98. The less said about that the better.
“It is tremendously important. Because I still don’t know if you actually care about me or not.”
I sighed. “I care about you.”
“So you’re bisexual,” she said, glaring at me.
“I told you, and I told you, I ain’t no coltcuddler.” I hunched down defensively.
Cheerilee leaned forward, hooking a hoof around the bottle and dragging it towards herself. “But you cuddle colts.” She took a shot.
“I don’t cuddle ’em. I fuck ’em.”
“Are your bodies pressed close together while you do it?” She held up the bottle, tilting it to see how much was left. We were running low.
I flushed, and looked down at my hooves. “Eyup.”
“That counts as cuddling!” She slammed the bottle back down on the table. “And I honestly don’t see what’s wrong with it. If that’s what you’re into. I mean, take Braeburn. He’s a pillar of his community. A pony of sterling moral character. Kind of an idiot, and his voice could curdle cream, but still, basically a good pony. And he’s gayer than Hearth’s Warming Eve.”
I tried to reply. I suddenly found my tongue was dry. My voice cracked. I fumbled for the whiskey bottle.
Cheerilee examined my expression closely. “Oh, my sweet Celestia. You’ve fucked Braeburn.”
“Not while you and I were together,” I managed to croak.
“In this specific case, that is not the point. He’s your cousin. That’s disgusting!”
I glowered. “It’s not like I can get him pregnant,” I rumbled. I elected not to bring up Jonagold. Or Apple Brown Betty. Or Candy Apples. Or the reunion of '98. No point in muddying the waters, and it was all ancient history anyway.
“I don’t believe you Ponyville rednecks. In Fillydelphia they’ll throw you in jail for that!”
What could I say? My neck was definitely red. I took a big shot, and then another. At this point, it tasted like water to me. “I… I am not a good stallion. But I have been faithful to you… except for Caramel… since we started datin’.” I tried to say it with a straight face. Fluttershy and Rainbow were definitely a one time thing, and if I brought two of the Element Bearers into this, I could throw the whole town into chaos. Even Applejack understood that honesty has its limits.
“Right. So everything’s fine, then, I guess.” I could tell from her expression that everything was definitely not fine. “Well, how would you feel if I’d been sleeping with another mare?”
I shrugged. “Ain’t cheatin’, if it’s a filly. So long as you let me watch.”
She glared at me, a mouthed, “Redneck,” then finished off the bottle. “Say it. Say you’re a coltcuddler.”
“Nope.”
She sighed, and tossed the bottle towards the trash. It missed, and landed on her cat. “Fine. Okay. Then we have to talk about the other thing. About…” She paused, as if for dramatic emphasis. “About us.”
I nodded. “Eyup.”
And we sat in silence.
“Should I get another bottle of whiskey?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“You’re right, that’s a terrible idea. So…” Cheerilee leaned back, fluttered her eyelashes at me, and ran her hooves suggestively along the sides of her curvaceous barrel. “Do you want this?”
I nodded vigorously, and leapt to my hooves. My cock, instantly hard in spite of all the whiskey, nearly knocked over the table.
Cheerilee yipped, and grabbed the coffee cups before they slid over the edge. “Not right now, you idiot! In general! You’re on probation. At best.”
I sat back down. My flare was still peeking over the edge of the table. “Blowjob?” I asked, grinning hopefully.
“No! Right now I regret ever doing that for you.” She eyed the tip of my cock. “I guess we could have foregone the whole ‘are you gay’ discussion if I’d phrased the question this way to start.”
I slumped. Little Mac was still admiring the chandeliers, though. You just can’t break that little guy’s spirit. “Cheerilee,” I said, “I am really sorry I lied to you. I love you so much, and I’d be honored to be your husband. I’d love it if you were my only mare, forever. But…” I took a deep breath, “I don’t know if I can stay away from the colts. So maybe we should go our separate ways.”
Cheerilee folded her forelegs on the table, and put her head down on them. “What if I told you I was considering — only considering — marrying you anyway?”
I squinted at her. “I’d say you were drunk.”
“I know. But what if?”
“What about the colts?”
Cheerilee ruffled her mane. “I’m still thinking about that part.”
I sighed, and rubbed a hoof through my mane. “You know us Apples ain’t rich. I’ve been trying to save up for the kind of wedding you want, but I’m just not getting anywhere.”
Cheerilee rubbed her eyes. Moisture trickled down her cheeks. “I… I admit that in that, and that alone, I’ve been really, really selfish. As a filly, I was always dreaming about my perfect, princess wedding, and how everypony I know would be there, and how I’d lose my virginity on my wedding night, and…” She clutched her hooves to her muzzle, stifling a sob. “…I was so afraid that it wouldn’t be special enough that I just made it impossible for us to actually do.”
“Eyup,” I mumbled, “but there are different kinds of special. Caramel and his guy went to Las Pegasus, got married in a chapel or something there.”
Cheerilee looked up over her tearstained hooves. “You’re saying we should elope?” I couldn’t read her expression.
“Eyup. And then later, when we’re doing a little better, we can have a huge party for everyone we know. Just like you imagined. Then that night, we’ll pretend you’re still a virgin.”
Cheerilee leapt across the table at me, hooves going straight for my neck. I’d said something wrong, and she was going to strangle me. I knew I could never raise a hoof to her, so if she wanted to kill me, then it was over. I made my peace with the void as she landed on me and knocked me to the floor.
“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you!” she squealed, lips pressing into my neck and cheek fur over and over. “That’s a wonderful idea!” She sat up, straddling my chest. “Or at least, I think it’s a good idea. But I’m very, very drunk right now. Maybe we should write this down?”
“Eyup,” I rumbled, looking down at her, suddenly very aware of the weight of her plump haunches on my chest. My cock, which had started to get droopy, stiffened again, the flare ramming roughly into her plot. I began to sweat.
Something was wrong with this. It was really, really wrong to take advantage of a drunk mare, wasn’t it? Especially one whose deepest dream was to lose her virginity on her wedding night. I began to sweat, and not in a good way. “Why don’t you go get some paper?”
“I should,” she purred, fluffing my thick chest fur with a delicate hoof, “but maybe first, we should see if we’re really sexually compatible.” She cocked her hips back, sliding the curve of one of her jiggly ass cheeks against the flare of my cock.
“That was what the oral sex was for, remember?” I gulped.
“Oh, oral sex,” Cheerilee purred, tapping her chin as though she had just remembered that was a thing that existed. “What a marvelous idea,” she said, slowly sliding her pussy forward across my chest, leaving a trail of wetness in its wake.
That was it. I either had to take control of the situation, or lose my ability to look at myself in the mirror forever. I heaved to my hooves, effortlessly catching Cheerilee in my forelegs, and tossing her, squealing, onto my back. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Well, at least the hardest thing I’d done since saying ‘no’ to a second, sober crack at reunion ’23.
“That was fun,” she giggled, “do it again!” I snorted. Everypony’s Pinkie Pie when they’re drunk.
I wobbled, making absolutely sure I knew which direction the floor was, and headed for her bedroom. When I got to the bedroom door, I froze, stunned by what I saw on her bed.
“I found your doll,” Cheerilee giggled in my ear, her breath tickling the tiny, sensitive hairs there. Then she licked my ear. I wished she’d stop making this so difficult.
I pulled back her covers with my teeth, and gently helped her into bed. Then I tucked her in, up to her chin, and pushed Smarty Pants in under the covers next to her.
“You really can sleep here, if you want,” Cheerilee mumbled, her big green eyes fluttering closed.
“Nope,” I rumbled, kissing her on the cheek.
She rolled over onto her side, and wrapped her forelegs around Smarty Pants. “You are a good stallion.”
“I ain’t,” I said, and stumbled out of her house, locking the door behind me.
The rain had stopped. The air was cold, and damp, but I felt warm inside. All the whiskey, probably.
I set off for home.
My talk with Cheerilee had gone… well, better than I’d hoped. If we still agreed on the wedding plan in the morning, then everything would be perfect. Of course, there was still Caramel to deal with. But that should be no problem at all, after this.
Right?