Maternal Mayhem

by Some Leech

Hot and Fresh

Trudging up to the front door, digging into his pocket to grab his keys, Anon groaned to himself. Another day, another handful of bits - at least that’s what he told himself when he was working the fryer at the Hayburger down the street. Part of his integration into Equestrian society was to maintain a job, though he wished like hell he hadn’t ended up flipping tofu burgers and slinging sweet potato fries.

The moment he saw himself inside, he was stricken by an ambrosial smell that caused his stomach to growl. While he hadn’t been hungry after finishing his shift, the recognizable scent of baked confections gave him an instant change of heart. He stopped just inside the door, placing his keys on the table and shoes by the entryway, and looked in the direction of the kitchen.

“Mom?” he shouted.

“I’m in the kitchen, sweetie!” she called back.

A smile graced his lips as he strolled through the living room. It was still pretty weird that Leech insisted he call her mom, but her overwhelming maternal energy made the small task a trivial affair. She routinely made him breakfasts, she almost always packed him lunch when he had work, and he couldn’t think of a time when she didn’t cook dinner for the two of them.

Meandering into the kitchen, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. “Am I smelling brownies or -”

“Chocolate chip cookies!” she chirped, turning on her heel to present a tray of steaming, chocolate chip delectables. “I just took them out of the oven.”

On any other day, the discovery of hot, delicious treats would have lifted his spirits and made him forget all about the grueling shift he’d just endured - regrettably, he couldn’t have cared less about the confections. Like a deer in the headlights, he stared over at the massive mare. As his eyes wandered up and down her voluptuous frame, his brain struggled to process what in the hell was going on.

Heedless or uncaring of his shock, cheerfully humming to herself without a care in the world, she stepped over to the kitchen table, placed the sheet of cookies on a trivet, and beamed over at him. “They’re still hot, but I’ll get you a glass of milk anyways. I know you wouldn’t listen if I told you to wait for them to cool off.”

It wasn’t until she’d turned away from him, displaying her bare back and ass, that he finally found himself able to speak. “Why the hell are you naked?!”

Looking over at him, she pursed her lips. “What are you talking about? I’m not naked!”

“Like hell you’re not!” he spat.

She knit her brow and shifted to face him. “I am not naked!”

Though she was only correct on a technicality, he couldn’t fathom why she was traipsing about wearing nothing but an apron - an apron that, by some tender mercy, only just covered groin while doing nothing to hide her generous backside. It was only by luck or some higher power that her ample bust was veiled by the article, her breasts practically spilling out from either side of the garment, yet that somehow made her appearance all the more slatternly. Rubbing his temples and turning his gaze down to the floor, he shook his head.

“Ok, you’re not naked,” he admitted, “but why are you just wearing an apron?”

“Because I’m doing laundry in the middle of the summer,” she matter-of-factly replied.

He lifted a finger to protest, to tell her how absurd her logic was, but she’d made a good point - two good points, in fact. One of the very mixed blessings about Equestria was the world’s lack of technology. On one hand, it was a blessing to live in a land without social media and its constant, oftentimes infuriating distractions - on the other, things like high-speed internet, air conditioners, and all but the most crude video games were nonexistent.

His thoughtful consternation cost him dearly, leaving him completely off guard for when a slender finger slipped under his chin and turned his face upward. As he peered up at her, past her rack and into her caring, glimmering eyes, his mouth went dry. In spite of her age, size, and glaring lack of inhibitions, she really was a sweet woman.

She smiled down at him, her cat-like eyes moving down his chest, as she leaned forward and took hold of the hem of his shirt. “Lift your arms for mommy, dear.”

Acting without thinking, obeying her like a well-trained child, he began to do as she asked - that was before he grasped what he was doing. He lept back and away from her, saving himself from being undressed, and scowled. It wasn’t the first time she’d tried to get him out of his clothes, and it likely wouldn’t be the last, which made such bizarre occurrences doubly irritating.

“I’m not stripping for you!” he protested, crossing his arms over his chest.

Rolling her eyes, yet smiling all the same, she snickered. “Honestly, I don’t see what the big deal is! It’s hotter than Tartarus, you’re sweating like a pig, and this heatwave isn’t going to break for at least another week! Why don’t you just relax and enjoy the air on her fur - er -skin?”

“Because it’s embarrassing?” he countered. “You don’t see other ponies going around in the buff ~ do you?”

She dismissively waved a hand in his direction. “No, but that’s their loss - besides, I’m in my -”

“Our,” he hastily corrected. “You’re in our house.”

“Fine,” she conceded. “I’m in our house, so it’s not like anypony has to look at me.”

Her flippant nonchalance was and casual nudity was nothing new, yet he feared he’d never become fully desensitized to it. On more than one occasion, he’d bumped into her after she’d taken a shower, being blessed and/or cursed with seeing everything she had to bear, and she showed no signs of curtailing her actions on his account. Seeing a smug grin split her muzzle, watching her inch closer, he thrust out a hand to defend himself.

“I know you’d be more comfortable if you took those dirty clothes off,” she hummed.

Inching back, only then noticing that one of nipples was perilously close to slipping from beneath the apron, he shielded his eyes. “I really, really wouldn’t…”

“Your loss,” she sighed. “Back when I was your age, in weather like this, it wasn’t uncommon for me to lounge around wearing nothing at all.”

He balked and stared up at her. “Weren’t you homeless for most of your life though?”

“I preferred to think of myself as a vagabond,” she noted, straightening up and looking wistfully out the kitchen window, “but yes.”

While he’d understood what she’d said, that didn’t make her claim believable by any means. He’d only been in Equestria for a relatively short period of time, but he’d adjusted to their society easily enough. For all intents and purposes, the walking, talking ponies acted very similarly to humans, with essentially the same morals and societal norms, which meant one of two things - either she was full of bologna or she was even more unabashed than he’d initially thought.

“If, and that’s a really big if, that’s true, how did you not get in trouble?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

She laughed and flashed her teeth at him, displaying canines that were a bit too prominent for an herbivore. “Who said I didn’t get in trouble?”

Compelled to see how deep the rabbit hole went, he squinted at her face. “And you didn’t stop doing it ~ did you?”

“Nope!” she proudly exclaimed, looking far more proud than she had any right to be. “Honey, I wasn’t always this - ahem - hefty. When I was younger, I could outrun most pegasi - that and most ponies couldn’t navigate woods or storm sewers nearly as well as I could. Life on the streets wasn’t easy, but I wouldn’t be as crafty as I am today without it.”

“I…huh…” he grunted, nonplussed. “So you’re telling me that you’d just run away if anyone tried to stop you from being a nudist?”

Readjusting her ponytail, the cloth over her chest doing everything in its power to keep her bosoms concealed, she nodded. “Mmmhmm - well mostly. There were a few times when royal guards, specifically mares, were able to catch me, but I never, ever had a problem getting away from the stallions.”

Moments from pressing her for the details, he clamped his mouth shut. No - there was no way he was going to ask how or why she was able to elude stallions with ease. She’d alluded to her wild youth enough to give him a pretty decent picture on what she could have done to avoid punishment for her transgressions, and he definitely didn’t want to hear any details that may sully his already dubious view of her.

She bent forward at the waist, her gargantuan breasts hanging against the apron, as her pupils shrank to razored slits. “You want to know how I did it ~ don’t you?”

He gulped, sweating from more than just the oppressive heat. Damn her - damn her keen instincts and the way she could see through him at times. She was like some sort of idiot savant, struggling with simple tasks while being insightful to the point of brilliance. Realizing she wasn’t going to let the matter lie, now that she’d sensed his interest, he cleared his throat.

“I do,” he stated, “but only if it’s nothing dirty.”

Standing tall and tittering like a school filly, portions of her jiggling with her mirth, she swung around and trotted over to the fridge. “It should be obvious,” she began, giving her tush a playful smack. “With a tush like this, it’s hard for any straight stud not to trip over themselves.”

Watching a shockwave roll over the soft cheeks of her big, juicy rump, he tore his eyes off her. Though he’d never spoken a word of it to anyone, there’d been times when he wondered what their relationship would be like if things had been a bit different. If she was a bit younger, or maybe if he’d been older, perhaps she wouldn’t look at him like a son - instead, she might consider him a…

He quietly growled and forced himself to turn away, tormented once again by blissful musings and what ifs. She’d never once shown any sort of romantic interest in him, only sparingly teasing him while fawning over him the majority of the time, and he didn’t want to threaten the wholesome, albeit strange relationship they had. For as much of a royal pain in the ass as she was, he truly did respect and appreciate her.

“I’m going to take a shower -” he huffed, storming out of the kitchen, “a cold shower.”

After quickly closing the refrigerator, she followed along after him. “Would you like some company? Being around that oven has made me -”

“No,” he cut her off, whipping around and thrusting a finger up at her. “There isn’t enough room in the shower for both of us.”

“Please,” she whined. Fanning her apron, setting her bust to sway with every motion of the article, she wiped her face with her free hand. “I’ve been cooking all afternoon, I vacuumed and dusted, and I’m drenched in sweat. A nice, cool shower would be the perfect way to cool off and spend some time with you.”

Lascivious notions, things that kept him up deep into the night, beset his beleaguered mind. There were several things they could do in the shower, and they were all questionable at best. Simply being naked together would put a monumental strain on his psyche and barely-kept impulses, like dangling a bone in front of a starving dog, so it would be in both of their best interests if he abstained.

Glancing at the valley of her bust, using all of his strength to avoid looking at the flapping fabric over her crotch, he spun away. “How about this - once I have a quick shower, I’ll set the table.”

Stomping up behind him, she grabbed his shoulders and brought him to an abrupt halt. “Not good enough…”

With his blood running cold, he craned his neck and peered up and back at her. “It…it’s not?”

“Not even close,” she muttered. “If you want to shower by yourself, you’ll have to do something for me.”

He couldn’t get away even if he wanted to. Between her inordinate size and stunning strength, the only way he could leave was when she let him leave. Her fingers ran over his shoulders and to the base of his neck, her thumbs digging into his upper back to knead some tension from his taut muscles, while she held him firmly. It was only by the grace of some higher power that she couldn’t see the front of him - specifically the tent forming in his pants.

“W…what do you want?” he stammered.

“A promise,” she continued. “You help with the dishes tonight, but tomorrow we’re going to go on a little trip together.”

His pulse spiked, a subtle tremor crept into his knees, and his thoughts began to race. She knew his schedule and was aware that he was off from work for the next two days, but she couldn’t possibly have planned to rope him into an excursion of some sort ~ could she? Good-natured and affectionate though she was, she wasn’t the type to plan things in advance - or so he’d been led to believe.

The tips of her digits slid under his collar, gracing the skin of his chest, while she leaned over and locked eyes with him. “We’re going to the pool tomorrow. Given this dreadful heat, having a bit of fun in the sun will help us both relax ~ alright?”

“A…alright,” he mumbled, her breasts acting like the biggest, softest earmuffs he could ever imagine.

No sooner did he agree than she withdrew, skipping back to the kitchen. “Perfect! I already picked out the perfect bathing suit and everything!”

There were times in his life when his intuition kicked into high gear, when some survival instinct told him that something bad was going to happen - this was, without question, one of those times. Skulking away and into the bathroom, taking care to shut and lock the door behind himself, he gradually started to undress himself. While his common sense told him that a simple trip to the community pool couldn’t possibly yield disastrous results, he was absolutely, one-hundred percent certain that he was going to regret the promise he’d just made…

Comments

[Dude3]

He lifted a finger to protest, to tell her how absurd her logic was, but she’d made a good point

i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/001/391/129/4e3.jpg

This story is awesome. It's just so good.

[Bryan Luna]

You know, somewhere, deep inside me I knew. I knew under all those ridiculous sexcapades, and craziness, I knew, that Leech was a total sweetheart.

[Rob_Rhapsody]

Nice!