> A Lady Never Tells > by Abramus5250 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > ...But She May Squeal > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The wooden door to the dorm room L138 slowly opened that afternoon, the light from the halls casting a golden aura around the lone figure in the doorway. Absolutely dripping with sweat and with her long ponytail a complete mess, the disheveled cowgirl slowly dragged herself along, seemingly operating on instinct rather than conscious thought or effort. “I take it finals went well?” a voice politely asked. “Mmm,” grunted Applejack in reply, kicking her boots off onto the rug and shutting the door behind her. “So tired.” It was as if every muscle in her aching body had been bludgeoned to the point of outright refusing to move, but somehow she had made it back here without collapsing. “Ah,” Rarity replied, gazing over from where she sat, wrapped up in an outfit consisting of fashionable sweatpants, a long-sleeved shirt emblazoned with their school insignia, and a pair of woolen booties covering up her feet. A cup of tea sat on the small table next to her on the small glass coffee table, and the book in her lap was propped open, with a rather elegant-looking notebook alongside it: Rarity was always somehow the perfect example of how one could study and still look good doing it. “So, do you think you passed?” “Fer sure I did,” the southern belle drawled, dropping her backpack next to the couch and simply slumping onto the cushions face-first. “My dear, you’re all sweaty,” Rarity said simply, taking a sip of her tea. “Shouldn’t you take a shower first?” It didn’t really sound like a question, more of a request, but then again, Rarity rarely asked for much other than general cleanliness from her roommate. That, and no loud music; she simply detested it. “I’ll get to that in a bit,” came the reply, although, due to the muffling effect of a throw pillow, it sounded more like “hhhgtthtnabt”. The aspiring designer simply shook her head. “Well, how do you think you did?” She had no doubt in her mind that her roommate had passed, but Rarity wanted to know how she felt on the matter. Applejack rolled over slightly, just enough to free her face from the confines of the couch pillow. “I did just fine, I said. Mighta messed up a little on the written test, but I fer sure aced the practical.” “Well, growing up on a farm like you did would surely help prepare you for any physical kind of test in your field,” Rarity replied. “Although I must say, I always thought many of the aspects of the equine sciences would be a bit less... hands-on.” The farmer blew an errant bit of her hair out of her face. “Not if ya want to know what the real world is like, Rares. Not everythin’s memorizin’ facts or figures or recitin’ the scientific names o’ stuff. A lot of it’s hard work, plain and simple, and I know all about that, thanks to Ma and Pa.” Still, moving all those pieces of equipment around, showing her professor exactly where they were supposed to go... why didn’t they have heavy machinery for this kind of thing, like back at home? Or was this some way of weeding out the weaker ones? “So... I take it you’re nervous about your next exam, then?” “Chemistry is gonna be the death of me, I swear it,” Applejack groaned. “Mixin’ and matchin’ all those equations, memorizin’ the formulas, tryin’ ta recall stuff on ions and anions... it’s all a bunch of malarkey if ya ask me.” “Five years in, and you still think that way? Well, that “malarkey” is a required course for you to graduate next semester and go on to grad school, and right now, you should really get some studying in,” Rarity said. “Right after you take a shower and clean up, of course. I can smell you from here.” “Thanks fer yer concern, Rares, but I just... I just need ta rest for a bit,” the farmer replied, removing her Stetson hat and setting aside. “Five years o’ college is finally startin’ ta get to me. I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night, stayin’ up late fer exams and all that junk.” “Was that the only reason?” her roommate asked, arching an eyebrow. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve been busy with other activities.” “Yeah, so? Ain’t I allowed a bit of free time now and then, like y’all?” “May I inquire which ones? I try and make it a point to not let my extracurricular activities interfere with my classwork.” “Not like I haven’t heard that one before, and every time ya say it, I know it ain’t the full truth. Besides, what have ya heard?” “Oh, nothing much,” Rarity replied, setting down her tea and closing her textbook. “Just that you have rarely been seen alone anymore, and that your man is never far from your side. You don’t really hang out with our friends anymore, or at least, not like you used to.” “So?” “So... don’t you think that your boyfriend is a bit, I don’t know, distracting to you? You seem almost out of it whenever you and I try and talk about it, or whenever you start talking about him. I have to say I’m slightly concerned, Applejack.” “I think he’s fine right where he is, and that’s with me,” the cowgirl retorted. Rarity was one to talk, with all the boyfriends she had had since damn middle school. Applejack had not even managed a single date until her man asked her on one after his high school graduation. Then again, her big brother was intimidating to almost everyone, so the fact that Spike of all people had asked her out had shown he truly was courageous. “Besides, he’s been helpin’ me study a whole lot on stuff I don’t know, or at least, stuff I didn’t know; bein’ a tutor is a good side gig for him, anyways.” “Hmm, studying, eh? I wouldn’t have thought of him as one, but then again, growing up with Twilight would surely put anyone on the fast track to learning.” The edges of her lips curved upwards ever-so-slightly, and while her overall expression did not change, it did somehow take on an air of... well, smugness. “I know that look, Rares, I’ve seen it plenty o’ times before,” Applejack said. “What’re ya thinkin’?” “Oh, nothing much, though then again, I could say the same about you whenever Spike is around,” was the reply, followed by that growing smirk. “So, what has he been helping you better understand?” “Shucks, school stuff, like physics and other things. I mean, come on, calculus is hard, yet somehow he just gets it. Twilight’s book smarts musta really rubbed off on him, I guess. Either that, or it’s his ancestry: drake-bloods always did have a thing fer science, or so I heard.” “That they did, but Spike’s heritage is not what we are talking about. Now, is there anything else he’s helping you understand? Like biology?” Rarity’s smirk grew slightly larger. “Yeah, that too. So?” Applejack didn’t like the way her friend was smiling at the word “biology”. “It’s not an easy class ta begin with, and these level 300 and 400 courses are tougher than nails, and about as unforgiving as one that just went through yer foot.” “Human anatomy?” That damn smirk grew even bigger, and while the farmer was not sure why just yet, she already hated it. “Yeah, a bit here or there.” “Lov-,” “Okay, all right, just stop right there missy!” Applejack interjected, ready to toss a pillow at that blasted smirk as she pointed at her roommate. “This is gettin’ off hand. Besides, that’s none of yer business, and y’all know it.” “Oh, but Applejack, we are roommates; there is little you do that escapes my eventual attention,” the aspiring designer said simply. “Besides, what are friends for, other than to share our secrets with?” “I’m fine with a lot of the secrets I already got, thank you very much,” she huffed in reply. “Besides, that sort of stuff is private, on a need-ta-know basis, and y'all don't need ta know.” “Oh, come now, I’m sure it’s not all that bad,” Rarity replied, setting her things aside and pulling her legs up underneath her on the chair. “There ain’t nothin’ bad about it, for your information,” the farmer said, sitting up on the couch. “I just don’t like talkin’ about it with strangers, or you, fer that matter. Goodness knows our friends will know before the semester is out if I tell ya, and winter break starts in only a week. Spike don’t need that kind of stuff floatin’ around about him, I got a hard enough time as it is keepin’ the younger girls in class away from him. Buncha homewreckers if ya ask me...” Seriously, he was clearly taken: why did they find it so thrilling to flirt with him so often, even if she was right there next to him? If that slight remark on her gossiping nature stung at all, Rarity did not visibly react to it. “Oh, I’m sure with your experience you might think that, but Applejack, dear, but Spike is a handsome young man now, and the girls closer to his age are finally starting to take notice: some of the older ones too, I’d imagine, but we both know he’s far too loyal to you to let anything happen between him and anyone else. Besides, if he’s the only one you’ve ever... you know...” “Yeah, so what if he is? I ain’t got a problem with him bein’ the only one ta do that ta me.” “Then how do you know he’s any good?” “I know plenty well Spike’s good.” His sexy smirk made her lady parts quiver all the damn time, and more than once she had gotten more than a little antsy when sitting in class when he had smiled over at her. That impish smile as a youngin' had grown into a devilish grin, the kind that made it very easy for him to attract her attention. “You might think that, but how can you be sure? It’s not like you have much in the way of, well, experience to compare, now do you?” The pillow missed the fashionista by about an inch, yet she didn’t even flinch as it landed behind her. Rarity was more or less used to it by now: Applejack’s tendency to toss things when she got flustered or angry had already cost them one toaster, three cereal bowls and countless pens this year, though thankfully none of those had been directed at Rarity herself. Thankfully the farmer had greatly calmed down from previous years, though the bills their parents had received then had likely been somewhat confusing ones. “I don’t need no comparison.” Applejack’s face blushed slightly; she knew very well that the reason for her lack of “experience” had been the wisdom drummed into her by her parents, or at least, the know-how of when the time was right to engage in such an “activity”. Granted, she had been nervous as all hell when it happened, but then again, so had he, even more than her, yet neither regretted it nor the many, many times afterward. Besides, just because he had been her first, and so far, only, that didn’t mean he was bad, right? “Well, please, enlighten me,” Rarity said, appearing barely interested yet at the same time seemingly dying to know. She had a way of doing that to people: draw them in with her apparent aloof nature and then get them to spill their secrets to her like their life depended on it. “How is he?” She was only curious, as she knew that Spike’s crush on her at a young age had eventually petered out, something she was glad for. It really was good for him to have gone out and tried his hand elsewhere: she just hadn’t expected him to so quickly fall in with Applejack, or for the farmer to reciprocate his feelings so deeply. “Umm.... good.” “Good?” “Yeah, good.” “Just... good?” “Well, when y’all put it like that... no, he’s not good,” Applejack muttered. To her, Rarity seemed a bit too invested in this to simply want to know rather than idle curiosity, but she had nothing better to do until she took her shower, so she might as well... indulge her. Perhaps just a little bit; it couldn't hurt, right? “He’s... better.” “Better than good?” Rarity asked. “So... great?” “Yeah, you might say that,” the farmer replied. “Although...” “Better than great? Applejack, surely you jest,” was her roommate’s reply. “I know he’s a few years our junior, yet you’re telling me he’s great or even better than great?” “Like ya said, I don’t have the most... experience ta draw from, but I’m tellin’ ya, he just... he knows what he’s doin’, alright? Like I said before, might be that heritage pokin’ through some more or somethin’.” Twilight had sorta warned Applejack when she had first started dating Spike that drake-bloods were notorious for being able to subtly pick up on skills from their ancestors, and while Spike certainly had no memories of his actual parents before he was lovingly adopted into Twilight’s family, it was rumored his grandfather had been quite the Casanova in his time. “So... he’s your first, but you might not be his?” Rarity guessed. “Nah, I know fer sure that I was his first too,” the farmer said. “Besides, it wasn’t all that great in the beginnin’, but he sure picked up on stuff quickly.” She didn’t need to mention that the first few times, while still a bit awkward for the two of them, had been really, really good. Or at least, in her opinion, which in this case was all that really mattered. “So, then, you two must... practice quite a bit for him to be as “proficient” as you say,” her roommate replied. “... ya might say that,” Applejack said, a blush creeping onto her face like a severe sunburn. “I ain’t sayin’ exactly how much, but...” “But enough to know that you like it,” Rarity responded. “Well then, if he is as skilled as you say, then, if he’s anything like the suitors I myself have... occasionally indulged in, then I’m sure he is trying to compensate.” “Compensate?” the farmer repeated. “Compensatin’ fer what?” “Well, I mean, if he’s really that good, then more often than not, in my experience at least, he’s not all that... impressive,” Rarity said simply. “Impressive?” “Yes, impressive. You know, in the... physical department.” Applejack shook her head. “Rarity, I don’t know where ya got it in yer head that the physical part is what makes it so good. I mean, come on, not everyone can be.... wait a minute, what exactly do you mean by “physical department” now? He’s in pretty good shape fer his age, even if he’s a bit skinny.”Whenever he came to visit her over the holidays, Applejack made sure he had second helpings of whatever they were eating. Must have been that heritage of his again, something about higher metabolism, because whatever the case, Applejack knew that Spike did not put on weight as easily as others, but in turn could lose it like it was nothing. “Not that kind,” Rarity said, motioning downwards. “Below the belt, dear. Or, should I say, under the belt, to be precise.” Applejack blinked a few times before the insinuation fully had time to sink in. “Well, what makes ya think that now?” “Well, almost any man can make a girl feel good with his “tool” if he learns how to use it just right, especially if he’s the only one she’s ever had, but the most skilled in other areas often compensate for, shall we say, shrinkage, in that department,” Rarity said. “I know I sound like I’m generalizing, and frankly I know this is likely not the case for many women out there, but it’s been that way for myself and quite a few other ladies I know. Many men learn how to make you feel good to assuage their self-battered egos for their “lack” of size, though this is by no means a bad thing. It’s just in our nature, I guess, to try and make up for something we perceive we lack, with the other side of the spectrum being women who surgically modify their bodies for “beauty”. Besides, penis size varies from man to man, and frankly, size should not necessarily be a deciding factor in a relationship. Sadly, though, many women are shallow enough to reject men for their “shrinkage”, and many more men are scared of entering a sexual relationship due to them perceiving themselves as having a small penis. Sad, I know, but egos count for almost everything these days, it seems.” The farmer shook her head, her friend’s words making her feel rather happy she was not a very judgmental person, or at least, wasn’t when it came to her man. “Rarity, he’s skilled because he knows me, alright? It’s got nothing to do with size or inadequacy or egos.” She paused. “Besides, we can’t go as hard as I’d like to sometimes, or at least, not at the angles I want: shifting the wrong way can hurt like hell.” Rarity blinked. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Well, you know... if during “it”, ya turn just a little too much one way, then soon enough one or both of us could be hurtin’ somethin’ mighty fierce, and have in the past,” Applejack muttered. “I get too excited sometimes, and it just ends up hurtin’ the next day if I lose control.” “So Spike’s... fairly large?” Large and in charge, yeah. “Well, yeah, I’d guess he’s a bit on the bigger size, but he’s not super huge or somethin’, mind ya,” the farmer said. “He ain’t got some... I don’t know, telephone pole or summats down there. It’s... it’s big enough, okay? Even if it was a bit bigger, it’d probably hurt too much for sex ta be fun, and then it’d just feel like work. Besides, I’m comfortable with it being as big as it is: any bigger would just be too much fer me ta handle. I just ain’t built fer takin’ anything larger is all, and I don't think most women out there are anyways.” Suddenly, she felt a buzz in her jean’s back pocket, and retrieving her phone, she saw she had gotten a text. “Speak of the devil,” she thought with a small grin, seeing Spike’s photo as the original sender of the message. Muttering something about “I gotta get this quick” to Rarity, who seemed to be lost in thought, Applejack stood up and walked away, turning into her bedroom and shutting the door. Her text read simply “What time are you free? I just got done studying for the day.” “Starting at half past five, I’m all yours,” she replied, clicking away at her phone. There was a brief pause before another message showed up. “I’ll be there. Got anything else planned? You know how much harder it is to help you study when you’re distracted with mail from home.” True, mail could do that, but all in all she’d likely be distracted by him, and he was just cocky enough to know that, but not say anything. She was so tired from today that she felt as though she wouldn’t be able to stay up much after supper, but the thought of Spike coming over, regardless of what it was for, always made her kinda... grabby, like she wanted him to be there all the time, and never really leave her side. “Not really,” she texted back. “Depends, I guess.” There was a minute-long pause before the next text arrived. “What about Rarity?” “What about her?” was her reply. A small tinge of jealousy hit her right in the heart, but it quickly faded: there was nothing behind that question other than mere curiosity. After all, Spike was with her, and from what it seemed, had eyes for only her. “Will she be there?” “Probably not, but I’ll ask her. Why?” “I always thought she didn’t like it when we study together.” Then again, with their track record, studying usually became something else rather fast, though they tended to keep it down several notches whenever Rarity or one of their friends was in close proximity. Usually: Spike knew that Fluttershy had seen the two of them making out on the couch once, but she hadn't said a word about it since. She was probably too scared to do so. “Nah, I think I can get her gone.” “Okay then, meet you for supper, sweet thing.” She smiled. “Love you too, and see you at six, sugar-cube.” “I’ll be there. Love you too, Jackie.” She knew that he knew she wasn’t terribly fond of the nickname their friends had given her, but when he said (or texted) it, it just sounded so sweet. Tucking her phone away, Applejack lifted her armpit and took a short whiff. She almost sneezed and coughed at the same time: man, she really did need to clean up. “Hey, Rarity?” she said as she quickly walked back to the living room. “Yes?” came her friend’s reply. “I’m gonna take my shower now, be out in a bit.” “Okay dear, be sure to use that extra-strength conditioner I got you.” “I will. Say, you got any... plans tonight? Like, by five thirty? I was planning on doing a little studying before I went ta bed.” Rarity blinked a few times, and while her smile by now was gone, a different kind of look was plastered across her face: understanding. “Now that you mention it, yes, I actually do. I was going to meet up with some friends and go out to the local strip-mall for some Chinese food. You want me to get you anything?” “Nah, I’ll just whip something up fer supper,” the farmer said with a shrug. “Seeya tonight, then? Late tonight?” “I guess so.” As she watched her roommate head down the hall to gather some fresh clothes, Rarity couldn’t help but shake her head. If what her friend had insinuated was true, then it was definitely time to start looking for a man of her own, this time for keeps, lest she fall behind in the game of life and be left out of her friend’s lives. She could already hear the church bells in the echoes of her mind, though she knew Applejack would flat-out deny it all on the spot if she but spoke a word of wedding dresses. So, for now, Rarity simply picked up her tea and finished it, making a mental note to lock her room before she left. She didn’t exactly want any of Applejack’s “studying” to spontaneously happen in her bedroom. A few short hours later... Applejack didn’t know how she got herself into these sorts of situations. Oh wait, yes she did know: she got herself into these situations by letting herself not care about them in the first place. Here she was, once again in the shower, though now after supper, and this time she wasn’t alone. The evening had started out so normally, too. “Mmm, that was good,” Spike had said after putting his empty bowl into the sink, hot soapy water quickly making short work of his plate’s food residue. “What did you say that was called again?” “Brunswick stew, an old family recipe,” Applejack had said as she scrubbed the baking sheet. “Didja like yer cornbread?” “Fabulous,” her boyfriend had replied. “That an old family recipe too?” “You betcha,” she had said. “Pretty much everything I try ta make is one of ours, or at least our version of someone else’s.” “It’s all fabulous too, I bet,” Spike had said, grabbing his backpack after the last of their now-clean dishes were set up to dry. “Ready to go study?” “Sure, but first things first, I gotta take another shower,” the farmer had muttered, motioning to her sweaty brow and filthy arms. “Scrubbin’ that stuff ain’t as clean as you’d think.” “Well, okay then,” her boyfriend had replied with a smile, tossing his book bag on the couch. “Come to think of it, I haven’t taken a shower since yesterday, been way too busy with studying. I’ll take one after you, if you don’t mind.” She hadn’t thought of that, but then again, any excuse for him to not have all of his clothes on when around her was always a welcome idea. So welcome, in fact, that she hadn’t even thought of letting him take a shower all alone. That’s why-, “Mmm, Spike, that feels so good,” she moaned, snapping out of her recollection as the luffa in his hands gently glided over her skin, scrubbing the grime from between her shoulder blades. She never could reach there by herself, finding it difficult even with a handle attachment. “I aim to please,” Spike muttered, the water dripping from his long bangs down onto her back. Hard to believe he had been so much shorter than her years before, but now he was so tall; puberty had indeed hit him like a bag of bricks, and it showed. Lean, leonine, almost jock-like, and yet he spent most of his time away from sports, and either in class, studying, or with her. Just not usually in the shower. Usually. “Almost done?” Applejack asked, knowing full well where this was all going. She had told Rarity they’d be studying, but she hadn’t bothered to tell her what, exactly. “Each other,” she thought, absolutely mewling as his hands caressed the small of her back. She had long ago learned he was a natural for back rubs and all things massage related, and even though she was really his only experience other than Twilight’s feet, she was so glad he was this good. She felt like putty in his hands. Trembling, giggling, soothingly relaxed and wet putty; increasingly wet putty. “Almost,” he said, gently pressing himself against her back, his warm body feeling much nicer than the cooler air of the shower. “Depends on how you want me to finish. You know I never like to leave you... unsatisfied.” “Oh, you’re such a tease, sugar,” Applejack muttered, bringing his hands up her ticklish sides and to the swell of her perky breasts, where his fingers began to earnestly tweak her already-stiff nipples. “These still need some cleanin’, ya know, before y’all can even think of finishin’.” “Oh, I think all of you still needs some cleaning, dirty girl,” her lover whispered into her ear, kissing right behind it in that one spot that just made her want to jump up and down in happiness. "Then again, with a body like yours, I bet it's hard to stay clean for long." Or thrown him to the floor and mount him like it would solve all of her problems. God she was horny. How long had it been since they’d last had sex, fifteen days? That had been two weeks too damn long. She was addicted to him, and judging from the very hard shape rubbing against her backside, he felt the same about her. “Fine, fine, I’m clean already everywhere else,” she said, spinning from his grip and resting her back against the shower stall wall. “Just one more place to shampoo up.” “Oh, I think I’ll need to rinse and repeat,” Spike said with a smirk, crossing the distance and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into a kiss. Their lips locked, one hand drifted down to her toned ass and firmly grasped one cheek, pulling her body close to his own. “Mmm, I love it when ya talk like that,” Applejack said, throwing one of her legs up and over his other arm, which he held aloft with practiced ease. Exposed, anxious, and just plain fucking horny, she looked into his eyes with a gaze that could have caused spontaneous ejaculations in lesser men: a “come hither” look straight out a dirty novel. “Take me, I’m yours,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat at the smoldering lust in his eyes, her spine trembling from the small waves of joy cascading throughout her body. “And I, yours,” he replied, and with the smallest of pauses needed to line himself up, he slipped inside her, causing them both to grunt and gasp. That feeling, of being full to the brim, of being compressed by heat and softness, it was something neither of them could ever get over feeling, no matter how many times they felt it. It was exhilarating, joyous, and... addictive; they could not get enough of it, no matter how hard they tried to resist its allure. So he began to move slowly, gingerly, gently, as always, so that neither of them would be hurt and so that it was the best for both of them. Starting slow was always the way to go: he had learned that from when they first became lovers. Applejack sighed with every steady thrust, the hot water raining down upon them an absolute ice bath compared to the heat between their bodies. Loins joined more often than not, her hilting his entire length in long, slow strokes, it was like a firestorm in her insides. Spike always loved to watch her during sex, and her him, as he made the most heart-meltingly look of lust and love whenever they did so. She had found it weird at first, but he loved looking at her: her beautiful hair splayed around her shoulders like that of angel, the way she bit her lower lip on an occasionally stronger thrust, the way she sighed when he pulled himself close to her... Spike smiled inwardly as he slowly began to pick up the pace, Applejack’s soft sighs and moans become louder and more frequent, quickly transitioning to high-pitched squeaks and squeals. The rhythmic thumping of her toned backside against the shower wall was thankfully dulled by the thick concrete walls between it and the neighbor’s own bathroom, but more than once they had gotten carried away elsewhere and been yelled at to keep it down. Spike had laughed at those times, knowing full well that Applejack was not quiet when they did this. Her breasts pressed against his chest, her thighs burning under his tight grip, her body quivering as her energy began to fade her in droves, Applejack reached up and pulled Spike down for another kiss, just as he slammed home into her one more time, all the way to the base of his perfectly-suited-for-just-her cock. She triggered right then and there, her orgasm firing off like her trusty shotgun blasting away at a clay pigeon back on the farm. Both of their lips could not maintain a seal, as she squealed loudly, her body pressing as tight as it could against her lover’s own as the air fled her lungs in a rush. Seconds later, Applejack felt a pool of warmth spread throughout her lower body: Spike had finished too. Sometimes he’d do so before her, sometimes, like now, a little after: on the rarest of occasions they climaxed together, and those days, while rare, were exceedingly wonderful. Panting as if she had just ran all the way home and back, and with Spike’s own labored grunts signifying his own exhaustion, Applejack gently pushed him away, though she really didn’t want to. It was just... a precaution. Taking the shower nozzle and extending it down, she pushed it up towards her and let it wash out her insides as best it could. Condoms in the shower were not a favorite of her, and despite it not being her time of the month, she did not want to simply risk getting pregnant. Her parents would not be happy at all, and her brother would likely try and kill Spike for doing such a thing. She couldn’t have that: she needed Spike for things, important things, like sex, studying, and more sex. Turning the water on his slowly-softening cock, she smiled as he breathed slowly, trying to regain his composure before he decided they needed to clean each other again. “All good?” Applejack asked, feeling like studying could wait until tomorrow. “Yeah,” Spike replied, running a hand through his still-wet hair as he reached out of the shower and grabbed a trio of towels for the two of them. “Here,” he added, giving her one for her gorgeous hair and the other for her even more gorgeous body. He was not ashamed to say he was damn near addicted to it, both watching it and being joined with it. “So,” Applejack said as the two exited the shower and dried themselves off. “Ready for some studying?” “Sure, why not?” her lover replied. They didn’t last half an hour before the two of them were fast asleep on Applejack’s bed.