Special Delivery
Big Mac plodded along Ponyville's main street. It wasn’t that he didn’t have things to do— in particular he needed to speak with one of the local Blacksmiths about getting a shovel head reforged, as it had become bent over the winter and eventually they’d need it. It wasn’t too urgent, but normally Big Mac was not one to waste time. On the other hoof, he couldn’t help taking a bit of time for himself, if only because it was his birthday.
Beyond well wishes, and perhaps a cake that his family might provide, there wasn’t a whole lot to his birthday that he truly celebrated. After all, working on a farm meant that there was always something more important to be doing than wasting time. And, if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t particularly care to celebrate something that he felt so minor. It had taken years to bring Pinkie Pie around to his point of view, so the mare only wished him a good day, rather than some sort of surprise party.
Of course, there was something less exciting about this birthday: his marefriend, Sugar Belle, was out of town. Her cousin had fallen ill, and the plans that she had implied to be making to celebrate his birthday— well, obviously family came first, even if he had been looking forward to seeing the unicorn, and spending some quality time with her.
So it was at a plodding pace that he got things done today, slowly moving from one task to another, not rushing, and not feeling either the need or motivation to do so. The laziness of the day, he supposed, was gift enough.
“Big Mac!”
Big Mac paused, and looked around in confusion. He could have sworn he had heard somepony call his name, but none of the ponies around him seemed to be be trying to get his attention— although a few waved when they noticed him looking, with warm smiles in a typical Ponyvillian fashion. For a brief moment, he wondered if he was going crazy— only for the sun to suddenly blot out seconds before another pony crashed in on him from above.
The pony— the grey mailmare, Derpy— bounced off his back, and slid to the ground with a certain dazed expression on her face. It was fortunate she had collided with him, rather than slamming into the ground. Big Mac knew from the mare’s history that too many such crashes probably weren't so good for her health.
“Miss Muffin,” Big Mac said laconically, offering the mare his hoof and helped her to her hooves. Fortunately, the mare didn’t look much worse for wear, even if she did seem a bit dazed.
“Oh, thank you Big Mac,” Derpy said, taking his hoof and bracing against his much stronger and bigger frame to get back to her hooves. She smiled in her usual sweet fashion, and shook the dust— and confusion— off as she looked up at him with her crooked eyes. “I’m sorry for running into you.”
Considering he hadn’t even been knocked over, Big Mac wasn’t particularly concerned in the least, and just shook his head. “Were you looking for me?”
“Was I?” Derpy asked, sounding puzzled and making Big Mac concerned for her mental well being. “Um…” Derpy paused, and shoved her muzzle into one of her official ponyville mailmare saddle bags and rooted around, before pulling out a scroll letter. “I was! Here you go, Big Mac! Straight from Ourtown!” Derpy said, mumbling about the scroll, as she winked at him. “From your special somepony!”
“Thank you, Derpy,” Big Mac rumbled, as he took the letter from the perky mailmare, and paused to look at it. He should have expected Sugar Belle to send him a birthday card, even if she couldn't be there herself. Although, he had to admit, it surprised him a bit, too. Perhaps only because this was the first relationship he had ever been in.
“No problem! Happy birthday, by the way!” Derpy said cheerfully, her voice half muffled from the saddlebag as she sought out the next letter to deliver. “Oh, hmm! Pinkie Pie… well, I best get going, Big Mac. Have a good one.”
Derpy turned, and spread her wings— then after a brief moment of hesitation— she seemed to think better of it and trotted off towards the market, and by extension the Sugarcube Corner.
Big Mac looked at the unopened letter for a moment, and then tucked it into his collar, thinking he’d open it after he made arrangements with the blacksmith. It even smelled like her, and despite his dull attitude, Big Mac found himself smiling. The reminder put a spring in his step, it was certainly a welcome interruption on his birthday.
It didn’t take long to find a blacksmith who was willing to reforge the shovel head for a reasonable amount of bits, and promised to come by later to pick it up. Big Mac hated to spend the money, but he was no blacksmith himself, and a good shovel was worth it, in his opinion.
He stepped away from the booth, and took a moment to think of what else he needed to do that day. He was sure there were any number of tasks— although his sister would probably insist he took some time for himself, too. As he turned his head, hoping that looking and seeing would jar his memory, his cheek brushed against the letter tucked into his collar, and he smiled.
The scent of his marefriend was truly alluring, and, well, it was his birthday after all, no pony could fault him for taking a few moments to read the thing.
He pulled it out and stood off to the side of the market’s throughfare as he opened it. Her perfume was even stronger when she opened it, and Big Mac couldn’t help grinning a bit foolishly at the inviting, and familiar scent that he associated with kisses and other, more intimate things, like spending time cuddled under a blanket together.
Dear Big Mac, the letter began, her horn writing far neater than any script an earth pony could manage, full of delicate flares and whorls. I’m so sorry I can’t be there, on your special day. I know how much we were both looking forward to it. I know I certainly was.
Big Mac nodded to himself, letter in hoof. Sugar Belle and himself had been planning the get together for several weeks, and part of that had involved not seeing one another for that period of time— for Sugar Belle, it was important to make sure she was building up enough bits that missing a few days to visit him, and work with the Cakes, wasn’t so financially ruinous, and for Big Mac, he had to focus on repairing the farm and performing all the springly duties necessary for the growing season.
“I just keep thinking about you,” the letter continued, “your big, beautiful green eyes, your strong, powerful shoulders.”
In Big Mac’s mind, he was no longer reading the letter, rather it was as if Sugar Belle was there with him, saying those things, her smile, slightly shy, her curly mane bouncing as she reached out to touch him.
“Your sweet voice,” the letter said. “And, of course, who could forget your thick, fat cock.”
Big Mac’s eyes widened a bit at that. After all, it wasn’t like either of them had waited, and Big Mac knew she liked to talk a big dirty, but it was rare for her to send him a letter that made such things explicit.
“I just keep thinking,” Sugar Belle’s words continued, “about how much I miss having your thick stallionhood in my mouth, my lips pursed around it, your balls bouncing off my nose as you used me…” Here the words started to get blurry, and despite himself, Big Mac leans in closer to discern what his marefriend was trying to tell him.
“Not to mention when you mount me.” In Big Mac’s mind, the letter was practically purring, and suddenly the Sugar Belle in his imagination wasn’t an abstract, wholesome mare who was batting her eyelashes at him, or talking to him about making pies over a picnic basket. She was turning, and lifting her tail, revealing her other lips. And winking at him in the way only a mare could.
“Oh, how I miss it. I’m quite beside myself,” the letter said. “Especially with the new season upon me. I just keep touching myself, thinking of my Big Mac, thinking of you and me… making pies together.”
It took him a moment to understand the unicorn slang, but by now his cheeks were already burning with a blush.
That wasn’t the only part of him that was reacting. There was a certain tightness between his legs, a sense of firmness where before there was none, and even as he glanced, he knew full well what he’d see— he was dropping. His dick was extruding out, quite limp still, but thick and very, very obvious. And he was in public!
Clearly Sugar Belle had never meant for him to read her letter in the middle of a busy market place, with all the other ponies around, capable of seeing his maleness in a much more visible way than was normal. As he thought those thoughts, he became increasingly, painfully aware, of all those facts even more intensely, and with a blush he stuffed the letter into his collar, as he glanced around. So far, no pony seemed to be noticing his unintentional arousal, but it was only a matter of time. After all, he wasn’t like he was called Big Mac for nothing.
It was in that moment, however, that Big Mac realized something else about himself. The thought of being seen like this, it filled him with a sense of shame and embarrassment, but that only fed his fire a bit. It wouldn’t be enough to just stop reading it, he had to go somewhere, hide somewhere, and take care of it.
Of course, that meant trying to go somewhere, and with his dick hanging half firmly between his rear legs, he couldn’t simply walk around without somepony noticing. Perhaps, if he thought unsexy, non-Sugar Belle’s-sweet-lips-suckling-on-his-balls thoughts, he could get it to at least retreat enough that he could walk out of the market without embarrassing himself too much. Maybe.
Unfortunately, life had other plans:
“Hello, Big Mac!”
Big Mac turned his head, his eyes growing wide, as Cheerilee spotted him from the far side of a crowd of ponies, obviously rearing up on her hind legs and waving to him.
“Happy Birthday!” She added, then looked the crowd as if trying to find some way over to him.
Of all the ponies he could run into like this, Cheerilee was perhaps the worse. They hadn’t dated— not exactly— but the love poison they had ingested several years prior had had some lingering side effects, at least for Big Mac. Every so often for a year, Cheerilee would appear in his dreams and, well, Big Mac had started to do the laundry every morning. Those sex-mares had faded with time, but to his shame, he sometimes thought about them when he had some… time to himself, so to speak.
All of which flooded back, given his current arousal, the fact that he hadn’t released in nearly three weeks, and scent of his marefriend in his nose— which he recognized belatedly, as her heat. He was in trouble, he thought, as his ears pinned back. He had to get out— get somewhere safe!
With that in mind, Big Mac took off like a shot, breaking into a full gallop, or at least a fast canter, given the crowd.
This proved to be a mistake.
When Big Mac thought about it, he imagined that the ever pony tribe’s young stallions learned about their bodies in different ways. He knew full well that pegasi stallions utilized their wings in a way that he doubted Celestia intended, and it was easy to suspect that a unicorn colt might use his horn to play with his other horn. But for earth ponies, they only had their hooves, and even then that took practice. The first way a young earth pony stallion learned to get some relief, the way Big Mac had learned, was to flick his dick against his belly, slapping the member against the stomach.
Which, unfortunately, given his semi-hard state, and his canter, was exactly the sort of motion he found himself giving himself. Despite the fear and sense that he had to get away, it only served to further harden him. He was almost beside himself with embarrassment and shame.
“Big Mac!” Cheerilee called, sounding hurt and confused as to why he was running away. There was nothing he could do for that.
Suddenly, Big Mac spotted an alley, which was perfect for his needs, and darted down it. He ran, painfully aware of his dick slapping his belly every step, and then to his horror skidded to a stop in front of a wall, a dead end.
To his frustration, Cheerilee suddenly appeared at the entry— squinting as she tried to spot him. “Big Mac?” she said.
For now, the shadows would hide him, but it was only a matter of seconds!
“Psst!” Big Mac started at the new voice, and turned to see Pinkie Pie leaning out dull, dark coloured door. “Big Mac! Hurry, in here!”
For a moment, Big Mac hestated. After all, being caught by any mare was bad enough… on the other hoof, Pinkie was known to keep secrets, so he supposed—
Cheerilee started into the alleyway. And Big Mac quickly barreled through the doorway as Pinkie held it open for him.
The room beyond the doorway was really more of an abbreviated hallway, cramped and tight; to Big Mac’s left, there was a steep set of stairs that led upwards, while the hallway to the left led deeper into the building. He wasn’t completely sure, but given the styling— less enthusiastic though it might be back here— and the sound of ponies talking and pots being banged around, he realized this must be the back of the Sugarcube Corner.
Pinkie shut the door with a click, and then pointed up the stairs, speaking in a hushed, strained voice with just a hint of excitement in it. “Quickly, up there! I’ll be up in a moment!”
Big Mac didn’t hesitate, even though his cheeks were burning at the thought that Pinkie, surely, had noticed by now, and darted up the stairs. They twisted and turned, and finally he emerged through another door into a loft.
For one, heart stopping moment, Big Mac thought he had walked into a surprise party, given the room’s decorations. He couldn’t imagine a worse time to be ambushed by family and friends. Fortunately, he realized after a second that it wasn’t decorated for a party, so much as the decor was party themed; a second’s thought further, and he realized this was likely Pinkie’s bedroom.
As he stood, contemplating the room, her could hear Pinkie Pie open the door again, and apparently talking with Cheerilee. Hopefully to put her off his scent, so to speak. He would have to apologize later.
Big Mac looked between his legs, at his thick, hard cock, now throbbing nearly at full mast.
Much, later. After he took care of this.
The door slammed down stairs, and Big Mac heard Pinkie hopping up the steps, sounding like she was humming a tune to herself. The painful stiffness between his legs twitched, and Big Mac frantically looked around for something— somewhere, like a washroom— that he could relieve himself in. Perhaps Pinkie hadn’t noticed just yet and, if he was quick, he could get away with it.
Alas, before he could spot any doors that might lead to his salvation, Pinkie ponkied up over the last step and came a thudding landing on the top step.
“Hi-ya Big Mac!” Pinkie said cheerfully, her eyes fixed on his face. And then, enveitably, the flicked down, off his face, across his barrel, and between his legs.
Inadvertently, Big Mac realized he was giving the mare a full side view of his member.
“Oh wow, she wasn’t joking! Wow!” Pinkie Pie said, seemingly to herself.
“Um,” Big Mac said frantically.
Pinkie looked back at him with a smile.
“Please don’t tell no pony about this, Pinkie?” He pleaded, as he tried to block her view with his body.
“Why would I do that, silly?” Pinkie giggled, bouncing on the spot. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“What?”
Oh no, Big Mac thought to himself. Perhaps she thought he was turned on by her. Not that she wasn’t attractive in her own way, with her plump, thick behind, and generous curves— he shook that thought of his head, even as his cock throbbed apprivatatively.
“Oh silly,” Pinkie said, looking as if she had read his mind. Stranger things had happened around the mare. “Read the rest of the letter, why don’t you?”
Big Mac stared at her, wondering what she meant, or how she knew about the letter— even if it was sticking out of his collar— and then turned and walked slowly, and with care, over to the edge of the own seat in the room, Pinkie’s bed, before sitting on it. Using one hoof, he pulled the letter free, and unbiddenly, used the other to hold his member against his belly, less Pinkie see it from the side.
I know how much you love your cream pie, the letter said, continuing the prior thought, then the tone changed. But then I realized, you must be suffering just as much! You told me in your last letter that you’d wait for me, for today, and while I wouldn’t hold it against you if you weren’t able to keep that sweet promise, Big Mac, I realize how difficult it must be for you right now. Especially for big studs like yourself.
There was a break, and the next line was quite blurry, requiring Big Mac to lean in very close, his nose practically touching the paper, to read it.
So I’ve made some arrangements with my friend, the letter read, almost coyly. Enjoy!
Love (eventually!) Sugar Belle.
The mare had signed the bottom of the letter with a bunch of small hearts, which brought a smile to Big Mac’s face. Even if he felt very confused even so.
“Why’d you—?” Before Big Mac could ask Pinkie to clarify, he suddenly felt something soft, and warm, blow against his cock; With a start, Big Mac flinched. His member escaped his hold, and slapped against Pinkie’s smiling muzzle with a bit of a wet flop.
“Hiya,” Pinkie said again, as if having a strange stallion’s cock laying against her face was a perfectly normal way to greet somepony.
“Gah!” Big Mac cried, scrambling backwards and only managing to trip over the edge of the bed and fall onto it. “What are you doing, Pinkie?!”
“You didn’t read the letter? Or…” Pinkie picked the letter up off the ground and looked at it, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. “That silly filly! She means me! She asked me if I wouldn’t mind taking care of her big, handsome stud,” Pinkie’s voice dropped into something sultry. “On his birthday, when his marefriend couldn’t. And I said yes!” she added with her normal excitement.
“Uh,” Big Mac said intelligently as he stared at the mare. From his position on his back, he was completely exposed, and unfortunately his neglected cock was enjoying the mare’s gaze, as it slowly followed the contours of his cock, from balls to tip, with a hungry sort of expression. “Really?”
“Really really,” Pinkie said. “I got the letter here somewhere, if you’d like to see.”
Pinkie might not be his sister, but Big Mac didn’t think Pinkie would lie about such a thing. For one, if it was a lie, and if it somehow got back to his marefriend that he had fucked another pony— well that’d be the opposite of making ponies happy. And Pinkie Pie did have a reputation around Ponyville for being, well, easy. If Sugar Belle was going to make such arrangements, it would make sense…
“Sooooo,” Pinkie said, looking Big Mac in the eyes and looking unusually shy, as if suddenly worried she had overstepped boundaries. She had, but Big Mac didn’t mind as he normally would.
Big Mac wasn’t sure what to say. Unwelcome fantasies about Cheerilee notwithstanding, Big Mac had never really imagined himself with any other pony, especially not after he had met Sugar Belle and, well, they had agreed to date. Yet, he knew from some of her comments that Sugar Belle didn’t necessarily think the same way, although whether it was a unicorn thing— goodness knows the rumors about the nobility would seem to suggest such a thing— or a her thing, Big Mac couldn't say. He could easily believe, though, that this is something she had in mind.
Big Mac wasn’t sure what to say. So he nodded, and forced himself to sit up on the edge of the bed.
Pinkie wasn’t expecting it, and his half-hard cock slapped her with on the nose, drawing out a gasp and a giggle. If the mare was surprised by it, though, she didn’t let it slow her down. Her breath curled around his shaft as she started to kiss the underside of his cock, sliding down onto her belly and allowing him to knight her.
Everything Sugar Belle had said was true, of course, it had been a long time since he had satisfied himself, and his cock knew it too, throbbing and hardening under Pinkie’s soft, pursed lips. Her kisses drew a trail down his member, every now and again punctured with a small lick; deeper she went, until her chin was gently brushing against his balls. It was one of the few places on his body that wasn’t covered in hair, and the sensation of the pink mare’s fur brushing against them was amazing.
He almost thought, for a horrible second, that he’d cum right then and there, only for a large droplet of pre to form on the tip of his dick, before sliding, and splashing against Pinkie’s nose.
“Wow, you really did wait for her, didn’t you?” Pinkie said, sounding slightly amazed as she licked off her nose. She didn’t wait for him to reply, before kissing each nut in turn, and starting to lick them.
Big Mac sighed happily, and started to gently stroke the near painful member with the crook of his leg. Gently, very gently, mostly spreading around the riverlets of pre, and doing his utmost to avoid the blunt head. He knew full well what would happen if he spent any time playing with that, especially as Pinkie’s tongue became more and more inquisitive. As he stroked, he found himself gazing down at the pink mare between his legs, her behind especially. It really was thick and plump, her hips amazing. Of course, it was nothing, Big Mac insisted, compared to Sugar Belle, but there was no doubt in his mind that Pinkie knew how to treat a stallion right.
Finally she pulled back, a strand of her salvia connecting her to his nuts, before it finally broke, and looked up at him with one of her customary Pinkie Pie grins. They only shared eye contact for a moment, before he let his cock slip from his grasp, and boop her again on the nose.
She took the invitation in the spirit it was offered, and leaned upward, drawing herself up until her lips were level with his cock’s blunt head. It almost felt like he was about to flare, but he did his best to hold back, just a little longer.
It was a wasted effort.
Pinkie leaned in, her lips pursed, and kissed the very edge of his cock head, and that’s all it took for Big Mac to let out a grunt as he was pushed over the edge. His cock flared, and thick, white ropes of his seed shot out, half of it coating the side of Pinkie’s muzzle and face, while the other half shot out onto her shoulder and back, and onto the carpet.
It took him a moment to get his senses back, and he sat, panting, while Pinkie licked her muzzle free of his seed— which unfortunately did nothing for the rest of her, grinning and giggling all the while. If she was disappointed, she didn’t show it. If anything, she seemed excited.
“That’s what I like to see,” Pinkie laughed. “Enthusiasm! But next time let me get some in my mouth,” she added, her hoof pressing against his belly and rubbing up as she felt him. “You know I love whipped cream, silly.”
“Eeyup,” Big Mac said, blushing and feeling slightly embarrassed, with a tinge of shame growing around the edges of his thoughts. It was hardly Pinkie’s fault, but Sugar Belle, at times, made the same sorts of euphemisms, and it made him worry that somehow, someway, he had betrayed her. That he had misread the letter, or Pinkie had misread hers, or both.
He started to shift, as if to get up and leave, but Pinkie pushed him back down.
“Where’d you think you’re going, Big Mac?” Pinkie said, frowning. “Belle Welle told me to drain those balls of yours—” Pinkie punctured the point by rubbing her hoof against Big Mac’s sac. “And you still have some left for me!”
If there was any doubt, any worry about the ambiguity in the letters, Big Mac suspected it was gone now.
“Right,” Big Mac said, relaxing ever so slightly. Perhaps he had been more worried than he had thought. “But,” he added, as he pushed Pinkie off (a lifetime of cupcakes and sugar hadn’t exactly given her great strength) “I reckon it’s be rightly rude, if I didn’t return the favor.”
Pinkie looked up at him, sitting on her butt with her legs splayed out. It was only then that Big Mac noticed that one of her hooves was between her legs, and her hips moving, ever so slightly, as she ground against her own hoof. She grinned at him.
“None of that, now,” Big Mac said gruffly, with a bit of a smirk on his lips. “I reckon I can do better than that. Then he added, almost in a whisper: “Unless that’s beyond what Sugar Belle wants?”
“Nopers!” Pinkie sprang to her hooves, and did a half canter in a circle, her tail flicking, then she paused and smiled at him. It wasn’t her normal sort of Pinkie Pie Smile, this was far more smoldering, promising far more than just a few party games or balloon animals, even if he would end up having a fun time.
It just so happened, and Big Mac was sure it was no accident, that the mare stopped with her ass towards him, and while most mares were mindful of their tail’s position, Pinkie’s was doing a remarkably poor job of hiding everything she offered. It wasn’t something he hadn’t seen before, of course, but still, presented in this context, suddenly those pink, twitching lips of hers looked far more inviting than he ever remembered.
Big Mac stepped forward, and stretched his neck down until his nose was brushing against the wet, almost dripping lips of the mare. Her vulva winked at him by way of greeting, making him wrinkle his nose at the sudden dampness, then he slowly lapped at them, his tongue pushing against them and slipping into her. He did it, partly, to return the favor, but also to give himself a moment more to recharge. As… excited and on edge though he might be, he wasn’t quite capable of going all night with no recharge at all.
“OOoh!” Pinkie moaned appreciatively, her legs quivering as he dug in deep. She seemed almost beside herself as she draped her tail over his neck and shoulders, and her pussy produced just a bit more juice for his eager and waiting tongue. “No wonder Sugar Belle’s always smiling, Mackie!”
He doubted his marefriend’s good moods were solely his doing, but rumbled appreciatively anyway, and kept licking. Within a few minutes of orally pleasuring Pinkie, whatever strength might have left him after cumming returned, and his cock stiffened between his legs. He didn’t care to waste any more time, he wanted pussy, and he wanted it now.
Pulling back, he gestured for Pinkie to get on the bed.
“Okey dokey!” Pinkie said with another giggle, even though her gait was wobbly. Somehow, the sight of her shivering with each step, her pussy leaking slightly and dripping onto the ground, drove Big Mac, urging him forward. Before Pinkie could quite hop onto the bed, Big Mac was behind her, rearing up.
Pinkie gasped slightly, and flopped, half onto the bed, as he mounted her. The first few blind thrusts missed their mark, as he braced himself over her— he had a newfound appreciation for his marefriend’s magic, now— and then, gloriously, his cock found the mark, the wet, hungry entrance to his sister’s friend’s cunt.
He didn’t wait. He pushed forward. There was a slight resistance, then he slid in with almost a pop. As he thrust deep, he watched Pinkie moan, her eyes rolling back into her head as she braced herself against the covers of her bed.
“Tight,” Big Mac grunted, as he felt the pink pony’s body grip his cock. For somepony who was supposedly ‘easy’, Pinkie seemed to be as tight as a virgin.
“T-thanks. K-kegels,” Pinkie moaned, burying her face in the covers of her bed as Big Mac’s weight pushed down on her.
Big Mac nodded, and slid out, setting up a slow, but eager rhythm, as he leaned down and nuzzled the back of the mare’s head. In a way, it was almost like fucking Sugar Belle. Both mares had similarly textured manes, and a lifetime of baking had given both of them a sugary, floury sort of scent in their hair, especially when he breathed deep. It was good, in a way, because if he closed his eyes, he could easily imagine he was fucking his marefriend, not just a friend surrogate.
The mare wrapped around his cock wiggled, adjusting her angle, and moaned into the bedsheets as Big Mac began to go faster. He wanted to draw things out, he wanted to give Pinkie a good time, but it had just been too long, and that brief orgasm too short, to really sate his needs. His balls started to slap against her thighs and little nub, every thrust bringing a hungry, almost pained sound out of Pinkie, as she closed her eyes.
Big Mac changed his angle slightly, then really let loose, fucking that tight pussy for all it was worth, all the while closing his eyes and thinking about doing just this with a sweet pink unicorn between his legs, feeling his cock as he fucked her, bred her. Goodness, he loved that mare. He’d have to ask her to marry him. And soon.
“O-oh, B-Big M-Mac!” Pinkie half cried, pulling Big Mac out of his thoughts. He tried to slow down, worried that perhaps he was being too aggressive. “No! More! Deeper!”
He didn’t need to be asked twice. He adjusted his hooves, hilt deep inside her, then started to fuck her from a slightly different angle. Almost immediately, he knew he had hit pay dirt. Pinkie’s pussy pulsed around his cock, twitching and grabbing, as if trying to gobble him right down, as she cried out. She came, and he was pretty sure she came again, all the while he was buried deep inside her.
It was rising in him too, the need, the building cum, he could feel his sac tightening, drawing up to his cock, as he resumed humping her, thrusting into the orgasming mare with a certain careless, eager need. He didn’t notice Pinkie’s whimpering, or anything else, for that matter, as he thrust into the mare one last time and his cock erupted; he could feel the hot seed pulse out of him, each beat filling the mare’s pussy with more and more of him; it leaked up and out around his cock, dripping onto the floor and filling the air with a musk quite unlike Pinkie’s scent.
Finally he was spent, for now, and he flopped down onto of Pinkie, further forcing her into the bedding. Well aware of his greater weight, Big Mac rolled off her, awkwardly, as he was still deep inside her.
For a moment, there was no sound, and Big Mac, with a brief moment of panic, wondered if they had been so loud that the patrons downstairs had heard them. He didn’t care to explain to Mrs Cake why he was fucking a mare who wasn’t his marefriend— doubly so, given that Sugar Belle was currently one of Mrs Cake’s part time apprentices. However, it seemed like just a natural lull, and soon he could hear the din of a busy restaurant below them once more.
“W-wow,” Pinkie said cheerfully. If she was relieved to no longer be squished by the much heavier stallion, none of that showed in her voice or grin. “That was great! I’m going to have to bake Sugar Belle a thank you cake now!”
“Uh huh,” Big Mac said, panting. He wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that, but it was probably a good thing, not a bad one. “She sure is something.”
“Mmhmm,” Pinkie murmured in agreement, hugging Big Mac’s side like he was a teddy bear. “She’s lucky to have you.”
“Heh,” Big Mac half laughed. “She’s lucky? I reckon I’m the lucky one. How many stallions out there have marefriends who’d be willing to let another mare fuck their stud?”
“Oh, I don’t know, probably more than you’d think,” Pinkie said with a wink and a giggle. “I’m just glad you accepted! I’d sure feel awkward if I had to just watch you take care of that cock of yours.”
“Eeyup,” Big Mac said laconically, then shifted so his cock popped out of Pinkie’s lips. Cum gushed out and over Pinkie’s dock, but neither of them seemed to mind the mess they had made. “Not too bad of a birthday, I reckon.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it!” Pinkie said with her characteristic energy as she climbed off the bed and on to him. “‘Cause I’ve got at least two more holes that need fillin’ and I’m not letting you go until I’ve got more cream in me than one of Mrs Cake’s famous Eclairs!”
“Well,” Big Mac said as he rolled to his hooves and stood up. “My marefriend’d be right disappointed if I didn’t help a fellow baker fill her buns, practically my responsibility as her stallion.”
“Makes sense to me,” Pinkie agreed with a grin. “Oh, by the way,” she added. “Happy birthday!”
All in all, not a bad birthday after all. And he suspected thanking Sugar Belle for her gift was going to be a treat in and of itself. He’d certainly make sure it was.
Big Mac followed the bouncing pink pony as she got herself a drink from the bathroom that had eluded him earlier and smirked. Perhaps Sugar Belle would like a nice pastry, so to speak, herself…