An Apple in its Place
Ameliorate Reverie was a tall mare, standing at around 6 foot – an inch taller than her mother had been in life.
Big Mac was taller though.
And while Amelio enjoyed those smaller than her, she couldn't deny it was so sumptuous to have a larger-than-her coltfriend, rippling with sinuous muscle pinned beneath her will. There was something so sensual about it – it made her feel gorgeous and powerful. It made her cringe inward with desire. As Amelio lifted the hand holding her specialized kiseru to her lips, she puckered and puffed wide and deep, pulling the wispy lavender smoke deep into her lungs, her chest rising, and holding it there. The lavender smoke tasted fruity, and it seeped over her tongue. Eventually, after more than a few seconds, she pulled the kiseru away and expelled the haze. It slipped from her lips into a swirling cloud that reminded her of her brother's cutiemark, but far less spectral. It hung in the air, forming a smog that Big Mac pulled into his own lungs when it crept toward him.
Big Mac was in ecstasy. It showed in his dulling, vibrant lime green eyes, eyes that reminded Amelio of her mother – a giggle escaped Amelio's smirk – except for the lingering vacancy. They had been together for a few months now, and Mac was smitten beyond belief by the high society Canterlot noble. He was always drawn to her violet eyes, brimming with calm vigor like the moon, and its brilliant sapphire ellipticals that surrounded the pupils like lunar orbits. They were bright, lively, and full of a conniving nature that, while Mac wouldn't say he normally enjoyed, stirred something deep and primal within him. Maybe it was because of the time he'd been discordant? Something about that otherness that he couldn't normally latch onto. The other thing that enticed him about her was that ornate pipe she used to smoke healthy herbs. It was a majestic ebony wood, with the end of it forming a changeling's head – it hissed at him with flailing pink topaz tongue, the teeth made of smooth, chiseled moonstone, and the eyes crafted with flaming sapphires faceted in a sunburst pattern. It put him in trances with how strange it was.
Amelio knew she had Mac where she wanted him. In front of her, naked. She took another drag of her kiseru, simpering conspiratorially at her delirious coltfriend, watching his doofy smile as they sat across from each other on hay bales in the empty barn. In situations like these, the question wasn't “would a move be made,” nor was it “who would make the first move.” Amelio knew Mac like the back of her hand, in part due to her empathy – she saw through his soul. More than that, it was a question of “when would Mac finally break to her whims and prostrate before her?" It was all a matter of time, and the two always enjoyed the mind games.
Mac was lost in thought about the times Amelio had him play dress up. His breathing was heavy, that lavender scented smoke flowing into him with every one of her exhales. He loved it when she forced him into feminine clothing - it always made him feel beautiful. It made him feel like he could be anything he wanted despite his masculine physique. Maybe it was that which attracted him so much towards her? How accepting she was of his true nature as a submissive towards her? It sent a shudder coursing through his naked, red furred body. He was feeling weak, wobbly, his muscles failing him as if he were fever-stricken. No matter how strong he was it mattered naught under her gaze. Mac noticed that one of Amelio's ears flicked. Was she getting impatient? No that was impossible. She was always patient...
Mac leaned forward, inching in his seat, lifting one of his feet up until it was dragging over her calf.
Amelio lifted an eyebrow, her smirk increasing in intensity. “Oh? Feeling explorative, are we?”
The teasing tone of Amelio’s words flustered Mac, bringing a deeper ruby flush to his cheeks. His head tilted down, the chin of his muzzle pressing against his chest. He was immediately self-conscious of Amelio's c-cup cleavage, contained by a lacy black corset, as dark as the void (same as the rest of her lingerie, from the silken gloves to the equally translucent thigh high stockings), clothing that reminded him of the moon on her pale powder snow fur. As his cheeks flushed he was caught in her gravitic sway like the rising tides. His breath caught in his throat as his foot trailed up a bit farther, sweeping over her left knee, and moving toward her crotch.
The flawless mare reached down with a free hand to caress over the top of Mac's foot with her palm, gently gliding over it and touching the ankle.
Mac nearly collapsed, releasing a breath he was unaware he was holding once he felt Amelio’s touch, one he was desperate for. It spurred him onward. His foot pressed into the base of her crotch, then brushing to the side, pushing hard enough to form an indent in her thigh, before the toes reached out and tickled over her panty-clad vulva, swabbing to the side again as if redirected by an invisible pull, until he was kneading into the area just around it.
His other foot came up next, and he was suddenly using the toes on both feet to press and massage her crotch.
“Hmm... good girl.” Amelio acquiesced, breathing out another gust of haze. It smeared across Mac's face and causing him to blink. He inhaled sharply, pulling as much air in as he could. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. The movements of his feet became more ferocious, pressing harder.
The mare reached down with her free hand, making Mac's motions still for a moment, as she swept her panties down and to the side, revealing her bubblegum pink cunny, with the equine-ish black rim, looking more like a pouch than a cunt.
Soon enough Mac's feet were pressing against her pussy proper, stepping all over it as if dragging over a welcome mat, the touch of his toes sending searing pleasure flowing through her. One foot slid down her snatch, from top to bottom, before fiddling with the entrance using his big toe, gently pushing and pressing. His other foot was busy pushing aside the necessary folds to reveal her bulbous clit, pinching it between a big toe and an index toe, giving it a tight squeeze like a piercing, and wiggling it up and down, curling and lightly tugging like a cat's claws. The toe probing the entrance to her pussy finally sank in, garnering no response from the mare, but still Mac kept up his ministrations. He could see her growing smile in his peripheral. His breathing was heavy, he was so turned on.
Mac's cock was hanging from his sheathe. At one point it had been a limp slag of salacious lumber stuck between his thighs, going down, down, down all the way to his knees, but now it was growing rock hard from every pulsating moment of tension at the base of it, the whole thing growing more rigid and firm by the second. It was meaty, a delicious dark candy red and it throbbed with life – his balls churning with potent seed, The fleshy fuck rod was a majestic thing of beauty that would put the stallion's father to shame, with a thick, tubular curtain rod of muscle running along the underside that merged with the main, slender, trunk-like shaft seamlessly, and a fat, juicy medial ring that could split apart the loosest mare. Running along the taut flesh were webbing veins of various sizes. The coup de grace though was by far the crown at the very top, befitting an earth pony, likely a fellow noble. A ridged flare that spanned outward like a star. The cumslit winked actively as it stared at Amelio's beautiful frame.
Amelio giggled sweetly. “My my, someone is happy to see me are they not?”
Mac let out a delightful, feminine whimper. That was another thing he loved about her – the way she refused to use contractions. Why did she do that? Either way, it was very attractive. Just so deliberate – everything about her was deliberate and thorough. When she gave head he always climaxed after a few strokes of her tongue – she knew just where to strike to have his knees giving out.
Mac's cock tensed up again, rather violently, dollops of gooey, gummy primal pre-cum batter oozing out from the tip and drooling down toward the ground. He'd almost unleashed his pent up load right then and there. What he did expel was slimy, sticking to everything but slippery against itself.
“For Celestia's sake, ever the slut. You almost ejaculated prematurely!” The degrading tone was erotic to Mac, because he knew she meant it as lovingly as possible. It was gentle abuse. “Look me in the eye when you are giving me a foot job, slut.”
Mac whimpered again, louder this time, and as his face twisted from side to side in a frantic gesture to look anywhere but at her, he finally summoned the courage to lock eyes with her.
“Mmh, I can see it in your eyes. You get off to this far more than I do. You love debasing yourself for my enjoyment do you not?”
Big Mac's face was wild with anxiety and arousal, his lips tugged downward, eyebrows leaning outward, eyes foggy. He nodded emphatically, still massaging her cunt with his feet.
“Get up. I want you between my thighs. Now.”
Mac immediately shot up out of his seat so much he almost fell forward onto his face, stumbling slightly. With an awkward stagger he got down onto his knees rapidly and leaned into Amelio's crotch. There was a muffled squeal as he screamed her name into her fuck muffin. The apple of his eye. But he was quickly kissing it all over, getting even on the outer edges, smooching over the fringes and getting over the labial folds, his lips pecking incessantly on the inner sides of her cunt too. Getting deep between every layer. His broad, flat, smooth pink carpet then slipped out of his lips and mashed against her folds, dragging from bottom to top like his feet had once done, slurping over her vulva and ending every lash with a cluck against her clit, sending a piercing sensation flowing through her nethers.
“Mmh, you always were good at cunnilingus. Maybe I will actually orgasm before you this time.” Amelio paused. “Remember, no touching yourself. I will know if you even think about it.”
Mac was voracious – he couldn't be sated. His tongue whipped over her cunt like he was licking up whipped cream off a plate, loud shluck shluck shluck schlups sounding out between Amelio's thighs from that powerful muscle. Eventually he wrapped his lips around her clit and squeezed hard, nearly biting down on it without his teeth, rubbing it between and creating a startlingly heated friction that buzzed through her loins.
“Ahh, always so eager. What a slut.” Another giggle escaped Amelio's throat.
Mac's motions just became more vehement, his cheeks caving in every time he sucked as hard as he could on her clit, creating a vacuous sensation that would cause hickies on any other part of the body. Mac could feel the clit growing engorged in his mouth, filling him up as his tongue crashed into it and lapped against it, taking it for all it was worth. Sliding up against it, batting the sides enticingly, sweeping over the top, and wriggling up under the hood. Teasing it ferociously.
Only, even as aroused as Amelio was growing, Mac had reached his limit.
Before he knew what hit him his eyes were shut hard and he was cumming all over the hay bale in front of him, all over the ground as he bucked his hips. Foal batter surged from his testicles, flowing through the ducts and pumping up the shaft, before erupting from the urethra. He could almost feel the visceral squirting and hear the lewd squish of fluids streaming out. Oily, slippery strands and thin threads bridging the gaps between thick clumps and sticky wads of pearlescent fluids. Hot and steaming off-white, salty, gooey goodness pumping in ropes and ribbons generating a randomized Pollock painting of slung together, dangling, goopy cream fibers everywhere, some of it smacking up onto his belly and pooling between his knees. A syrupy mess that clung to everything. Hefty sclorches noisily sounding off as milky gunk freed itself from its confines.
Amelio had an innocent look to her face as she felt the motions between her thighs fall to a halt. She took another pull on her kiseru as she let Mac swim in his post orgasm state.
Mac's head was brimming with wild sensory input. Lights were going off everywhere in his skull to the point he could no longer tell up from down – he felt like he was lying on his back – he could hardly breathe right. It felt like the Fourth of July in his brain as neurons he never knew he had before started firing off synchronously in a wave of pleasure that filled every crack of his mind. It wasn't long before a smoky haze like the one from Amelio's herbs was settling over his mind, only far smoggier. It choked out all thought and made it difficult to do anything as his mouth hung open in a silent, blitzed out ahegao scream. His eyes deviating from each other in their sockets.
This was how it always happened. Mac would prematurely ejaculate, his cock would remain hard but the stallion would pass out, and Amelio would use his unconscious body like a dildo to get herself off the rest of the way.
And so it always would be.