> Down and Dirty > by Some Leech > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Hard Labor > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Hooie! Let me know if anypony ever says you ain’t a hard worker,” Applejack guffawed, looking from the bushels of apples to the man resting against a nearby tree, “Ah’ll be sure to set ‘em straight for ya’!” Anon could do little more than nod and weakly smile. It was only his sixth day working at the Apple family orchard and, if he was being completely honest with himself, he felt like he’d gone ten rounds with a bear. His legs felt like jelly, it hurt to lift his arms, and he was absolutely drenched in sweat; needless to say, he was ready to put his feet up and relax - that is, after he’d taken a well deserved shower and got a meal in his belly. Life in Equestria wasn’t all that different than things were on Earth - well, besides the talking horses. Four legged or not, the denizens of the strange world seemed like good folks; they had families, friends, and loved ones, they earned their keep, and most of them were friendly to a fault - that being said, there had been an adjustment period after he’d arrived. Be darned if he knew how he ended up in the bizarre, magical land, and he frankly couldn’t say if he’d ever get any explanation for his arrival, but he’d started carving a niche for himself. Shortly after waking up in a grove of Apple trees, just outside of a town called Ponyville, his first run-in with the natives had been, shall we say, jarring. Stumbling upon a small, oddly colored horse would have been odd enough, but he’d nearly fainted when she spoke. She - yes, she - had politely introduced herself, asked if he was alright, and offered him a meal, as nonchalantly as if he’d been a fond acquaintance. Her name was Applejack, and she was the middle child of a family of farmers. The kindhearted earth pony was the first talking equine he’d met; she’d introduced him to the Princesses, acted as his sherpa, offered him a job, and even gave him a room to stay in. Despite the absurdity of it all, he’d quickly warmed to her and took comfort in her presence. It was hard to explain why he felt so at ease around her and, frankly, he wasn’t sure he completely understood it; some part of him assumed it was because of her casual indifference to their differences. She treated him like anypony else, it was as simple as that. Regardless of the unfathomable psychological factors at play, she’d been instrumental in helping him get settled in, whether she fully realized it or not. “You gonna stand there all day pantin’ like a dog in the sun, or are ya gonna help me get these on the cart?” she teased, shaking him from his stupor. “D...don’t worry,” he croaked, licking his parched lips, “I’m coming.” Striding over to her, he squatted down, hefted a bushel and set it onto the deck of the wagon. Though he’d been working for her family for months, it was the first time he’d participated in a harvest. Compared to tending to chickens, feeding pigs, cleaning the barn, or helping with the garden, the work in the orchard was downright grueling. With multiple groves of apple trees, and only two able-bodied ponies to do most of the labor, it felt like a herculean effort. Applejack swore it wouldn’t take them more than a month to get everything done, but he just didn’t see how it was possible. The previous five days had played out almost exactly the same. He awoke at the crack of dawn, ate a hearty breakfast, then proceeded into the orchard with Applejack and Big Macintosh, her elder brother. The three of them picked apples from sunup to mid afternoon, only taking breaks to relieve themselves, take a drink, or snack on the succulent fruit they were surrounded by. It was absolutely brutal work, leaving him exhausted beyond words, but it wasn’t like he was the only one suffering. Without fail, AJ and Mac busted their humps just as hard as he did - heck, harder than he did. They’d buck trees, gather apples, and load the wagons alongside him - all that without the aid of having hands. Seeing them toil was inspirational as all get-out, especially since they’d been generous enough to look after him. If nothing else, besides earning his keep, he felt sure the routine would definitely help him lose a bit of weight and improve his overall health - that is, if it didn’t kill him first. With a heave and a grunt, Anon placed the final bushel into the nearly filled bed of the cart. Another section of the orchard down, another day finished. Dusting his hands, after he secured the wagon’s rear gate, he spotted his host trot by. She really was an interesting creature, and not just because she was a talking, assiduous pony - no, there was more to it than that. Covered in orange fur, with a golden mane and tail, her head only came up to his chest. Her eyes, a brilliant emerald, were typically shaded by her signature stetson. One of the most charming things about her, aside from her friendly demeanor, had to be her accent; she, much like the rest of her family, had a distinctly southern twang when they spoke, which he found absolutely precious. As the weeks passed, with the summer drawing to a close, he’d grown close to her. They ate, worked, and lived together, seeing one another almost constantly, so he shouldn’t have been too surprised that they’d become friends. Occasionally, when they weren’t busying themselves with this or that, he mused on how bizarre the situation must have seemed.  There he was, a stranger in a strange land, having bonded with an intelligent, industrious equine. A year prior, back when he’d been on Earth, if someone had mentioned he’d be housed with a family of ponies, he would have laughed in their face or told them to talk with a shrink - now, things were different. He genuinely enjoyed the Apple family’s company, all four of them, but he had a particular soft spot for Applejack. Noticing her disappear in front of the wagon, he moved on instinct. Though she was perfectly capable of slipping into the hames of the cart, he’d be remiss for not offering her assistance - besides, he’d feel even worse if he stood around twiddling his thumbs. Trotting past her, he turned and started walking backwards. “You need a hand?” he asked, reaching and lifting the wagon’s tongue. “Ah think I’ll manage, partner. Shucks, what do ya think Ah was doin’ before ya came along?” she snickered, stooping down and stepping into position. Shrugging off her dismissive comment, Anon set to loosening the leather straps around the contraption. “Well now that I am here, there’s no harm having me help a little.” The mare piqued a brow and squinted up at him, as he secured the hames around her neck. “If Ah didn’t know better, Ah’d say you were being sweet on me,” she flatly stated. The assertion caught Anon off guard, causing him to tense - that was, until he noticed her barely restrained smile. “Oh Haha,” he teased, slapping her shoulder, “very funny.” “Shucks, you should’a seen the look on your face,” she teased. Stepping forward, as the man dipped to the side, she dug her hooves into the earth. Anon swiftly ran to the back of the cart, helping her get the thing rolling; the darn thing wasn’t that difficult to move when it was empty, but it was an absolute beast to manage when it was laden with dozens of bushels of apples - as such, the two of them typically worked in concert to get the vehicle moving. Pressing his shoulder against the sturdy wooden frame, he braced his legs and pushed with all his might. Though it took them a second, the haul finally started to move. With the vehicle underway, albeit at an unhurried pace, he strolled back up to join his quadrupedal host. They’d been fortunate enough to finish their day on a hill, so the trip back to the farmhouse was mostly downhill. Catching up with the mare, he slowed. There really wasn’t any point in continuing to aid her, given that she was vastly stronger than he was. Though she didn’t stand as tall as him, Applejack beat him out in pure mass. Besides the difference in sizes, a life of hard labor had given her an exquisitely toned physique. It wasn’t like he tried to notice her build, but working alongside her made it nearly impossible. As he passed the cart, her full body into view. Trotting along, hauling the massive load, her hind legs rhythmically move past one another. Having been from a city, back on Earth, he’d never been exposed to horses all that much; now that he was in Equestria, it was a different story entirely. The way ponies moved, their build, their power - the longer he was around them, the more he found himself captivated by them. Subconsciously, his eyes drifted to her thighs. Watching her muscles glide over one another, beneath her sweat-slick coat, his pulse quickened. Though he couldn’t describe it, there was something enchanting about her; not only was she more sturdily built than most of her kind, but her reserved and relaxed demeanor about the strength she wielded was humbling. She was easily one of the most physically powerful ponies he knew, yet she never once flaunted it. As she flicked her tail to the side, likely to swat at a fly, blood rushed to his cheeks. While he hadn’t intended to eye her up, the sight of her darkened marehood and velvety pucker reminded him of where his mind had wandered. Despite his best efforts, his extended stay in the land of sapient, talking, and oftentimes magical horses had begun to take a toll on his psyche. He never would have thought he’d develop any sort of attraction to animals - then again, Equestria’s residents weren’t exactly animals. Though the ponies, kirin, changelings, and other races may have resembled some of the creatures from his homeland, their intellect and mannerisms set them apart entirely. For all intents and purposes, if judged by their actions alone, the colorful residents could almost have been considered human. “Ya havin’ fun back there…?” a voice softly inquired. Wrenched back to his senses, looking to her face, he froze. Without breaking her stride, bearing the slightest smirk, Applejack peered back at him. With her dazzling eyes staring dead at him, he desperately thought of something - anything to say. Striding forward, he reached out and brisky patted her tail. “You had a twig stuck in there,” he blurted, praying his spontaneous response would go unquestioned. “Huh,” she grunted. Swinging her tail to the side, she inspected herself. “Well Ah appreciate that!” Nodding, thanking his lucky stars that she bought it, he nodded. He really, really needed to be more mindful of where he was looking, lest she get the wrong impression. The last thing he needed was to tick off the pony he valued most, so he’d have to be more careful in the future. Moving to just beside her, he matched her pace. “So,” he began, innocently glancing in her direction, “any idea what Granny smith will be making tonight?” “If’n Ah had to guess, Ah’d say somethin’ with cabbage,” the mare postulated, quirking her brow. “Then again, she might be fixin’ some carrot stew,” she added, hungrily licking her chops. Content to let the conversation lay, wondering what culinary delights awaited him, Anon walked at her side. Regardless of what they ended up eating, he’d be more than happy to help clean up, shower, then collapse into bed. One benefit of the grueling toil was that he always ended up sleeping like a brick, even if his nights never felt like they were quite long enough. Approaching the storage shed, preparing to store the ripe produce, the pair ground to a halt and prepared themselves for the next step. Getting Applejack unhitched was easy enough, but pushing the wagon into the building would be a bit tricky. Housing three fully laden wagons already, there simply wasn’t enough room for her to pull the vehicle inside - as such, they’d need to push it into place. Positioning himself at one rear corner of the cart, while his friend situated herself opposite, he took a broad stance. “On three. “One, two, three!” Working in tandem, the pair shoved with all their might. Slowly but surely, the cart rolled forward and ahead, into the shed and out of the elements. At long last, with the day’s work finally at an end, they’d be able to get a decent meal and some rest. Turning and strolling to the titanic sliding door, he waited for his host. As Applejack sauntered out of the building, gazing up at the nearby home, her brow furrowed. “Shoot, Mac’s already in the bathroom.” Cocking his head, as he pulled the door to, Anon peered over at the home; sure enough, he spotted steam escaping one of the upper windows. Regrettably, one of the drawbacks of having the eldest sibling being the first one to finish up and return to the homestead was his penchant for long showers. Comparatively speaking, the stallion took twice as long as himself or Applejack, draining the hot water supply almost entirely. Realizing they’d have to wait the better part of an hour before being able to wash up, he scrunched his nose. Even if Mac hopped out of the shower soon, they’d likely need to wait for the hot water to be replenished. Easing his back against the exterior wall, he sighed and looked down at his shirt. The garment was plastered to his torso, slick with sweat and coated in dust. Thankfully, with a bit of reminding from Applejack, he’d stayed thoroughly hydrated throughout the day, but that did little to help his situation. He felt positively grimy and, if he had to guess, so did his friend. Peering over at the mare, seeing her slickened fur glisten in the dimming light, he fanned his shirt. “If Mac doesn’t take forever and a day to get done, you can go first,” he chivalrously remarked. It wasn’t just that she was a lady, but she’d arguably exerted herself as hard or harder than he had, earning her a claim to the shower. “Ah ain’t waitin’ for the big lug - if’n Ah did, Ah’d be waiting out here ‘til sundown!” she groused, obstinately glowering up at the restroom window. Wheeling around, proceeding to the far side of the shed, she motioned for him to follow. “Come on, there’s more than one way to skin a cat.” As she disappeared around the corner of the structure, his curiosity piqued. As far as she knew, they didn’t have any other bathrooms on the ranch, save for an outhouse, so he was left to wonder what she’d meant. Following after her, moving out of view of the farmhouse, he spotted her fiddling with something on the side of the building. “What are you…” he trailed off, noticing a hose leading to a spigot under her hoof. “There should be some soap under that there crate,” she intoned, gesturing to an overturned wooden box. “Seein’ as how Mac’s gonna hog the hot water, we can just clean ourselves up out here.” A knot formed in Anon’s stomach, and his heart skipped a beat, hearing her casual assessment. It had taken him some time to get used to ponies walking around naked, but the prospect of bathing with one set his nerves on edge. He might be convinced to shower off outdoors, if nobody else was around, but doing it in front of a coworker, and a lady at that, wasn’t something he’d ever considered doing. As he stepped over to and flipping the upturned crate, he discovered a block of soap and a washcloth. From the looks of it, it definitely wasn’t the first time somebody had washed up back there, though nobody had ever mentioned it to him before. Bending over, pondering how he could politely excuse himself, a thud and hushed string of curses caught his ear. Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes widened. Applejack lay on the ground, plastered in mud, with the end of the hose in her mouth. She’d presumably meant to rinse herself off, but likely slipped on the muddy soil she’d unintentionally made. Rushing over to her, leaving the soap behind, he offered her a hand. “You alright?” he asked, as she rested a forehoof on his palm. “Why didn’t you just wait a - SHIT!” His lighthearted tutting was cut woefully short, as he was wrenched off his feet. Tumbling into and over her, his face ground into the dirt. Scrambling off the sullied mare, keenly aware of how awkward the situation had become, he shot to his feet. Now sweaty, a bit scraped up, and covered in mud, he grimaced down at himself. He would have been pretty peeved with himself, if a soft chuckle hadn’t caught his attention. “Ain’t nothin’ ta get worked up over,” she giggled, getting to her hooves. “Go on and strip down, I’ll throw your clothes in the laundry after we get cleaned up.” Anon’s mouth flapped for a moment, struggling to think of what to say, yet he remained silent. Her request wasn’t that outlandish, considering her kind didn’t normally wear clothes. His indecision and reluctance, though valid, eventually caught up with him, as a coy little smile split Applejack’s muzzle. “Come on, it can’t be that bad,” she teased. “Ah mean, it ain’t like ya ain’t seen me trottin’ around buck naked since ya got here.” And there it was, she hit the nail squarely on the head. Steeling himself, he worked up the courage to look her in the eyes. “It’s just a cultural thing. We, us humans, don’t normally go around naked.” “Why not?” she inquired, taken aback. “You were born naked, you’re naked when you bathe, ya sleep naked,” she counted off, causing the man to wince. “What? It won’t like Ah was peepin’ or nothin, but everypony in the house knows you snooze in the buff!” She had him there. What with the lack of human garments in Equestria, he typically did sleep nude. Feeling more self-conscious than ever, yet not wanting to disappoint or offend his host, his shoulders wilted. If she’d already seen his bare body, intentionally or not, it really wouldn’t be that bad. “Just don’t laugh,” he sighed, tugging at his shirt. Hauling the garment up and over his head, he tossed the sullied article to the side. “Don’t,” he preemptively scolded, lifting a finger and turning away from her, “laugh…” Reaching down, he loosened his belt and unfastened his pants. While he wriggled out of the garment, doing his level best to internally rationalize his actions, the air was deathly still. Some part of him almost hoped Mac, Apple Bloom, or Granny Smith would interrupt them, if only to serve as a distraction, but he wasn’t so lucky. As the slacks cleared his hips, unwilling to bend over and give her an even more unbecoming view of his backside, he let go. The jeans fell down his legs, settling around his ankles, as the wind caressed his bare behind. He wasn’t sure what to say - hell, he wasn’t even sure what to do! There were only a handful of people who could say they’d seen him naked before, and that wasn’t counting the pets he’d had over the years. Drawing a deep breath, holding it, and slowly exhaling, he turned. Applejack stood some dozen paces away, looking him over from top to bottom, but she didn’t stay there for long. Stepping closer, bearing an amused, inquisitive look, her gaze ultimately settled on his groin. Try as he might to remain composed, the fixed attention became too much to bear; covering himself, he awkwardly fidgeted in place. “Really?” he half groused, half lamented. His question caused the corners of her lips to turn up ever so slightly, as she shifted her focus to his face. “Anon, please, ya act like Ah ain’t never seen something like that before - well, Ah mean, Ah ain’t never seen one quite like that before, but ya know what Ah’m sayin’,” she explained, barely concealing her mirth. Glowering down at her, Anon’s second hand went to cover his loins. “That’s not helping…” “Now now - Ah didn’t mean nothin’ by it. Shucks, if’n Ah’m bein honest, Ah’d say ya ain’t got nothin’ ta be ‘shamed about,” she continued, yer eyes wandering down his chest. Her comment surprised him, giving him a moment for pause. Regardless of his better judgement, he felt compelled to press the topic. “How so…?” “Well, fer starters, ya ain’t so bad lookin’,” she began, lifting her hoof as if to count. “Now, it might be mah imagination, but it sure as heck seems like all the hard work ‘round here got you fit as a fiddle.” Though Anon lifted a finger to protest, he remained silent. She had a point; over the past few months, he had noticed a few changes. His old clothes were looser in places, while being tighter in others, and he’d definitely developed a bit of muscle; while he hadn’t given it much thought, her compliment confirmed his suspicions on the matter. “Secondly,” the mare continued, glancing to his goin, “like Ah said, ya ain’t got nothin’ ta ‘shamed about down there. Trust me, Ah’ve seen stallions packin’ less heat.” He wasn’t sure if she was flirting or being honest with him - either way, he felt himself starting to blush. Since stallions typically had their junk in a sheath, neatly stored between their thighs, it wasn’t like he’d ever had a good look at what sort of endowment they had - nevertheless, her comment just didn’t sound right. Unable to help himself, praying he wasn’t about to regret the impulsive decision, he gulped. “You’re kidding me, right?” he meekly asked. “No sir, not one bit - at least, Ah don’t reckon so,” she responded, proudly grinning. “Since Ah did only catch a glimpse of it, Ah can’t rightly be sure…” Anon was at an impasse. As things were, he had one of two choices; either he could move his hands and give her an unfettered view of his package, which she’d more than likely seen at some point or another, or he could take the cowardly way out, turning around and pulling his pants up. A handful of tense, silent seconds passed, until he made his decision. Uncovering himself, giving her an unabashed look at his goods, he moved his hands to his sides. “Ta-da,” he weakly laughed. Stepping closer, inspecting his equipment, Applejack squinted. “It’s a little funny lookin’ -” she glibly remarked, only then tearing her eyes off his nethers, “n...not like that’s a bad thing or nothin’.” “So can we wash up now? I’d really rather not have your sister or grandma stumble on us like this,” he groaned, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Apparently, she was way ahead of him. By the time he opened his eyes, he noticed her trotting over to the upturned crate. Dipping her head, clamping her teeth on the wash rag, she kicked the soap over in his direction. Awkwardness of the situation aside, he was a bit relieved to get himself cleaned up; loitering around, while smelling like a sweaty gym sock, wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time. “Mmm mm mph,” Applejack muffled around the cloth. As the man reached for the rag, she spit it into his hand. “Ah’ll hold the hose for ya.” “Thanks,” he huffed, squatting down and grabbing the sizeable bar of soap. The second he went to stand, water began cascading over him. Wiping his face, seeing his friend merrily showering him with the hose, he chuckled. “Double thanks.” There was no denying how refreshing the tepid water felt, leaving him to sigh contentedly. Seeing little point in delaying the inevitable, he lathered the cloth and set to cleaning himself. It was definitely strange to be washing in front of someone, but his tension gradually eased. Applejack didn’t say a word, nor did she eyeball him; she simply focused on directing the spraying hose where it was needed. In a matter of minutes, after cleaning and rinsing off, he was done. Sadly, it wasn’t until after he’d finished that he recognized that there was a small problem; with his outfit covered in mud, and his closest clean change of clothes in the house, he wasn’t quite sure how he’d be able to get inside without donning his sullied garments. Pursing his lips, he looked over to his host. “You don’t happen to have any towels or sheets in the barn, do you?” he inquired, realizing that a makeshift toga was better than nothing. Applejack mutedly nodded, with the hose clamped in her teeth. As the man took the gushing tube from her muzzle, she motioned towards the shed. “Got a cloth tarp in there that ya could use. Just let me wash up real quick.” “Sure, no problem,” Anon responded. Angling the water over her back, with the cool air reminding him of how exposed he was, he hoped she wouldn’t take too long. Rocking back, the mare seated herself on the wetted soil. “Ya mind passin’ me the soap? Can’t rightly wash mahself without it, can Ah?” Her request, while commonsensical, sparked an interesting question. As he stepped over to her, holding the bar, he directed the hose away. “How exactly does an earth pony wash themself? I know that probably sounds stupid, but it’s not like I’ve ever seen it done or anything.” Applejack laughed and slapped her knee, shaking her head in amusement. “‘Bout like you did, Ah reckon. We just hold the soap in our mouth and do the best we can. Yeah, it tastes pretty terrible, but it ain’t like we got many options - well, unless we got somepony helpin’.” Truth be told, Anon had never done more than speculate on how earth ponies bathed, so the revelation was a bit jarring. He couldn’t imagine how bad the soap must have tasted, nor how they were able to wash all of themselves without aid. Glowering at the soap, he was stricken with the sudden urge to lend her a hand; for pete’s sake, it was the least he could do for her! “Close your eyes,” he softly instructed. As she opened her mouth, likely to protest, he pressed a finger to her lips. “Just trust me…” Shooting him a suspicious look, she did as asked. It was only after he waved his hand in front of her face, checking to see if she was peeking, did he begin to move. His shrewd and spontaneous plan served a dual purpose; he’d be able to help her clean and retain a bit of his dignity, since she wasn’t able to see him walking around in the buff. Studiously walking around her seated form, wetting her back, sides, and chest, he came to rest before her. “Alright, stand up and keep your eyes shut.” With her ears swiveled towards him, she steadily got to her hooves. Anon stepped back, allowing her to stand, he delicately removed the hat from atop her head. As her snout scrunched and brow furrowed, he stepped over and set the accessory within the nearby box. It was a bit humbling to see her trust in him, and it warmed his heart - still, good faith or no, it didn’t feel right to start bathing her without her blessing. “Since it’s late, would you mind if I help?” he murmured. “S’long as ya don’t enjoy yourself too much,” she teased, prompting him to douse her head. Flinching slightly, flipping the dampened mane from her face, she glowered in his direction; even blind, with her remarkable sense of hearing, she knew right where he was. “Yeah, Ah reckon Ah deserved that one…” Anon chuckled to himself and pinched the hose off. Having hosed her down, seeing no reason to dally, he set himself to task. He saw no need to use the wash cloth, given her short coat of fur, so he opted to simply lather her up then scrub her with his digits. Starting at her head, shampooing her mane and thoroughly rinsing her face and neck, he gradually made his way down her body. Leaning into his hand, the mare gently shivered. “Mmmmm - Ah could definitely get used to this.” Smiling to himself, Anon was stricken with an idea. Since she seemed comfortable with him, and because he already had his hands on her, he figured it couldn’t hurt to try something. Applying more force, his careful lathering transitioned into an impromptu massage. As his fingers sank into her hide, working the kinks out of her taut muscles, he grew increasingly relaxed. They had a mutual trust that, until that moment, he didn’t fully realize existed. There he was, in the nude, washing a lady horse who he was lucky enough to call a friend. After finishing one shoulder and foreleg, which she was gracious enough to lift for him, he strolled around to clean the opposite limb. It was oddly soothing, rubbing her down and working the dirt and sweat out of her coat, and he quickly lost himself to it. Honestly, he couldn’t say how long he’d spent cleaning her, before he finally reached her hind quarters. As his palm glided over her flank, settling upon one sculpted thigh, he paused. Even though he’d touched or kneaded nearly every part of her, he wasn’t sure about the etiquette of moving closer to her marish bits. “Somethin’ wrong?” she asked, lifting and cocking her head. “You’re…” he began, attempting to choose his words wisely, “comfortable with me washing back here?” “Why wouldn’t Ah be? We’re both adults, ain’t we?” she countered. Lifting her tail and swinging it away from him, she shamelessly gave him open access to her tush. “If’n Ah’m bein’ truthful, Ah really appreciate this, by the way.” Anon nodded, shuffling to her backside and trying not to eye her rear. She’d made a darn good point, but that did little to ease his tension on the matter - not because he didn’t want to help her, but because he was concerned he may end up getting distracted. Figuring he’d start at her hooves and work his way up, unwilling to disappoint her, he squatted down. Lathering up her legs was easy enough, at first, but he eventually hit a shag. As he worked his way up her legs, steadily moving to the meatier areas of the limbs, his pulse began to quicken. Between her warmth against his palms, the sensation of her slick fur on his fingers, and the exquisite definition of her legs, his thoughts drifted into somewhat dubious waters. As he was half way done, having just gotten past her knees, her tail flipped and lightly slapped against his face. “Don’t forget mah tail,” Applejack reminded him. The wet impact didn’t hurt, though it caused him to look up. Until that moment, he’d kept his eyes on the ground, both out of politeness and because he wanted to avoid the temptation of gazing at her loins, but that ended in an instant. Resting just before him, less than a foot away, sat the darkened flesh of her marehood. Her sex was similar to a human’s, but there were several distinct differences; for starters, the outer lips appeared thicker and, judging from the look of it, more durable than a woman’s. Another interesting note was the lack of hair; the fur around her entrance thinned to nothing, giving way to soft, bare skin. The sight left him frozen in place, leaving him to wonder how it would feel. “Well lookie here,” she smugly purred, causing the man to bolt upright. “Looks like somepony was a little more interested than I thought.” “I...I can explain,” Anon stammered, backing away. Affixing him with one emerald eye, keeping her tail flagged and flung to the side, she didn’t budge a muscle. “Go’on then.” “I was - uh - well…” he sputtered, trying and failing to come up with an excuse. “Well I -” “Anon,” she cut him off, steadily turning to face him. “Ain’t no shame in having natural urges…” Askance, unsure of what to say, he noticed her gaze moving down his neck, over his chest, and to his waist. Peering downward, his blood ran cold. At some point or another, likely when he’d been face to face with her nethers, he’d gotten wood. To say he was mortified would be an understatement, leaving him utterly speechless. Fortunately, his friend was far less sheepish than he was about the development. “How’s about we come to a little agreement,” she muttered, drawing a forehoof up his leg. “Seein’ as how it looks like we could both use a little bit of relief, how ‘bout we scratch each other’s backs?” Before he could ask what she’d meant, desperately trying to process everything that was happening, she lazily wheeled around, faced away from him, and braced her hind legs. Though he was far from an expert on equine behavior, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was doing. Lowering her chest slightly, she arched her back and presented herself. Considering Applejack’s frank assessment and brazen actions, he had no doubt that she wanted him to take advantage of the situation - a fact that his inner desires were all too keen to act on. It had been ages since he’d had a lay, well before he’d wound up in Equestria, so the offer was extraordinarily compelling. Since he had no way of knowing when he’d end up back home, or if returning home was even possible, breaching the interspecies barrier may be his only chance of getting some, as his friend had put it, relief. Licking his lips, eyeing her marehood, he took a small step forward. It may have been his imagination, but her sex appeared even more succulent than ever - not just moist from the water, but from her own excitement. As he rested a hand on her hip, sweetly caressing her, her entrance winked. The sight of her bulging clit and rosy pink interior was the straw that broke the camel’s back, fanning the flames of his carnal wants. Shuffling into position, he grabbed his rigid length and stepped closer to her. Peering down his chest, guiding himself to her entrance, he swallowed hard. For him to have such casual sex would have been weird enough, but doing it with an entirely different species was something he never thought he’d do - still, he’d passed the point of no return. As the heat of her drooling entrance graced the tip of his shaft, he pressed his hips forward. He shuddered, as she embraced his manhood. Hot, slick, and surprisingly snug, she felt absolutely amazing. The velvety folds of her depths were just as blissful as a woman’s, if not more so, providing him with all the inspiration he needed. Lifting his free hand, savoring the sensations she afforded him, he grasped her hips and hilted. “I’m...” he croaked, struggling not to let his impulses take control, “I’m gonna start now.” A nod from Applejack would have sufficed, but the pragmatic mare had something all the more compelling in mind. Rocking forward, unsheathing a bit of his length, she gingerly bucked back against him. The move wasn’t hard, though it was more than enough to get things going. Withdrawing slightly, tightening his grip, he thrust into her. Besides feeling incredible, there was some novel joy about being with a female so much larger and more powerful than himself; it was almost primal. The only reason why he was rutting her was because she allowed him to, and that fact made it especially arousing. Gazing at her backside, watching his shaft rhythmically disappear into her clinging snatch, he moved incrementally faster. It wasn’t long before Applejack joined him, matching his pace and rolling her hips back to meet his thrusts. Clenching on his backstrokes, while relaxing on his plunges, she milked his manhood like no woman ever had. Whether or not the supreme pelvic control was a trait that all mares shared, or if his strapping host was unique with the talent, he couldn’t say - either way, it was a jaw dropping revelation. Pounding away, feeling his balls slap against her clit, he draped himself over her and shifted his grasp. Wrapping his arms around her sides, virtually hugging her from behind, his length pistoned her depths. As the minutes dragged on, he felt her tremble beneath him. “D...don’t stop,” she whimpered. More than happy to oblige her, he pulled out all the stops. Slamming his hips into her tush, filling the air with a steady Plap Plap Plap of their colliding bodies, he fought to push her to the edge. Suddenly, seemingly from nowhere, her entire body tensed. Gnawing her lip, doing her level best to stay quiet, she muffled an orgasmic cry, while climactic juices gushed out of her spasming marehood. He would have never thought he could bring a horse to orgasm, but the abrupt turn sent him roaring towards release. His heart thundered in his chest, his length throbbed, and his plowing became frantic, almost desperate. Holding her tightly, feeling himself reaching a tipping point, he drew a breath. “I’m…I’m gonna -” “Inside!” she bleated, drawing his eye and breaking his focus. Her plea was a death knell, spelling his end and pushing him past the brink. Hilting himself and fiercely seizing her hips, he was overcome with rapture. Shot after shot of his thick, virile spunk poured into her, painting her canal with his rich essence. Be it by fate, luck, skill, or some combination of the three, she clamped down around him, needily coaxing every last drop of his seed out of his throbbing length. Heaving air into his chest, riding out his ecstasy, the warm, welcoming bliss of a post-lay stupor settled over him. Though he was still surprised that things had taken such a scandalous and bawdy turn, he couldn’t care less - at least, not for the time being. As far as he was concerned, they’d both had fun and, judging from her reaction, she’d had one heck of a climax herself. Straightening up ever so slightly, taking care not to dislodge the man, Applejack lovingly craned her neck around towards him. “Anon, can Ah ask something?” “Huh?” he grunted, wearily looking up at her. Blushing slightly, bashfully looking away, she rubbed her neck with one forehoof. “Do all humans last that long?” “I...huh?” Anon huffed, even more confused than before. Unsteadily pushing himself up, he stepped back and hauled his softening shaft from her. “Last long?” “Well - uh - most stallions won’t last longer than a minute or so, but you was going at it for what felt like forever,” she reverently clarified, shakily turning towards him. “Can’t say Ah ever…” she trailed off, nervously pawing at the ground and casting her head to the side. “Ever…?” Anon let the question hand, exceedingly curious to hear what she had to say. “Ah mean, Ah ain’t never really had an experience like that,” she mumbled. Though he wasn’t about to press the matter, Anon read between the lines. If stallions were two-pump chumps - at least, the ones she’d been with in the past - he could understand how he’d made her peak. Stepping over, drawing one hand up her chin and turning her head to face him, he beamed. “Thank you,” he softly stated, pulling her into a hug. Wrapping one foreleg around his waist, she pressed her face against his chest. “Well, ya know, if’n ya ever get ta feeling a little antsy, just let me know.” Grinning like an idiot, lovingly stroking her back, he relished the embrace. It had been a first for the both of them, unplanned but appreciated all the same, and it made their connection even more special than it already was. He didn’t want to come off as too enthusiastic, so he kept his mouth shut, but something told him that it wouldn’t be the last time they ended up fooling around...