Enjoy the Silence
April showers, bring May flowers. That was the saying from your world, but here in Equestria the phrasing was a little different. April showers, bring May flowers, but ponies hate pollen, so the rain keeps fallin’. Actually, that wasn’t the ‘Equestrian version’, and well, there wasn’t a legitimate saying for the late spring season, but considering the strength of the storm you were currently in, you felt there ought to be a rhyme like that.
The month of May was coming to an end and as a part of an annual ritual, a strong storm preceded the blooming flowers of the month, washing away the pollen that hung like a thick mist in the air and stuck to rocks, trees, and houses like a wine stain. The annual rain was almost like a symbol for the coming summer that was just around the corner. You had seen the late spring rains in the past from the safety of your ‘home’ out in the wilderness, but this would be your first time experiencing it in person.
In the darkness of night, you grasped desperately at your home as the winds of the storm blew harder. Your home was a canvas tarp that was kept up by two staves at opposite ends and secured by ropes pinned to the ground with wooden stakes. But in the middle of the raging storm, the stakes that kept the tent secured were ripped from the ground and you were left to try and salvage the situation. Despite your earned familiarity with mother nature, you knew there was precious little for you to do given the situation. At this point, reigning in the tarp and wrapping yourself in it for warmth would be the most you would be able to do to get through the night, but first you had to have the tarp.
People often forget the terrifying strength that the wind possesses and this instant the wind seemed adamant about torturing you on this miserable night. You were soaked to the bone, and as you shivered, teeth chattering, the cruel wind whipped against your face and limbs, each lash stinging your exposed skin. Your hair, which hadn’t been cut in over two years, contributed to your pain as long wisps of wet hair slapped against your face and obscured your vision further. If not for the dim porch light behind you, you would have likely been left with nothing to weather the storm with. If you had lost your tarp, you would be left to wait until either the rain stopped or the morning came, whichever happened first.
Casting a discrete glance behind you to the source of the light, you spied a pair of ponies, both clad in golden armor. Both had white fur but one possessed a pair of wings while the other had a single horn atop their head. While they may have differed in appearance, what they had in common was their obvious disregard for you as you struggled to keep your home from flying away. Silently cursing them, you turn your attention back to the tarp. If it were up to you, the tarp would have been abandoned and you would have made a home out of one of the hundreds of apple trees on this farm, but you were positive the two guards wouldn’t allow it. After all, how could they guard you from the safety of the roofed porch while you hid in the branches of an apple tree.
Guard. Guard wasn’t the right word, at least it didn’t feel like the right word. Them being around was more like constantly having your probationary officer looking over your shoulder, not that you knew what it was like, you were a stand up citizen in your country before being whisked away to a land far far away. Where you came from, you would be on your best behavior and come to the police station for your scheduled meeting with your assigned officer, but with these guards watching every move you made, there was hardly ever a chance to let out even an exhausted sigh. One wrong move and you would find your sentence extended by an extra six months at best.
Currently, you were two months into a ten year sentence. Your crime? Burglary, theft, evasion of authorities, and any other infraction, misdemeanour or crime you committed in the last two years. Of course, what you did in that time didn’t feel nearly as bad as your punishers made it out to sound. You were just doing what you needed to do to stay alive in these foreign lands. Be it stealing food, clothes, or tools, it was all so you could live another day. But despite how you saw it, the species of the land you found yourself in didn’t see it that way and as soon as you had fallen into their hands- or rather, hooves, they stacked each and every crime you had committed on top of each other until the time you would have spent behind bars matched your life expectancy.
But it appeared a pony in a place of power pitied you and managed to get you a far better sentence, not that you had any say in it. At least, that was what you were told as you were being carted off to fulfil your sentence. Ten years, you would spend that time repaying the country of Equestria for the trouble you’ve caused them through your will to survive. But it wasn’t all that bad, that’s what the ponies had insisted. After all, they gave you a job, a home, and clothes. A sentence, a tent and cot, and a large burlap sack. Currently, your home was moments away from being torn from your hands, your dirty and worn clothes were soaked through, and your job, well, that wouldn’t be going anywhere so long as you made it through the night.
For a brief moment, you could feel a lull in the winds. Taking the opportunity, you pulled as much of the tarp to your chest before the wind returned to its former intensity. Though the sound of the wind and rain practically deafened you, the conversation between the two guards could just barely be heard, though their voices sounded like unintelligible muttering due to the distance. Suddenly, the sounds that had been repeating the last hour were interrupted by new sounds. The unforgettable rattling of metal from a turning door handle could be heard followed by the creak of old hinges as a door swung open. Turning away from your home you spot the cause of the noise, an orange pony wearing a cowboy hat. She's talking to the two guards who have quickly abandoned watching you struggle in favor of the female in front of them.
You stare for too long however as the orange mare makes eye contact with you for the briefest of moments. You freeze up as you meet her emerald green gaze and quickly turn back to gathering the rest of the tent. The sound from their conversation continues for a bit. As curious as you were about the conversation happening on the porch, you couldn’t hear more than the tail ends of words that meant nothing on their own. As you finally finished collecting the tent tarp between your arms, you heard two sets of clops and turned your head towards the sound. You spotted the two guard ponies walking off side by side, the unicorn creating a bubble of sorts to shield them from the rain. If you weren’t mistaken, they were walking off towards the main town. Ponyville was the name of the little village if you recall.
Turning further to look at the porch, you spot the mare of the house staring the duo down as they walk off into the night, their presence signaled by the dim light of a lantern. Making sure not to look longer than necessary, you turn your attention back to the tarp and you begin to consider how to untangle the canvas without losing it to the wind. But before you could begin, a shout sounded out from behind you. You turn around to see the lone pony on the porch looking towards you, her hoof raised and waving at you, signalling you over. You comply.
Looking towards where the guard ponies walked off, you quickly look back to the mare. You slouch slightly to make yourself appear smaller. Even with the added height from the deck, you were still taller than the pony now standing in front of you. Casting your gaze downwards, you speak to the mare. “You called, Ms. Applejack?”
Looking past you and into the pitch black fields behind you, she doesn’t appear to try and look at you as she speaks. “Feelin’ cold?”
The question catches you by surprise, but you don’t let it show. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.”
You catch a glimpse of annoyance on Ms. Applejack’s face but you ignore it.
“An’ you think you'll still be peachy keen by mornin’?”
“I’ll be perfectly fine outside,” you respond, hoping the new tone doesn’t annoy the mare further, yet in response she lifts a hoof that presses into her forehead as she lets out a sigh.
“Look mister, ah am tellin’ you tuh come inside so you can warm up yer hairless hide, ah don’t wanna see you sneezing and sniveling next morning when you're out in the fields, ya hear!” she finishes. Her little outburst causes you to wince at the tone. You decide it’s best to simply do what she wants you to do.
“What would you like me to do with this,” you ask, motioning to the tarp in your hands.
“Take yer belongings an’ put ‘em on the porch, they won’t fly away under ‘er,” she says, tapping a hoof against the floorboards.
Ms. Applejack waits for you as you quickly collect the staves and cot, which luckily haven’t been blown away and soon enough they’re squared away on the porch. Ms. Applejack nods at the pile before opening up the door to the farm house. Looking in from your position on the porch, you could see the dimly lit halls and pictures hanging from the walls. It all looked very homely. Standing in the doorway, Ms. Applejack looks back at you before speaking up. “Come on! Ya tryin’ tuh stay outside all night?”
oo000OOOO000oo
You had met Ms. Applejack a couple weeks ago. You remember it was an early spring day, the snow and frost had only just gone away but the cold was still there to bite at your exposed skin. Gathered outside the farmhouse was the Apple family. The family consisted of four ponies, one stallion and three mares.
The stallion had red fur, orange hair, and a yoke around his neck. He was definitely one of the largest ponies you’ve seen so far. As you approached the farm, he seemed to be stoic, but a hint of suspicion could be seen in his eyes. Mr. Macintosh was how you addressed him.
The eldest mare was lime green and had grey hair, indicating her age, and like Big Macintosh, she eyed you with some suspicion but there seemed to be a bit of curiosity. As you came to learn, Ms. Granny Smith was the one who proposed you work on the farm.
The youngest of the mares was a child named Apple Bloom. She had a butter yellow coat, apple red hair, and an oversized bow that sat on the back of her head. From behind her older brother, she stared at you with a look of fear and awe.
Last, was an orange mare with blonde hair and a stetson hat. Out of the four of them her expression was the easiest to read. The look in her eye told you exactly how she felt about having you here to fulfil your sentence.
“This is the one that will be staying here to help on the farm,” a guard pony said from beside you.
“A group of guards will be with him for your security, so you won’t have to worry about it getting uppity with you,” the same guard stated before turning to you, “isn’t that right?”
You don’t say anything at first. A hoof to the back of your knee nearly causes your leg to buckle, the sensation alerting you to your mistake.
“Yes sir,” you reply. Satisfied with the answer, the guard turns back to the family before putting on a warm smile. “Any questions?”
For a few brief moments everyone was quiet, until Ms. Applejack’s southern drawl broke the uncomfortable silence.
“An’ do you expect us to keep him in our home?” she asked, her tone soaked in dissatisfaction. She likely was against the idea of having a convict work on her farm, let alone live on it. A lime green hoof interrupted Ms. Applejack’s glaring as she looked at her grandmother. Ms. Smith’s silent but imposing expression caused the orange mare to take a step back and turn her face away from you, the action poorly hiding her unhappy expression.
“What mah gran’ daughter meant tuh ask was if we would need tuh house our guest,” she says, motioning to you before continuing, “after all, ah don’t believe we ‘ave the space to let ‘em sleep inside comfortably.”
“No need for concern Granny Smith, we have temporary housing all lined up. We can get the tent and cot set up wherever you would like it to be kept,” came the response from the smiling guard. Ms. Smith nodded in response before asking her last question.
“An’ when do ya reckon we’ll be ready to begin?”
Just like that, having been on the property for less than ten minutes you found yourself in the middle of the impressive apple orchard following Mr. Macintosh and Ms. Applejack to where you would begin your work. It goes without saying that a pair of guards walked adjacent to you, just far enough to avoid being grabbed and just close enough to stick you, should the need arise.
Before setting off into the forest of apple trees, the Apple siblings gave you a yoke that barely fit over your head before hooking you to a cart. You were trudging forward as you pulled the cart along. It wasn’t as heavy as it looked and you managed to keep pace with the two ponies. Before long you had reached your destination, a seemingly normal place somewhere deep in the orchard. You looked around, curious about what your first task would be, but all you could see were trees upon trees. Nothing seemed to be in need of attention. But before you could open your mouth, a loud THWACK startled you, causing you to stand a little straighter and the guards to tighten their grips on their weapons.
Looking to the source of the sound, another THWACK rings out and then another, then another. The farm ponies had walked up to a tree on each side of the row you were walking on and began to let loose a flurry of kicks on the trees, each strike shaking the tree and causing dead leaves and branches to fall. Three kicks to each tree and the pair moved on to the next set. After clearing her third tree, Ms. Applejack takes notice of you watching them. Storming away from her next tree, Mr. Macintosh stops kicking, following the mare with his eyes. As she quickly approached, you heard the guards’ armor shuffle, unsure if they should prevent her from coming any closer. Before they can even say something to the mare, she stops right in front of you before jabbing a hoof into your abdomen while looking you in the eye.
“Look mister, we run a tight ship here on this farm, unless you plan on leaving, ah suggest you start picking up the dead branches,” Ms. Applejack spits. Everyone else is quiet as they wait for your response. You gulp before giving the imposing mare a nod before giving a soft, “Yes ma’am.”
Quickly unlatching the yoke from around your neck, you moved from tree to tree, collecting the fallen leaves and branches before tossing them into the cart. And just like that, you started the first day of your sentence on Sweet Apple Acres.
Days passed by, and before long so did weeks. And with each new day, new tasks were given to you: feeding livestock, cleaning their pens, hauling equipment and machinery to and from the barn, and many more that you couldn’t bother to list. Each day of hard work earned you three hot meals, a cold barrel of water to wash off with, and a smile from Ms. Smith in the morning and evening. While you lived on the same premise as the four other ponies, you only seemed to ever interact with the elder three, not that you minded, but from time to time you could feel a pair of young curious eyes burning into your back as you worked.
Now that you think about it, Ms. Smith was really the only one you interacted with outside of work. Mr. Macintosh and Ms. Applejack were similar with regard to how often they spoke to you, only speaking when explaining your tasks for the day or to demean you when you made a mistake, though that was only done by the latter. But despite their cold attitudes, you could feel that the two of them were slowly starting to warm up to you, even by a modicum. At least that’s how you interpreted the distinct lack of verbal abuse from Ms. Applejack and Mr. Macintosh’s relaxed demeanor around you.
Though Ms. Smith also explained your tasks and chores like the other two, she seemed to at least try to say more than what was necessary. Asking about how the work was, if you liked the food, and other short questions that you responded to with short answers. Aside from the farm ponies, there was at least one other creature that interacted with you regularly and far more often than any of the Apples. It was a little brown and white dog with a red collar around its neck with a name tag that read, Winona. Though at first she merely barked as you worked or ate in your tent, a few pieces of food were enough to get her to quiet down. From time to time she would visit you in your tent for food or affection if she wasn’t busy herding the livestock and such.
Besides your own experiences these last few weeks, you have grown to respect the amount of time and effort this family has put into perfecting their craft, working from first light to last light, with the occasional day off here and there. And though they never showed it around you, it was clear how much each family member meant to the other. It was sweet, really. Families like that should be cherished…
You continue to work, day in and day out, with days off coming once every two weeks. On your days off, you would run up and down rows, climb trees, wash your burlap tunic, and just about anything that would keep you busy. The only thing you feared more than the ponies was the silence that came when you didn’t do anything. You would sometimes actively resist taking a day off by doing your chores or working with whichever pony happened to be in the field that day. All of that just to keep yourself busy.
Your decision to work on your days off seemed to surprise both the Apples and guards alike. Perhaps they thought it was a ploy to earn their favor or to get some brownie points so your sentence could be reduced. Regardless of what they may have thought, they never said a word about it to you.
You let out a sigh as you finish reminiscing about the last few weeks. In order to break the silence, you dunk your head under the surface of the warm water of the bath Ms. Applejack had drawn for you. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say you were surprised to find a warm bath waiting for you when you entered the Apple family home for the first time. The house was quiet when you entered, the only sounds being the hoof and foot falls of you and Ms. Applejack as she led you to the bathroom. Sinking deeper into the water, you revelled in the pleasant heat as the warm water chipped away at the numbness in your skin from being out in the rain. This was your first hot bath since coming to Equestria.
You didn’t know how to feel about this situation. You knew that you should have been happy to enjoy the wonders of indoor plumbing, but whatever happiness that you might have felt was empty if anything. You abandoned the thought as soon as it reared its ugly head and that was when you began to think about the weeks since you came to Sweet Apple Acres. When you finish recalling the recent memories, you decide to use the bath as it was intended to be used. With a bar of soap in hand, you vigorously scrubbed your arms, legs and torso, before moving to your head then to your groin. Your hair, which had grown long and shaggy in the last two years, was quite the opponent as you struggled to wash it without yanking out the knotted hairs. But despite the struggle, you came out victorious against your mangy mop of hair, now matted to your head, mostly free of tangles and knots.
Then came silence. You had finished washing yourself, you had reminisced about one of the few things you felt comfortable thinking about, what else was there to do? You soon realize there was nothing and after reaching that conclusion, you stood up in the wooden tub, water cascading off your robust body. Your time in the wild had stripped your body of any noticeable body fat. Hunting and foraging kept you active and the limited amount of food you got your hands on was just enough to maintain your body from its daily exercise. If anything, you felt that you could see some fat start to return as you looked down to your stomach, no doubt a result of the sugar filled pies and treats Ms. Smith added to each dinner.
Stepping out of the tub, you grab a towel from a rack before rubbing the moisture off your body. Though you had dried off every part of your body, your hair still remained damp as it laid flat against your neck and upper back. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot your reflection in a mirror. Turning to the reflective pane of glass, you lower your body to look at your reflection, something you haven’t seen in years. The once youthful face you possessed was now unrecognizable, causing you to grimace at your weathered appearance. It wasn’t a surprise why the ponies seemed to be so on edge around you, if you had seen yourself back home, you wouldn’t think twice about avoiding yourself.
Your hair, once cut short in a reasonably fashionable style, was now a mass that limply hung from your head. Eyes that once shone brilliantly, were now like little black holes that sucked in what little light there was, never letting them escape. The pair of irises were complemented by subtle yet noticeable dark bags that hung under your eyes like empty sails. And your chin and cheeks, formerly devoid of any hair, were now like jungles, a long beard and mustache hiding your neck and lips. You would have been more impressed with your beard if it wasn’t for the circumstances it grew in. Looking down from the mirror, you spied an old fashioned single blade razor.
You pick up the thing, holding it gingerly in your hand. Considering there was only one stallion that you knew of in this family, you assume the razor belonged to Mr. Macintosh. You are positive Ms. Applejack had forgotten to remove such an item from the restroom when drawing your bath. You figure it would be best to leave the razor be, lest you get in trouble for touching it. But another glance into the mirror, convinced you otherwise, and opening the blade, you quickly grabbed a fist full of your beard before slicing at the scraggly mass. The blade is obviously well kept as it cuts through your beard without even catching. Looking down at your hand filled with hair, you plug the sink before going to town.
You had never used a single blade razor in your life and you weren’t interested in cutting your face in an attempt to rid yourself of the beard. Grabbing the longest parts of your beard, you continued to cut and cut, more and more hair falling from your face and into the sink below. And before you know it, there is hardly any hair that you can even grasp as you look up to your reflection. Your lips and neck that were once hidden were now visible, and while the job you had done was far from even average, your face looked better than it had before. The length of your facial hair was roughly a centimeter long, just long enough for you to pitch it between your thumb and index finger.
Wrapping a hand around your hair, you considered going for that as well but you figured you had spent enough time in the bathroom and quickly cleaned up the hair that sat in the sink. Rubbing your hands free of any stray hairs, you take the towel that you dried yourself with, and wrap it around your waist. The towel was small for you, just barely reaching around your waist and just barely covering your private parts. You pick up your drenched burlap tunic next. You decide not to put it on, especially when wearing it around the house would just make a wet mess and leave you cold. After placing the tunic on a towel hanger to dry, you step out of the bathroom and glance around looking for where Ms. Applejack might be. Before long, you hear a voice call out.
“In the kitchen!”
Following the voice, you duck under the doorway as you step into the kitchen. You quickly spot the orange mare of the house and she turns around to look at you. Spotting you, her eyebrows go up, no doubt wondering where most of your beard went, but then it clicks and her eyes narrow.
“Ahh, it seems ah forgot the razor,” Ms. Applejack dryly states. A hand goes to the back of your head, scratching at a non-existent itch as you think of a response.
“It was on the sink, I thought you might have forgotten about it, but I really wanted to get rid of my beard so...” you say, trailing off at the end. She relaxes slightly at your explanation.
“Is the razor still on the sink?” Ms. Applejack inquires.
“Yes ma’am,” you respond quickly.
“An’ why exactly did you not take everything off your face?” she questions, leaning against the countertop.
“I… Well, I don’t know how to use a razor blade…” you sheepishly answer.
Ms. Applejack looks at you blankly for a few moments before her lips curled up slightly as she stifled a laugh behind a hoof. You remain quiet but you’re surprised to say the least, not once have you seen the orange mare in front of you smile since you arrived here. Despite her hoof’s best efforts, her giggles managed to escape her lips. You had to admit, she had a very cute laugh.
“Whoa nelly, ah wasn’t sure what you’d tell me but at least you're honest,” she says, wiping a tear of laughter from one eye. You're not sure if you should continue your placid expression or if you should laugh along with Ms. Applejack. You opt for the former. You ponder how she seemed to accept your explanation so quickly, were all ponies this trusting? Shaking off the last of her giggles, straightening herself out and looking back up to you again, she continues.
“Well, you enjoy yer bath?”
“Yes, it was pleasant,” you reply. Ms. Applejack nods slowly at your response, as if she were biding her time to think of something else to say. Turning to a kettle on the stove top, she asks another question.
“Care for a warm drink?”
You’re once again surprised as Ms. Applejack offers you a beverage. Regardless of your surprise, you shook off your shock and opened your mouth to decline the offer but you caught yourself before you could say no. Given what all has happened so far tonight, you wouldn’t be surprised if declining angered her. Editing your response, you reply.
“Would you happen to have any coffee?” you inquire.
“Depends, would ya be fine with decaf?” Ms. Applejack said, replying with a small smile on her lips.
“All the better,” you say with your own gentle smile.
Sitting at the table, or rather kneeling, you watched as Ms. Applejack filled a pony sized mug with some decaf coffee mix before pouring water from the whistling kettle into the cup, followed by a splash of milk. Just how you drank it back home. Ms. Applejack grasped the handle of the hot mug with her teeth, and despite the awkward angle, she managed to deliver the apple themed mug of coffee to you with no mishaps.
“There y’are,” Ms. Applejack said, looking at you with a closed lip smile. You bow your head to her mouthing the words ‘thank you’ as your hands wrap around the small cup as you take a deep breath, taking in the nostalgic smell of coffee. For a moment, the mare in front of you isn’t Ms. Applejack, but an old man, holding a piping hot cup of decaf coffee grinning at you. In less than a fraction of a second the image of the smiling man is gone and Ms. Applejack has returned, still softly smiling. You feel your vision blur for a moment, but you force the blurry moisture away with a flurry of blinks as you smile at the bittersweet memory.
Determined to move away from the thoughts that threaten to resurface you quickly, but carefully, bring the cup to your lips before taking a small sip. The small amount of coffee in your mouth manages to burn your tongue as you urgently force the rest of liquid down your throat, your esophagus burning as the piping hot coffee rushes to your stomach. Seeking any relief for your poor tongue, you stick it out and pant hoping your breaths can help cool it off. You must have looked ridiculous because Ms. Applejack is once again trying to stifle her laughter at your plight. There it was again, that cute little laugh. Considering how cold she was to you the last few weeks, you would have never thought such an adorable sound could come from her.
“Hehe, ya burn yer tongue there sugarcube?” Ms. Applejack managed to say between chuckles.
You continue to try and cool off your tongue in response. With her laughter subsiding, Ms. Applejack spoke again.
“Be careful next time, water jus’ came off the kettle,” she warns.
“Yaah, ah caan thell,” you say with your tongue sticking out, which earns another round of giggles from the farm mare. Thankfully the burning sensation on your tongue begins to fade and you’re able to pull your tongue back into your mouth. Turning your attention back to your mug of joe, you take a deep breath before blowing at the surface of the liquid. Satisfied with your blowing, you once again bring the cup to your lips and take a sip. And like before the coffee is still hot, but it was a pleasant hot, the kind of hot that warms your chest on a freezing winter night, or in your case, a cold late spring evening. Swallowing, you let out a content sigh as you felt your body relax.
“Looks like yer really enjoyin’ that cuppa coffee,” Ms. Applejack commented from her seat diagonal to where you knelt.
“I haven’t had a drink like this in ages,” you say barely containing your excitement as you smiled a wide toothy smile. Glancing up to Ms. Applejack, you notice her gaze fixed on your mouth, specifically your teeth. Your lips relax, quickly covering your canines and incisors before apologizing.
“I’m sorry about that,” you say before anxiously swallowing.
Ms. Applejack sits up straighter in her seat at your words as she quickly responds.
“Ah- no ah… It’s fine, ah was jus’ lookin’, you got nothin’ to be apologizing for.”
You don’t say anything and simply nod at her response. Ms. Applejack must have sensed the awkward air as she quickly moved to a new topic.
“Well, sounds like you like decaf coffee quite a bit,” Ms. Applejack commented.
“Heh, far from it, but I got some nice memories of drinking these with my old man,” you say, only to immediately regret mentioning your past. Though you could feel yourself tense at what you just said, it seems Ms. Applejack hadn’t noticed.
“Oh! Well, that's nice tuh hear,” Ms. Applejack mentions before continuing, “Right, you say yain’t had a drink like this in a while, huh?”
You nod, confirming her observation.
“Does that mean you ain’t see your pops for a bit?” Ms. Applejack asks.
“Y-yeah, it’s been a little while,” you say, noticing that Ms. Applejack looks as if she has something to say on the topic of family.
“Well, ah think you ought to go out visit your ol’ stallion, after you finished up your time ah mean, old timers love to have friends an’ family ‘round!” Ms. Applejack stated. It was clear to you that everything she said had come from a good place, but her intention didn’t take the edge off the words as they rung in your ears.
You take a shaky but measured breath, trying to calm yourself. It was time to move the conversation elsewhere, it doesn’t matter what, just change the damn topic.
“Ms. Applejack,” you say, addressing the mare.
“Oh, you don’t have tuh say miss-”
“Why are you being so kind to me,” you say, interrupting Applejack.
“W...what?” Ms. Applejack manages to ask.
“You don’t like or trust me, that much is clear, after all, Ms. Smith was the one that wanted me to work here, not you. You work alongside me despite how you feel, but I just don’t understand,” you say, forcing out a question that's been gnawing at the back of your mind ever since you stepped foot inside.
“Why are you nice to me despite hating me?”
You didn’t expect any good to come from asking Ms. Applejack this question, you wouldn’t be surprised if you were sent back outside for your attitude. If anything, you wished you were outside, the cold rain and biting wind would quickly occupy your mind, something you desperately needed. But the quick answer you hoped you would receive didn’t come. Turning to face Ms. Applejack, you looked at her as she returned the stare, her lips parted as she tried to think of a response. You could see her orange lips begin to move as if she were about to speak only to suddenly stop. Taking a breath in through her nose and letting it out through her mouth, Ms. Applejack composed herself.
“Listen… Ah don’t hate you,” were her first words. You were silent as you continued to bore holes into her eyes with your gaze, waiting for what else she had to say.
“Ah may have been suspicious of ya back when ya first came ‘er, but ah’ve seen how ya work, an’ how much effort you put into yer work!” Ms. Applejack stated. She had more to say.
“You know how much Mac an’ ah distrusted ya, but despite that, you continued to work hard, never complaining, doing exactly what we asked ya to do. You won’t hear Mac say this but you’ve been a great help to the farm, an’ ah’m grateful for your work. An’ knowing how you choose to work, even on yer days off, ah just… Ah realized ah had been really, really rude tuh ya! An’ ah wanted to try and make up for it, that's all...” Ms. Applejack finishes, her gaze aimed at the table as her ear folded back.
You weren’t expecting an answer like this, let alone an actual response. Rubbing at the back of your head, you look around the kitchen and dining room as you think of how to respond.
“I… Thank you, all this,” you say, motioning to the cup and the house you were in, “I appreciate it.”
Ms. Applejack smiles at you, though it looks forced as she awkwardly nods at your answer, unsure of what to say next.
“So, what all didja do before coming to Sweet Apple Acres?” she suddenly asks. You knew she was aiming to hear about what you did when you were still on the run, and while you could have answered that with little trouble, you hesitated before you could respond.
“I was just going through school back then,” you begin. Your response catches Ms. Applejack off guard, but you continued before she could realize the expression she was making. “But, something happened, and… well… I just had to steal from others, and after doing that for a year or so I found myself here.”
Silence followed after telling your watered down story. Ms. Applejack appeared to be processing what you had told her and you were silently praying she would quickly break the silence. Ms. Applejack’s surprised expression had faded and she turned her attention back to you before asking another question.
“Did you ever hurt anypony?”
You let out breath through your nose at the question before answering. “Never, I avoided everybody back then,” you say with a hint of mirth in your voice at the silly question, but Ms. Applejack gives you a puzzled look. You look back at Ms. Applejack, wondering why she had such a quizzical expression, but then it dawns on you. It occurs to you now, after being around the Apple family for around two months, that they had known nothing about what you had done prior to working on their farm. All they knew was that you weren’t a pony, you committed crimes, and you were there to pay for those crimes, nothing more, nothing less.
Suddenly all the questions that Ms. Applejack had been asking started to make sense, and you quickly realized you wanted this conversation to end before she asked too many questions. Bringing the cup of decaf to your lips, you quickly down the contents of the mug, before starting to stand.
“Thank you for the bath and drink, Ms. Applejack, but I think it’s about time I try to get some sleep,” you say as you nod towards the clock above the doorway. Ms. Applejack, pushing herself out of her seat, rises as well before asking you yet another question.
“Hol’ on there, where are ye going?” she asks, confusing you.
“Well, the tent and cot are outside so I was-,” you were interrupted before you could finish your sentence.
“Now wait there mister, it’s cold ‘nuff tuh make a yak shiver out there,” she stated, pointing out the window before continuing, “so ah’m willin’ to make an exception’ t’night, we have a couch that should be large enough for you tuh sleep on.”
For at least the third time tonight, Ms. Applejack surprised you. Fumbling over your words you manage to put together a sentence.
“Oh, a-are you sure, you don’t have to do this all for-,” you were cut off once again.
“You are sleepin’. On. The. Couch,” she ordered, her tone causing you to gulp before blurting out, “Yes Ma’am!”
Satisfied with your answer, she moves from the table and walks to the doorway before motioning for you to follow her. Tailing Ms. Applejack out of the kitchen, you look around at the walls of the hall you were walking down, looking at all the photos and memorabilia that decorated them. Entering the first floor living room, the first thing you notice is the darkness of the room relative to the kitchen. While the kitchen was brightly lit, the living room was illuminated by a burning log in the fireplace, its orange light casting eerie shadows all over the room. The silence in the room made the sound of the storm just behind the window feel much louder as you and Ms. Applejack look over the room. The both of you are shaken from your silence as a roll of thunder sounds from outside.
“Here we are, take a seat there,” says Ms. Applejack, pointing a hoof at the large, oddly shaped couch. It looked a little peculiar, with all the hearts on the fabric of the sofa, but it seemed big enough to fit you. Walking over, you sit yourself down with a muted thump, your body bouncing slightly.
“Great, ah’ll go fetch ya a blanket,” Ms. Applejack says before turning around to presumably get the aforementioned blanket. You opened your mouth to insist it wasn’t necessary, but you stopped before slowly closing your mouth. Tonight had taught you that saying anything that went against Ms. Applejack’s wishes would be ignored and you internalized that as you settled into the cushions of the couch.
Doing your best to keep your mind occupied, you focus on the pitter patter of the heavy rain drops and the occasional howl from the wind. Your breathing began to slow and the drum beats sounding from your chests rang out just a little softer. As you sat with your eyes closed, focusing solely on the constant shaa from outside, you found your consciousness beginning to slowly fade as the fatigue from the day began to pull you to the land of dreams. But before you could escape reality, the sound of hooves on the wooden floor boards caused your eyes to slowly blink open. Turning your head to your right, you see the earth pony mare walk into the room with a folded red plaid blanket sitting on her back.
Walking towards the couch, Ms. Applejack stops until she is just beside you before pulling the blanket off her back before placing it on the couch. Glancing to the window, Ms. Applejack stands still, listening to the sound of heavy rain before turning to you after a few moments.
“Mind if ah take a seat?”
Though you wanted to go to sleep, you didn’t want to risk upsetting the mare. Nodding, you say, “Go ahead,” before scooting over. Giving you a smile and nod, Ms. Applejack leapt onto the sofa before turning around and laying down, settling into her spot. She was lying on the couch in a way that her rear and hind legs lay on the cushion while her front legs supported the upper half of her barrel keeping her neck and head upright. After getting comfortable in her spot she turned her head to look at you before speaking.
“Weather ponies normally don’t send heavy storms like this out often, but when they do, ah always try tuh take some time an’ just listen tuh the rain,” she explained.
Similar to what you were doing moments before, Ms. Applejack closed her eyes as she focused on the muddled sound of thousands upon thousands of raindrops impacting the house, ground and trees. She seemed to be just as focused as you, if not more, as she sat unmoving, except for the occasional flick of her ear when the howling wind’s pitch increased.
Though you were thankful she wasn’t trying to talk to you, her presence next to you kept you on edge. The way she was oriented on the couch was so her barrel went with the length of the piece of furniture, leaving her head uncomfortably close to your body. She was so close in fact, that the sound of the rain was drowned out by the soft yet deafeningly loud breaths that entered through her nose and exited through her mouth. With nothing else for your senses to focus on, you decided to focus on the one sound that occupied your auditory cortex.
Closing your eyes once again, you focus on the air passing between Ms. Applejack’s lips as your breathing and heart begin to slow down. Ms. Applejack’s breathing was like waves that splashed on sand, rolling onto the shore before slowly receding back into the deep blue depths of the ocean. Her breaths were even and unwavering, each breath identical to the last, and the more you focused the more your breathing managed to match hers. Being next to her as she quietly listened to the rain was nerve wracking, yet oddly calming. This little pony had only scowled and casted sideways glances in your direction since arriving, and despite feeling like she was acting out of character, it also seemed just like her, somehow.
You didn’t know how long you had been listening to Ms. Applejack’s breathing, but suddenly you heard her sharply inhale before letting out a long exhale, as if to signal her return to her room. The sudden change in breathing almost managed to make you choke on your own breath as you came to. You watched Ms. Applejack as she stretched out her legs and let out a yawn while still lying down. Collecting her hooves beneath her barrel, she slowly pushed herself up, stretching her back as she did, hunching forward before arching back. Turning to you, she gave you a silent nod, which you returned, before preparing to hop off of the couch.
But as she prepared to leap off the couch, a flash of lightning just outside filled the room with light before the deafening clap of thunder deafened you and Ms. Applejack. Startled at the lightning, Ms. Applejack tripped over her hooves causing her to fall towards you. Though equally as surprised as Ms. Applejack, you managed to catch the mare as she fell, redirecting her trajectory into your lap. After a few moments of holding the mare to your stomach, you realize what you were doing and quickly pull your hands away from her, keeping them next to your head.
“Ah! I-I-I… I’m sorry, t-that was an accident, I didn’t mean to grab you like that!” you exclaim, tripping just as badly over your own words as Ms. Applejack did her hooves. Ms. Applejack, who now was lying in your lap, still gently pressed against your stomach, seemed to be processing what happened before craning her head up to look you in the eye. The look of scorn you thought would come your way was nowhere to be seen as Ms. Applejack let out a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of her head with a hoof.
“U-uh, don’t worry about it, ah was the one that fell, you were just being a gentlecolt,” she said, dismissing your touching as she awkwardly laughed. But before she could even try to get out of your lap, another clap of thunder rang out, not startling you nearly as badly as the last one but the effect on Ms. Applejack was quickly noticed.
Though you hadn’t worked or even been around horses back home, you’ve heard stories from friends and the internet of how skittish they could be to predators and loud noises, and that seemed to be the case in Equestria as well. You could feel Ms. Applejack trembling in your lap, as her head, once held high, was almost hidden between her front hooves. You thought the moment would quickly pass but after a few seconds it became clear that wouldn’t be the case. Slowly bringing your hands down from beside your head, your hands press against the soft fur of the orange mare, causing the intense shaking to noticeably lessen.
Moving your hands up and down Ms. Applejack’s coat, you can feel the slightest layer of fat shielding the firm muscles that the farm mare had earned over the years. Your right hand was pressed against her chest, your fingers pulling through the voluptuous tuft of fur around where her collar bones met. Your left hand on Ms. Applejack’s barrel ran up and down her body, pressing the fur of her coat down and pulling it back up as your fingers ran against her fur. As you continued to rub your hands on Ms. Applejack’s chest and barrel, the mare in your lap continued to relax until her shivering had stopped and she softly rested in your lap, her gentle breaths tickling your bare leg. Her head was now resting on your left thigh, and your hand which had been at her chest shifted to her head. Taking her stetson off, you leave it to the side before giving her head a few light pats before rolling one of her ears between your fingers.
Enjoying your service, the mare began to shift herself so she was laying on her side while her head rested in the divot created by your slightly parted legs. Looking down as she shuffled in your lap, you looked her over from snout to tail. Her muzzle was short and rounded, like many of the other female ponies you’ve seen. Her cheeks had three white freckles on each side, and her eyelashes were thick, which helped to outline her closed emerald green eyes. Her long blonde hair was held back with a red tie, and running a hand through it, you could feel how soft and light it was. Her tail was similar to her hair; long and bound with another red tie. On her rear, three red apples were printed to her fur. You had yet to understand what those were and why certain ponies had them and why others didn’t. Were they tattoos, were they born with them? You still had dozens of questions despite having been in Equestria for a little more than two years.
But as you innocently looked at the apples on the mare’s leg, Ms. Applejack shifted once more, stretching her leg out. The small, careless movement revealed what was hidden by most creature’s tails, and you subconsciously swallowed at the sight. You knew that you shouldn’t look, it just wasn’t right! But the subtle curves that outlined her lower lips, not to mention the small mounds of flesh just above it, kept your eyes glued to the sight. A twitch from your groin alerted you to the imminent danger that came from staring too long, and with great difficulty you tore your eyes away. Your head faced the wall, your gaze aimed as far from the pony’s marehood as you could look.
Despite lacking the visual stimulation, you soon became distinctly aware of the light breaths that tickled against the inside of your thigh causing your core to tense at the sensation. You did your best to think of anything that could stave off your arousal, but the die had already been cast, and your misfortune was about to roll a natural 20. Your member, hidden behind the small towel, began to perk up, raring to see some real action for the first time in years.
The sensitive head of your prick was now pressing against the towel that Ms. Applejack’s head was on. You silently prayed the mare had fallen asleep and that your little soldier would calm down soon. But as luck would have it, the creature that hung from your waist wasn’t going down before it could reach its full might as it pressed harder against the cloth ceiling. The content expression on Ms. Applejack’s face began to change to one of mild discomfort as she shifted her head, causing you to gasp as the cloth rubbed against your head. After shifting, the orange mare settled in for just a moment before shifting again, and again. You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your composure as your right hand gripped at a pillow and your hand on her barrel froze.
You could feel Ms. Applejack began to shift again, and you took a quick breath in preparation. But instead of shifting on your lap, you could feel the light weight of Ms. Applejack’s head lift from your legs. You slowly looked down to find the mare staring at the protrusion, inches away from her nose. Though she was now conscious, she didn’t appear to realize you were awake as she reached a tentative hoof under your towel before pulling it over the offending object, revealing yourself to the mare. From your point of view, you could see Ms. Applejack’s eyes widened a little bit as her cheeks flushed. Leaning closer, she gave your member a few sniffs before pulling back and making an audible gulp. Taking a hoof, she slowly began to move it towards your head, pressing the soft frog of her hoof to the underside of your tip, causing you to let out a sharp gasp.
The sound instantly gets Ms. Applejack’s attention as her head snaps up to your face. The both of you make eye contact and in that moment, Ms. Applejack’s cheeks became a darker shade of red and you let out your own loud gulp. None of you say anything for a few moments until the hoof touching your head shifts, causing you to gasp again. Noticing this, Ms. Applejack looks between her hoof, cradling your cock, and your expression before slowly beginning to move her hoof up and down the underside of your length.
You felt a myriad of emotions in that moment. Fear, confusion, and arousal. You felt all three as you sat, doing your best to keep the sounds you were making contained. Though you couldn’t see it, you could feel Ms. Applejack’s eyes bore into you as she moved her hoof up and down. You could feel your tip beginning to leak as your cock twitched, hungry for more stimulation. Cracking an eye open, you look down and look at the mare stroking your length. Her eyes are fixated on your member, as if hypnotized by how it throbbed in time with your heart beat, her snout beginning to near your tip. And before you can say anything, your eyes screw back shut and you let out a groan of pleasure as Ms. Applejack wrapped her lips around your tip, swirling her tongue over your head.
She lets out a gentle hum, the soft vibrations causing more pre to ooze into her warm maw. Holding the base of your shaft between her hooves, she begins to toy with the tip of your member. Licking, sucking, bobbing, she did everything she wanted to do without so much as a care in the world as your knuckles began to turn white from how hard you were clenching your fists. The mare pleasuring you eventually got bored of toying with your sensitive tip, but rather than pulling away, her lips sunk further down your member. You were too enraptured in the euphoric feeling to notice a single hoof slip away from the base of your cock.
You panted heavily as Ms. Applejack’s lips pressed against your groin. You were surprised to say the least, though what surprised you most was how long you were lasting. For being thrown straight into the thick of it after a two year dry spell, you would have felt pride if it wasn’t for the ludicrous situation you found yourself in. As Ms. Applejack bobbed on your length, you managed to open your eyes, taking in every detail only to forget them as Ms. Applejack’s broad tongue coiled around your girth. Looking to your left, you find where Ms. Applejack’s other hoof had gone. Pressed between her legs was a lone hoof, grinding against the outside of her dripping sex. The sight made your mouth begin to water.
Lust had begun to take hold of your rationality, and as much as you wanted to just end this activity, another part was egging you on to let loose. Before you could even question it, your mind caved and you leaned down bringing your face to Ms. Applejack’s belly. Your shifting had thrown Ms. Applejack off her rhythm as she slowed down to spy on what you were doing. Before she could make sense of what was happening, her eyes went wide as she moaned loudly, the sound muffled by your member in her mouth. On the lower half of her body, with the help of your hands you pulled a leg aside and grabbed the soft mount of flesh above Ms. Applejack’s slit before latching on with your mouth, whipping her sensitive nipple with your own shorter tongue.
While your movement had thrown her off, Ms. Applejack wasn’t content to leave her task half finished as she resumed her motions, pulling back before throwing her head forward with greater vigor. To your credit, you didn’t let the mind numbingly pleasurable mouth of the farm mare stop you from working on her as you moved your hand from her teat to her enterence, pushing away her damp hoof. Carefully, you used your middle finger to prod her pussy before slowly sliding your digit into her burning depths, only stopping when your palm met her pubic bone. Dragging the pad of your finger along the roof of her cave, your actions were immediately recognized as you felt the mare hum in pleasure.
What had originally started as a one sided curiosity had become a competition to make the other finish first, even if neither of you had said a word since it began. As Ms. Applejack continued to bob, her free hoof came to press and caress your balls, gently stroking the soft and sensitive skin of your sack. And as you continued to teach the orange mare the joys of fingers, you continued suck and lick at Ms. Applejack’s mammaries, making sure to alternate between the two and occasionally pinching her sensitive nipples between your incisors. But for as hard as you tried to win against the pony, the headstart she had was too much for you to overcome and the first signs of your release started to surface.
Your panting had become much heavier and your movements, finger and tongue alike, were beginning to suffer. Though not a word was even whispered, you felt that Ms. Applejack knew what was coming as she redoubled her efforts, moving her head as fast as she could. It was too much for you and your grip on her leg tightened as your cock flared and your balls tensed. Ms. Applejack abruptly stopped her movements as the first shot was fired, painting her tongue and cheeks white, but before the next shot could be sent into her maw, she pressed her head forward, causing your tip to press against the back of her throat. The feeling caused your breath to come out as a hiss, as the depleted oxygen from your lungs passed through your clenched jaw. Each volley of you cum was sent straight down Ms. Applejack’s throat as she swallowed in time with each white, sticky shot. After a few seconds, your balls tensed one last time before relaxing as the last of your load dribbled from your tip.
You could only pant as your head rested against Ms. Applejack’s barrel, but you eventually mustered the strength to pull your head from the pleasant pony pillow to look at the mare. Focused only on Ms. Applejack, you watched as she slowly pulled your length from her maw, coaxing out any seed that hadn’t been expelled from your cock. Eventually pulling your slick member from her lips, she closed her mouth before making a thoughtful expression that turned to a slight grimace before swallowing. After clearing her mouth, she spoke for the first time since hopping on the couch.
“A bit bitter,” she absent mindedly stated.
“Sorry,” you say out of habit, a dumb look plastered on your face. Your apology earns your face a light swat as the long tail of Ms. Applejack swishes against your cheek.
“Don’t say sorry for something like that,” she says. Nodding, you unconsciously open your mouth again to apologize, but after a look from Ms. Applejack you close your mouth. Smiling at your silent response, the both of you fall into yet another silence as you look at anything other than Ms. Applejack’s face. Turning your head to find something else to focus on you spot your finger, still being squeezed by Ms. Applejack’s velvet walls.
Pulling your finger free, a soft squeak comes from the mare. Turning back to face her, you immediately notice an expression you never thought the mare was capable of. Her flushed cheeks, her lips slightly parted as she panted. The look of need in her eyes told you more than anyone could ever describe as you pulled yourself upright. Now sitting, looking down to Ms. Applejack you decide to take the initiative.
“Would… you like to go further?” you ask with trepidation. Ms. Applejack looks you in the eye, your question catching her off guard, but her wagging tail told you exactly how she would respond. Discreetly swallowing, the farm pony gave a small nod before quietly answering, “Y...yes.”
Quietly, you motion for the mare to move her haunches to you, which she complies with before you wrap your arms around her and pull her sitting form into your lap. Your heart rate began to pick up in speed as you guided the mare into position, any earlier inhibitions long forgotten as you spread her legs so each hindleg was on either side of you. Her hooves pressed into your chest as you moved Ms. Applejack into position and after a few quick seconds, you leaned back to look at the new position the farm pony was in.
With her legs spread, she straddled your lap, her dripping sex inches from your cock. She held herself upright with her hooves that were hooked over your shoulders. Your hands which had been guiding her into position came to rest on her barrel, just above her hips, and looking Ms. Applejack dead in her eye, you asked her one last question.
“Are you sure you're ok with this?” you ask. Depending on the answer, the way you would act tonight would go one of two ways.
“O-of course ah am!” she shouted, though you could detect the nervousness in her voice.
Gripping Ms. Applejack’s sides gently, you help to lift the mare up until her slit is just above the head of your length. Gradually lowering herself, you help the process by guiding your length towards her entrance, and soon enough, your tip presses against her warm, puffy lips. Ms. Applejack seems to stop for just a moment but quickly resumes a little faster than before. Her winking snatch quickly engulfs your head and moves down your length, and before you know it your hips joined together with a soft, wet Pap.
Your mouths let out a simultaneous groan as Ms. Applejack began to grind and shift her hips, causing your member to fully return to its former rigidity. After a moment of enjoying the sensation of being on top of you, the grinding stopped and the mare gave you a curt nod that you returned before you began to move. With your hands on her hips, Ms. Applejack pushed herself up and you pulled her back down, creating a resounding clap each time she fell back onto your length. To your credit, for as sensitive as you were, you at least managed to keep your eyes open, compared to Ms. Applejack who kept her eyes locked shut as her jaw hung open, her husky breaths tickling your chest.
Having worked your way up to a good rhythm, you began to change things up here and there. She would bounce on you a few times, and you would hilt in her, holding her to your hips as you would pull and push her against your groin. Other times you would give her firm but soft ass a cheeky squeeze or playful slap. The effects from each little deviation would get a reaction out of the mare, a slap or squeeze might get a cute moan or yelp, while the grinding would turn her hooves to putty as she focused on trying to keep her moans contained. And while she did see some success, remaining fairly quiet, as time went on and her bouncing became faster, she found it much more difficult to contain herself. She was fortunate the storm managed to drown out her cries of pleasure.
Not a word was spoken as the two of you fucked, nothing needed to be said. Ms. Applejack was happy as she filled herself with each bounce and you were happy to oblige the mare. But soon her otherwise regular and precise movements became erratic and desperate as she neared climax, her hips barely rising an inch as she tried to fill herself even faster. Not content to let her finish in such a sloppy manner, your hands slipped under her haunches, practically supporting her entire weight, as you took over for the mare. The reaction from Ms. Applejack told you she was perfectly fine with your decision as she pulled herself closer to you, her cheek sliding up and down your chest with each upward thrust you made. Soon, she was moaning at your every move and the twitching from her marehood signaled her climax. Continuing to piston your hips in tandem with your arms, your pace reached a speed you had never gone before. Just as you felt Ms. Applejack’s pussy clamp around your cock, you shift your hands back to her hips before yanking her down and simultaneously forcing your hips up creating a resounding SMACK, as you plant yourself as deep as you can as Ms. Applejack came.
Ms. Applejack, in her euphoria, opened her mouth to let out an earth shattering scream of pleasure, but your lips robbed her of her chance to make her satisfaction known to the world as she moaned into your mouth. Moving your lips against hers, it was a sloppy kiss by all metrics but it felt perfect for the moment the two of you found yourselves in. It was the best way of telling each other how you felt without saying a word. As your hands held Ms. Applejack against your member, Ms. Applejack held her lips to yours, securing herself to your face with the help of her hooves wrapped around your head.
You came not too long ago, you estimated it had been roughly ten minutes since then. You felt your balls twitch and tingle, signaling another round was in the chamber. You pulled your face away from Ms. Applejack’s, albeit, with a fair amount of resistance. This earned you a confused look from the dazed mare that caused your chest to tingle at the cute sight, but you had pulled away for a reason. Looking into Ms. Applejack’s eyes, her expression eventually went away as you began to speak.
“Would you be fine with another round?” you ask flatly, you had no intention of beating around the bush, you wanted an answer immediately. Sober you never would’ve even dreamt of asking such a question with the tone you used but you weren’t sober. Drunk on lust, you were focused solely on satisfying your blazing desire. You looked at the mare expectantly.
Rather than answering you verbally, the dazed mare closed her mouth, which had been left ajar after you pulled away, and gave you a nod. Moving your hands from her hips to her back you held her close as you lowered her back to the couch. From your position above her, you took a moment to admire the pony and you felt your heart flutter at her appearance.
Her rowdy but otherwise kept mane was a beautiful mess, most of her hair having come undone from her red hair tie that now only held a few bunches in its elastic grip. Her eyes had a lustful look to them and her forelegs were folded and pressed together in front of her, a little bit like a rolled over dog. The sounds from the storm began to fade and the details of the cushion Ms. Applejack laid on blurred together as your eyes and ears focused solely on the beautiful mare. All you could hear were her soft breaths and all you could see were her enchanting green eyes as you lowered your face. Your eyes closed as your lips came to press softly against Ms. Applejack’s.
Though you didn’t see it, Applejack’s eyes widened for a moment before softening and eventually fluttering shut as she reciprocated the kiss. It wasn’t a long or intense kiss, nor was it lust filled despite what you were about to do with Ms. Applejack. Anyone who witnessed the kiss would have described it as tender and loving. You didn’t think about any of those things at that moment. You were just doing what you wanted and you were loving it. And as soon as it had started, the kiss ended.
Moving your head lower, you pressed the side of your face into the crook of Ms. Applejack’s neck before beginning to move, your arms still wrapped around the mare. You started slowly, utilizing your full length when thrusting, pressing forward until your hips pressed against her taught rump, and pulled back until only the tip remained inside before repeating. You can’t say why you were taking this so slowly, maybe it was to savor the feeling of Ms. Applejack’s warm inviting depths, or perhaps it was so you could torment the mare with deliberate slow pumps, but regardless of why you might have chosen to go slow, in that moment your body just acted on its own.
With your head close to Ms. Applejack’s, you could hear the sounds she made with the highest fidelity. The whimper accompanied by a little wiggle of her rear when you plunged your length into her marehood, the gasp of pleasure when the ridge of your head dragged along the roof of her canal, and so many more sounds that served to egg you on. However, unlike when Ms. Applejack was on your lap, she had chosen to speak up.
“Hmmm… Go faster~,” she cooed above you as her hooves around your neck grasped harder. You oblige her and your pace begins to pick up in speed, the increased tempo creating a light slapping sound as your hips connected. Your motions continued to pick up in speed, the pace now causing Ms. Applejack’s hind legs to bounce in time with each thrust. Ms. Applejack, her eyes half open as she clung to your upper back and neck, moaned louder as your speed increased.
As you thrusted away, you could feel something wrap around your thigh. It had a soft and stringy texture. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Ms. Applejack’s blonde tail coiling around your leg, one of many ways ponies showed affection for one another. Thrusting a little harder at the realization, the light claps of your hips coming together become loud slaps that resound through the room. The energy from each impact reverberated throughout Ms. Applejack’s smaller body, causing her groans of pleasure to be accentuated by each thrust.
You huffed into the fur of Ms. Applejack’s neck as you did your best to maintain control over both your thrusts and incoming orgasim. The speed of your hips paired with Ms. Applejack’s moans of pleasure were pushing you closer and closer to your climax. But despite your impending release, you still had enough brainpower to speak.
“Where do you want it,” you growl, your question coming out as more of a statement. Ms. Applejack appeared to register your question but she struggled to get the words out under the constant barrage.
“I… In… Inside!” she cried, barely managing to make herself heard under the relentless pounding her marehood was receiving.
Your hips move a fraction faster at those words. As you continued to pump into Ms. Applejack’s pussy, you pulled your head from the crook of her neck, moving your until you were nose to nose with Ms. Applejack. Moving your right hand from its place on her back to the side of her head, her left ear slipping between your middle and index finger as you cup her face. Feeling you move your head and hand, Ms. Applejack’s glazed over eyes manage to focus on your face, which took up most of her field of view.
Though you had become familiar with the erotic faces Ms. Applejack could make, with your face so close to hers, you felt as if you could see every last emotion that was in her expressive eyes. Suddenly you felt the telltale sign of a rapidly approaching peak as Ms. Applejack tightened around you. Alongside achieving your own release, you had a new objective. Thrusting a bit harder at the realization, Ms. Applejack pushed her forehead into yours as her heavy breaths brushed against your short beard. Moments away from finishing, you decide to be courteous and give Ms. Applejack one last heads up.
“Here it comes,” you grunt as you focus on the next few thrusts.
One, not quite there. Two, getting warmer. Three, the tightness around you has reached a fever pitch. Four, nearly there. Five, you’ve reached your boiling point. Six, one more, as deep as possible. And on your seventh thrust, you push as much as you could into Ms. Applejack’s desperate pussy as the first volley pushes past the tight walls of her marehood. Shot after shot fired from your cock, your orgasim, far more intense than your last. Gazing onto the mare in front of you, you watch as her expression quickly changes as the first volley of your seed makes her breath catch in her throat, leaving her mouth open in a silent scream. The next shot forced her to screw her eyes shut, and every volley after made her whimper as she pressed her forehead against yours as the both of you rode out your respective climaxes.
It takes you a minute to come down from your lust fueled high and catch your breath. When your haze cleared, the first thought you had was a question, specifically how the hell did you manage to get into this situation? Where did it start? Was it when Ms. Applejack invited you in or later? Was it when you caught her when she tripped, or when the storm first began? You were pretty sure you had a dumb confused look to your face as you tried to think of an answer, but your broken from your haze when your ears picked up the soft chuckling from in front of you. Ms. Applejack, with her hooves still wrapped around your neck and her face still flushed an apple red, was giggling at you. Leaning up from the couch, you feel her soft lips press against your nose, causing you to cross your eyes and pull your head back. Blinking away the confusion, you focus back on the mare and give her a small smile before beginning to pull yourself upright, but the hooves around your neck stop you in your tracks.
“Wait… Let's just stay like this,” Ms. Applejack proposes.
“But don’t you want to sleep in your own room?” you question, looking towards where the stairs presumably were.
“Heh heh, ah’m sure ah’d make a mess of the floor boards and mah bed if ah went up now,” she states, looking down to your connected hips. “Besides, ah would say ah’m mighty comfortable as is,” she finishes with a cheeky grin.
You let out a dry laugh at her conclusion and carefully remove Ms. Applejack’s hooves from around your neck, much to her disappointment. Leaning upright, without removing your sword from its sheath, you move Ms. Applejack’s muscular legs to one side before lying down on the couch behind her, your chest pressed to her back. Though you couldn’t see her face, you had the impression she was wearing a large smile right about now. Stretching your leg out, you felt a soft fabric brush against your foot. Looking towards your foot, you see the blanket Ms. Applejack had brought you, and careful not to disturb the mare beside you, with your dextrous legs, you managed to move the blanket into your grip. With a flick of your wrist, the blanket came unfolded, and you adjusted it so your legs were covered before pulling it up and over your shoulders, careful not to cover Ms. Applejack’s face.
The orange pony took one of your arms and the blanket in her grip before settling in against your chest. Wordlessly, you give the mare a squeeze before settling into your position on the couch with Ms. Applejack’s hair right in your face. Lightly sniffing the pony, you notice the light scent of Honey Crisp as your eyes begin to droop. As you gradually drift off to sleep you smile one last time at the mare before your conscious fades.
oo000OOOO000oo
A few hours passed and despite having a pleasant dreamless sleep, you woke up feeling tired, with the added bonus of feeling a bit sore. With your left arm, which was numb from being slept on, you rubbed at your eyes, clearing away some of the crud, yawning in the process. Blinking your bleariness away, you slowly begin to focus on your surroundings and one of the first things you notice is the silence. With the exception of the light breaths from Ms. Applejack, the house felt too quiet. Looking at the window you learn why, as the dark clouds from the day before are no more, and a gentle blue pre-twilight sky just barely glows past the window pane.
From the looks of it, the time was probably between 4:30 and 5:30 in the morning. You were pretty good at determining the time based on the sun and moon depending on the time of year. After all, it's how you knew when to sneak into towns and villages in the past.
Resting your head back on the couch you notice just how sweaty you are under the covers, and lifting the blanket covering your bodies you are immediately blasted with the potent smell of sex as you quickly push the covers back down. Either the movement or the intense smell seems to rouse the sleeping earth pony as she raises her head, blinking away the sleep in her eyes.
“Huh? Wha’s goin’ on?” she slurs, looking around.
“Ms. Applejack, I think we have a problem,” you worrily state.
“Hmmm? Wa-duh-ya mean?” Ms. Applejack says, seeming to remember where she was as she turned around to look at you. You respond, by lifting up the blanket, and instantly Ms. Applejack’s face turned red and her ears flickered, any sign of her fatigue now gone as the smell crashed against her face.
“We need tuh get this cleaned up, right now.”
So there you were airing out the room, scrubbing stains, and washing the scent of sex off of yourself at five in the morning. Luckily the Apple didn’t normally start their day until six at the earliest. You and Ms. Applejack finished cleaning in just the nick of time, as she ushered you onto the porch just as the heavy hoof falls of Mr. Macintosh could be heard coming from the stairs. You're sure the orange mare would have a fun time trying to explain why she was up so early, but you couldn’t hear anything from outside.
Turning to your damp tent tarp and cot, you realize you don’t look the part of a creature that just spent the night outside, you had even left your burlap tunic in the bathroom! Quickly, you set up your cot on the porch to make it look like you at least spent the night outside on the deck, but you hear the door knob jingle. Grabbing the tent tarp, you wrap yourself in the cold, damp fabric and sit on your cot just as a red stallion pokes his head out. Looking left and right, he appears to be looking for something. Having not spotted what he was looking for he stepped outside, shivering lightly as a breeze blew through. Turning to his left, his expression appeared startled for a moment before returning to its neutral state. Looking each other in the eye, neither of you say a word for a few moments until you decide to break the silence.
“M-mornin’,” you greet.
“G’morning,” Mr. Macintosh responds, looking over you and your improvised bed set up. You decide to say something about why you were on the porch.
“I’m s-sorry b-b-but my t-tent fell d-down and it w-was c-c-cold,” you say, your teeth genuinely chattering as the freezing cold tarp causes you to tremble. Mr. Macintosh gives you a slow nod at your explanation. Turning around, the stallion takes a breath before calling out, “Applejack! Blanket!”
You can hear a response shouted back from the mare but you can’t hear it. Shivering on the deck, Mr. Macintosh continues to stand outside while staring at you, his eyes narrow in suspicion. You gulp as you try to ignore the eyes burning into your side. After a few tense moments, the silent stallion spoke to you.
“Where’d your beard go?” he asked. You tensed up as you realized your blunder. But before you can respond Ms. Applejack walks on to the porch, totally unaware of the situation.
“Ah brought the blanket,” Ms. Applejack chirps. You make a split second decision in that moment and open your mouth to speak.
“E-early this morning M-ms. Applejack c-c-came out to check o-on me,” you say, speaking slow enough for Ms. Applejack to process what you were saying. “A-and she was kind enough t-t-to let m-me warm up i-in the bathroom.”
Ms. Applejack’s ear flicks and her eyes widen as she realizes your lie. Fortunately, Mr. Macintosh is looking away from his sister.
“When I was w-washing myself I saw the r-razor in the bathroom, I think it w-was yours but I really wanted to g-g-get rid of my long b-beard. I’m sorry for using it without telling you,” you finish with a slight bow, silently praying he buys the lie. Mr. Macintosh’s expression doesn’t change, turning to his sister he looks at her, awaiting confirmation. You crossed your fingers.
“Uhh, yeah! Ah invited him inside tuh warm up in the bath, an’ ah asked him about his beard too, he says he didn’t cut it all ‘cus he doesn’t know how tuh use one,” she says, finishing her white lie with an awkward smile. Looking back at you, the stallion lets out a snort.
“Next time, ask before you use somepony’s razor.”
“Yes sir, won’t make the same mistake,” you say, thankful for your luck. The red stallion turned from you and walked inside. You let out a sigh of relief as soon as you can’t hear his heavy hoofsteps.
“Whew, that was a close one, that was the first time ah lied an’ got away with it,” Ms. Applejack said as she approached you.
“Thanks for going along with that.”
“Ah hate lying, even if it’s just a white lie, but ah can let it go this one time, just promise me you won’t make me do it again,” she said as she placed the blanket laying her back on your cot.
“I’ll do my very best,” you reply, before asking a question. “Were you able to get everything squared away?” you ask. Ms. Applejack nods at your question, giving you a small smile.
“Yep! Got everythang cleaned up before Big Mac came down, oh! An’ you forgot this,” she said, reaching over to unfold the blanket, revealing your burlap tunic. Thrilled to see your one piece of clothing, you snatched both before quickly stripping yourself of the cold tarp and pulling on your dry garb before wrapping yourself in the warm wool blanket.
With a satisfied expression, Ms. Applejack gave a nod before she turned around to go back inside. But as she reached for the door handle, she stopped for a moment before turning to you, a bashful expression painted on her face.
“A-ah know ah probably don’t have to say it but can we keep what happened last night between us?” she requested. You were a little confused at the request, it wasn’t like you had anyone to go talk to in the first place, but you agreed to it nonetheless.
“Of course not,” you respond. Breathing a sigh of relief, Ms. Applejack looked as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
“Alright, good. Well, ah’ll be makin’ breakfast today, it’ll be ready in a half hour, alright?” You nod in affirmation.
“Perfect, ah’ll be out to getcha yer food!” she said, giving you a smile and a wave before disappearing back into the house.
Now alone, normally you’d do something like some exercises or even getting a headstart on your chores around the farm, but today you just sat looking out into the apple orchard as the sun slowly crested the horizon. Thinking back to the night before, you remember the time alone you spent just listening to the rain, something you did a lot back on earth. But ever since you somehow wound up here in the land of mythical creatures, for you, the rain meant no hunting or foraging, potential flooding, and at worst, hypothermia.
When thinking of your past, both when you were on the run and before you came to Equestria, you’d normally try to interrupt those thoughts and memories somehow, but for some reason, you were content to reminisce and think about those good and bad memories about the rain, the pain that normally came with those thoughts nowhere to be felt. You could feel your lips pull back until you had a big, bright smile, something your parents said that they always liked about you.
Slouching back against the outer wall of the farm house, you looked out into the orchard, listening to the farm animals stirring and the surrounding nature come to life. Sitting back and looking out at the picture perfect scene, relaxing, you were perfectly content to be silent and do absolutely nothing for the first time since you came to Sweet Apple Acres.