> Cakewalk
>  by Some Leech
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Devil's Food or Angel Food
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I got it, Dearie,” Mrs. Cake announced, sauntering to and opening the backdoor of Sugarcube Corner.

Carrying two large crates of flour and sugar, as well as a number of other ingredients, Anon marched past the mare and into the back of the bakery. Nobody forced him to help the Cakes out with deliveries, but he always tried to lend a helping hand to the couple. In addition to making some damn good stuff, the bakers had only ever been friendly toward him since he’d gotten to Equestria.

Making his way inside and to the supply room, he squatted and carefully sat the goods down to the floor. “This all of it?”

“Mmhmm ~ that’s it for today,” Mrs. Cake replied, trotting in behind him. “Thank you again for the help.”

“Don’t mention it,” he sighed. “Since I’m here, is there anything else I can help with?”

Without waiting for her to reply, he moved one crate from off the other and began placing their contents on the shelves with the rest of the stored ingredients. It may have sounded funny, but he really didn’t mind helping out with tasks like these. Though chores weren’t thrilling by any means, they got him out of the house, gave him some decent exercise, and were a way to repay the kindness his neighbors had shown him in the past.

Mrs. Cake thought for a moment, tapping a forehoof to her chin, before she shook her head. “Well we were planning on moving one of the workbenches in the kitchen, since we’ll be getting a new mixer soon, but I would never -”

“Ah ah ~” he tutted, getting to his feet, “I offered. Show me where it is and tell me where you want it.”

Though she lifted a hoof, likely ready to protest, she ultimately shook her head and smirked. “Well I’ll owe you for this one - trust me, this sucker is heavy.”

Rolling his sleeves up, he grinned. “Lead the way.”

Aside from being a friendly gesture, helping out around Ponyville served a dual purpose; not only did it make him feel good, giving him the simple satisfaction of being nice, but his size and strength allowed him to pull off feats that would try even the largest earth ponies - that and it wasn’t uncommon for the townsponies to offer him snacks or a meal for his services. Seeing her turn and trot deeper into the building, he trailed along after her. Since it was still early in the morning, he wasn’t too worried about leaving his inn unattended for an hour or two - then again, even if someone did show up, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be there.

He’d knocked up Ms. Harshwhinny, blown a load into Mayor Mare, and been paid to impregnate Stellar Flare, none of which were ever things he’d planned on doing when he’d opened his little inn. All he’d wanted was to run a simple bed and breakfast and maybe, just maybe find a marefriend to settle down with, yet fate had been insistent that his life keep taking lecherous twists and turns. He still hadn’t had any luck contacting Eris, in spite of asking Fluttershy multiple times to relay messages, so he was left to presume his licentiously bad luck was nobody’s fault but his own.

Stopping just ahead of him, Mrs. Cake pointed to the large, industrial piece of furniture. “That’s the one. We were planning on putting the stand mixer in the corner,” she explained, motioning to the far end of the room, “but we’ll need to slide this down a few feet.”

“It shouldn’t be too hard to pull off - here, help me get the bowls out from under it,” he noted, sinking to one knee.

She shifted and expectantly held a foreleg out toward him. “Just pass them to me.”

Pulling out a stack of large sheet pans, he did as he’d been asked. “Here ya go.”

“Let me just throw these in the sink,” she hummed, balancing the trays in her hoof and turning away.

Finding himself facing her ample, shapely backside, spying the pair of generous teats hanging from her groin, he hastily averted her gaze. Mrs. Cake wasn’t much different than most ponies, but her figure was a rarity in Equestria. While he’d met more mares than he dared to count, and bedded a fair number in his travels, there wasn’t a single one that was built quite like the motherly, compassionate baker.

With a cerulean coat, crimson-striped mane, rose colored eyes, Mrs. Cake’s pastel aesthetic fit right in with everyone else in Ponyville - that said, her physique was something else entirely. Her short, rubenesque figure, bearing full hips, an ass for days, and easily the biggest bosoms he’d ever seen on an equine, were the embodiment of maternal beauty and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous of Mr. Cake - nevertheless, he’d never dared to think of taking a pass at her. She was happily married with a pair of foals, and the last thing he’d want to do is to ruin her relationship.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he passed her a large cutting board from under the bench. “How are Pound and Pumpkin doing?”

“They’re little hooffuls, like usual,” she giggled, setting the plan of wood off to the side. “Pumpkin is finally starting to control her magic, and Pound hasn’t flown the coop in a few weeks - knock on wood,” she chuckled, rapping her hoof against the cutting board.

He smiled and nodded, fishing out a banneton. “Well that’s good…”

While he liked both Mr. and Mrs. Cake immeasurably, there was one thing he’d been curious about with them. The couple were earth ponies, bereft of the ability of flight or magic, yet their offspring were a unicorn and pegasus respectively. He was far from a biologist, but the fact that Pound and Pumpkin were from a different subspecies of ponies than either of their parents raised questions. Unless horns and wings were recessive traits, something that seemed implausible given the number of magic-wielding and flying ponies in the world, he couldn’t understand how the foals had turned out the way they did.

“Alright,” he grunted, pushing himself up, “stand back.”

“D…don’t hurt yourself,” she murmured, shuffling back to give him some room.

Situating himself at the end of the bench, he grabbed two of the metal legs, braced his legs, and pulled the counter across the tiled floor. He was instantly glad he’d been there to help, because the damn thing felt like it weighed a ton. Even with his considerable strength, getting the furnishing repositioned took a good bit of effort, cursing, and caused him to pop a sweat. Dusting his hands and looking to the far corner, seeing he’d cleared a decent amount of space from the wall, he shifted his focus over to his host.

“How’s that?” he inquired, fanning his shirt.

Mrs. Cake stared up at him, her cheeks having inexplicably gone a brilliant crimson, but she wasn’t looking at his face. Her eyes wandered over his shoulders, arms, and chest, as her nostrils flared ever so slightly. He initially assumed that she was impressed with the feat of strength, likely because her husband, while a good stallion, was built like a twig, but a sudden movement beneath her caught his attention.

Looking under her, seeing a small white puddle on the tiled floor, he quirked a brow. “What’s that?”

Turning her head and peeking under herself, she started. “Oh cheese and crackers! Excuse me!”

Giving no explanation whatsoever, she wheeled away, bolted out of the kitchen, and abandoned him where he stood. She’d been fine all that morning, since the moment he’d arrived, so the sudden and completely unexpected turn of events left him at a loss, both confused and concerned. Glancing down at the little pool on the floor, wondering if she’d dropped something, he shifted on his heel and followed along after her.

“Mrs. Cake,” he shouted, walking to the front of the shop, “is everything ok?”

Lingering at the foot of the stairs, hearing movement from the second floor, he glowered. He knew for a fact that ponies didn’t bleed milky white stuff, unless she’d somehow been replaced by some picture-perfect, futuristic android, so he wasn’t that worried - still, something was definitely wrong. He didn’t think she was hurt, but he wasn’t about to hedge his bets on an assumption.

Slowly, listening intently, he ascended the stairs. “Mrs Cake?”

Nothing - no call back or a response to speak of, though the faint sound of shuffling crept to his ear. He did feel a bit bad for sneaking into their apartment, but what was he supposed to do? She’d run off as though there’d been some dire emergency, so figuring out what was going on seemed like the only reasonable thing he could think to do! As he noiselessly drifted down a short hallway and toward the source of the noise, passing the twin’s closed room, his thoughts raced.

He couldn’t fathom what had happened, but he knew it wasn’t anything good. It couldn’t be anything with the foals, since they hadn’t made a peep, and Mr. Cake was off at some fancy pastry competition in Manehattan, so there were only so many things the upset could be about. Reaching her door, resting his hand on the handle, he steadied himself.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, preparing for the worst.

“Anon, no!” Mrs. Cake shouted, but it was too late.

As he flung the door inward, readying himself for - well, he wasn’t sure what he was readying himself for, he froze. Staring dead at him, her face having gone beet red, she stood on her hind legs with her forehooves resting on the bed. Finding her in such an odd pose would have been fairly odd in and of itself, but it was what she was doing that completely threw him for a loop.

A small machine rested beneath the mare, quietly hissing and humming to itself, with a pair of tubes leading to her underbelly. He squinted down at the contraption and noticed a little container at its side, before he finally understood what he was looking at. Feeling blood rush to his cheeks, he reared back askance.

“I haven’t fed the foals this morning,” she bleated, averting her gaze, “a…and sometimes I leak if I get excited.”

He stood motionless, like a deer in the headlights, digesting everything that was happening. It made sense that she was lactating, given the age of the twins and the sheer size of her breasts, yet seeing her get milked evoked a strange mixture of emotions. Though he knew he should excuse himself and apologize, realizing this was clearly something she’d meant to do in private, the final part of her statement piqued his curiosity.

Lingering by the doorway, he found his voice. “Excited?”

“W…well,” she sputtered, somehow blushing even more than she had been moments prior, “it’s j…just that it’s been a w…while since I’ve had any relief and…”

“And…?” he pressed.

For a fleeting instant, she glanced down at his groin. “And I mean - goodness, just look at you! You come waltzing in here every time we get a shipment in, showing off just how big and strong you are, and you never ask for a thing! After I heard that…”

The blood drained from his face, his heart skipped a beat, and a cold knot formed in his stomach. Heard - she’d heard something, and his intuition was telling him exactly what it was. Considering Mrs. Harshwhinny had apparently been rather loose-lipped about their fling, he wouldn’t be shocked if news of his special services had made it to the curvaceous baker. Hanging his head and pinching the bridge of his nose, he held up a finger.

“Please,” he began, “please don’t tell me you heard -”

“That you gave Mayor Mare the time of her life?” Mrs. Cake blurted, immediately covering her muzzle with a forehoof. “W…was that supposed to be a secret?”

With that single line, his fears had been confirmed. Without means of electronic communication, it made sense that word of mouth could spread like wildfire throughout Equestria - even so, he was just a touch annoyed that news of his amorous exploits had made its way to Sugarcube Corner. Swallowing hard, catching himself watching the milk being siphoned from her bountiful bosoms, he had to force himself to look away.

“Listen, it’s not like I wanted to give Mayor Mare a roll,” he groaned.

“That’s not she said,” she countered, fanning herself. “From what she told me, you were an absolute beast; throwing her on the table, plowing her brains out - sweet Celestia, what I wouldn’t give to be treated like that.”

He paused, reminded of the comment she’d made moments before. The initial surprise of stumbling on her in such a compromising state, having spontaneously started lactating uncontrollably, gradually wore away - as he finally processed everything that was happening. Her remark about him being big and strong, how she’d casually said she tended to leak when she was excited, the way she just waxed poetic about his treatment of Mayor Mare - it almost sounded like…

Going rigid, the enormity of the situation struck him like a gong. “B…but you’re married!”

“Oh!” she chirped. “I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?” he inquired.

“That Mr. Cake and I are swingers - always have been and we probably always will be,” she chipperly chirped. “Why do you think Pound and Pumpkin turned out the way they did?”

He opened his mouth to reply, yet he remained silent. Just like that, as if stating the obvious, she’d affirmed several of his suspicions. He couldn’t deny that the revelation was a bit stimulating, but that did nothing to help with his current predicament. There he was, standing in her room after being openly hit on, while he tried and failed not to ogle her milk-laden tits and fat, supple ass.

Her eyes grew heavily lidded and a sly, knowing grin split her muzzle, as she steadily angled her backside in his direction. “If you really wanted to lend a helping hoof with something, I might have something you could do…”

“W…what?” he croaked, his gut screaming at him to excuse himself.

“This breast pump works well, but the flanges are so cold and hard,” she moaned, swaying her hips and causing her rack to swing beneath her. “If only I had somepony who’d be willing to give a mare a hand.”

Throwing his hands up, his better judgment finally kicking into high gear, he backed away. “I think I’ll have to pass on this one, but - uh - I’d be more than happy to help with anything else.”

She rolled her eyes and hopped down from the bed, unintentionally dislodging one of the suctioning cups from a teat, as she turned to face him. “Seriously?”

“Look, I know you said you and your husband are open to fooling around, but -”

“But nothing,” she groused. “Don’t act like I haven’t caught you peeking at my flank when you think I’m not looking! If those lustful looks you’ve given me are any indication, you clearly have a thing for big, beautiful mares, and I know for a fact that you don’t mind rutting older ponies, so what’s the problem?”

Put on a back-foot, he gulped. He did have a thing for voluptuous women, especially ones that fell into the MILF category, but he’d never gotten the opportunity to act on those specific interests. While he’d had a damn good time with Stellar, she didn’t have the motherly appeal that Mrs. Cake did - not by a country mile. Like it or not, she’d just called him out.

“Looks like at least part of you is feeling honest,” she tittered.

He didn’t have to look at her to tell what had caught her attention. His treacherous body had once again betrayed him. Feeling his manhood struggling against his underwear, he cursed beneath his breath. Like so many times before and likely so many times yet to come, his libido had landed him in a perversely precarious situation.

With no way to conceal his arousal, and not wanting to throw unneeded tension into what was otherwise a wholesome and endearing friendship, he knit his brow. “If I milk you, I’m just going to milk you ~ alright?”

She beamed and gave a small nod, before kicking the breast pump away and hopping onto her bed. “Sounds fine to me! There should be a pail in my closet; be a dear and fetch it for me.”

He’d ever advertised it, but he’d had a strange, almost fetishistic fascination with lactation for as long as he could remember. Something about a mature female with large, productive breasts simply got his motor running. He couldn’t explain exactly why he was captivated by maternal mares, and he prayed it wasn’t some latent oedipal complex, but he assumed they appealed to him on some fundamental, biological level.

Though he didn’t consider himself sexist by any means, fertile, caring, protective females, regardless of their species, were just appealing to him. Of all the creatures he’d met, both on Earth and on Equestria, Mrs. Cake sat as a paragon of what motherhood should be. She cherished her foals dearly, her baking skills were exemplary, and she was friendly to everyone she met – in short, she was the sort of mare he’d be proud to settle down with.

As he longingly gazed at her bosoms, seeing her dark, pronounced areola dripping milk to the bed sheets, his mouth began to water. “Alright, give me one second.” 

Having turned and marched to her closet, he opened the door and looked inside. He’d fully anticipated finding a wardrobe or linens, but the sight that greeted him was anything but conventional. Leather straps, chrome chains, harnesses, and a cornucopia of sex-toys of various sizes lay within the small chamber, giving weight to what Mrs. Cake had said earlier. The seemingly mild-mannered, sweet, and unassuming couple, as carefree as they were, apparently had a very a robust sexual side.

“Did you find it?” she called out, peering over in his direction.

“Uh –“ he uneasily responded, spying what sure as hell appeared to be a novel cow getup.

The sight of the depraved, dairy-themed outfit did nothing to quell his mounting desires. It wasn’t like he’d had any plans on doing anything even remotely naughty that morning, having made his way over to the bakery to help unload the weekly shipment of ingredients and supplies, yet he’d been presented with an irresistibly raunchy situation – one that was too damn good to pass up. Grabbing the kinky ensemble and the milk pail, which poetically sat beneath it, he bit back a smile.

As he turned to face her, holding the bucket in one hand and the cow-print attire in the other, she smirked. “So you’re just going to milk me ~ huh?” she purred. Rolling onto her back, lifting and pressing her hind legs together, she squeezed her breasts between her meaty thighs. “Mooooooo…”

The sinful sound sent an excited shiver up his spine. “Here,” he intoned, tossing the costume to her, “put this on.”

He realized he was fucked figuratively, and soon enough literally, so he saw no point in fighting the inevitable. If he ended up banging Mrs. Cake and checking another item off his carnal bucket list, he was fine with that – after all, if she and her husband were totally cool with sharing one another, he struggled to find an excuse not to show her a good time. As he approached the bed, watching her wriggle into the sling-bikini, his pulse quickened.

“If I’d known you were into cows, I would have surprised you while wearing this ages ago,” she cooed, hungrily eyeing the growing swell in his pants.

Stopping at the foot of the bed, he loosened his belt. “You were serious about being into me?”

“Gracious yes,” she shamelessly answered. “The only reason I didn’t make a move was because I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

“Come on ~ how could I ever think less of you,” he shot back, his pants slipping down his legs and falling to the floor. “There’s nothing wrong with having a healthy libido!”

She laughed and gave a small snort, waving a hoof at him. “I wish more stallions held that sentiment. By the way – um – if you were feeling a bit thirsty, I wouldn’t mind if you…”

Leaning forward and spreading her legs, she reached down and kneaded her breasts. He drew his tongue over his lips, feeling suddenly parched as he watched the display. One of the more intriguing things about mares was that, unlike bipeds, all their fun bits were located in the same general area – as such, he’d be able to kill two birds with one stone. He squatted down and extended his arms, gingerly caressing her flanks, as he brought his face to her loins.

The ambrosial bouquet of her arousal was tinged with the unmistakable scent of fresh cream, setting his nerves alight. “Just do me one favor,” he muttered, glancing up to her face, “feel free to moo for me.”

“Mooo!” she moaned, throwing her head back as he pulled the bikini aside and wrapped his lips around a dampened nipple.

Sucking on her teat, he was rewarded with a gout of rich, sweet milk. The flavor was incredible, leagues better than any dairy he’d ever had before, and it chipped away at his withering composure. The cow-print attire, the enormity of her prolific bosoms, how deliciously plump she was – fuck, they made for a damn compelling combination. Shifting ever so slightly, caressing her doughy ass, he brought his fingers to her winking, positively drenched marehood.

Gasping when his digits graced her clit, she rested her fetlocks on his shoulders. “Oh fudge!”

His eyes never wandered from her face, relishing her bliss-wracked expression, while he nursed on her teat and rubbed her nethers. He felt sure that her husband was a proficient lover, yet he wished for nothing more than to impress her. Though he’d never be brash enough to say it, his subconscious practically demanded he make her first experience with a human an impactful one - rivaling or even outperforming what her doting husband could do.

Pitting himself against a seasoned mare would have been a death sentence for him, had he been a novice at pleasing equines - fortunately for him, that wasn’t the case. It was a bit awkward to pull off, twisting one arm under his chest, but he managed to stroke her clit with his thumb while sliding a finger into her depths to massage her g-spot. Paired with suckling on her tit, his handiwork instantly paid dividends.

A guttural, whorish groan escaped her, as she bucked up and into his palm. “Y…you certainly know what you’re doing.”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, swallowing down a mouthful of milk.

As much as he tried not to let his laundry list of trysts get to his head, he took pride in the skills he’d accrued. Dragons, hippogriffs, changelings, ponies of all kinds - there weren’t many sapient species on Equestria he hadn’t made sweet, passionate love to, making him a veritable expert at pleasing quadrupeds. Periodically altering his technique, keeping her on her hooves by fixating on her clit or the erogenous zone in her balmy depths, he only slowed when he felt her thighs begin to quake.

Unlatching from her breast with a soft pop, he licked his chops and rose to his full height. “Not yet…” Pulling her to the very edge of the bed, he prized her hind legs apart and buried his turgid cock in her mountainous cleavage. “You want it?”

Practically giddy, eagerly nodding like a lucky filly on prom night, she gnawed her lip. “Uh-huh!”

His smug smile broadened, gliding his manhood between her bosoms. Tit-fucking a mare would have been fun, yet that would have to wait until later - for the time being, he had bigger, grander aspirations. Rolling his hips back and bringing the tip of his length to her slavering, winking entrance, he faltered.

“Is this a safe day for you?” he whispered, casting an anxious glance from her loins to her face.

She scrunched her snout and rolled her eyes. “Does that really matter?”

It did - it really did matter, but he was too worked up to care. Mutely telling himself to pull out instead of giving her a creampie, he plunged into her velvety, sweltering confines. Hot, slick, and looser than any pony he’d been with, which was understandable considering her age and that she’d birthed the twins not terribly long ago, her succulent depths yielded next to no resistance, yet that was far from a bad thing. Compared to the staggeringly snug snatches he’d plundered in the past, the relaxed grip of her marehood was a pleasant change of pace.

“Oh w…wow! I don’t think I’ve had something this big in me since - goodness, I’m not sure I’ve ever had something so big crammed in there before,” she stammered, lifting her head to look down at herself.

Anon cocked his head and peered at her face. “Really?”

“I mean, I may’ve been double-stuffed a few times, but you’re packing a whopper,” she reverently whispered.

Giving a small thrust, he felt his manhood nudge her womb. Despite being older, holding lord knows how many sexual encounters under her plus-sized belt, and having a pair of young foals, her flattery fanned the flames of his passion. Keeping one of her hind legs held aloft, pulling her hoof to his chest, he turned her slightly onto her side.

As he swung his hips back and freed a portion of his length, his free hand glided over her rack. “Any requests?”

“Oh yeah ~” she giggled, clenching around him, “be rough. I may not be a spring chicken, but I don’t want you holding anything back.”

The corners of his lips turned up, while he broadened his stance. “You got it...”

No sooner had the word left his mouth than he gave a fierce thrust. Her eyes rolled back, her breasts swayed, and a ripple shot through her ass and into her belly, yet he held her firm. If she wanted it hard - by the powers that be, he’d be happy to oblige. His first real plunge was followed by a second, then a third and a fourth, as he fell into a brutal rhythm of pounding her juicy cunt.

Rocking forward and back, moaning softly, she continually tensed and relaxed her depths. Though she may have had a few years on him, she definitely knew what she was doing. The sensation of her marehood, seeing her rosy interior being drawn out before being stuffed back in, the drumbeat of their colliding bodies, and the scent of sex quickly filled the air, fueling his lust and fogging his mind.

It being the first time he’d gotten lucky with a plump mare, he found himself entranced by the sight of her. Everything about her was hypnotic, from the shockwaves cascading through her pudge to the way her tits wobbled, pairing perfectly with how incredible she felt. He didn’t think of himself as a chubby chaser, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t warming to the idea of finding a mare with a bit of meat on her bones.

Slipping one hand to her groin, resting his palm just beside the meaty mound of her sex, he ran his thumb over her clit. She mewled and thrashed, throwing her head back as her pussy seized, yet she quickly composed herself. Through sheer will alone, she looked up at him then down to her abdomen.

“M…my tits -” she mumbled, “play with my tits please.”

He’d had every intention of fixating on her clit, a weak point virtually every female he knew about had, so he was taken aback by her petition. Continuing to hammer away, he moved his hand from her nethers to her bosoms. While he was a bit stunned that she’d prefer he grope her breasts, he wasn’t about to disappoint her.

Softly squeezing one pillowy boob, he watched as milk sprayed from her teat. If he’d been a bit more flexible or if her rack had been on her chest, he would have gleefully leaned over to nurse on her - sadly for the both of them, she’d have to make due with getting fondled by his dexterous digits. Shifting the trajectory of his thrusts ever so slightly, he ground his pistoning shaft against her g-spot.

Her shrill wail set his nerves alight, subconsciously prompting him to hasten his pace. The insatiable beast within him had slipped its collar, sending him into a rut-lust, and there was only one thing he could do to subdue it - show Mrs. Cake what a man was capable of. With a snort and a grunt, he flew into a frenzy.

Guided by his desires, his body moved as if it had a mind of his own. The physical pleasure she afforded was accentuated by the stimulation of how much she was enjoying herself. Her lilting voice, whimpering with each plunge, was a sweet symphony, and it grew stronger and louder with every passing second.

Sensing that she was teetering on the brink, instinctively attuned to her subtle tremors and the slight spasming of her depths, he twisted her teat and pulled. She grit her teeth, her eyes went wide, and she tensed from the tip of her hooves, before she howled out in rapture. The baptismal spray of her nectar on his crotch and thighs was gratifying to a fault, yet he was far from finished with her.

On and on he went, driving her from one climax to another, until the telltale signs of release took hold. He was positive that she wouldn’t soon forget about his carnal might, given he’d made her cum no fewer than a half-dozen times at the very least, yet a part of him wished he could have lasted longer. Having crossed the threshold, he shot forward, draped himself over her, and sank his tongue into her open, drooling muzzle.

The moment his dick throbbed and unleashed the first shot of his essence within her, she was wracked with yet another orgasm. He couldn’t have been happier with their near-tandem finale, and the kiss was the icing on the luscious cake. Save for their thrashing tongues and heaving chests, their bodies gradually went still.

“Holy cow,” she softly exclaimed, eventually pulling back and peering into his eyes.

Unable to keep himself from laughing, he fondled one cushiony cheek of her ass. “Perfect choice of words, my little heifer.”

“Says my big, strong bull,” she playfully countered, wearily smiling up at him. “I’m definitely going to pay you a visit the next time I -”

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

With her ears swiveling to the door, she rolled her eyes. “Well it sounds like the little ones are up, wonderful…”

Straightening up and stepping away, hauling his softening length from her, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I - uh - hope they’re not too cranky that we woke them up.”

“Nah - they’re probably just hungry,” she grumbled, clumsily getting her hooves beneath herself. As she stood and hopped from the bed, her legs threatening to collapse beneath herself, she peeked over her shoulder at him. “You wait right here, I’ll be right back.”

He pursed his lips, caught off guard by the order. “You don’t want me to -”

“If you don’t think I’m going to get another round or two out of you, you’ve got another thing coming,” she replied, cutting him off as she unsteadily trotted to the door. “If I can still walk, we’re not finished.”

Nervously smiling, he watched her stumble into the hallway and out of view. He definitely wouldn’t mind fucking her again, but doing so would almost undoubtedly dig him in an even deeper hole. Mrs. Cake knew everypony in Ponyville, as well as a good number of folks from out of town, so there was a very real chance that tales of his amorous abilities would soon make their way across half of Equestria - be that as it may, her assertion that she wasn’t done with him instantly renewed his vigor. He wasn’t sure how things would play out or if she’d blab to her customers about him, but he was certain of one thing - he’d just gotten another customer for himself…