Being the only human in Equestria ain't all that bad, but having an overly affectionate, naive, older mare as a caretaker isn't the easiest thing to deal with...
Damned if Anon knew why he was assigned a caretaker, considering he was a grown-ass man, but that's exactly what the Princesses had done after he arrived in Equestria. Aside from the deluded, motherly nut-job that looked after himself, his life was pretty normal. He worked a job, he had bills to pay, and he did his best to find a place for himself - regrettably and much to his continued misery, his mom™ always found a way to complicate matters.
Kinks Include: Wholesome, albeit questionable affection between a large, older mare and her adopted son
Artwork by AnonTheAnon (Twitter @RealAnonTheAnon)
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“Anon? Anon, honey, are you home?” an all too familiar voice called out, prompting Anon to clamp his eyes shut.
Waking up in a world of talking, occasionally magical horse people had been weird enough, but winding up in Equestria had only been the start of the most bizarre chapter of his life. Staying seated on the couch, turning a page of the comic book in his lap, he snorted petulantly to himself. While it was bad enough that he’d been assigned a chaperone, a unicorn to watch over him and help him integrate with society, the pony he’d wound up living with had been nothing but a tremendous headache since the day he’d arrived.
A long silence followed, broken by the sound of occasional indignant grunts and soft cursing, before the grief-stricken voice sailed to his ears. “Please tell me you’re home, Anon. I really, really could use some help here…”
He debated ignoring her, leaving her to whatever sticky situation she’d put herself in, yet his conscience gradually weighed upon him. Rolling his head back and staring at the ceiling, he groaned in consternation. “Why? What’d you -”
“I’m stuck,” she pitiably replied.
“Stuck?” he repeated. “How the hell are you -”
“I…actually, no, nevermind…” she quickly yelled.
His concern grew mingled with curiosity, leading to him throwing his comic onto the coffee table. Screw it - he hadn’t been doing anything important anyways. Pushing himself up, he got to his feet and trudged away from the couch. She was probably fine - probably, but he wasn’t about to let her languish in whatever moronic situation she’d tangled herself in. As he marched through the house, down the hallways which led to her room, he shook his head.
“Alright,” he sighed, pushing open her door, “what did you…”
The words died in his throat, he froze in place, and his cheeks darkened at the sight which awaited him. It wasn’t the fact that he was looking at a tall, rubenesque woman that took him by surprise, and it wasn’t because she was covered in fur and had a horn protruding from her forehead - no, it was what she was doing that caught unawares. With her thumbs hitched into the waistband of her jeans, jeans which appeared to be several sizes too small for her, she wriggled and tried to free herself from the stifling garment.
The majority of her coat was a dusty black, yet her face, mane, and tail were all a snow-white.
“Thank Celestia,” she muttered, glancing and affixing him with her amethyst, cat-like eyes. “Can you help mommy get out of this?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he grimaced. She wasn’t his mommy - for fuck’s sake, they weren’t even the same species - nevertheless, she’d essentially adopted him and began caring for him as though he was her son. It was a particularly bizarre dynamic, not for the least of which reasons being she towered over him like a curvaceous colossus, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world - at least it wasn’t most of the time.
Coming to stand before her, he waved a hand for her to straighten up. “Stop fidgeting so I can see what’s wrong.”
She did as he asked, freeing her hands and rising to her full, imposing height. “I think the zipper broke…” she pouted. Leaning slightly to one side, peering past her considerable rack, she glowered down at her crotch.
“Can’t you use magic to fix it?” he huffed, staring up at her face.
Hanging her head, she dejectedly turned her eyes down to the floor. “Anon, you know I’m not good with magic.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, rolling his eyes, “I almost forgot. Leech, come on, do you really think this is something I should be helping you with.”
Looking like a kicked puppy, she turned her back to him. “You know I don’t like when you call me that,” she moaned. “If it’s that much trouble, don’t worry about it…”
He drew his palm over his face, exasperated beyond all reasoning, and bit back an annoyed growl. Damned if he could explain it, but she was somehow able to play him like a fiddle. Maybe it was because she’d admitted that she’d always wanted a family while in a wine-fueled sob fest, perhaps it was due to her laundry list of failed relationships, or it might have been a result of her having spent most of her life homeless and destitute - regardless of the specifics, he’d be lying if he didn’t feel truly, genuinely bad for his self-described adopted mother.
Leech really wasn’t a bad mare - hell, she was actually sweeter and more selfless than almost anyone he’d ever met, pony or otherwise, but there was a catch. While she was kindhearted to a fault, she was easily one of the most naive creatures he’d ever come across - a drawback that was compounded by just how attractive she was. The only reason she wasn’t a god-tier MILF was because she’d never had children, though that hardly mattered to Anon’s libido.
Her hushed, melancholic sniff snapped him from his stupor, causing him to throw in the metaphorical towel. “Fine,” he defeatedly grumbled, “turn around so I can see what the problem is.”
Wheeling around and shooting forward, she beamed as she buried his head in her mountainous cleavage. “Thank you so, so, so much, Anon! I knew I could count on you!”
He allowed her to hug him, having learned that attempting to resist her was like fighting the tide, and was gently rocked from side to side. To say their relationship was bizarre would be an egregious understatement. Though she treated him like her child, it would have been impossible for him to look at her like a mother - not because she wasn’t motherly, but because a part of him found her irresistible. He knew it was wrong, that having unsavory thoughts for his caregiver was at the very least uncouth, yet he had no control over his subconscious.
With her scent lingering in his sinuses, he was set down and freed from her embrace. “Done now?”
Nodding and smiling down at him, she placed her hands on her hips. “Yup!”
He said nothing as he squatted down, bringing himself eye level with her groin. He hadn’t the slightest idea where she’d gotten the jeans, nor what had compelled her to squeeze herself into the undersized piece of apparel, but that was of little consequence. In the three short months he’d been living with her, he’d had to step in and assist her with several problems - all of which were due to her own ignorance or poor judgment.
Seeing the pull tab was missing from her fly, he peeked up at her. “Your zipper is busted.”
“Can you fix it?” she bleated.
“Without a paperclip, no,” he groused. “Where did you even get these pants anyways?”
As she bashfully glanced over to her closet, she scrunched her snout. “They’re an old pair that I’ve had for ages.”
“And you thought you’d still fit in them?” he countered.
“W…well,” she uneasily began, twisting in place and twiddling a lock of mane around her finger, “I didn’t think I’d put on that much weight…”
Standing back up, he rubbed his chin. “If you can get the button undone, I think you’ll be able to get them off.”
“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” she lamented. Pulling up her shirt, she shamelessly revealed her soft, doughy abdomen. “It’s not like I can see what I’m doing that well anyways.”
She was right. Between her bust and her belly blocking her view, the only way she’d be able to see her fly was if she had a mirror. Presuming she wanted to keep her jeans intact, he put his mind to work. There was only one thing he could think of to remedy the situation, though he was reluctant to mention it.
“Turn around,” he instructed.
Hesitantly turning away, she peered over his shoulder at him. “What are you going to do?”
He lifted his hands and stepped forward, slipping his hands around her broad, foal-bearing hips, and gripped her waistband. “Now try to unbutton it.”
Flexing his arms and pulling with all his might, he fought to get her a bit of slack to work with. If she’d been anyone else, the endeavor wouldn’t have bothered him in the slightest - unfortunately for him, that wasn’t the case. Drawing in her delicate bouquet with every breath, feeling her soft, succulent tush squished to his torso, he clamped his eyes shut and did his damnedest not to have impure thoughts.
“Almost…” she whispered, straining and fumbling with the stubborn button. “There!”
He withdrew his hands and leapt back, thanking his lucky stars that the affair had only lasted a few seconds. “Glad I could help…”
Not waiting for a response, he wheeled around and marched out of her room and into the hallway. It would have been impossible for her to know it, but the close contact, while fleeting, had put a monumental strain on his composure. He may have been a different species from a different planet, but he was still a healthy young man - a healthy young man who’d gone far, far too long without intimacy of any kind.
“Anon…” she quietly called, bringing his departure to a shuddering halt.
“What now?” he blared.
After a long, pregnant pause, peeked out of the doorway at him. “I’m still stuck…”
He scowled, whipping around to face her room. “How are you still stuck? We got the damn things unbuttoned, so why can’t you just pull them off?”
Stepping out and into view, the parted fabric of her jeans revealing white cotton of her panties, she sniffled to herself. “Please don’t be mad,” she breathed. “If you really don’t want to help, I’ll keep trying to do it myself.”
The doleful look in her watering eyes, the touch of blush in her cheeks, and knowing she had nobody else to rely on proved too much to bear. His shoulders wilted as he turned. She’d done more for him than anyone else in Equestria had, even if she was a handful at times, so he felt obligated to help her extract herself from the stifling garment.
“Just hold still,” he noted, falling to his knees before her.
With his face mere inches from her crotch, he grabbed her waistband with both hands and braced his legs. He couldn’t say how she’d managed to get the damn pants on, but he was going to make sure she got out of them without tearing them asunder. He screwed his eyes shut, sparing himself from the temptation of looking at her nethers, and set his jaw and heaved.
He had no need to see what he was doing, mostly because of the smallest bit of her fluffy white bush peeking from over the top of her panties, while he struggled against the obstinate article of clothing. From what he’d gathered, aside from her being a unicorn who was woefully unskilled in magic, she was somewhat unique in the world. Most ponies grew comparably to humans, having a growth spurt that stretched into their late teens, but Leech was an exception.
Being a veritable amazoness, taller and more heavily built than all but her most colossal country-mares, she was practically a giant. If what she’d said was true, she’d only stopped growing after she was well into her thirties, leaving her as big as most minotaurs, which explained why her home and most of her clothes had trouble accommodating her. As he attempted to distract himself, keeping his eyes firmly closed, he made an egregious error - he grunted.
The small breath was enough to assault his olfactory scent with her natural scent. While he hated to admit it, feeling a bit dirty about the concept, she smelled absolutely fantastic. Feminine, floral, and with just the slightest bit bestial, her exotic fragrance was unlike anything he’d encountered before. He shook his head and centered himself, willing blood not to flow to a very specific portion of himself, while he continued his efforts.
“I…I think I felt it -”
She fell silent, Anon toppled forward, and the world went still, as his hands carried the jeans around her ankles and to the floor. His face sank into something soft and unbelievably warm, sending a thrilled shiver up his spine. Though it took his brain a second to realize what had happened, a certain part of his anatomy took instant notice of his predicament.
“A…Anon,” she sputtered, “a…are you alright?”
His id compelled him to stay, to bask in the sublime, balmy heat that radiated over his countenance, yet his higher functions screamed for him to flee. It was only with an exertion of absolute self-control that he rocked back, freeing his face from between her thighs to gaze up at her. Her face had gone beet red, she slipped a hand down to cover herself, and she averted her gaze. He’d fucked up - he’d fucked up bad.
Scrambling to his feet, he bolted away. “I’m going for a walk!”
He needed to leave, to go somewhere - anywhere that wasn’t near her. His heart thundered in his chest, his breaths came fast and ragged, and sweat beaded his brow. Of all the possible things that could have happened, unintentionally smashing his face to her loins was by far the worst. He reached the front door in record time, having only stubbed his toe once on his hasty retreat, and only stopped to grab his keys.
“Anon, wait!” she shouted.
With one foot already out the door, he caught himself. “What?”
“Dinner will be ready in an hour,” she yelled back at him. “I’m making your favorite, so try not to be late.”
He’d seen the bag of tendies in the freezer earlier, wondering when she’d prepare the delectable, crispy chicken for him, and his angst withered at the thought of the meal. Most ponies didn’t eat meat, yet she always - always went the extra mile for him. Risking a glimpse back, seeing her head poking from out of the hallway, he tried and failed not to smile.
“I won’t be late,” he begrudgingly relented.
Her smile was that of an angel, warming the cockles of his heart, as she blew him a kiss. “Love you!”
Hesitating for the briefest of moments, he looked away and stepped out. “Love you too, mom…”
Jogging off the porch and into the yard, keenly aware of the tightness in his shorts, he hightailed it away from the house. He had an hour, an entire hour to clear his head from the sinful, wholly unwanted musings that tormented him, so he should be fine by the time he got home. As he ran through the cool air, moving in the direction of a park that lay just down the road, he couldn’t help but wonder if the flush he’d seen on her face was due to embarrassment or something else entirely…
Trudging up to the front door, digging into his pocket to grab his keys, Anon groaned to himself. Another day, another handful of bits - at least that’s what he told himself when he was working the fryer at the Hayburger down the street. Part of his integration into Equestrian society was to maintain a job, though he wished like hell he hadn’t ended up flipping tofu burgers and slinging sweet potato fries.
The moment he saw himself inside, he was stricken by an ambrosial smell that caused his stomach to growl. While he hadn’t been hungry after finishing his shift, the recognizable scent of baked confections gave him an instant change of heart. He stopped just inside the door, placing his keys on the table and shoes by the entryway, and looked in the direction of the kitchen.
“Mom?” he shouted.
“I’m in the kitchen, sweetie!” she called back.
A smile graced his lips as he strolled through the living room. It was still pretty weird that Leech insisted he call her mom, but her overwhelming maternal energy made the small task a trivial affair. She routinely made him breakfasts, she almost always packed him lunch when he had work, and he couldn’t think of a time when she didn’t cook dinner for the two of them.
Meandering into the kitchen, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. “Am I smelling brownies or -”
“Chocolate chip cookies!” she chirped, turning on her heel to present a tray of steaming, chocolate chip delectables. “I just took them out of the oven.”
On any other day, the discovery of hot, delicious treats would have lifted his spirits and made him forget all about the grueling shift he’d just endured - regrettably, he couldn’t have cared less about the confections. Like a deer in the headlights, he stared over at the massive mare. As his eyes wandered up and down her voluptuous frame, his brain struggled to process what in the hell was going on.
Heedless or uncaring of his shock, cheerfully humming to herself without a care in the world, she stepped over to the kitchen table, placed the sheet of cookies on a trivet, and beamed over at him. “They’re still hot, but I’ll get you a glass of milk anyways. I know you wouldn’t listen if I told you to wait for them to cool off.”
It wasn’t until she’d turned away from him, displaying her bare back and ass, that he finally found himself able to speak. “Why the hell are you naked?!”
Looking over at him, she pursed her lips. “What are you talking about? I’m not naked!”
“Like hell you’re not!” he spat.
She knit her brow and shifted to face him. “I am not naked!”
Though she was only correct on a technicality, he couldn’t fathom why she was traipsing about wearing nothing but an apron - an apron that, by some tender mercy, only just covered groin while doing nothing to hide her generous backside. It was only by luck or some higher power that her ample bust was veiled by the article, her breasts practically spilling out from either side of the garment, yet that somehow made her appearance all the more slatternly. Rubbing his temples and turning his gaze down to the floor, he shook his head.
“Ok, you’re not naked,” he admitted, “but why are you just wearing an apron?”
“Because I’m doing laundry in the middle of the summer,” she matter-of-factly replied.
He lifted a finger to protest, to tell her how absurd her logic was, but she’d made a good point - two good points, in fact. One of the very mixed blessings about Equestria was the world’s lack of technology. On one hand, it was a blessing to live in a land without social media and its constant, oftentimes infuriating distractions - on the other, things like high-speed internet, air conditioners, and all but the most crude video games were nonexistent.
His thoughtful consternation cost him dearly, leaving him completely off guard for when a slender finger slipped under his chin and turned his face upward. As he peered up at her, past her rack and into her caring, glimmering eyes, his mouth went dry. In spite of her age, size, and glaring lack of inhibitions, she really was a sweet woman.
She smiled down at him, her cat-like eyes moving down his chest, as she leaned forward and took hold of the hem of his shirt. “Lift your arms for mommy, dear.”
Acting without thinking, obeying her like a well-trained child, he began to do as she asked - that was before he grasped what he was doing. He lept back and away from her, saving himself from being undressed, and scowled. It wasn’t the first time she’d tried to get him out of his clothes, and it likely wouldn’t be the last, which made such bizarre occurrences doubly irritating.
“I’m not stripping for you!” he protested, crossing his arms over his chest.
Rolling her eyes, yet smiling all the same, she snickered. “Honestly, I don’t see what the big deal is! It’s hotter than Tartarus, you’re sweating like a pig, and this heatwave isn’t going to break for at least another week! Why don’t you just relax and enjoy the air on her fur - er -skin?”
“Because it’s embarrassing?” he countered. “You don’t see other ponies going around in the buff ~ do you?”
She dismissively waved a hand in his direction. “No, but that’s their loss - besides, I’m in my -”
“Our,” he hastily corrected. “You’re in our house.”
“Fine,” she conceded. “I’m in our house, so it’s not like anypony has to look at me.”
Her flippant nonchalance was and casual nudity was nothing new, yet he feared he’d never become fully desensitized to it. On more than one occasion, he’d bumped into her after she’d taken a shower, being blessed and/or cursed with seeing everything she had to bear, and she showed no signs of curtailing her actions on his account. Seeing a smug grin split her muzzle, watching her inch closer, he thrust out a hand to defend himself.
“I know you’d be more comfortable if you took those dirty clothes off,” she hummed.
Inching back, only then noticing that one of nipples was perilously close to slipping from beneath the apron, he shielded his eyes. “I really, really wouldn’t…”
“Your loss,” she sighed. “Back when I was your age, in weather like this, it wasn’t uncommon for me to lounge around wearing nothing at all.”
He balked and stared up at her. “Weren’t you homeless for most of your life though?”
“I preferred to think of myself as a vagabond,” she noted, straightening up and looking wistfully out the kitchen window, “but yes.”
While he’d understood what she’d said, that didn’t make her claim believable by any means. He’d only been in Equestria for a relatively short period of time, but he’d adjusted to their society easily enough. For all intents and purposes, the walking, talking ponies acted very similarly to humans, with essentially the same morals and societal norms, which meant one of two things - either she was full of bologna or she was even more unabashed than he’d initially thought.
“If, and that’s a really big if, that’s true, how did you not get in trouble?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.
She laughed and flashed her teeth at him, displaying canines that were a bit too prominent for an herbivore. “Who said I didn’t get in trouble?”
Compelled to see how deep the rabbit hole went, he squinted at her face. “And you didn’t stop doing it ~ did you?”
“Nope!” she proudly exclaimed, looking far more proud than she had any right to be. “Honey, I wasn’t always this - ahem - hefty. When I was younger, I could outrun most pegasi - that and most ponies couldn’t navigate woods or storm sewers nearly as well as I could. Life on the streets wasn’t easy, but I wouldn’t be as crafty as I am today without it.”
“I…huh…” he grunted, nonplussed. “So you’re telling me that you’d just run away if anyone tried to stop you from being a nudist?”
Readjusting her ponytail, the cloth over her chest doing everything in its power to keep her bosoms concealed, she nodded. “Mmmhmm - well mostly. There were a few times when royal guards, specifically mares, were able to catch me, but I never, ever had a problem getting away from the stallions.”
Moments from pressing her for the details, he clamped his mouth shut. No - there was no way he was going to ask how or why she was able to elude stallions with ease. She’d alluded to her wild youth enough to give him a pretty decent picture on what she could have done to avoid punishment for her transgressions, and he definitely didn’t want to hear any details that may sully his already dubious view of her.
She bent forward at the waist, her gargantuan breasts hanging against the apron, as her pupils shrank to razored slits. “You want to know how I did it ~ don’t you?”
He gulped, sweating from more than just the oppressive heat. Damn her - damn her keen instincts and the way she could see through him at times. She was like some sort of idiot savant, struggling with simple tasks while being insightful to the point of brilliance. Realizing she wasn’t going to let the matter lie, now that she’d sensed his interest, he cleared his throat.
“I do,” he stated, “but only if it’s nothing dirty.”
Standing tall and tittering like a school filly, portions of her jiggling with her mirth, she swung around and trotted over to the fridge. “It should be obvious,” she began, giving her tush a playful smack. “With a tush like this, it’s hard for any straight stud not to trip over themselves.”
Watching a shockwave roll over the soft cheeks of her big, juicy rump, he tore his eyes off her. Though he’d never spoken a word of it to anyone, there’d been times when he wondered what their relationship would be like if things had been a bit different. If she was a bit younger, or maybe if he’d been older, perhaps she wouldn’t look at him like a son - instead, she might consider him a…
He quietly growled and forced himself to turn away, tormented once again by blissful musings and what ifs. She’d never once shown any sort of romantic interest in him, only sparingly teasing him while fawning over him the majority of the time, and he didn’t want to threaten the wholesome, albeit strange relationship they had. For as much of a royal pain in the ass as she was, he truly did respect and appreciate her.
“I’m going to take a shower -” he huffed, storming out of the kitchen, “a cold shower.”
After quickly closing the refrigerator, she followed along after him. “Would you like some company? Being around that oven has made me -”
“No,” he cut her off, whipping around and thrusting a finger up at her. “There isn’t enough room in the shower for both of us.”
“Please,” she whined. Fanning her apron, setting her bust to sway with every motion of the article, she wiped her face with her free hand. “I’ve been cooking all afternoon, I vacuumed and dusted, and I’m drenched in sweat. A nice, cool shower would be the perfect way to cool off and spend some time with you.”
Lascivious notions, things that kept him up deep into the night, beset his beleaguered mind. There were several things they could do in the shower, and they were all questionable at best. Simply being naked together would put a monumental strain on his psyche and barely-kept impulses, like dangling a bone in front of a starving dog, so it would be in both of their best interests if he abstained.
Glancing at the valley of her bust, using all of his strength to avoid looking at the flapping fabric over her crotch, he spun away. “How about this - once I have a quick shower, I’ll set the table.”
Stomping up behind him, she grabbed his shoulders and brought him to an abrupt halt. “Not good enough…”
With his blood running cold, he craned his neck and peered up and back at her. “It…it’s not?”
“Not even close,” she muttered. “If you want to shower by yourself, you’ll have to do something for me.”
He couldn’t get away even if he wanted to. Between her inordinate size and stunning strength, the only way he could leave was when she let him leave. Her fingers ran over his shoulders and to the base of his neck, her thumbs digging into his upper back to knead some tension from his taut muscles, while she held him firmly. It was only by the grace of some higher power that she couldn’t see the front of him - specifically the tent forming in his pants.
“W…what do you want?” he stammered.
“A promise,” she continued. “You help with the dishes tonight, but tomorrow we’re going to go on a little trip together.”
His pulse spiked, a subtle tremor crept into his knees, and his thoughts began to race. She knew his schedule and was aware that he was off from work for the next two days, but she couldn’t possibly have planned to rope him into an excursion of some sort ~ could she? Good-natured and affectionate though she was, she wasn’t the type to plan things in advance - or so he’d been led to believe.
The tips of her digits slid under his collar, gracing the skin of his chest, while she leaned over and locked eyes with him. “We’re going to the pool tomorrow. Given this dreadful heat, having a bit of fun in the sun will help us both relax ~ alright?”
“A…alright,” he mumbled, her breasts acting like the biggest, softest earmuffs he could ever imagine.
No sooner did he agree than she withdrew, skipping back to the kitchen. “Perfect! I already picked out the perfect bathing suit and everything!”
There were times in his life when his intuition kicked into high gear, when some survival instinct told him that something bad was going to happen - this was, without question, one of those times. Skulking away and into the bathroom, taking care to shut and lock the door behind himself, he gradually started to undress himself. While his common sense told him that a simple trip to the community pool couldn’t possibly yield disastrous results, he was absolutely, one-hundred percent certain that he was going to regret the promise he’d just made…
Anon walked out of the locker room, shielded his eyes from the sun, and smiled. Maybe he’d been wrong - maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad afterall. Pueblo de Caballos, the relatively little village in which he lived, didn’t have all that much to offer the world, but the town’s pool was one of its most popular destinations.
At some point or another, some ingenious or idiotic official had decided to go buck wild with the city’s budget and invest in a top-tier pool for the residents. Complete with a large changing and showering facility, a diving pool, a foal’s pool, and the olympic sized main pool, the place was almost always packed during the hotter months of the year. Stepping to the side, allowing two young colts to wiz past him and jump headlong into the cool, clear water, he contentedly sighed.
Given the balmy heat, cloudless sky, and the fact that it was the weekend, it felt like everyone in town had come to relax and cool off. It was actually kind of heartwarming to see the younger ponies having fun, splashing one another or learning how to swim with their parents’ help, though the sight of them did evoke a subtle melancholy within him. Gone were the carefree days of his youth, replaced by the ennui of adulthood.
Walking over to the deep end of the pool, he eased himself down and slipped his legs into the water. Like many of his days off work, he was going to play things by ear. If and when he got tired of swimming or lounging, he’d probably head back home, maybe take a nap, and probably tidy up his room before he retired for the evening. He turned his face upward and watched a pair of pegasi sail overhead.
“There you are, sweetie!” a recognizable voice bleated.
As he twisted his torso and looked to the side, the blood drained from his face. He’d had no doubt that Leech had called out to him, her pitch and subtle accent being quite distinct, yet nothing could have prepared him for what his eyes beheld. With one hand held above her head, waving and smiling in his direction, the amazonian mare jogged toward him.
The flow of time seemed to dilate, stretching seconds into what felt like an eternity, which prolonged and amplified his torment by an unfathomable degree. He’d been out to the pool with Leech on many occasions, more than he could easily count, yet nothing could have prepared him for seeing her in such an unseemly way. Instead of the typical one-piece swimsuit she normally wore, a modest garment that, while tight, wasn’t revealing in the slightest, her current outfit was anything but conservative.
He’d seen ponies in skimpy bikinis plenty of times, but even the most revealing ones were downright tame compared to the getup Leech had stuffed herself into. Parts of his brain overloaded, while his eyes tried to drink in each and every sinful feature of her unseemly attire. Her breasts bounced with each bounding step she took, threatening to pop into the open air, and fabric clinging to her nethers left nothing to the imagination.
“How does it look?” she mused, wheeling around and bringing her hands behind her head.
The second he got a look at her back, his jaw nearly hit the concrete beneath him. Whatever cloth had been meant to cover her tush had been consumed by the large, supple mounds of her ass. He didn’t know if the article was meant to be a thong, yet a single strip of material jutted from between her buns, drew taut over her lower back, and forked over her shoulders. Her swimsuit, if the thing could even be classified as one, was easily the most obscene piece of clothing he’d ever seen anyone wear in person.
Her bikini would have turned heads and stirred loins regardless of its color, yet the neon pink of the garment was superbly eye-catching. Though the dark coat on her body and the white fur of her face, mane, and tail clashed with the outfit, the bawdy beachwear did complement her eyes almost perfectly. Drawn to a touch of alabaster on her groin, he noticed that her snowy, downy bush was painfully visible for any and all to see.
Standing in front of him, she cocked her head to the side. “Honey, are you alright?”
He gazed up at her in open awe, too shocked to speak. He’d unintentionally seen her stark naked before, but this - this was somehow more erotic than her being nude. A number of questions burst into his head, ranging from where she’d gotten the sling bikini to how in the hell she’d been allowed to exit the changing room while adorned in something so risque, yet those concerns were countered by the crippling compulsion to bask in her radiance.
Her height, the outfit, the sun gleaming behind her - if he hadn’t known better, he could have mistaken her as the embodiment of some ancient fertility goddess. Though she’d never had any children of her own, her full, weighty bosoms, foal-bearing hips, and the healthy amount of pudge she bore spoke of a fruitfulness belying her age. Unable to look away from her, lost to his stunned awe, he was broken from his trance when a wolf-whistle split the air.
She looked over and beamed at the teenage colt who’d been ballsy enough to openly heckle her. “Was that for me?”
Wading through the water and closer to her, the young unicorn stallion reached up and brushed his mane back. “I don’t see any other cute mares around,” he chuckled, shooting her a wink. “Wait - no fucking way…”
“Language!” she tutted, stomping a foot and sending a ripple up her thighs and to her bust.
The stallion climbed out of the pool, got to his feet, and grinned. “You’re that cool mare that lives by the railroad tracks ~ aren’t you?”
“I don’t know about the cool part,” she giggled, bashfully grinding her thighs together, “but I do live near the tracks.”
“My friends and I used to walk by your place on the way back from school every day!” the unicorn exclaimed, ignoring the man steadily rising behind him. “There was one time we went by and saw you sunbathing in your front yard! Holy cow - I don’t think I’ll ever forget about - Gah!”
Anon leered down at the pool, his arms outstretched from having shoved the stallion into the depths. He hadn’t the slightest idea who the punk was, but he knew good and damned well what the little bastard had been up to. While it was an all too common occurrence, spotting youthful studs eyeing her like a piece of meat, this was the first time anyone had been brazen enough to openly start flirting with her.
“Anon,” she huffed, scowling down at the man, “there’s no need to be rude!”
Turning to face her, having inadvertently drawn more attention over to them, he glared up at her. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
Her expression softened slightly. “Is something wrong?”
Looking to the side, noticing a number of vacant lounge chairs to the side, he nodded. “Just come on.”
He didn’t wait for her reply, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her behind himself. A pony of her size stood out like a sore thumb in any situation, but her choice of swimwear would all but guarantee every stallion who was even remotely straight quickly took notice of her. Stopping under the shade of one of the poolside umbrellas, he motioned for her to sit.
“Where did you get that?” he grumbled, his eyes tracing the twin strands of cloth sinking into her bosoms.
Peeking down at herself, she scrunched her snout. “My bikini?”
“Yes,” he groaned, “the damn bikini…”
“Oh! Well I was out at the mall last weekend when a fine young stallion in the mare’s clothing store pointed it out to me,” she merrily exclaimed. “I wasn’t going to get it, considering how much the silly thing cost, but the salespony offered me a discount!”
As he squinted up at her, his frown deepened. “He offered you a discount…?”
“Mmmhmm!” she hummed. “After I tried it on, he liked it so much that he let me have it for fifty percent off - heck, he even asked if he could take a few pictures of me wearing it!”
“Lee -” he began, cutting himself off as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mom, you didn’t let him take pictures ~ did you?”
With a proud smile on her face, she nodded. “I sure did - in fact, I was thinking about going back there soon! The clerk said he’d be willing to let me model more of their clothes, as long as he had his camera handy!”
He clenched his jaw and balled his fist, seething at the thought of some random asshole taking unscrupulous pictures of the naive mare. “If you go back, I want to come with you - you know, so I can meet this nice stallion who was being so generous…”
“Of course, sweetheart!” she chirped, shooting forward and trapping him in a hug.
With his face pressed firmly to the fur of her chest, his head entombed in her rack, he gently pushed himself away and freed himself. Had this been any other occasion, he would have started blushing in embarrassment, yet all he felt was cold, unyielding contempt. She may have been a royal headache at times, but he wasn’t about to let some slimy dickhead, regardless of what sort of discounts they offered, take advantage of her gullibility.
Stepping back, she quirked a brow. “So what did you want to talk to me about, honey?”
“Did you bring a change of clothes?” he asked, gathering his thoughts and tamping down his indignation.
She shrugged and shook her head. “No, but I made sure to pack us towels, water, and some suntan lotion ~ why?”
Hanging his head, he closed and rubbed his eyes. “Wait right here.”
He turned and ran back to the changing area. Though he’d intended to use his towel after he’d finished swimming, the less than ideal circumstances demanded he grab their supplies post haste. His only hope was that nobody would harass Leech while he was away, yet that felt like praying for rain in the Sahara desert.
Collecting his things in less than a minute, he shot out of the locker room in a dash - sadly, it was already too late. Seeing an older, admittedly burly pegasus standing over the then supine mare, laughing and chatting with her, his temper flared. He slowed as he approached, not wanting to instigate a fight but fully prepared to shoo the big lug off, and lifted a hand.
“Here we go!” he chipperly noted, circumventing the beefy stallion to sit on the edge of her seat. “Wouldn’t want you to get a sunburn ~ would we?”
Gingerly taking her wrist, he lifted and kissed the back of her hand. The way he saw it, there was one possible way for him to throw a monkey wrench in the pegasus’ plans - he’d act like Leech’s paramour. He knew it would be awkward, especially if she got the wrong idea, but going toe to toe with the musclebound lug would end one of two ways - he’d either end up getting folded like a lawn chair or he’d be made a laughing stock.
“So - uh - who’s this?” the stallion grumbled, casting a baleful glance over to the human.
“Oh that’s Anon!” she blithely replied, sitting up and running her fingers over his head. “He’s my -”
“I’m her man,” he interrupted, grinning at the stallion’s face. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure my special little mare doesn’t get too crispy while getting her tan.”
The pegasus’ reaction couldn’t have been better, sullenly frowning as he turned and shuffled off, but Leech’s reaction was equal parts bewildering and disconcerting. Looking from the retreating stallion to her face, fully expecting her to be confused, he discovered her biting her bottom lip. Gone in a blink of an eye, the bizarre look on her face disappeared so quickly that he couldn’t be certain he’d seen it in the first place - still, for a fleeting instant, he could have sworn he’d seen a glimmer in her heavily-lidded eyes.
“You’re my man?” she purred, twisting her arm and seizing his wrist. “Tell me, what exactly does that mean?”
“I - um - well, y…you see,” he sputtered, trying to stand.
“You’re not going to leave ~ are you?” she pressed, the corners of her full, pouting lips turning up.
He swallowed hard, feeling her vice-like grip on his arm. Unless he was willing to gnaw the extremity off, there was no escape. Being firmly held by a scantily clad mare would have been off-putting in and of itself, yet the contemptuous stares he got from a good number of the pool’s attendees made his position all the more mortifying. Virtually every virile male in the place gazed upon him with admiration, jealousy, or some combination of the two, making him increasingly self-conscious about the predicament he’d flung himself into.
Slipping one hand into their belongings from the ground, Leech smirked. “Since you offered…”
“Offered?” he parroted as she released his wrist.
“You said you didn’t want me to get burned,” she whispered. “Since you’re so worried about me, how about you be my man and put some lotion on me.”
Unease, excitement, and confusion waged a pitched battle in his mind, locking his higher functions and robbing him of the ability to move. Had she misinterpreted his bluff? Did she actually want him to slather her with lotion? Could she possibly have the slightest idea of what of him being her man entailed? Pushing herself up on one arm, she rolled onto her stomach and rested her head on her hands.
“Don’t leave me waiting for too long,” she cooed, peeking over her shoulder at him with a glint in her eye.
The view of her back was staggering, giving him a moment for pause. While she wasn’t what he’d describe as athletic, he could make out the muscles on her shoulders, neck, and upper back - what’s more, her nearly-bare buns practically begged to be squeezed. Jumping when something bumped against his thigh, having completely missed her pulling the bottle of suntan lotion from the bag, he stared down at her hand.
Rolling her hips from side to side, she faintly chuckled. “If you don’t do it, I’m sure somepony else will…”
He sank to one knee, his legs nearly giving out, and grabbed the lotion from her hand. Though he was loath to admit it, she’d made a very valid point. He’d bet everything he had and would ever own that leaving her for even a moment would give some intrepid, lustful soul an opportunity to put their hands all over her - likely in a very unscrupulous way. With but the slightest bit of hesitation, offering a mute plea for any higher powers listening to give him strength, he uncapped the bottle and squirted some of the thick, viscous fluid into his hand.
What happened after that moment, once he’d slicked his palms in lotion, was a total mystery. He’d heard that people could occasionally mentally check out in times of psychological duress, acting in a daze without thought, and this must have been one of those occasions. When he finally came back to his senses, with the sun having dipped toward the horizon, he realized hours had passed.
He looked over as Leech sat up, arching her back and stretching her arms over her head, and licked his lips. The sheen on her body led him to believe he’d coated every exposed inch of her with the sunscreen - a conclusion made all the more concrete by the flashes and repressed memories of his hands gliding over her belly, thighs, and bust. If he’d done anything unsavory to her - with her, she showed no sign - if anything, she simply looked relaxed and very content.
“I really needed that,” she sighed, swinging her legs over and standing beside him. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?”
As he went to get up, he numbly nodded. “Yeah…”
She took him by the hand and smiled, her contented look as pure and innocent as the first snow of winter. “Would my little man want some pizza tonight? It’s getting late and I’d rather not cook anything.”
Despite himself, he grinned. He was sun-burnt, exhausted, and heaven only knows what sort of display he’d put on while rubbing her down, yet the promise of pizza soothed his tattered nerves. As he strolled along beside her, her wobbling bosoms dominating his peripheral vision, a small amount of pride welled within him. He may not have actually been her man, but he was most definitely her human…
“Welcome to the Hayburger, home of the hayburger,” Anon droned, staring glassy-eyed across the counter. “How can I help you today?”
"I'll have two number nines, a number nine large, a number six with extra dip, a number seven, two number forty-fives, one with cheese, and a large soda,” a portly stallion intoned, peering up at the expansive menu.
Anon rang the customer up and waved the stallion over to await the gastronomic apocalypse of grease, cheese, and gluten, and semi-artificial ingredients. Working at the Hayburger wasn’t the worst thing in the world, requiring nearly no thought, yet it was far from a fulfilling job. As the hefty patron stepped to the side, he turned his attention back to the queue, did a double take, and went rigid.
He wasn’t surprised to see Leech, given her proclivity for sub-par dining, but he was taken aback by what she was wearing. Instead of any sort of conventional attire, such as the t-shirts and snugly-fitting shorts she favored, the tall, shapely mare was adorned in what looked like - no, what was a curtain from their house. Wrapped around her like a toga, voluminous fabric hugged her weighty chest, ample hips, and presumably her prodigious posterior.
“Hi, honey!” she chirped, shooting forward and wrapping her arms around him.
Hastily gathering himself, he gently pushed her away and freed himself. “Lee - Mom, I’m working!”
Beaming down at him, she straightened up and placed a paper bag on the counter. “I know, sweetheart, but you forgot your lunch this morning.”
As much as he appreciated her kindly gesture, her unexpected appearance was the last thing he needed. For starters, her bizarre choice of clothing, full-figure, and gargantuan size drew amorous looks from customers and his coworkers alike - secondly, there were at least a dozen ponies waiting in line to order. He turned his head, glanced at the clock behind him, and gave a sigh of relief.
“I can take my lunch break in a few minutes,” he noted, nodding over to the dining area. “If you want to wait, I’d be happy to join you shortly.”
Grinning from ear to ear, she squinted up at the placard of combos hung from the ceiling. “Now then - what to get…”
He waited and impatiently tapped his foot, hoping she’d make her selection and get out of the way - alas, she took her sweet time. “So - um - do you know what you want?”
“I’d like a chicken sandwich, sweet potato fries, and a diet lemonade,” she hummed. “Oh and can I get a parfait too?”
Nodding and hastily punched her order into the register, he scowled at a young stallion who was eyeing her backside. “Alright - I’ll bring your food out in a few minutes.”
Fuck if he could say why she’d discovered a new use for one of their curtains, yet he didn’t have the time or energy to question it. Practically shooing her away, waving his hands as she tried to give him a peck on the cheek, he pulled several bits from his pocket, paid for her meal, and got back to work. While he would have - should have been more annoyed with her, he couldn’t be angry.
For all her eccentricities and dubious decisions, Leech really did care for him. His actual parents hadn’t ever brought him food while he’d been on the clock, nor did they regularly make him breakfast or ask how his day had been, elevating her standing in his eyes. After several more minutes of tending to customers, he switched places with a coworker, took the tray with her order, and wandered into the dining area.
Leech waved at him from a corner booth, making herself less inconspicuous than she already was. “I’m over here!”
“I know,” he groaned, weaving past tables to seat himself opposite from her. Placing her meal down and sliding it over to her, he was presented with the bagged lunch she’d brought. “Thanks for this.”
“Don’t mention it,” she giggled, resting her hand on his forearm. “I couldn’t let my special little man go hungry ~ could I?”
He nervously smiled, opening the paper bag and peering inside. Though he didn’t have many regrets involving her, he wished he’d never proclaimed he was her man - not because the poolside ploy hadn’t worked, but because she’d started using the term with him more and more frequently. The development wouldn’t have been that bad if the particular phrase didn’t have romantic implications, but that wasn’t the case. Intended or not, she inadvertently advertised that they were an item.
Unwrapping and bringing the chicken sandwich to her muzzle, she opened her mouth and helped herself to a rather sizable bite. As if her makeshift toga didn’t make her a spectacle, the sight of a grown mare eating meat garnered her even more awestruck looks. There weren’t many if any equines that openly consumed flesh, yet she had no reservations about showing off her omnivorous diet to the public.
“So,” he began, causing her to peer over at him, “what’s up with all this?”
She peeked down at herself, adjusted the cloth over her chest to better cover her cleavage, and swallowed. “The toga?”
“Yeah,” he grunted.
Washing down the bite with a sip from her drink, she gave a small shrug. “I just thought it would look cute.”
“You got your clothes dirty this morning ~ didn’t you?” he asserted, not buying her explanation for a second.
Her shoulders wilted, a blush into her cheeks, and her smile wavering. “N…no…”
She had - she totally had. Aside from all her other peculiarities, she wasn’t what he’d call graceful in the slightest. Cooking, gardening, grocery shopping - hell, even the most simple tasks typically resulted in her having to shower off and do a load of laundry. He wasn’t particularly bothered by how often she made messes, since she always cleaned up after herself, but it would be nice if she wasn’t so clumsy.
Watching her sink her teeth into the grilled chicken, he lifted a brow. Her fang-like canines and eyes were singular, traits he hadn’t seen in other ponies around in Equestria - well besides the few bat-ponies he’d run across. Peering over at him, chewing her mouthful, she cocked her head.
“What?” she asked. “Is there something on my face?”
Shaking his head, he thrust a hand into his lunch bag. “I was just wondering about your teeth.”
“My teeth?” she parroted. Swinging her jaw open, she tapped one elongated tooth with a finger. “Don’t tell me there’s something stuck in them…”
“Nah,” he snickered, lifting a caesar wrap she’d made for him up to his face.
Helping himself to a bite, he savored the combination of lettuce, cheese, and baked chicken. For all her faults, she was actually a decent cook. As a drop of dressing rolled down his chin, she extended an arm and wiped his face with a napkin.
“And you say I’m the messy one,” she mused
“Takes one to know one,” he countered, reaching over and rubbing a dollop of mayo from her cheek.
Attempting to withdraw his hand, having wished only to playfully return her gesture, he was startled when she grabbed his wrist. Leaning forward, pressing her bust to the table, she opened her jaw, extended her tongue, and wrapped her lips around his digit. He shivered, his hair stood on end, and his loins stirred as she sucked his digit clean.
“So - uh - what made you use a curtain?” he inquired, pulling his hand back and doing his damnedest to talk about something - anything that may distract him from the sinful thoughts clawing at his mind.
Reclining in her seat, she proudly showed off her improvised garment. “It’s prettier than a bed sheet and it’s just big enough to cover everything.”
The curtain was pretty large, long enough to cover her to her ankles, and its flower patterns were rather eye-catching - still, he was actually impressed with how well she’d managed to don the thing. “I’m guessing this isn’t the first time you’ve made a toga for yourself.”
“And it won’t be my last,” she added, waving a fry over at him. “Back when I was living on the streets, homemade togas were one of the cheapest, comfiest options for wearing much of anything. If you wanted, I could show you how to make one yourself!”
As he went to reply, to tell her that there was no need, she shuffled over, got to her feet, and stood beside the booth. He knew what was coming, scrambling over to stop her, but it was too late. Before he could get up, she’d wheeled around and was fiddling at the cloth wrapped around her torso.
“The first step is to get a sheet that’s the right size,” she merrily remarked. “You fold it in half, throw it over your shoulder, then bring it around you - Shoot.”
Though he couldn’t see exactly what had happened, he quickly surmised that she’d suffered a slight wardrobe malfunction. Her hands shot to her chest, the material around her went slack, and the toga nearly crumpled off her frame. A stallion seated nearby started choking on his meal, a young mother covered her colt’s eyes, and an older griffon nearly spit out his drink, while she wrestled with the garment.
“You were supposed to pin it in place!” Anon groaned, burying his face in his hands.
“I couldn’t find the clothes pins!” she bleated, turning to face him.
As he was given a good look at her front, his fears were realized. The fabric over her rack was slack, only held in place by one of her arms, and she was only making the situation worse. Bolting upright, he abandoned his meal and went to help her. Making a scene anywhere would have been bad, but having her put on an impromptu burlesque show at his job would be catastrophic.
Batting him away, she grimaced. “I can do it myself!”
“No - no you obviously can’t,” he groused, reaching for the loose cloth.
She obstinately twisted her torso to one side, obstinately trying to fix the toga herself. “I can - Aaaahn!”
The lascivious noise brought the room to a standstill. Though he’d merely wanted to hold the fabric for her, allowing her to use both her hands without exposing herself, he found his fingers sinking into the supple flesh of her left breast. Hot, soft, and shockingly heavy, the mountainous bosom felt terrifyingly incredible in his grasp, leaving him frozen in place.
“A…Anon,” she whispered, her pleading eyes gazing down at his face, “please, n…not here.”
He could all but feel a blood vessel burst somewhere in his brain. Not only had he inadvertently copped a feel in front of a room of ponies eating lunch, but he’d done so with a mare that was, for all intents and purposes, his mom. Withdrawing his hand as if her bust was a serpent, having sensed something going rigid under his palm, he peeked over at the spectators.
Several ponies went to leave, mostly families with foals, but many remained in their seats to enjoy the display. Yeah - he was definitely going to catch hell for this from his boss. He uneasily swung his eyes up to her, saw that her face had gone beet red, and was hit with a pang of sympathy.
“You got it?” he murmured.
She nodded, having finally resecured the article. “I think so…”
He placed his lunch on the tray with her meal, picked up the food, and made for the nearest exit. “Let’s finish eating outside.”
Following along behind him, Leech excused herself to the diners. It was one thing to deal with her being a ditz on her own, but he couldn’t recall a time when he’d accidentally been a part of one of her awkward performances. Holding the door open, immeasurably thankful that nobody was sitting outside, he hung his head in shame.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
Slowing as he closed the door, she came to a halt next to him. “Sorry for what?”
“For embarrassing you,” he clarified. “I was -”
“Honey, you didn’t embarrass me,” she interjected, squatting down while cupping his face in her hands.
He turned his eyes to her, confused by her claim. “Wait - you aren’t embarrassed?”
“It takes a lot more than that to embarrass me,” she tittered, winking at him.
“Well if you’re not embarrassed, what…” he trailed off as understanding dawned on him.
Her glowing features, the indecent noise she’d made, and her comment about ‘not here’ could have been misinterpreted as humiliation, but it was what her bra didn’t cover that was what ultimately gave her feelings away. There were two very prominent bumps on her chest, one on each behemoth bosom, that the thin fabric made painfully obvious. Though she hadn’t been mortified, he sure as hell was - not just because he’d groped her, but because of the revelation that she’d liked it.
She rose to her full height and loomed over him, her rack at his eye level, and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you alright, honey? You’re looking a bit flushed.”
His heart pounded in his chest, his breaths grew fast and ragged, and adrenaline flooded his system. He’d heard about fight or flight responses before, those rare times when the survivalistic parts of one’s mind kicked into high gear, but this was something all the more unnerving. Instead of fear, a raw, primal passion boiled up inside him.
“If you’re not feeling well, maybe you should come home and rest,” she purred, holding his shoulders and drawing him in.
The thought of being pulled into her embrace was as appealing as it was horrifying. His higher functions screamed at him not to submit, that caving to his urges would break him, but his bestial desires pleaded with him to give in. Just a hug, a simple, innocent hug couldn’t hurt anything ~ right? Gliding his palms up her hips and to her waist, sensing her body heat through her toga, he snapped to his senses when a peculiar, dreadful ache struck him.
“I gotta get back to work!” he squawked, turning and dashing back inside.
He couldn’t afford to tell her goodbye - not because his lunch break was almost over, but because of growing tightness in his slacks. Rushing back to the counter, almost knocking his coworker away from the register, he struggled to get his raging libido under control. Leech would undoubtedly be a bit crestfallen by his abrupt departure, but he’d find some way to make it up for her - either intentionally or not…
Shuffling out of his bedroom and down the hallway, Anon stifled a yawn. He hadn’t wanted to wake up before his alarm went off, but rolling over and seeing he only had five minutes left to sleep had forced his hand. He’d promised Leech he’d help her with something that morning, even if she hadn’t said what the something was, so delaying the inevitable would be a waste of time for the both of them.
“Mom,” he grumbled, knocking on her door. “Mom, you up?”
“I’m in the living room, honey!” she called out from the opposite end of the house. “Sorry I didn’t come and get you up myself, but I was getting ready.”
Executing a languid about-face, he trudged in the other direction. “Getting ready for…”
As the kitchen and living room came into view, he fell silent. Their den was spacious, having a sofa, recliner, and a record turntable on the carpeted floor, but something was different about the area. All the furniture had been pushed to the side, leaving a large vacant spot in the center of the floor. With his curiosity piqued, he scratched his back and continued onward.
“Why’d you move everything?” he asked, looking around for the giant mare.
Stepping out from the foyer, she grinned over at him. “Because we’re going to need the space, silly!”
Aside from her response not addressing his question in the slightest, her attire compounded his confusion. Pastel sweatbands circled her wrists, ankles, and forehead, a struggling sports bra clung to her chest, and what looked like a pair of yoga shorts, so tight that they may as well have been a second skin, pinched her thighs and waist. The brightly-colored sportswear contrasted her dark coat in an insanely pleasant way, the pink standing out against her dark fur, yet that was part of the problem.
While she was free to wear whatever she chose at home, out of the public eye and away from lustful stallions, he was a healthy young man with what he considered to be healthy needs - needs that her voluptuous figure and affectionate personality exacerbated. She’d taken him in, cared for him, and did everything in her power to make sure he had a comfortable life, so he couldn’t bring himself to act on his feelings for her. With a defeated groan, he wheeled around and loped back to his room.
“Let me get some sorts on,” he frustratedly intoned.
She’d mentioned wanting to get in shape on several occasions, periodically bemoaning how she’d put on weight over the years, so he wasn’t that surprised to find out she intended to make him her exercise buddy. If she wanted to lose a few pounds, that was totally fine with him - in fact, though he wasn’t particularly looking forward to the exertion, he really needed to start working out himself. Between her good cooking, a relatively sedentary life, and a job that wasn’t all that stressful, he was far from the peak of fitness himself.
After hastily throwing on a pair of jogging shorts and a tank-top, he returned to the living room with lifted spirits. Working out wouldn’t be the funnest thing in the world, but it might help him get a marefriend for himself - that and he’d rather not deal with the long-term determinants of slothful life. While he doubted he’d ever be some buff gym rat, having some definition and losing his belly should be achievable with enough time and effort.
“So I’m guessing we’re doing something inside?” he inquired, watching her sink to her knees on the floor.
“For the time being, yeah. It’s too hot to do much of anything outside,” she harrumphed, glancing over at the window.
Easing himself down next to her, he fell to one knee. “Fair enough. So what’s the plan?”
She leaned to one side and grabbed a little box resting by the couch. “These should help and make things interesting - like a game!”
Taking the package from her hand, he opened the box and discovered it was a pack of cards. Instead of holding a numbered suit, each card depicted a different yoga position. The concept was novel, making something fun out of what would usually be a taxing endeavor, and he figured it couldn’t hurt to give it a shot. He thoroughly shuffled the deck and set it down between himself and the massive mare, feeling a bit more enthused about the impending ordeal.
“You draw,” he instructed.
Flipping over one card, she smiled. “Downward dog. I’ll go first!”
“I think we can both…” he began, but it was too late.
She kicked her legs out behind her, placed her palms on the floor, and inched her feet forward. Though the pose wasn’t the hardest thing he’d seen in the deck, with some positions looking like you’d need a spine made out of jello, he momentarily doubted she’d be able to pull it off; she proved him wrong with jarring speed. With her body forming an almost perfect ninety-degree angle, her ass thrust up into the air, she looked over and smirked at him.
Tearing his eyes off her immaculately presented, upturned rump, he pursed his lips. He wasn’t about to let her outshine him - no way, no fucking how. He was younger than her, more slender than her, and he should be able to pull off the pose as easily as she had - sadly, as he struggled to get into position, he found out it was no easy task. Despite his grunting and groaning, sucking in his gut and flexing his legs, his body refused to obey him.
“No no no,” she tutted, getting back onto her knees and shifting to face him. “Here - like this…”
With one of her hands on the back of his thighs, and the other sliding over his shoulder blades, he set his jaw. She was doing her best to assist him, simply holding him steady, yet the physical contact sent an excited shiver surging through him. Her hands were soft and warm, her words were quiet and comforting, and her delicate, feminine aroma tickled his nostrils, making the ordeal herculean.
Sliding one hand up his back, around his side, and to his abdomen, she lifted his midsection. “Tense here…”
“Didn’t know - Nnnph - you knew yoga?” he wheezed.
“Oh yeah, this is nothing,” she laughed. “I might not look like it now, but I used to be very flexible.”
Only able to achieve the downward dog with her assistance, holding the pose for only a few seconds, he collapsed to the floor and grimaced. “Guess that explains why -”
“This is a really tricky one,” she stated, cutting him off.
As he looked over in her direction, his heart shot into his throat. Balanced on her tush, with her legs folded behind her arms and pressed together at the back of her head, she placed her palms together and slowly exhaled. The position was as obscene as it was confounding, her thighs lewdly parted and tits smashed together, and it filled his head with all the wrong ideas.
Humming softly to herself, she cracked an eye open peer out at him. “It’s called the sleeping yogi.”
In defiance of his better judgment, acting of their own volition, he peeked down at her groin. The imprint of her plump loins and pillowy thighs through her shorts was the stuff horny colts dreamt about, sending blood to the last place he needed it to be. He shuddered to think what her pliability could do in a more lecherous context, doing the sort of things that could wrap any stallion or mare lucky enough to share an intimate evening with her around her finger, as he forced himself to avert his gaze.
“Good for you,” he grouched, flipping the next card on the deck over.
“Oooooooooooooooooh!” she excitedly purred. “Seated straddle - this is a fun one!”
Slipping her feet from behind her head, she spread her legs and placed her palms against the floor. The ease with which she was able to attain such a feat was galling, making him look like an arthritic senior in comparison, but he wasn’t about to throw in the towel. He clumsily mirrored her movements, awkwardly splaying his lower limbs while feeling like something in his pelvis was going to tear. While he couldn’t perform the near-split as well as her, he took some modicum of pride that he was able to get pretty damn close.
Her eyes wandered over him, lingering on his crotch for just long enough to make him nervous, before they ultimately found their way to his pinched expression. “Not too bad, sweetheart. If you keep up with stretches like that, you might not need a marefriend.”
The remark, paired with her cheeky grin and an impish look in her eye, brought a scowl to his face. “Says the old mare who’s apparently double-jointed everywhere.”
“Not everywhere,” she whispered, grabbing and lifting one leg straight over her head, “but pretty close.”
Her dexterity was beyond what some contortionists could achieve, and he was finding it harder and harder to keep himself from imagining what salacious uses her flexibility could do in a bedroom. She’d never openly discussed past lovers, but he wouldn’t be shocked to hear she’d left a whole host of carnal conquests in her wake. She was energetic, happy-go-lucky, strong, and resourceful, things that any allegedly heterosexual stallion would kill for in a mare, so he couldn’t help but wonder how in the world she was still single.
As she flipped the next card, revealing another relatively simple pose, he steeled his resolve. He may have been a fraction of her size, lacked her level of experience, and couldn’t come close to contorting himself like she could, yet his pride wouldn’t let him quit. Giving it his very best, he went back and forth with her while pushing the boundaries of what his rigid joints could endure.
Seconds passed into minutes and longer still, his muscles aching while he grew slick with sweat, but he wasn’t the only one suffering. Leech huffed and puffed, damp patches were appearing on her clothes, and her coat glistened in places. She may not have openly complained about it, but the exercise was taking a toll on her.
“Don’t throw your back out,” he teased, laughing until something popped in his back.
Glaring over at him, she flashed her teeth. “I could keep this up, but I don’t want to make you look bad.”
He scowled, went to stand, and winced in pain. The last position he’d been in had been the epitome of deception. What he’d assumed would be easy, balancing on his hands and one knee while lifting a leg up and back, had nearly crippled him. His back seized, his limbs refused to obey him, and he’d ended up locked in place.
Leech’s mirth shifted to one of concern, seeing his unease. “Honey, are you ok?”
“I…I can’t move…” he whimpered, wracked with panic and no small amount of discomfort.
Leaping upward and landing on her feet, she stepped over, knelt down, and wrapped an arm around his torso. She didn’t say a single word, but her stoic actions spoke volumes. Lifting him from the floor, moving him like he weighed nothing, she folded his arms over his chest, pulled him to her bosom, and leaned backward. As each and every one of his vertebrae cracked, he yelped in shock.
“Ssssssssssssh,” she hissed, rocking him back and forth while letting his legs dangle freely. “Deep breaths - in and out…”
He obediently did as she asked, praying she knew what she was doing, until a soothing coolness radiated from his back. Though he still didn’t feel great, he felt much better than he had seconds prior. Craning his head and gazing up at her, wearily smiling, she straightened up and smirked down at him.
“Better?” she inquired.
“Better…” he affirmed.
Once she’d gingerly set him back down, releasing him from her grasp, he spun and instinctively gave her a hug - something he instantly came to regret. She smelled good at any given time, her natural scent being all but intoxicating, but the bouquet of her fresh sweat was enough to make him lightheaded. Ignoring the wetness against his cheek, he rubbed his face in the gully of her bust. Maybe it was because he was overwhelmed by her saving his back, or it could have been the exotic, heady musk he drew in with every breath - regardless of exactly why, he couldn’t bring himself to withdraw.
“H…honey,” she sputtered, attempting to push him back.
He closed his eyes and basked in the heat radiating from her. There was a point at which any living creature surrendered, giving up and accepting their fate, and Anon had reached that threshold. As one hand crept up her back, the other slithered down to her backside. Just as he went to give her a squeeze, he was driven backwards and slammed into the couch.
The move was so fast and shocking that he didn’t realize what had happened until he shook his head and peered upward. With her legs to either side of his hips, pinning his arms over the back of the sofa, she panted above him. The look in her eyes, her cat-like pupils reduced to razored slits, was sobering as all get-out. He couldn’t say what was going through her head, but he’d never felt more vulnerable in his life.
He’d roused something in her, a force he was utterly powerless to stop, and he was torn between abject horror and unfettered glee. She could do anything she wanted to with him, and that notion may have been the most alarmingly arousing thing he’d ever experienced before. She slowly bent forward, drool slipping past her pouting lips to glint on her chin, while the tumultuous maelstrom of emotions caused a very particular part of him to react.
Faltering, she shot forward, peered down at his groin, and sprang off of him in the blink of an eye. “I…I…” she gulped, hitching a thumb in the direction of the bathroom. “I need a shower - a very, very cold shower.”
She stumbled over herself as she ran away, stubbing her toe on the kitchen counter and cursing while she disappeared from view. The exchange left him nonplussed, literally at a loss for words, but then he felt it - the singular sensation of struggling fabric below his waistband. He hadn’t been aware of exactly how his body had responded to her spontaneous assault, yet his enthusiasm had brought the exchange with her to an all too swift end.
Sitting in silence, covering his shame with a cushion from the sofa, he waited until she was finished with her cold shower so he could fling himself under some ice-cold running water himself. He felt certain that she hadn’t meant to do something so aggressive, just like how he hadn’t intended to cause her any amount of dismay, but what was done was done. Maybe next time, if there was a next time, they should do some exercise that was slightly less provocative for either of them…
Anon walked inside, kicked the door closed behind himself, and knelt down to remove his shoes after another long, relatively tiresome day at work. “Mom, you home?”
“In the kitchen,” she replied from deeper in the home.
Knitting his brow, he grimaced. Though it had been nearly two weeks since he’d done yoga with Leech, things hadn’t been the same between himself and his adoptive mom. She still made him lunch, treated him well, and took immaculate care of the house, yet she’d acted differently ever since they’d exercised together - almost distant in comparison to her normal, chipper self. Having played and replayed the incident a number of times, he was left to assume that her impassioned assault on him, forcing him down to straddle him, had taken some sort of mental toll on her.
He wandered through the house, into the kitchen, and smiled when he saw her standing at the counter. “Your - uh - your day go well?”
Without so much as looking back, she gave a small shrug. “It was alright. How was work?”
“Annoying as ever,” he halfheartedly laughed, stepping up behind her.
He lifted his arms, intent to give her a hug, but ultimately paused. This wasn’t right - this wasn’t right at all. She almost always greeted him at the door, regardless of whatever she was working on, and he’d only recently realized how much he appreciated her care and affection. He’d heard it said that you didn’t appreciate what you had until it was gone, but it was a bitter pill to swallow.
While he’d be the first to admit that she could be overwhelming at times, embarrassing him while they were out or occasionally hugging him so hard that he could feel his ribs creak, he didn’t necessarily want her to change. She was a good mare at heart, in spite of her flaws, and he felt terrible that he may have played some part in whatever was wrong with her. Lost to his thoughts, he started when she turned to face him.
As she looked down at his partially outstretched arms, her eyes went alight and a smile split her muzzle - regrettably, her joy faded almost as quickly as it had appeared. She stepped to the side, walked past him, and patted him on the shoulder, leaving him alone with the bowl of salad she’d been preparing. There weren’t many things that could leave him unsettled - genuinely unsettled, but her abrupt withdrawal struck a sorrowful cord deep within him.
“Wait,” he croaked, wheeling around toward her.
She slowed just beyond the threshold of the living room and peeked over her shoulder at him. “I ate a late lunch, but I can sit with you if you want me to -”
“I don’t care about the food!” he lamented, marching over and grabbing her by the hand. Staring up at her, seeing the shocked, almost wounded look on her face, he suddenly found it hard to speak. “Mom, can we talk?”
Opening her mouth to say something, she quickly pursed her lips, averted her gaze, and gave a small nod. “Of course we can…”
Her voice was as faint as faint as a whisper on the wind, barely audible, and it filled him with a turbulent mix of emotions. Anger, regret, sorrow, frustration - each fought for dominance in his mind, making it almost impossible for him to think, yet he fought through the maelstrom. She’d done so much for him, a weird alien she hadn’t known months prior, and he’d be damned if he was going to let the joyful, happy-go-lucky mare who’d taken him in disappear from his life.
“Mom,” he began, clearing his throat while lacing fingers with her, “we’re going camping this weekend.”
She cocked her head to the side, her melancholy sundered by confusion. “We are?”
“Yeah,” he asserted. “I already took time off of work, I bought us a tent, and there’s a little campground -”
“Sunny Meadows,” she interrupted with the slightest hint of enthusiasm in her voice. “They’re only a little way from here - two-hours’ walk, if I remember right.”
Grinning up at her, he tightened his grip on her hand. “That’s the one. After hearing how you’re such a wiz with outdoor stuff, I figure you could show me how to rough it.”
Once again, her expression wavered from barely-kept joy to somber. “I…I don’t know. It’s been a long, long time since I did any camping - plus I’m not as young as I used to be. Maybe you could -”
“No,” he sternly interrupted. “You’re my mom, I love you, and we’re going to eat s'mores and tell stories around a fire.”
Standing on his tiptoes, he hopped up, pecked her cheek, and slipped by her without saying another word. He’d freely admit that he was about as far from a genius as a guy could get, although he’d like to consider himself relatively clever - as such, he’d planned for this inevitability. Since Leech was showing no signs of getting out of her funk, he was going to take them on a little vacation, give them both a bit of time away from home, and hopefully - hopefully lift her spirits.
Even though he was tired, hungry, and reeked of fried food, he trudged upstairs to shower and pack. Given it was Friday evening, there was much to do and little time to do it. Not only did he have to rummage around in the attic for the tent he’d surreptitiously hidden from her, knowing she the collapsible stairs leading to the loft weren’t robust enough to hold her, but he’d have to get a change or two of clothes ready, shower, and go back to the Hayburger in the hopes that one of his coworkers would cover his Saturday shift. It wasn’t going to be easy, but he was going to bust his ass to get Leech back to her big, bubbly, bird-brained self.
As he’d expected, his evening was long and arduous. He wasn’t completely finished with all the preparations until nearly midnight, having gone so far as to go to one of his workmate’s houses to beg her to work in his place, and he practically passed out when he finally got to curl up in his bed. While he drifted off to sleep, it was all he could do to give a small, silent prayer that his little scheme would pay off.
“Hey…”
“Five more minutes…” he grumbled, rolling over and pulling the blanket over himself.
Gently jostled, he wearily turned his head and cracked an eye open. As impossible as it may have seemed, he’d apparently slept several hours over the span of what felt like mere minutes. Seeing a massive silhouette looming over the bed, recognizing the familiar voice, his eyes darted over to his clock.
In the dim, pre-dawn light, he grimaced. He’d intended to kick off the weekend by getting up early and surprising Leech with breakfast, yet she’d well and thoroughly turned the tables on him - moreover, she looked like she was already ready to go. For some damn reason, though he couldn’t fathom why, she was fully dressed in a pair of hiking shorts, boots, shirt, vest, and with a hiking pack strapped to her back.
“Come on,” she intoned, hitching a thumb toward the door. “If I’m gonna teach you how to get by outdoors, I’m gonna make sure you know what you’re doing.”
“I…” he faltered, taken aback by how serious she seemed to be taking what was supposed to be a lighthearted outing. “Just give me a few minutes…”
He swung his legs off the side of the bed, placed his feet on the floor, and watched her depart. Sleep-deprived and groggy though he was, he was stunned to see she’d managed to not only wake up before him but get herself prepared as well. With a heavy sigh, he glanced through his window at the darkness outside, pushed himself up, and shuffled to his closet. It was going to be a long, hopefully interesting day…
Getting dressed only took a few minutes, gathering the provisions he’d gathered took nearly half an hour, and the hike out of town lasted more than an hour. Though she’d mentioned Sunny Meadows by name, she’d led him in the opposite direction from the established campground. Trailing behind her, carrying the tent and a rucksack on his back, he plodded along behind her and through the underbrush.
“So - fuck -” he cursed, slowing to kick off a blackberry bramble clinging to his pant-leg. “Are we going anywhere in particular?”
Continuing onward, she readjusted the pack on her back. “Should be a stream ahead. You hear it?”
“Yeah,” he replied, only then picking up the sound of running water. “Believe it or not, I do know that finding water is important when you’re roughing it.”
“Water, shelter, and food,” she noted, lifting and extending three fingers. “If you don’t have all three, you’re going to be in a bad spot.”
Stepping over a fallen tree, she slowed and craned her neck upwards. He stopped just behind and beside her, following her gaze up at the canopy above them. The sun shone through a relatively bare patch overhead, illuminating a small patch of leaf-strewn earth around them. While he was far from an outdoorsman, only having camped in his backyard as a kid, he felt reasonably sure she’d found a nice spot for them to set up shop.
“Want me to pitch the tent here?” he asked, bringing his attention down to her face.
She shook her head and kept moving. “Widowmaker,” she remarked, pointing upward. “If that limb fell on us, we’d be in a bad spot.”
He hadn’t spotted it earlier, but she’d been right. A large brand from a dead tree was situated almost perfectly over the clearing he stood in. There was no guarantee that the thing would break anytime soon, although that could change with a driving wind or a hard rain. It was no mystery that Leech had spent a large portion of her life on her own, eking out an existence for herself by herself, yet seeing her fall back on her utilitarian skills was beyond impressive.
Rushing up behind her, he was pleased to discover that she found a suitable site only a few dozen yards away. She looked to him, nodded, and unslung the pack from her shoulders. Unlike her typically laid-back self, she seemed laser focused. Her eyes carefully scanned the area, her ears swiveled on her head, and she turned her snout up to sniff the air. The blithe mare he’d come to know was gone, replaced by what he could only describe as a keen-eyed adventurer.
“I’ll get us some firewood and check out that stream,” she muttered. She only made a single step before she stopped in her tracks and looked back at him. “Just...just call me if you need me ~ alright?”
“I will,” he grunted, already struggling with the bundle of tent poles. “Thanks, mom.”
Her expression softened, a genuine smile met her lips, and she gave him a subtle nod. She was still in there, the loving mare who’d been looking after him since he’d wound up in Equestria, and the sight of her warmed his heart. Waiting until she looked away, he put himself to task and began constructing what would be their shelter for the night.
Much to his shame, by the time he finally got the tent properly erected, Leech had ended up doing the lion’s share of the work. Leaves had been cleared from a large patch of earth, a fire pit had been erected, and she’d managed to find more than enough wood to keep a fire burning for a full night. He would have felt bad for not contributing much, if he hadn’t been so amazed by watching her in action.
“You pack food?” she inquired, easing herself onto a rock while rolling and rubbing one of her shoulders.
He pointed to his pack and grinned. “Packed some dried fruit, oats, and a bunch of jerky.”
Resting her elbows on her knees, she leaned forward toward him. “Here’s the big question ~” she chuckled, “would you rather eat what you brought or do you want to find our dinner with me?”
The question instantly threw him off guard. “I mean, I guess you can show me. Is there even edible stuff around her?”
She guffawed as she stood. “Honey, there’s plenty of goodies out here!” she exclaimed, sauntering over and draping an arm over his shoulders. “If we’re lucky, and I mean really lucky, we might just find something sweet for dessert.”
“It’s funny -” he weakly laughed, returning her gesture by wrapping an arm around her lower back, “I never thought I’d see this side of you.”
“I just hope you pay attention,” she wistfully responded, pulling him close. “I know it would probably never come to it - heck, I hope it doesn’t ever come to it, but you need to know how to look after yourself.”
Though her wistful tone threatened to shake his reverie, he doubled down. “Then show me.”
And with those three little words, she did exactly what she promised to do. Amazing couldn’t begin to describe the experience of creeping through the woodland with her. She pointed out all sorts of edible plants, a few types of mushrooms that could be eaten or used for tea, and a cornucopia of vegetation that could be used for all sorts of different things. Stopping to ask her questions about what they’d found, doing his best to drink it all in, he didn’t realize how late it was getting until the sun was well on its way to the horizon.
“We should probably get back and get a fire started,” she huffed, rinsing off some cattail roots and arrowroot they’d stumbled upon.
“Yeah,” he conceded, compelled by his grumbling stomach. “Plus you gotta show me how to cook this stuff.”
Getting her bearings, she rose to her full height, gathered her bearings, and strolled from the creekside they’d stopped at. “They’re basically like potatoes. Between these, those wild onions, and those fiddleheads, we’ll be eating good tonight.”
“And the s’mores,” he added, rushing to catch up with her. “Don’t forget the s'mores.”
“And the s’mores,” she giggled, smiling warmly down at him. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you want to come out here - I mean, why did you really want to come out here?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and timidly smirked. “I just wanted to spend some time with you.”
“Well you’ve got me all to yourself until Sunday,” she hummed, reaching over and tenderly wrapping her fingers around his wrist. “I’m just surprised you were able to find a tent and sleeping bags big enough for both of us - not that I’m complaining.”
He nearly stumbled over his own feet, her innocuous statement sending a chill up his spine. His mind raced, going over the supplies he’d packed for their expedition. The tent was set up, he was positive he’d brought enough food, clothes, and toiletries to last several days, and he’d even bought a little hatchet for their trip, but there was one thing he’d forgotten, something that was going to make their outing both awkward and considerably less comfortable, sleeping bags.
“B…by chance,” he sputtered, looking up at her, “with all this outdoor experience you have, you wouldn’t know how to make bedding ~ would you…?”
The good news was that Leech’s almost preternatural knowledge of bushcraft meant they’d have a bed of soft moss to rest on - the bad news was that they’d be sleeping much, much closer to one another than he’d anticipated. He actually wasn’t opposed to dozing off beside her, but that was the issue. Though he was still struggling with the concept, it was impossible for him to deny that his feelings for her had done nothing but grow stronger since he’d started living with her - a sentiment he suspected she mirrored for him.
“See,” she said through a mouthful of lightly roasted tuber, “perfectly edible!”
Shaken from his stupor, he peered over and up at her. “Don’t you want some salt or something to put on them?”
“You brought salt?!” she coughed, nearly choking on her bite of cattail root. He leaned over, dug around in his bag, and produced a salt shaker. “Man, I would’ve killed for a little spice rack when I was on the road.”
“Well you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he weakly laughed, skewering a steaming tuber from beside the fire.
Taking an experimental nibble from the arrowroot, he was pleasantly surprised by the slightly crunchy texture and subtle earthy flavor. While it wasn’t as good as a loaded baked potato, he could definitely see how someone would get by eating the things - that was if they could find a steady supply of them, of course. Waving down at the pan of sizzling fiddleheads, the young buds of a type of furn, he peaked a brow.
After swallowing his mouthful, he glanced up at her. “How long do these have to cook?”
“They shouldn’t take too long,” she remarked, motioning at the greens. “They can actually make you sick if they’re too mature - like when they uncurl, but those ones should be fine.”
“Huh,” he grunted, equally amused and fascinated by her know-how.
He couldn’t be happier with how the day was shaping up. Leech seemed to be in better spirits, being away from the hustle and bustle of the city was extremely refreshing, and he'd learned more useful stuff about nature in a single day than he had over the course of his entire life - still, there was something he needed to address. While the yoga incident hadn’t bothered him much at all, the same couldn’t be said for Leech.
Waiting for the right moment to speak with her, he finished up cooking the meal and ate beside her. He didn’t want to ruin their dinner with what may be a heavy discussion, so he waited until they’d finished up and began assembling their s’mores. There would be no right time to talk to her, so he summoned his courage, speared marshmallows on a pair of sticks he’d sharpened, and cleared his throat.
“Can I ask you something?” he began.
She shifted and looked over at him, smiling all the while. “Of course you can, honey! You don’t need my permission.”
Exhaling through pursed lips, he closed his eyes. “Have you been ok? Ever since we did yoga that Saturday morning nearly a month ago, you’ve been acting kinda off.”
He held his breath and waited, hoping she’d say something - anything, yet only the still silence of the forest, the crackling of the fire, and a soft breeze greeted his ears. It was with the utmost reluctance that he opened his eyes and looked up at her, though he ultimately wished he hadn’t. All mirth had fled from her, she bore an anguished look, and she gazed off into the darkness. Shifting the lengths of wood into his off hand, he reached out and touched her thigh.
She instantly recoiled and shifted her leg away from him, releasing a shuddering, uneasy breath as she hung her head. “You’re not going to let this go ~ are you?”
“You don’t have to answer,” he warily admitted, “but I would like to know what’s going on - if…if you’re comfortable talking about it.”
As she swept her gaze down to the fire, flickering amber and golden hues danced over her amethyst, cat-like eyes. “I…I haven’t always been the mare I am now.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” he endearingly clucked. “You have a house, food on your table, and -”
“No,” she cut him off, glowering. “When I was younger, I struggled with urges - urges that I regret and that still rear their ugly head from time to time.”
On the verge of replying, he kept his mouth shut. He’d always assumed she’d harbored some secret about her amorous side, having skirted the subject whenever it was even remotely broached, yet he couldn’t have fathomed it had been a source of torment for her. Inching closer to her, he offered one of the two marshmallow-laiden sticks.
“I think that’s something everyone struggles with at some point,” he murmured, peering down at the flames. “Almost everyone has a wild streak at some point or -”
“You don’t understand,” she huffed, pinching the bridge of her snout. “I’ve tried - sweet, merciful Celestia, I’ve tried to keep myself under control for so long. It’s just that…” she trailed off, her frustration eclipsed by anguish. “It’s just that I don’t want to drive you away or scare you off.”
It was at that moment that the pieces finally fell together. Her rare moments of being flustered, her naiveté, the crushing weight of her natural appeal - if what she was saying was true, and he had no reason to doubt it was anything otherwise, she was or at least had been a beast of carnal nature. Unsure of what to do, he took a gamble, extended his arm, and lovingly patted her thigh.
“For what it’s worth,” he faintly uttered, “I’ve been having a hard time behaving myself around you too…”
“Poor choice of wording,” she softly snickered.
Elbowing her side, causing her to peek down at him, he fought to frown. “You know what I mean.”
Though some tension hung in the air, it felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Everything she’d been doing, the sudden aloofness that she’d been adopted, wasn’t because he’d done anything wrong - it was because he may have inadvertently done something right. They may have had more differences than he could shake a stick at, ranging from their species and age to the way they’d grown up, but something was budding between them - something mutual.
Sitting mute, he tilted his head back and gazed up at the stars. “We should do this more often.”
“Awkwardly sit in the woods together?” she snorted, only just keeping herself from laughing.
Ignoring the small jab, he nodded to the heavens. “It’s not like this where I’m from - well not in most places; there are so many cities and factories that the light blinds out the night sky. Unless you go way, way out in the country, you can’t see the stars like this.”
“I still miss it sometimes -” she sighed, “not that I’d trade having a home and a stable life for it, but living on the road had its perks. I could go wherever I wanted whenever I wanted to, and there was nobody to hold me back.”
He glanced over at her. “I’m not holding you back ~ am I?”
Turning her eyes over to him, she shook her head. “No - no, honey, of course you’re not - if anything, I’m holding you back.”
“How?” he pressed, genuinely curious.
“You’re young, attractive, and kindhearted,” she mused, reaching out to brush his face. “It won’t be long until you find and run off with some cute little mare.”
“And…” he gulped, losing himself in her eyes. “And if I don’t…?”
She slowly leaned toward him, bringing her muzzle to within a hair’s breadth of his nose. Her eyes were like glittering gemstones, the warmth of her breath washed over his face, and her subtle but unmistakable scent caused his pulse to quicken. He’d spent more time than he cared to admit wondering exactly what they were to one another, especially as of late, and he was finding it harder and harder to shake her from his thoughts.
“If you don’t,” she breathed, the fingers of her hand drifting to the back of his head, “I guess that means you’ll have to put up with me…”
His mouth went dry, his heart pounded wildly, and his thoughts ran rampant. What few flaws she had were outweighed by her generosity, good nature, and stunning looks, he couldn’t have cared less about what she’d done in the past, and the prospect of being with her, not as a son but as something more, filled him with a longing like he’d never known. His fingers closed around her hand and tilted his head to the side.
“Well,” he quietly replied, “I guess we’ll just have to put up with each other until - Fuck!”
He shot back and scrambled to his feet, stricken with raw, unfettered panic. Their tent, supplies, and a small portion of leaves around them was ablaze, likely having caught fire by some errant ember. Leech followed suit moments later, yet she wasn’t paralyzed by the unforeseen and chaotic development. Leaping into action, she flung her bag away from the small inferno and began stomping out the blaze.
Doing what he could to help her, trying and failing to save the tent and most of their provisions, he threw what water they’d gathered on the fire before resorting to kicking dirt on the conflagration. Though they were lucky enough to put out the blaze in a matter of minutes, their little camp had been devastated. The tent was gone, reduced to singed metal rods and molten polyester, the bags of pre-packaged food were torched, and not a single marshmallow had been spared from destruction.
“Damn it,” he raged. “Mom, I’m so, so…”
He fell silent as she broke into loud, raucous laughter, bending over while wiping her face. Considering she was just as screwed as he was, he’d expected to see her angry - instead, it sure as hell looked like she’d lost her marbles! Wiping a tear from her cheek, giggling and snorting like a kid who’d just heard a really raunchy fart joke, she struggled to stand up straight.
“It’s so much funnier when it happens to someone else,” she shakily noted, tittering as she spoke.
“I’m - um - guessing this has happened to you before?” he grumbled nonplussed.
Lumbering over to him, she patted his shoulder. “More than a few times, yeah, but I’ll tell you about them in a bit. Here - take my hand.”
Without questioning her, blindly fumbling for her hand in the darkness, he did as she asked. “What are we going to do?”
“We’re going to go to one of my old haunts,” she answered, guiding him forward before stopping to pick up her pack. “There’s a little bridge not far from here that I used to hide out under when the weather was bad. As long as we don’t make enough noise to have the royal guards called on us, we should be able to sleep there for tonight.”
Cautiously placing one foot in front of the other, unable to see a damn thing, he furrowed his brow in the gloom. “So we’re going to camp under a bridge, in the dark, without any way to stay warm - perfect.”
“Ah ah -” she tutted. “We might end up under a bridge, but we won’t be getting too cold. Packed dirt might not be the easiest thing to relax on, but it’s better than rock. Your mom might not be a spring chicken, but she’s got a few tricks up her sleeve.”
The harrowing journey felt like it took forever, although in actuality it probably lasted no longer than ten minutes or so. Emerging from the woods and into a field, under the cloudless night sky, he spotted a little bridge in the distance. He held her hand and continued along beside her, immeasurably thankful that he could finally see where he was going.
“And you said you used to come here?” he inquired.
“Oh yeah, more times than I can count,” she responded. “You might not believe it, but I used to have a little shelter built under that thing. It might not have been as good as a room at the Mareiotte hotel, but it kept me dry, safe, and relatively warm.”
After crossing through the patch of grassland, she stooped down and moved under the arched cobblestone bridge. Though it was hard for him to make out much of anything, he realized how right she’d been. Two earth berms shielded the underpass from wind, the stonework overhead would protect them from any rain, and the stream lay a dozen paces from the abutment.
She released his arm, stepped over to the wall anchoring one side of the bridge, and turned to face him as she sat. “About staying warm…”
He’d heard that sharing body heat with someone was a good way to keep from getting cold, yet the conversation they’d just had, paired with the fact that he’d almost kissed her, gave him a moment for pause. “Couldn’t we start another fire?”
“We could make a little one,” she groaned, “but someone might notice the smoke and come to investigate. I’m not sure about you, but I’d rather not explain why a grown mare and her little man are hunkered under a bridge on the outside of town.”
Groaning and rolling his eyes, he rubbed his temples. “If you’re going to keep calling me your little man, I’m going to start calling you my big mare.”
She kicked her legs out, spread them, and patted the earth between her thighs. “I’m gonna hold you to that. Now come over here and get comfy.”
He’d only said what he’d said as a joke, hoping she’d take offense at his emphasis of calling her his big mare, but the jab had blown up in his face. Defeatedly shuffling over and wheeling around, he eased himself down and rested his back against her. Without a care in the world, her breasts sandwiching his head, she pulled a second, smaller blanket from her bag and threw it over them.
Her soft, downy coat and the heat radiating from her were staggeringly comfortable - so comfortable that he found himself stifling a yawn. She folded her arms around him, holding him close while she placed her chin on his head. All his worry about her, fearing that some schism had started to develop between them, evaporated with her embrace.
“Mom…” he whispered.
Pulling the blanket tighter, she adjusted her positioning. “Yeah?”
“About what you said before,” he muttered, lovingly rubbing her forearms. He waited a moment, collecting himself while listening to her deep, steady breaths. “I wanted to tell you that I’ll never leave you…”
Anticipating some sort of pithy reply, he got anything but. The steady rise and fall of her chest and lack of response told him that she must have dozed off, but he wasn’t upset - in a way, he was a bit relieved. He cared for her more than anyone in Equestria - hell, she meant more to him than most people back on Earth, so it may have been for the best that she’d gone to sleep. Closing his eyes, he drifted off in her embrace. What the future held for them was a mystery, but he was sure of one thing - so long as he was with her, he’d be happy…
