Anything but Cold and Clammy
“Thanks again,” Anon shouted, waving to the departing stallion.
Though he’d taken enough time off to spend an entire week in Canterlot, he’d departed the day following the depravity that Spoiled rich had lured him to. It wasn’t like he was opposed to having a roll in the hay - for fuck’s sake, he’d had more in the last few months than he could count, but being roped into an exhibitionistic sex-show, followed by a wanton orgy that would make a whore blush, was a line he’d had no plan on crossing. He’d left the capital as soon as he could, forgoing his train ticket back to Ponyville, and had been fortunate enough to find a farmer going out of town with an unladen cart.
The good news was that the stallion he’d run into had been happy enough to give him a ride - the bad news was that he’d effectively been dropped off in the middle of nowhere. While he’d be the first to admit that impulsively fleeing Canterlot wasn’t the wisest decision, not for the least of which reasons being he’d only brought a few bits with him, there was no way in Tartarus he was going to end up being the lewd plaything for a bunch of aristocrats a second time. Like the old saying goes, ‘fool me once, shame on you - fool me twice, you won’t fool me again’.
He scratched his chin as he turned and looked up at a weather-beaten sign beside the intersection of the dusty road upon which he stood. If his memory served him correctly, all he had to do was keep heading south until he reached Ponyville, but there was a small problem. The trip would take several hours by train - on foot, he’d probably end up walking for a day or better.
With his suitcase over one shoulder, he turned and started on his way. In more ways than one, he was pretty lucky. The day was absolutely stunning, the cool air refreshing and the sun shining brightly overhead, and he could use the exercise from the protracted hike. Barring the appearance of some predatory creature, something that was made all the more implausible with the open fields around him, he didn’t have anything other than sore feet to worry about.
It was moments like these, strolling through the countryside, that reminded him of just how beautiful Equestria was. There were places on Earth that were untouched and pristine, although that was the norm for his new homeland. Most of the cities he’d been to were small, there were plenty of wide open spaces, and virtually everypony was as pleasant as could be, making it easy to forget about the stresses of his old life.
As his mind wandered back to his inn in Ponyville and the lecherous path he’d unwittingly found himself stumbling down, a sigh escaped him. He’d never had grand aspirations, merely wanting a quiet, comfortable life, yet fate had hit him with one curve-ball after another. In addition to continuing to somehow wind up in all sorts of lewd situations, Eris had imbued him with the ability to knock up any creature he bedded.
He knew there were no strings attached to any foals he may or may not have sired thus far, but that gave him little comfort. Things would have been different if he’d known he could have a child with an Equestrian, allowing him to find his special somepony and settle down with his little family - sadly, that hadn’t been the case. While he was supremely proud of his inn and the niche he’d carved for himself, he’d been giving more and more thought to giving it all up and starting fresh somewhere else.
It was a tough decision to come to; abandoning Ponyville would mean leaving the friends he’d made and the familiarity of the town that had taken him in, but staying may well be worse. Hanging his head, he grimaced. Regardless of what he did, it felt like he’d been granted a wish from a monkey’s paw - sure, he was practically drowning in pussy, but he’d come to realize that sex wasn’t everything.
The corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly as the memory of Stellar Flare insidiously crept into his thoughts, making him scowl and shake his head. What the hell was wrong with him? In spite of his higher self longing for a simple life, one where he hadn’t effectively become a prostitute and stud for hire, his primal id had other ideas. Like it or not, a part of him liked all the slatternly attention he was getting.
While his perverse proclivities warred with the more reasonable side of himself, he looked up as a shadow fell over him. Though the weather had been decent when he’d departed Canterlot, things had taken a turn. Unlike on mountains, the plains around the capital were subject to storms which could roll in seemingly from nowhere. He cursed, watching as a thick bank of clouds moved in his direction.
Fan-fucking-tastic - if he didn’t find shelter and quickly, his trek back to Ponyville was going to become decidedly less pleasant than it could have been. Turning his head from side to side, already resigning himself to getting an impromptu and unwanted shower, he spotted something in the distance. Whatever he was looking at wasn’t a tree, nor was it a house, but it was big enough to maybe, just maybe let him get out of the oncoming rain.
His pace hastened into a jog, then a full-blown sprint when an ominous rumble of thunder split through the air. Damned if he knew what he was headed towards, although it was certainly better than nothing. He stumbled as he took a bad step, his foot impacting against a rock lodged in the path, and fell face first to the earth.
Only barely keeping himself from eating dirt, throwing his hands out to catch himself, his quick save came at a cost. Thrown ahead of him, lost when he took the tumble, his suitcase bounced once and sprang open. Ending up with scraped palms and a banged knee would have been enough to sully his mood in and of themselves, but seeing his clothes strewn out on the ground really put a damper on his spirits. Seriously ~ would it be too much to ask to catch a fucking break already?!
It didn’t take him long to gather his things and run to what he discovered was a covered wagon, but the problem was that he couldn’t see anypony in or around the thing. Ordinarily speaking, he would never even consider trespassing or fucking with someone’s stuff - unfortunately, as the first drops of rain hit his head, he wasn’t given many options. Crawling in and under the canvas, he kept his fingers crossed that he wasn’t going to get into too much trouble for the minor transgression.
Were it not for its condition, a bedroll, and a basket of provisions, he could have sworn the wagon had been abandoned. He wasn’t sure who owned the cart, where they’d gone, or why they’d just left it sitting on the side of the road, but he was immeasurably thankful for the shelter - even if it was temporary. As he rested his suitcase down and shifted in place, doing what he could to make himself comfortable in the relatively cramped confines, he hissed when his knee rubbed against the wood beneath him.
It was ironic - he’d gone to Canterlot hoping for a little vacation, a change of scenery and a departure from the norm, and he’d gotten his wish in a less than pleasant way. He closed his eyes and leaned back, stretching his legs as much as he could while listening to the water pitter-pattering on the thick material above him. There were a number of things he could have used at the moment, not the least of which being some bandage and a stiff drink, although those would have to wait until he got home.
Minutes of tranquil silence passed, easing his mind and helping him relax, until the sound of rapidly approaching hooves caused him to turn. There was a chance that somepony was just rushing by, galloping down the road on their way to heaven knows where, yet that seemed unlikely. Looking to the open end of the wagon and the squall outside, he stiffened when a figure peeked into view.
With a smoky green mane and pewter coat, the pony started to scramble into the wagon, spotted him, and froze. She didn’t look much different than most mares, outside of being soaked, having a pair of golden spectacles perched on her snout, and a soggy shawl around her neck, although her wide, arctic eyes were particularly striking. She stood and studied him, leaving her lower half wholly exposed to the elements.
“Sorry,” he softly stated, lifting his hands to show he was no threat. “I was talking and -”
“You’re injured,” she noted, cutting him off and looking at his right palm.
He turned and glanced to his hand, seeing the barest hint of blood from when he’d fallen, and faintly smiled. “It’s fine. Like I was saying, this was the only place around here to get out of the rain,” he explained, tapping his foot to the wooden floorboards. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“‘Tis fine,” she responded, hauling herself into the cart. “I would have invited you in forthwith, were I here when you arrived, although I was getting a souvenir for my daughter.”
Watching her sit and lift a forehoof to display a rock, he cocked his head. “That’s - um - a unique gift.”
“I shall admit, my daughter’s passion for geology is a bit odd, but I digress,” she sighed.
Undoing her mane, which had been done up in a neat bun, she shook out her dampened hair before removing her shawl. Her comment about a daughter lent weight to his suspicion that she was a bit older, what with her cool demeanor and her state of dress, but it would have been impossible for him to guess her age. Glancing down her chest and to her abdomen, he spotted her bosoms and quickly turned away.
Wringing the water out from her mane, she looked him up and down. “Prithee, what is your name?”
“Oh - uh - I’m Anon,” he answered, extending an arm toward her.
She took his hand in her forehoof and gave it a firm shake without the slightest bit of hesitation. “‘Tis a pleasure to meet you, Anon. I’m Cloudy Quartz.”
“Pleasure,” he breathed, taken aback by her grip.
It was no mystery that earth ponies, like his newfound associate-made-host, were incredibly strong and robust, but he had to figure he wasn’t dealing with any ordinary mare. Her attire and antiquated way of speaking, as well as the fact that she was evidently out by herself, spoke of a pony who was practical and exceptionally hard working. Pushing herself up and trotting past him, something he couldn’t easily do given his size, she flipped open a compartment in the floor and grabbed a towel.
“Here,” she stated. “‘Twould be wise if you dry yourself off, lest you risk catching a cold.”
Though the ambient temperature wasn’t unpleasant, she made a good point. Between the breeze cutting through the wagon and his wetted clothes, he could already feel a chill setting in - still, stripping down in front of somepony he’d only just met, and a mare no less, didn’t feel right. Pushing away the proffered towel, he shook his head.
As her brow knit, his smile waned. “I appreciate it, but you should dry yourself first.”
“As much as I appreciate the chivalrous gesture, ‘tis foolish for you to stay garbed in such a state,” she flatly retorted. Tentatively withdrawing her foreleg after a moment, she started wiping herself down. “And what praytell brings you out to these parts?”
“A mistake,” he sighed, hanging his head. “I traveled to Canterlot hoping to have a bit of fun, but my plans blew up in my face.”
“Not literally, I should hope,” she clucked.
Peering over at her, seeing the slightest trace of a wry smirk on her muzzle, he chuckled. “No, not literally. What about you? Are you out here by yourself?”
She nodded as she ran the towel over her head. “I am. Like yourself, I’m actually on my way from the capital.”
“For business?” he openly guessed.
“Just so,” she coolly replied. “Selling minerals and crystals to the nobility can be quite lucrative, though the journey to Canterlot can be a bit onerous.”
Looking around himself, only then noticing the dust and small bits of gravel scattered to the corners of the cart, he pursed his lips. “So you hauled this by yourself?”
“I did ~” she affirmed, “why?”
“It’s just that - well, wasn’t that sort of hard?” he inquired.
He had no way of knowing just how far she’d come, but pulling a cart laden with stones, precious or otherwise, would be no easy task for anyone. As impressed as he was with her, he felt a bit bad that she hadn’t had any help for something so difficult. It was wrong to expect a mare to toil by her lonesome, especially one who was slipping past her prime.
Reaching up to one of the bows above her, she pawed at a string, pulled it taut, and lashed it to the opposite side of the wagon. “Tis, but all good things in life come with some difficulty.”
“Fair enough,” he conceded as she hung the towel up to dry.
Her remark, while innocuous, brought his thoughts back to the myriad of issues he’d been dealing with. He’d bet his bottom bit that things wouldn’t change for him unless he made them change, turning away prospective, passionate patrons and keeping his business exclusively family friendly. It may be hard for him to stay on the straight and narrow, if he was able to clean himself and his reputation up, but that may be his best shot to finding some inner peace.
As she faced him, her expression hardened. “Something troubles you.”
He nodded and gave a doleful laugh. “Yeah, but don’t sweat it.”
Undeterred, she stepped forward and gingerly placed a forehoof on his shoulder. “I’d be remiss for not asking if I could help.”
Taking a breath and exhaling slowly, he closed his eyes. He really didn’t want to burden her with his problems, problems he only had himself to blame for, but she didn’t strike him as the sort who’d back down easily - that and he was sitting in her wagon. Forcing a smile, he patted her foreleg.
“I swear this will make sense,” he began, “but I have to ask a question first. Are you married?”
She withdrew her leg and adjusted her glasses. “Happily.”
“Got any advice for a guy who’s done sowing his wild oats?” he asked. Noticing her scrunch her snout, hopefully in thought and not out of contempt, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, it was dumb of me to -”
“The pairing stone may be able to help,” she interrupted. “Not far from my home, there’s a boulder that can help one find their destined lover. The blessed stone foretold my husband and I’s betrothal, so I see no reason why it wouldn’t do the same for you. Should you like, I could bring you to it and show you how to enact the ritual.”
He balked and went wide-eyed, stunned that she succinctly offered him a solution for his dilemma and willing to give him aid. Whether this pairing stone was really able to do anything, or if it was just a local legend was anyone’s guess, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t worth a shot - shit, after all the crazy stuff he’d seen and been through, a magical rock that could somehow help him find true love wouldn’t be the wildest thing in the world. Feeling cautiously optimistic, he smiled all the broader as she grinned.
“I’d…I’d actually like that,” he hummed. “Thank you.”
Giving a small bow, she flipped her mane away from her face. “Think nothing of it, though I am curious as to why you’d struggle with romantic affairs.”
“Why would you say that?” he countered, genuinely curious.
“Aside from being young and I presume healthy, you come across as being a decent fellow,” she observed, fetching a second towel from her stash.
Suppressing a shiver as a gust of wind played over him, he tentatively leaned forward and removed his shirt. Her congenial nature, paired with the fact that she had a husband, made him feel slightly more comfortable about taking off his damp clothes. She paid him little mind as she trotted to the end of the wagon and passed him the cloth to dry himself.
Undoing the rolled flaps and closing them, sparing them from the wind, she glanced back at him. “Forgive the impertinence, but what manner of creature are you?”
“Human,” he grunted, adding his shirt to the makeshift clothesline.
“I’d assumed such, but I did not want to be rude,” she said softly, turn toward him. “Are all humans like yourself?”
He shrugged, having grown used to such questions long ago. “Mostly, yeah. We all walk on two legs, have two arms,” he paused, reaching out and wiggling his fingers, “and we’re all more or less built the same, but our hair, eyes, and skin color varies.”
Crossing to him, she extended a foreleg and caressed his bicep. “An impressive build, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“Not as impressive as it could be,” he clucked, flexing his arm. “I’ve been telling myself for ages that I should get in shape…”
“I can sympathize,” she murmured, peeking at her flank. “Though the farm keeps me in decent health, the years haven’t been kind.”
As he reared back, his mirth faced. “You look fine to me - in fact, I’d say most mares would be more than happy with a body like yours.”
With the faintest hint of redness creeping into her cheeks, she dismissively batted a hoof. “You jest.”
“Seriously,” he insisted. “Not to sound creepy or anything, but I think you look fantastic.”
Her eyes drifted up his arm, across his shoulders, and down to his bare chest. “I suppose I could say the same for you.”
Noticing a subtle movement, he shifted his focus and stiffened. Her tail twitched and flagged ever so slightly, rising over her sculpted rear. His instincts, honed from over a year of dealing with lustful creatures of all kinds, started screaming at him and forced him to avert his gaze. For some reason or another, despite having just said she was happily married, it appeared as though Cloudy was a bit more stimulated than he would have liked.
Heedless or uncaring of how tense he’d become, she shuffled to the side and drew her hoof to his pecs. “You’re so smooth…”
This wasn’t good - this wasn’t good at all. Gingerly taking her by the foreleg, he glowered when he tried to pull her hoof away - tried in that she adamantly kept her frog on him. “I’m not sure your husband would -”
“Igneous wouldn’t mind,” she tutted, glancing at his groin.
“B…but…” he sputtered, gripped with a sudden panic.
Lifting her head, she locked eyes with him. “If it’s any consolation, he’s aware that I have marish needs - marish needs that, unfortunately for the both of us, he struggles to fulfill.”
He broke into a cold sweat, irrespective of the blood rushing to his loins, and swallowed hard. “S…so you’re swingers?”
“In a sense,” she flippantly mused. “On the rare occasions when I travel, I use the opportunity to get a bit of relief for myself.”
The literal intersection he’d been at earlier paled in comparison to the crossroad he was now confronted with. Not only would excusing himself be impolite to the nth degree, particularly since she’d offered to guide him to some enchanted piece of terra firma, but he’d get drenched and be positively miserable slogging through mud for what would likely be until well after dark. Stuck at an impasse, he made a second, equally fruitless attempt to stay her hoof.
She smirked and fought against him, gliding her hoof lower to his abs. “You are pretty strong. I should say that any mare lucky enough to catch your fancy would be quite lucky when it came to intimacy.”
“Thanks?” he warily croaked. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather we not -”
“You said yourself that you’ve sown some wild oats in your day,” she clucked, shaking his hand free and shying back. “Surely having one more roll in the hay would do you no harm.”
His manhood twitched within his underwear, roused from its slumber by the prospect of another conquest. Seriously, was this some sort of curse or something? Everywhere he turned, no matter where he went, creatures flung themselves at him for some amorous action. Moments from offering a rebuttal, a final effort to convince her that she didn’t want to get busy in the back of a wagon, he blinked as she spun around.
“For the record, this isn’t wholly your fault,” she groused, unabashedly displaying her sopping wet, winking marehood. “Had I found a stud who could indulge me in Canterlot, I wouldn’t be nearly as passionate as I am currently.”
While hearing that she’d been unsuccessful at getting a dicking on her outing was a mitigating factor, he was no less ill at ease about plowing a married mare. He doubted she’d force herself upon him, although it was clear as fucking crystal that she wanted to sample his goods. Grappling with how she’d gone from sweet and reserved to downright lecherous, unsure of if she’d been hiding her urges from the get-go, he was hit with an idea.
“Wholly my fault,” he repeated, tearing his eyes off her snatch to look at her face. “Are you in -”
“Estrus, yes,” she grunted, “and it’s a bad one. On any other day, I wouldn’t be as forward with somepony I just met.”
Sagely nodding, he halfheartedly brought one hand to his waistband. Seeing as how she had no reason to lie to him about her relationship, and the fact that she was leaking nectar like a broken faucet, he was inclined to throw in the towel and give her what she wanted. Fuck it - like she’d just said, it wouldn’t hurt anything to add one more notch to his belt ~ right?
“Alright,” he muttered while he unbuttoned his pants and pulled at his fly. “It’s not like we have much room to work with, but -”
“Goodness gracious,” she gasped as his cock sprang free.
“I know, I know,” he groaned, “it’s not like a stallionhood.”
She straightened up and shuffled closer, enthralled by his tool. “It’s not, but I’m amazed all the same. By chance, would you mind if I…”
As she leaned in and brought her muzzle to his crotch, turned he slid back, extended his legs, and did what he could to make himself comfortable. “Go nuts.”
Though he’d been through it dozens, if not hundreds of times before, the sight of someone eager to fawn over his naughty bits was electrifying. Lowering herself to the floor, she draped herself over his thigh and brought her snout to his nethers. The sensation of her breath washing over his dick made the corners of his lips turn up.
“You smell nice,” she purred, pressing her nose to the base of his length.
He peaked a brow and peered down at her. “Oh?”
“Mmmhmm,” she hummed. “It’s hard to put my hoof on it, but your scent is exotic.”
Pondering her admission, he reached out and ran his fingers through her mane. One of these days, he really needed to pin down exactly what was so bewitching about him. Was it the size and shape of his cock? Could his natural bouquet be appealing in some way? Did not having fur or a thick hide tickle Equestrians’ fancy? In the end, he couldn’t say - regardless, they were questions for a later time.
She lifted her head and dragged her tongue up the underside of his length, keeping her eyes on him all the while. Older mares came with a number of benefits; they knew what they wanted, rarely minced words, and had a certain grace that came with age, but their best feature was the experience they wielded. Excluding those who were prudish, seasoned females were intimately familiar and comfortable with pleasing a lover.
Reaching the tip of his length, she opened her muzzle, extended her tongue, and dipped her head. The warmth of her snout contrasted sharply with the cool air, making it difficult for him to contain himself. Wrestling with the idea of bucking his hips and driving his shaft down her gullet, he wrapped his fingers around the back of her head.
Cloudy paused and lifted one forehoof. For a fleeting instant, he thought he may have transgressed, that his touch was unwanted, but he was mistaken. Instead of pushing his arm away, she grabbed his wrist, held his hand in place, and hilted his cock in her maw. Her snug throat and heavily-lidded eyes fanned the flames of his desires, all but forcing him to act.
With his feet planted on the adjacent wall of the wagon, he thrust into her face. She winced slightly, her eyes watering as a muted gag escaped her, yet she made no attempt to flee - on the contrary, she doubled down. Putting her tongue to work, she slowly and deliberately pulled back and started sucking him off in perfect.
Her pouting lips, the very same lips that spoke so properly, mopped saliva and pre-cum from his shaft as her gullet spasmed around him. Lifting her lower half slowly, she proudly displayed her rump. He would have been happy with merely getting a blowjob, but she apparently wasn’t one to forego a bit of showmareship.
All things considered, between her impeccable technique and incredible body, she was making him second-guess his decision to forsake his slatternly lifestyle. If, and that was a very big if, he was going to lock himself in a monogamous relationship, whoever or whatever he decided to court would need to be something beyond the pale. Moving in tune with Cloudy, slightly envious that she was already taken, he watched as she slipped a forehoof back to get herself off.
The knowledge that she enjoyed swabbing her throat dealt a crushing blow to his reservations for getting frisky with her. Setting his jaw, he wrenched her head forward and ground his crotch against her nose. He’d held himself back with her, not wanting to disrupt her marriage or show exactly why he’d made an unceremonious name for himself, but now it was time for him to show his true colors - or so he thought.
After several minutes of ravaging her throat, he relented and relaxed his grip. She shot back in an instant, leaving a strand of saliva connecting her to his cock, before licking her lips and wolfishly grinning. The downright predatory look she bore was nothing short of provocative, getting him more riled up than he already was, as she steadily turned away from him.
“Don’t be upset if your hips are a bit sore in the morning,” she cooed, stepping back and over his legs.
Caressing her thighs, realizing what was coming, he beamed. “Says the mare who may be walking funny for the next day or two.”
“We’ll see about that,” she whispered, squatting down and nonchalantly impaling herself. Seated on his lap, she reclined and pressed her back to his chest. “Care to do the honors?”
“Gladly,” he huffed.
Plowing a mare in the back of a cart wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but the disparity of their sizes made it manageable enough. Cradling her ass in his hands, he lifted her while rolling his hips back. She might have been on the coldly dominant side, but that meant nothing when he could fuck her like a sex-toy.
Immobilized though she was, Cloudy still had much to give. Leaning her head back against his shoulder, she hotly breathed and groaned into his ear while she rhythmically clenched her marehood around him. Her fragrance, the sounds she made, the sensation of her depths coiling around him - all told, she left nothing to be desired.
Heaven help her if they’d had an actual bed available, but he had to make due with the cramped confines of her wagon. Snaking one hand around her waist and between her thighs, he blindly kneaded her sex and massaged her clit. The additional stimulation was enough to make her writhe with bliss, giving her what she so desperately craved.
He had her on the ropes, even if she didn’t realize it, and he had no intention of easing up. This was her fault, she was the one who’d tempted him to act - bearing that in mind, he stroked her with two fingers and altered the angle of his thrusts. The vice-like grip of her marehood and the way she milked him were phenomenal, easily able to contend with the best lays he’d ever had, yet it was her rapture that he truly savored.
It didn’t take her long to climax, whimpering and gushing nectar over his upper legs and groin. Railing her harder than ever, emboldened by her release, he kissed her cheek and hastened his pace. It wasn’t a matter of if he could give her another orgasm - no, it was a matter of how many times he could make her cum.
Succumbing to his bestial urges, he pulled out all the stops. As the seconds gradually slipped by, bleeding into one another, a familiar sensation welled up within him. Clenching his teeth and clamping his eyes closed, he staved off his inevitable release for as long as he could - that was until Cloudy pulled another trick from her nonexistent sleeve.
Be it from dumb luck or her noticing how close he was, she twisted her head and locked lips with him. The impassioned gesture was the final nail in his coffin, shattering his resolve and casting him into the oblivion of ecstasy. Slamming her down and fully hilting her, he drove his tongue into her muzzle while shot after shot seed flowed through his throbbing shaft.
Growing still, he basked in the euphoria of his hard-earned climax. Whether or not the mystical rock she spoke of would actually do anything was a mystery, though that mattered little in the grand scheme of things. If nothing else, he was able to meet an amazing new somepony - yeah, she might have thrown his notion of settling down into question, but at least they’d enjoyed themselves while staying relatively dry.
“O…on the morrow, I’ll - Cough - bring you to the farm and show you to the pairing stone,” she wheezed.
Glancing to the end of the cart and seeing that the rain was easing up, he pecked her cheek. “There is still plenty of daylight…”
She gave him another little kiss on the lips and reached back to rub his arm. “I know, but there’s no point in rushing things.”
Giving her tush a small, affectionate squeeze, he smirked. He still had some time before he was expected back at his inn, and it wasn’t like he had anything better to do, so he was inclined to relish her company while it lasted. Rolling to his side and carrying her with him, he buried his face in her mane and gave a contented sigh. At the very least, he’d have some company on his journey…