"They'd sing songs about us, ah'm sure," he added.

Sophia beckoned him forth with a wave. "C'mon. I owe ya a quick nip of my private stock." She caught him pawing at the ground slightly before acquiescing to her offer. This time she couldn't stop the chuckle escaping her lips. The stallion reminded her of the fresh meat she experienced on the occasional dalliance. Not to say he was a virgin in any sense of the term, and that immediate thought made her mind conjure several strange images, but the situation itself was wholly new ground for both of them, she was sure. That quiet from before had turned into a nervous excitement.

"Got anythang good?" he asked as he followed her over to the elevator. He stopped and sniffed the air.

"I don't know what that smell is either. As for my booze, I got one hell of a bender's worth." Perhaps it was the earlier kiss, or the slow but steadily increasing rapport, or maybe just a burst of hormones shot right into her spine; the excitement was still getting to her.

Sophia cracked her fist against the seventh floor button and the doors closed. Posters advertising a variety of locales and events plastered the inside stainless steel. An old poster advertising concert tickets to a Brazilian pop idol was stuck on the opposite wall of the doors. She took note that the supposed concert was advertised to start last year.

There was a slight tension in the air as the elevator hummed. Big Mac's eyes were wide, watching his surroundings with care. Rustic indeed; this was probably his first time in an elevator. That was not the issue for Sophia. What eagerness that leaked through the stallion's careful mask had infected her as well. That habit of rubbing her left arm was back.

Distracted as he was, she took a moment to observe her companion with a finer eye for detail. His fetlocks were unshorn, although carried the sign of being cut recently, no doubt in order to make a cleaner impression on humanity. However ponies got to Earth, at least they did their research or asked the proper person. An image of Rarity holding a tea party next to a full-sized dragon made her smile, before making her feel slightly terrified at the thought that there was a fair chance that could have happened.

His saddlebags were wrapped tight around his powerful body. Hard, well-developed muscles stretched across his back and wide barrel. His shaggy blond mane also showed the signs of recent care, but was marred with sweat and flecks of grime gained from some bustling city. His crimson fur was sporadically dotted with damp patches of sweat.

What caught her attention most was that familiar smell. It wasn't nearly as strong in the open metro compartment or the city streets, but in the cramped quarters of a tiny elevator, it was impossible to not take in a heady mixture of sweat and earth, along with something herbal that might be homemade soap.

Unfortunately, her visual grope, no matter how appreciative, lingered longer than what was usually considered polite or discreet; she was caught by Big Mac as he in turn examined the posters, catching her staring in the process. She looked away quickly, her hands clasping together near the small of her back.

"So... staying in Seattle long?" she asked to kill the awkwardness.

She looked on, concerned, as for the first time this evening, Big Mac's face fell. He recovered, straightening his stance, but the image was still burned there in her head. "No, ma'am. We head out tomorrow."

'Well, shit.' It made her wonder why Soarin had bothered inviting her to their hotel room if they checked out tomorrow morning. She felt the urge to grasp the bridge of her nose in embarrassment; she had just invited Big Mac up to her room based on Soarin's offer and Big Mac's rising interest in her. And now he'd likely have to leave before the hangover even started.

"Place is mighty cramped," he commented. He must have realized he touched a nerve with his last comment.

Sophia waved it off before he even had a chance to start. "It's nothin'. I really don't need much more than a bug-out bag to be comfortable. Suppose ponies gotta have their space?"

He nodded sagely. "Eeyup. Little ones especially. Being cooped up makes them and most ponies get cabin fever. 's in our blood to run."

"Ah, don't worry about it," she said dismissively, waving her hand. "I've got enough space, especially because I don't got much crap to begin with. I've learned to live light. Plus, maneuvering around in small spaces can be pretty handy at times. I'm pretty flexible when I need to be."

The look of dawning comprehension on his face was utterly priceless. "Ha ha ha ha ha! Oh god, teasing you never gets old." Big Mac flushed a deeper crimson, if that was possible.

Sophia's eyes returned to the digital floor counter above the door. Is was blinking rapidly, a chronic sign of something faulty that probably wasn't going to get fixed for a good year after it stopped working altogether. The number hung at five and well on its way to six.

"Do me a favor, big boy, can you back up behind me?" She motioned for him to hug the wall behind her, out of line of sight of the door. It was late, and she didn't expect many people to be haunting the apartment corridors at this time, but those instincts were back. Renton wasn't the worst place for metahumans to be, but it wasn't the best either. She didn't want to press her already generous luck.

Big Mac dutifully complied after a brief look. She knew that look. She had it on herself many times, as had Gunny when she or he was about to start trouble. The door opened with a hiss. There was indeed someone in the hallway, a man in his late forties holding a cardboard box under one arm. He turned his head, looking at her with bleary watery-blue eyes before promptly ignoring her and entering his room.

"Coast is clear, big boy. Time to bite the bullet." She stepped into the hallway before jumping with an "Eep!" She turned on Big Mac, who was smirking slightly.

"Sorry, thought you said bite somethang else," he said before falling in place behind her.

She could only shake her head, the love bite to her rear still burning pleasantly. "Oh, you are a bad boy."

The two of them sniggered playfully as she led them to door with the numbers 727 printed on the door. Fetching a keycard from her bag, she swiped it across the scanner to the left of the door and hurried Big Mac in after one last scan of the hallway.

The size of her living quarters wasn't something she had exaggerated to any degree. A small, shelved hallway opened up to a living room already filled with magazines and bits of clothing, leading to a mildly embarrassing moment where she had to clear her previous night's clothes off the sofa. That in and of itself wasn't so bad, except her bra and panties topped the pile. Scattered bits of electronics and other mechanical devices shoved in random corners, some of which Big Mac eyed with intrigue, but likely didn't know anything about. In fact, random junk, from a small stack of hard drives nestled next to the couch to a half-formed hodgepodge of circuitry in the shape of a human arm hanging in a pile below the window largely outweighed how much furniture she owned.

It was fairly spartan, with little more than an oversized vinyl chair and loveseat, a coffee table piled with magazines and a disassembled cyberdeck, and moderately-sized holovid hanging on the side wall. The far wall was a large window covered by blinds that let in the dim glow of the Seattle cityscape. Tucked in the far right was a narrow hallway which led to her kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom.

"It's not much, but it's home. Now sit down, ya perv." She rubbed the spot where he had bit her. It didn't hurt, but it had certainly caught her by surprise. Well, if they were playing that game, she made extra sure to sashay her hips back and forth a little more as she entered the kitchen. There wasn't much in terms of counter space that hadn't already been taken over by crap, but finding an empty glass jar, she plucked Soarin's feather from her ear and deposited it in its confines.

She opened the dishwasher and pulled out three non empty bottles and a pair of glasses. Big Mac, sitting on the pleather loveseat, watched her with blatant incredulity. "Ah live in the country and've been called backwards plenty 'o times. 's first time ah've seen some shine stored in the dishwasher."

"Pfft," she hissed. "Bitch please, you don't even wear clothes other than them saddlebags." She set down the glasses and bottles on the table as Big Mac removed his saddlebags and set them gently on the adjacent cushion. "Spiced rum, gin, or what's left of the whiskey?" she asked, shaking the smallest bottle.

Big Mac nodded towards the rum and she began pouring half a glass, but not before he decided to reinforce her growing suspicion he was secretly a smartass. "Am ah gonna find a still in the toilet?"

She filled her own glass. "You'll find my foot up your ass if you keep this up." She downed her share in a moment's notice before plopping herself in the chair across from the couch. It was her preferred spot, and the one facing the currently blank screen of the TV on the wall. Reaching to the right of her chair, she felt the comforting cold metal of her own personal cyberdeck. "I swear you acted like a naive farmboy just to fuck with me."

"No ma'am," he said before being interrupted by her.

"Just Sophia. Done with being a lady for now." She poured herself another dash of alcohol. Liquid courage, she always called it. Gunny was right about one thing: she'd drink him under the table any day.

"Oh?" Big Mac lifted his own glass with his hooves. It was an odd motion, not seeing him grip it with fingers, yet he pulled it off by wedging it in between his forehooves. After giving it a sniff to compare the contents against his palate, he downed it like a champ. "And here ah was thinkin' you'd want me to serenade you and paint your nails into the night."

She smiled, slipped off her shoes, pulled off the socks, and brandished a petite leg. "Go at it, big boy." Big Mac looked at his hooves thoughtfully as if seriously considering it. Looking up to her, honest wondering in his eyes, she gave a very unladylike snort and smashed her fist into the radio perched precariously on the coffee table. It fell with a dull thunk onto the worn carpet, bleating uselessly about U.C.A.S. reelections.

Big Mac picked up the gin bottle in his hooves. For a moment Sophia thought even the light consumption of liquor was getting to him, but due to their shared flushed cheeks, and his crimson fur, it was difficult to tell. She immediately shot that down; no self-respecting drinker is finished after just one glass.

He blinked at her, worried that he offended her, as she swiped the bottle from his hooves. "The hell's wrong with you? 's crime to drink a warm gin." His smile returned. Smiles were becoming cheaper by the second today.

As she got up once again, he asked, "So what do you do? Ya said you build things. What kind of things?"

She fished some ice cubes from the freezer, along with a lemon and a knife. Fresh out of limes as she was, it would have to do. "See that?" She thrust her thumb over her shoulder towards the far corner of the living room.

"Yeah," came the reply. "What is it?"

She walked back and sunk into her chair, the knife's handle in her teeth. "Fhat," She spat out the knife and it clattered across the table's surface. Picking it up, she began slicing. "is an Aztechnology GCR-23C crawler. I built that one myself out of scratch parts." It looked like it was about to fall apart. Nevertheless, the treads and sturdy steel chassis, while looking like a breadbox on treads, was still a reasonably impressive sight to anyone unfamiliar with such technology. "I've modded the batteries enough so it can go a good thirty-five hours on a full charge. You can drive that bastard anywhere."

To prove her point, she set down the knife and picked up her cyberdeck. After a few commands, the drone's internal motor hummed to life. Big Mac set down his own glass, fascinated. "Let's give her a spin."

The drone lurched forward a few inches, the motor protesting with a few sputters. It circled the loveseat before obediently resting next to her chair. She gave the brick with treads an affectionate pat. "I build things for a living. Eden is contracted to test out designs to work out the kinks for mass production. It's my job to make sure everything runs as it's supposed to."

With a few more taps and clicks, the drone returned to its corner and its fitless sleep. She returned her attention to the liquor stock and soon two glasses of chilled gin garnished to perfection were at their lips. "What about you, big boy? I know I heard something about farming. That all you do?"

Those eyes were still too large for her liking, but she was warming up to them. He didn't say anything when her cobbled together drone was doing its mistress' duty, but fascination and wonder was still in his eyes. Admittedly, a piece of her was concerned she'd scare him off. The lack of clothes, rustic accents, primitive jobs. Everything about him screamed archaic. If Earth's own history was any indication, the unknown was something to be afraid of. It was one thing being surrounded by an unfamiliar landscape. It was another seeing the fruits of its labor.

"Eeyup," he hummed. He took a small sip of the drink and blinked. As he took a moment to taste it, his ears perked and he downed another sip. It was amazing how much those ears were tied into his expressions. "It usually keeps me busy most of the growin' season. Sweat of mah back is what kept me goin' every year..."

It seemed so easy, just talking like that. How strange it was. How... exotic. The booze was flowing freely now, her five glasses to his three. Just two hours ago, she was still at work, slaving away with the monotony. Now she had kissed a male and dragged him up to her room. Ponies. As much as it made her uncomfortable to have invited Big Mac up to her room, knowing full well what she wanted to do to relax after work, that part of her telling her it was wrong was slowly shushed under each drop of courage. The stigma of bestiality was still there, however.

Well, being gay was illegal once...

Sophia brought herself back to the present. The conversation had morphed some time from farming to magic. She wasn't plastered enough to lose memory just yet, but it was becoming increasingly harder to keep track of her train of thought. "We don't have weather magic. I don't know how many people on Earth have magic either. It doesn't work like that. Not here, anyway. It's probably a good thing; I know far too many people who'd start throwing lightning around like a motherfucker."

Big Mac was grinning goofily. He was a clear drinker, having hammered down his first, but even he could tell the buzz was getting to him. "So how does waking up work?"

Sophia threw a lemon slice at him, which he responded by unearthing a loveseat cushion and throwing it in her face. "I swear I'd dive over this table if it meant I wouldn't knock over a bottle of booze." Big Mac snorted. "It's called the Awakening. Here..."

She downed the last bits of her gin and poured it half full. The remaining ice cubes twinkled softly in the light emitted by the fluorescent bulbs humming above their head. "Think of this gin as the world." Big Mac laughed again, which Sophia responded by throwing the cushion back at him. "Shut up, I have a point. Now, Earth magic comes in phases. Until just after the turn of the millennium, humans and Earth as a whole didn't have a drop of magic. We had always attributed magic as something fantastical, as myth and legend. It never existed, but like I said, we didn't know we had magic all along, but the time just wasn't quite right."

It was harder to think while cotton slowly stuffed itself in her head. "Like I said, magic comes and goes, and long ago, it was time for it to recede." Picking up her glass, she dumped the contents into Big Mac's empty glass. "In 2011, it was that time again." She picked up the gin bottle and poured herself another share. "It wasn't pleasant at first. No one really expected an onslaught of the impossible. Shamans and their spirits. Different planes." Big Mac flinched. "Homunculus. Mana. Awakening orcish and elven bloodlines. So many new things. And sometimes..." From the bowl of ice, she plucked a single cube and held it over her glass. For a second, their eyes met. For once, he looked like he felt uncomfortable.

"And sometimes with such an onslaught, something else, maybe something big and scaly, comes through." With a slight clink the cube dropped into the gin and cracked. Tossing her head back, she tucked back a nip and set her glass down.

Summarizing one of the most important moments in Earth's history in just a few seconds wasn't enough for the crimson stallion. He was staring at her as if seeing a human woman for the first time.

"Are..." He set his glass down, thinking hard about what he stopped himself from saying. She could feel her cheeks blazing with warmth from alcohol and less reputable things. He was also a few shades brighter, something only detracted by the sudden seriousness of his tone. "Are you happy here?"

The kneejerk "Of course." was almost past her lips before he interjected. "You seem... sad. Are you scared of this place?" He gestured with a foreleg towards the window and the massive urban sprawl beyond the blinds. "Of that?"

She got up. Big Mac blinked, and then started to look uneasy as she walked towards him. A small black remote lay where the removed cushion formerly lay. Picking it up, she dangled it in her hands. "I want to show you something."

Pressing a button, the blinds hummed to life and began to raise like some great yawning beast. Seattle's nightlife gleamed into existence, glittering through the shadows for miles, keeping the smog high above the city at bay. Cyclopean skyscrapers topped with lightning rods that shined like stars. The neighboring apartment complex was dappled with lights that twinkled as the occupants inside milled around. Seattle moved and breathed with the people flowing through its veins, her lifeblood infesting every darkened corner and edifice.

"That's what I come home to every night. And by god it's beautiful." Big Mac was speechless, his mouth open slightly as he drank in the night. "There are cracks in the world. Slender, dark, and cold. They are the shadows of this world, and that's where we run."

She sat on the cushionless seat and looked out the window. Bringing an arm around, she gently embraced the pony. "It's not that safe in this city. Gangs, danger, and gunfights can be around any ugly corner, but you find the best of people when presented with a bad situation. Even if they have no reason to help, you find those that do."

Memories of Gunny came to mind. The pair weren't related in the slightest, yet no matter where they went, he still hovered over her like an overprotective brother. Atherton, the guide and mentor. Valentine, wily and strong. "Friendship forged through fire instead of peace. We're all a bunch of oddballs, freaks, and outcasts, and we wouldn't have it any other way. There are parts of this city that have helped me when it had every reason to let me die in the gutter. I'll never forget that debt. I'm not tough, but I'll be there when they need me."

Pressed so close together now, Big Mac's scent was strong enough that it was all she could smell. She breathed it in, his exotic, earthy fragrance a rarity in the metropolis' underbelly. "At times I am afraid, but I remember them. Their names, their faces. They helped me not because it was nice, but because it was right."

Sophia flinched as she felt Big Mac's hoof caress her face. As he pulled away, she could see rivulets of moisture across the surface. She quickly wiped her face with a gloved hand and it too came away moist. He again brought a hoof to her cheek, and this time she let him. For a moment they stared into each other's eyes. One as fathomless as the ocean, the other as mighty as the earth.

"For them, I'll always answer the call."

Something tugged at her heart. The irrational little girl inside her had hoped Big Mac would sweep her off her feet and take her to a land safe from all harm and worry. Dreams. They were as simple as that. No more, no less. In a world of shadows, steel, and raw informations floating across the superhighways—that was where the little corporate drone belonged.

Big Mac still hadn't said a word, silently letting her deal with her momentary bubble of emotion at her own pace. Ever the proper gentleman.

'Gentlecolt.'

Slowly she leaned in closer. Although he trembled slightly beneath her grasp, he did not pull away. She inched closer. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the warmth of his skin.

It was different this time. The kiss was not a brief nip of affection like before. The undercurrent of desire had swelled to new peaks as emotions ran high. It was brief, almost tender, just like their first kiss shared outside, but undercut with the barest need. Unconsciously, she leaned forward. Big Mac fell back onto the arm of the loveseat, his lips still glued to her own.

She broke contact, her chest heaving for air that she didn't know she needed. Big Mac's eyes were wide, but what she felt was reflected on his face. Her hand had drifted lower and now rested on his strong, taut chest. Thick, rippling muscle and fur as soft as velvet coursed underneath her fingers.

It was cute the way he blushed and turned his head to stare at the loveseat's back pillow. "Are...?" he said before catching her eye and looking away again. "Are y'all sure?" Sophia couldn't help but nod, cupping his head with both hands and going in for another kiss. She inched further up until she was straddling his thighs. He was so much bigger than her, every powerful, sinewy muscle clenching under her, yet he let her be on top and dictate the pace. His lips were still soft and malleable, just like any other human she had been with in the past.

Tentatively, she probed his lips with her tongue, silently requesting entry. He shuddered beneath her with a need not unlike her own. Hot breath exited through his nostrils, and he parted his lips. His tongue greeted her own gingerly like a horse shakily separating itself from the herd. Together they danced, her tongue snaking along his own and quickly gaining dominance. His tongue was longer and thicker than her own and contorted like a snake. This was all new territory, but she had time to puzzle it out.

Slowly she ground her hips forward into his crotch. She was still fully clothed, and his saddlebags made it more difficult than it needed to be. Still it had the intended effect and Big Mac kicked his hind legs reflexively. After a few more gyrations, his own hips started to meet her own thrusts. She stroked behind his ears and neck. One particular point hit a sweet spot and he melted under her touch. He bucked again, this time something hard and hot as a furnace colliding with her hips.

They parted, panting and out of breath again. "My room," she hissed. The loveseat, while in the past been used for this exact purpose, wasn't equipped for a pony. The bed on the other hand was plenty big. Big Mac nodded, his blond mane ruffled from the workout she had given it along with being pressed under her own weight. Getting up, she saw just what might be greeting her in the very near future. In response to her light fondling, his marbled pink and black shaft inched out of his sheath. She could feel the wetness clinging to her underwear along with the rivulets of moisture running down her legs.

She rushed to the hallway as she got to her feet, beckoning her mate for the night to follow. Eagerly he scrambled off the loveseat and joined her. At the end of the cramped hallway was her bedroom. Due to her tendency to pass out exhausted after a long day at work or other vigorous activities, her fair-sized bed was one of the few places in her apartment that was immaculate. Big Mac's eyes took a moment to scan the room before returning to her.

It wasn't much of a room. Most of it was still piled with crap, as the closet vomiting objects all over the floor attested. Several posters hung on the wall, and one near the headboard displayed a stunningly attractive woman's face under the letters AV. Neither of them was in any particular mood to admire the new scenery.

She crawled onto the box spring, shaking her hips as she did so. There wasn't much there worth shaking, but it had the intended effect. Before she even reached the pillows, Big Mac had his snout pressed firmly between her thighs. Whatever she had to say came out as nothing more than a content sigh. Still clothed, he couldn't get any penetration no matter how hard he could try, but still he nuzzled her sex behind her pants.

Her knees were shaking with the sensations coursing up and down her spine. She had collapsed with her ass raised, supported entirely on his nuzzling muzzle. "Mmmm..." she moaned pitifully. She swore she could feel him smile.

It took a moment to fiddle with the button on her pants before she yanked them down to her knees. For a sad few moments, her stallion's affections ceased. A thump indicated he had taken the moment to remove his saddlebags and horseshoes. With a flick, her garment was removed to some corner of the room to be forgotten until tomorrow's impending hangover woke her up.

With a creak she felt him join her on the mattress. Her own undies were marred with a large damp spot, courtesy of her increasing arousal and his ministrations. "All ah could smell since we got here was you." Her chest fluttered in embarrassment, despite already being half naked in front of him. She had forgotten about their sense of smell. Her nethers were flooded with a fresh wave of warmth in fluid at the thought of Big Mac basking in her scent the entire time, silently wishing to himself he could just bury himself in her mound and drink her dry.

Speaking of smell, she detected his own musk permeating her cramped bedroom. A slight sheen of sweat coated his body and mane. His shaft was now dangling several inches out of its sheath and growing by the minute. Alcohol had already tainted the decision-making process, something she brazenly decided was not important right now. Still, the couple was dangling at the point of no return. Last chance to turn back...

"Just for the night?"

Big Mac blinked cutely, the haze of lust making him stop pawing nervously at the sheets. She'd never been with a stallion, or any other animal for that matter. 'Strange what one random day will do to you.' She'd bet a fair few nuyen he hadn't been with a woman either. They barely knew each other. He'd probably be out of the city before she woke up. It was just a one night stand, but he could have her if he was interested.

His eyes were roaming over her. She had forgotten to turn on the light, but enough of Seattle's nightlife was leaking through the curtained window to bask the room in a light blue glow. In the moonlight and the soft city radiance, his response was, "Beautiful."

Sophia felt a growl course up her throat. "Get over here," she said huskily. They dove at each other fiercely, lips mashing together. Big Mac had finally displayed just how forceful his powerful body could be and quickly dominated the show of strength. Sophia ended up on her back with Big Mac looming over her. Whatever shyness or gentlemanly behavior he wished to display was quickly overridden by raw, animal lust as his tongue quickly explored every corner of her mouth. She let him take the lead, basking in his affections. Her gloved hands were intertwined behind his head in a vice as if daring him to leave her precious embrace.

Her legs slid back and forth against his barrel. There was something strangely enticing about the sensation. His powerful muscles were forged to hard labor, honest farm work, and it gave her no end of satisfaction to imagine them being used for the basest task of all. Oh, what a glorious cocktail it was. The raw warmth rolling in waves off his skin like some great cistern, that earthy musk that clung to him as dearly as she did now, that spicy fragrance emitting from the throbbing erection dangling near her navel... Everything about him screamed animal and, even though she knew for certain he was not, all she wanted was for him to fuck her raw.

With a burst of strength, she rolled Big Mac over until she was on top. They had parted mid roll and she grinned like a shark, eyes alight with mirth and arousal. Big Mac caught on quick and using his forelegs' ample flexibility, continued the momentum until he was back on top. She couldn't help but let loose a laugh that was joined by his deep, throaty chuckle. God, even his voice was enough to make her melt. "Yes..." she moaned softly. She brought a hand down and ensnared his mottled shaft in a tight grip. Big Mac grunted and whinnied in certainly welcome surprise. The semi-viscous fluid leaking from the head stuck pleasantly between her fingers. Smearing a glove with his precum, she started jerking off his erection. Big Mac shuddered and moaned, his rear leg stomping again.

Her breath began to hitch in her throat. Another thing she had forgotten was that horses, although smaller than the average human in most respects, were certainly bigger in one.

"Oh, dear..."

Her stallion hummed quietly before seeing where her eyes were locked. Her brief handjob had risen him to full mast, a healthy twelve to thirteen inches. He already outweighed her, but that would tear her in half! Big Mac let her crawl out from underneath him in order to examine the object of her lust. There was no possible way he could hilt that in her. Not that she wouldn't try.

"Ummm..." He looked around bashfully.

'Of all the times, now you're giving me privacy?' she thought. "Uh..." Well, this was awkward. "...Try lying down." He dutifully did so. As he passed her on the squeaky bed, he flicked his tail, catching her in the side. She punched him in his haunches. It felt like iron under all that corded muscle.

He must have taken a leaf out of her book, as he sashayed his hips back and forth in front of her. Her eyes never left that huge member. She could see it bob in time with his heartbeat as a dollop of precum dripped from the tip. Just watching was enough to make her moan in delight, something that elicited a particular pleasing bob from his throbbing cock.

Big Mac decided on resting his back on the pillows in order to see her at work. Little Mac loomed down towards him as if begging him to suck himself off. Peeling off her right glove, Sophia reached forward and grasped his member again, this time with nothing separating her from the pleasing heat of his skin. It twitched as soon as she made contact. The head was flared outward obscenely, almost double the girth of the shaft. Brandishing his dick, she stuck her tongue out and started at the base of the shaft. She stared at him, an unspoken dare to break eye contact. He snorted softly. Ears twitched, hips bucked, legs kicked. Everything about him bespoke volumes: he was as ready as she was.

The touch of pre on her tongue sent a fresh wave of pleasure through them both. His hips bucked forward, giving her a face-full of his bountiful testicles. She pushed him down so she could finish, every caress of her tongue collecting more and precum. It tasted little better than salt water, but the reason on his face was enough to soak her panties through in an instant. He brought his hooves to the back of her head, guiding her upward. As she reached his head, she waited, circling the tip with her tongue. Big Mac grunted in need, pained that her mouth, the object of his own desire, was so close.

Her lips grazed the flared head and she pushed forward, taking the tip down her throat. Everything tasted like hot, warm flesh. Up and down she went, making extra sure to stroke his shaft after every bob of her head. Her other hand ventured lower and cradled both hefty orbs.

"Ugh," he grunted. "Oh, do that again..." She chuckled, her voice sending vibrations all along his shaft. Stroke, fondle, up, stroke, fondle, down. He was kicking and snorting wildly now.

She pulled his head out with a particularly loud pop. "Not something mares do that often, eh chummer?" He shook his head and tried to pull her head back down around his cock. Another dollop started to collect on the tip. She pulled away instead and he gave a disappointed nicker of protest.

"Come off it," she jeered. Her hands were already at her waistband, pulling her already soaked panties off her womanhood.

"Can't help it; yer jus' too goo—" Whatever he was going to say was cut off as she stuffed her panties into his muzzle.

"It's my turn now." She tasted Big Mac on her fingers before inserting two between her folds. Her palm brushed against her clit with each thrust and forcing her to give a satisfied grunt everytime her little soldier buzzed at the contact. She added a third finger; she was already well lubricated enough. Big Mac was staring at her with open lust, his tongue lolling out obscenely. His own forelegs were on his erection and jerking furiously at the obscene, wanton display. One hoof held her panties to his snout, inhaling, savoring, her scent.

Propping herself up on one hand for leverage, she thrust her hips into the air and added a fourth finger. She was more than ready to jump him right there and get fucked within in an inch of her life. But there was something she wanted to try first. Big Mac had a really long tongue.

She jerked her undies away and forced her crotch into his face. His head banged against the headboard with a loud thunk but he was far from feeling pain. Both hooves wrapped around her hips and jerked her towards him almost painfully. He had clearly watched her tart-like display carefully and discovered without much prodding where her little love button was. One lick with his rough tongue and she melted in his grasp. She bucked her hips in place but was barely able to move in his vice-like grip. His tongue sought out each little corner of her cunt and collected every droplet of her arousal. Instead of voicing her approval at his dedication to the craft, all that came out of her mouth was a long, deep moan of satisfaction and a distended, "Fuuuuuck..."

Both hands were at her breasts. She loved the feeling of rolling her nipples between her fingers. With a firm twist, a high pitched squeak added to the sensations ravishing her spine and core. She was likely to drown him at the point, yet his tongue kept clicking back and forth dutifully.

"Oh god right there!" she screamed as he flicked her g-spot. He complied and focused hard on that one delicious, toe-curling spot. She was shamelessly rocking her hips into his muzzle now, each little bit of give rammed her clit against his nose. He wasn't slowing down. If anything, he was speeding up as he lapped at her slick walls again and again. Her own orgasm was coming like a train and by god she wasn't going to get in the way. After one last lick, she grasped her breasts and twisted.

Every single muscle in her body convulsed. She was saying something, but whether it was encouragement for him to continue or one long, continuous scream of delight, she couldn't discern. She was blinded by the white light that burst forth as she came so violently she swore she had squirted. She had lost all sense of self and time as her arms and legs twitched with every jerk of her hips.

Sophia wasn't sure how long it was until she regained her breath and ceased her shakes. A pleasing thrumming coursed along her vagina and back up her spine; Big Mac was chuckling.

"Wow..." she said dreamily. Her movements were slow and sluggish as she maneuvered off his face. He took in gasp of air as she vacated her throne, having nearly suffocated the poor dear as she came. There were worse ways to go other than death by orgasm.

He looked at her with a smile, his muzzle and chin splattered with her own excitement. Straddling his chest, she could feel his own excitement throbbing with need against her back. "You were great," she said. She felt compelled to say more, but the afterglow refused to release its pleasant hold. Sex and sweat permeated the air. The warmth in the room was almost stifling. She wasn't ready to quit just yet, and was certainly not cruel enough to leave him hanging in such a state.

She leaned down to kiss him once more. She tasted herself across his muzzle and every corner of his mouth. Rather than the craven, carnal desire that had consumed her before, this kiss was slower, more passionate. She even tasted a little bit of his own excitement. Parting, she panted and bore her eyes into his own, memorizing every feature. That mischievous grin, flush face, everything about him. Big Mac leaned forward and nuzzled her chest. There wasn't much there to motorboat, but she wrapped her arms around his head as he worked her over through her shirt.

"Ah want t' see you," he moaned. She was pantless, but not shirtless. And for good reason.

It was one of the rare times that night she hesitated. Her having stiffened at the words, he could tell in a moment the mood had shifted towards the less amorous. He stopped lavishing affection on her pert tits, a questioning look on his moist face.

"Is... is something wrong?"

Sophia smiled weakly. Even with his raging cock mere inches away from her own wet, willing cunt, he still played the gentleman card. "No, no... jus'..." She trailed off and sighed. 'Bite the bullet.' It wasn't as if he'd be the only one to know. The paranoid part of her that screamed self preservation so many other times before was silenced by another piece that had been growing stronger where her stallion was concerned. Not love, at least not any she was familiar with, but trust. The same trust she gave Gunny and her other friends in droves. Big Mac deserved to know.

She grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it up, taking the jacket clinging to her since the metro along with it. Their frantic pace had now slowed to a crawl. Even the velvety fur nipping at her labia wasn't invoking nearly what it had before. Here it was. This was her secret.

Big Mac's eyes widened and he gasped as he saw her au naturel in the starlight. He brought a hoof up and traced the numerous scars across her collarbone and chest. Running across her ribs was a patch of skin that was a light blue color where she knew her synthetic lung could be seen through the skin. The brutality that marred her body wasn't what topped the revelation.

Smooth, white plastic plated ever inch of her left arm. The interlocking plates covered almost seamlessly the black and silver metals hiding under the surface. Where the elbow would have been was a circular silver hunk of steel that noiselessly rotated back and forth as her arm moved. Printed right below the shoulder in sharp blue letters was a word they were both familiar with: Shiawase.

"I'm the sum of my parts."

She wasn't sure what compelled her to say such a thing, but as she did, Big Mac picked at the glove still donning her left hand. As it came off he was greeted by a delicate silver hand. Each digit was a little silver nub plated over black machinery and ugly plastic.

The way he cradled her hand was as if he was holding a hatchling over a den of ravenous snakes. His hard hooves slid across every groove in the metal. For a moment she wondered if he could feel her arm at all until she saw the fleshy center of his hoof.

"Can..." It wasn't shyness that tainted his tenor. Now he seemed afraid. Afraid of how she would react. "Can you—"

"I can't feel anything." She rubbed the Shiawase logo. Whether it was to try and remove it from existence or the perpetual feeling of cold, not even she knew. "At times it feels as it my arm's still there, but no."

He traced a hoof up her arm. Despite not being able to feel his gentle touch, she shivered regardless. He stopped where flesh met metal, tracing the scars that looked like they fed right into the cyberarm.

"That ain't no accident." She smiled darkly. Some part of her expected Big Mac to not recognize the damage, but he'd proven remarkably sharp already. Even the simplest street trash would recognize knife wounds.

"No," she whispered. "And he's not going to be able to do it again. Ever again." The tone of her voice must of sent the message across that this wasn't a topic she was ready to talk about in full.

He didn't like it and she knew it. His irises darted back and forth, an internal battle of conscience, likely between fighting for her honor and acquiescing to her wishes. After a few brief moments, he nodded. The tension within her chest loosened enough to get her breathing back under wraps.

He opened his forelegs to invite her back into his grasp, an offering she freely accepted. He flinched slightly as her cyberarm touched his cheek as they kissed once more. Part of the reason why she wore gloves so often was her arm chilled in cooler weather. He dabbled kisses on her lips and jaw line, slowly inching his way lower. The fire that had cooled during her reveal rekindled with fresh fuel. His own erection had softened against her back, but reaching around for a few fresh strokes quickly remedied that problem. She loved the feeling of him throbbing under her grasp. Any male, in fact. It was empowering. Intoxicating even. Dabbling with girls on occasion was fun, but nothing compared to getting a good dicking.

A hiss escaped her lips as he latched onto her breasts and started suckling. 'Everyone loves my girls,' she chuckled to herself. He rolled his tongue around the nipple carefully, but seemed unwilling to use his teeth. She didn't care; his tongue was heavenly enough. He quickly switched breasts and lavished its twin with a trail of kisses and suckling. It took a little work to regain their momentum, but he had her moaning again in short order. She clung to his neck as her hand pumped his stallionhood for all it was worth. She jumped a little as a smoldering piece of stallion meat kissed her sex. The animal groan that came from her lips was enough to get the juices flowing.

Her eyes bulged a little when Big Mac quickly wrapped his forelegs around her milky chest and rolled so he was once more on top.

"Let me have you."

He peppered her again with kisses, first her lips before moving down to her breasts. She wailed in delight, tightening her grip around his neck so he wouldn't leave. His proud stallion rested hotly against her mound.

"Let me show you."

He was pawing and snorting now, desperate to shove her burning length into her tight sex. What a herculean effort it took to resist that urge. She wanted to be on top in order to not get hurt by his monstrous length, but she trusted him. He knew her secret, and all he cared about was showing her a little love. She lifted her hips to give him better leverage.

"Worship me, big boy."

She grunted as his head rammed against her labia. It was still a tight fit and the oversized intruder parted her flower inch by agonizing inch. It felt wonderful and first, but now it hurt. If his length was intimidating, it was nothing compared to his girth. Her vagina was designed to push out something a lot larger than that, but the pain mixing in with the pleasure was slowly winning out.

And just like that, he was inside.

Sophia cooed as she felt his heartbeat where they were conjoined. This is what she wanted. He waited for her to adjust, slobbering her breasts as she gyrated and readjusted herself. She looked down past Mac's now messy shock of blond mane. It didn't look like anything at all was inside her. He had so much more love to give.

"Okay," she whimpered in his ear. She rubbed his back encouragingly, the cold metal making him shiver in cold and pleasurable delight, sensations he was giving her with ease. He adjusted his grip on her chest and pulled out agonizingly slow so that only his flare was nestled snuggling within her needy cunt. With a measured precision, he thrust back in slowly, measuring her response. He began seesawing into her little by little. It wasn't long before she began rocking her own hips back and forth to match his movements.

Her own excitement conjoined his own leaking stallionhood deep within. The thought made her think of both of their juices still on her lips and the marvelous eroticism of being pummeled by the biggest cock in her life. The impending sore hips were a thing of the past as she thrust back to meet Big Mac like a depraved slut.

More and more he worked her over, sliding in slowly and deeply in such a delicious cum-inducing manner. With every rock of their hips, more and more of his stallionhood entered her poor, abused pussy. It wasn't long until they both felt him connect at her deepest and a twinge of pleasure and pain coursed through them both. He was a little over halfway inside, just short of the medial ring that kissed the outer lips of her pussy. He didn't dare try to go any deeper than that, even though the horniness was enough to make her beg to hilt her in an instant and pump her full of his seed. His big, round orbs, so full of seed. She wondered how much he was going to pump into her as if he needed to pour his soul into her womb with every spurt. The thought was enough to trigger her second orgasm of the night.

Sophia's hypersensitive cunt milked him for all she was worth. She wrapped her legs around his flanks, egging him on as her cunt twitched around him. He had to be close. Her breast popped from his mouth and he lay his head on her chest. He was focused on nothing but thrusting his hips into her now, obeying the need to fill his little broodmare full of his virile load.

She hugged him tight and embraced the feeling of his soft fur brushing up against her naked body as she rode out her orgasm, It wasn't nearly as strong as her first, but it was lasting much longer. He was so close. She could feel it now. The shaft buried deep in her core expanded with blood, straining her vaginal walls and threatening to tear her apart. He gave one more thrust, grinding viciously into her yielding rear.

The second his hot seed burst from his cock like a flood, she orgasmed a third time. No lover could even compare to the load pumping into her right now. His flare had sealed her up with an almost airtight lock. She screamed gibberish as she cradled his head protectively to her chest. With every new spurt his hips jerked forward, adding a few more pleasant tingles to an already incredible night.

After three orgasms and being literally fucked by a horse, Sophia was exhausted. Big Mac's voluminous cumshot was enough to escape their union and leak out of her used and abused love tunnel. Their crotches were plastered messily with both of their fluids, and as Big Mac's erection slowly softened and retreated back into its sheath, the head popped free and another fresh load dumped out onto the sheets.

His full weight collapsed onto her. He too was panting with the exertion needed to scratch that primal itch. For the next several minutes they were content with basking in the pleasant afterglow of good sex. She stroked him behind his ears in that little sweet spot she'd come to identify.

"I'd love to keep you around for later, Big Boy," she intoned in a sing-song voice. Big Mac nipped at her breast, too tired to speak. She snuggled closer, inhaling his scent as deeply as she could. She continued to stroke his back affectionately, the smooth metal caressing slowly along his spine. As she curled up for a nap, his sweet, sexy baritone rang out before he too curled close.

"Ah've still got a few more hours left."

Editors: Softy8088, The Synn Lofsvard, TittySparkles, RainbowBob