When Thistle heard the front door open, she sucked in her breath, held it for a moment, and then felt a nervous gurgle in her stomach. It was late… or perhaps early, depending on how one might look at it. She worried, wondering if this was a good idea, wondering if Bucky would come back from wherever it was that he had gone too tired, if perhaps this was a bad idea.

As if feeling the kelpie’s anticipation, the blossoms in her mane of living plants swelled and began to release their sweet perfume. Thistle could feel a nervous itch in her frogs.

And then, she saw him. There he was at the front door, shaking the snow that was falling outside off of himself. Thistle felt her heart skip a beat.

“What are you doing up this late?”

His voice. Thistle loved his voice. For a moment, she bit her lip, not realising how coy she looked, or the effect she had on Bucky. She drew in a deep breath, her barrel expanded, and her tail swished from hind leg to the other.

“I was here… waiting for you to come home,” Thistle heard herself saying. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. She had been with Bucky before. But not in the way that she hoped that she would be with him… the way she wanted to be with him.

Bucky stood sniffing and Thistle’s tail twitched once more, wafting a musky scent as well as her own natural floral perfume. The unicorn and the kelpie stood there, eyeing one another, and Thistle took a nervous step forward.

“I wanted some alone time… just us time… I’m all healed up and I think I’ve waited long enough. I’ve been a good filly, a good mama, I’ve been a good kelpie, and I want what is coming to me,” Thistle said. She blinked, fluttered her long eyelashes at Bucky, and smiled, revealing a mouth full of needle teeth. “Have you eaten? Do you need food?”

“I ate just before I got a ride home… since when did you get so pretty?”

Tittering, Thistle gave Bucky an eyes-half-closed stare. “I’m pretty? Tell me, what is it about me that you find… pretty?”

“Oh… you’ve filled out. You’ve gotten a little padding in all the right places now and I love your eyes—”

“I know your secrets,” Thistle said, interrupting as she stepped forward and brushed her muzzle against Bucky’s. “One night when Luna was over, we had ourselves a talk just between mares as I was letting Bell Heather suckle. She told me all about you.” Thistle heard Bucky’s breathing as it grew heavier.

“And what did Luna tell you…”

Giggling, Thistle nuzzled Bucky’s face, angled her muzzle upwards at his ear, and blew. She watched his ear flick and twitch. “You live in a house with some big mares and you… you are such a little stallion. Bon Bon and Derpy are actually just a little bigger than you are, and Bon Bon is solid enough that she can just toss you around and have her way with you.” Thistle sucked in a deep breath, held it, and then blew it out over Bucky’s ear again. “But with me… me and my hot little filly body… I’m smaller than you… for now. You feel big… and strong… and in charge. You like how much smaller I am compared to you. And Luna told me to enjoy this for as long as it lasted.”

“I must admit… there is something about being bigger than you are and holding you close to me. I can wrap myself around you and feel… protective of you.”

Thistle took another step forward and now stood neck to neck with Bucky. “We have the spare bedroom in the back of the house that Bon Bon and Lyra sometimes use when they want a private moment all to ourselves. Lyra put fresh sheets on the bed and there are candles waiting for us”

“You are using your talent right now, aren’t you?” Bucky asked.

Thistle’s tail swished. “You’ve been trained to resist all forms of magical persuasion… but I know that you can’t resist mine.” Thistle planted a few nibbles, soft kisses along the base of Bucky’s neck, nosing through his long mane to reach his pelt. “Don’t make me use the full force of my talent against you. I did it to Berry one night, just to see what would happen.”

“Oh you dirty little kelpie.”

Outside, the wild wind howled as the approaching storm began to blow in, causing a strong need to snuggle in all those who heard it.

“My waters have been still for far too long… I need some splashing in my loch.” Thistle did her best to sound seductive, remembering every lesson she had taken from Berry Punch.

“Want me to put some swimmers in your hole?”

Unable to help herself, Thistle began to laugh, a fillyish and rather immature laugh, and she had no idea what the sounds of her laughter was doing to Bucky as he listened. The laughter turned into a few giggle-snorts and Thistle suffered one moment where she worried such behaviour might not be attractive.

“Hmm… something seems to have slipped out.”

Bucky’s voice was a soft whisper near Thistle’s ear. She pulled her head away from Bucky’s neck, her ear tracing along his ribs, and she dropped her head down to have a look. Something was indeed peeking out and dangling down.

“Oh look what I did,” Thistle said as she raised up a front hoof. She gave a gentle swipe at it, her movement catlike. She batted it around. “So funny looking. It just… dangles out. I’ll never get over how silly it looks.” Thistle tittered and gave it another poke. “How do you live with it just hanging down like that?” She heard Bucky let out a soft nervous chuckle.

“I manage.”

“I find that filly bits are much nicer to look at… but colt bits feel so good.” Thistle watched as Bucky swung back and forth from her last prodding. “I can’t look at this, it is too silly.”

“I guess I’ll have to hide it away somewhere.”

As Bucky spoke, Thistle felt her nethers clench. “I could think of a place…”

The candles filled with room with a soft warm glow. The scent of roses, of jasmine, and mare musk lingered in the air. The house creaked from the blowing wind, it was almost as if the house itself was moaning in anticipation of what was about to happen.

Thistle, laying on her belly, her hind legs kicked out behind her and Bucky beside her, pulled away from one long smouldering kiss. She looked into Bucky’s eyes, remembering how they once were, she remembered his handsome face as it once was, but was not repulsed by how he was now. Her eyes open, she kissed the scarred side of Bucky’s face knowing he could not feel her lips, but that he could see her open eyes.

“I think I’m ready for you,” Thistle said in a low nervous whisper.

“Just roll over and I’ll get to work.”

“No… Bucky, I think I’m ready for you. There has been enough nibbling around down there, months of nibbling. There is something else I want from you.” Thistle closed her eyes and leaned against Bucky.

“Thistle, we need to make sure that you’re slicked up enough—”

“Bucky, I can’t get any wetter. The sheet is soaked.” Thistle opened her eyes. “I want to feel your weight on top of me. I want to feel my body being pushed into the bed. I want to feel you grinding against my croup. I want to feel myself buried under your body as you have your way with me. We can worry about romantic love later… right now… I need to get laid.”

“But we have all of these candles…”

“Bucky… don’t tease me… and please don’t make me a mother again just yet.”

“I’ll be careful.”

There was a rustle of fabric, the soft whispers of fine pelt hairs rubbing against flannel sheets. Thistle took a deep breath and held it. She felt a foreleg thrown over her back, ribs rubbed up against her own. Something poked her in the hip, something with a wet tip and a hard length. She felt Bucky slide over her back and his reassuring bulk settled over her spine.

One foreleg wrapped around her chest, just below her neck, and Thistle felt Bucky’s neck against her own. He was heavy, but not too heavy. Her heart thudded in her chest, hammering against her ribcage as she was crushed down into the mattress. Her tail was brushed aside, thrown over her extended left leg.

Her excitement peaked as she felt herself wink; her body prepared itself for what she so craved. There was a wet sticky sound as she felt her nubbin push its way free of her moistened and sticky, clinging lips. There was a feeling of not knowing what was going on, not knowing what was happening, and Thistle savoured every second as she stared forward at a burning candle.

Thistle gasped when she felt something slide between her velvet cheeks, probing its way into her plot furrow and feeling around, seeking out her entrance. Not knowing what else to do, she lay there, held still, and waited.

“Angle up a little.”

Bucky’s soft whisper startled Thistle and she felt her whole body tense. She flexed her back muscles and angled her hips upwards a bit, lifting her pert hindquarters away from the bed just a little. She felt her furrow being parted, Bucky’s wide girth was spreading her open and she felt cool air blowing over hot and fevered places. Something broad and flat pressed up against Thistle’s sopping slit. She had felt it before, she had even taken in it in just a little before, parting her outer lips but never fully penetrating her inner opening.

There was a wet squishing sound and Thistle felt pressure. A moment later, her flesh parted, allowing entrance, and there was a gentle pushing as something made its way inside of her. She gasped, drew in a deep breath, and tried to relax. It was important to relax. She had felt this before and was prepared for it. Something pressed against her inner lips, the narrower smaller hole that lay nestled within her slit.

When she felt something begin to stretch her open, Thistle whimpered. The penetration stopped for a moment and Thistle released the breath that she hadn’t realised she was holding. The leg around her chest slide upwards a bit, up to the base of her neck, and gave a gentle squeeze.

Thistle had felt Bell Heather being squirted out of that hole, and now she felt Bucky coming in, creeping forward just a little bit at a time. There was a moment of pain, but it wasn’t terrible pain, and Thistle ignored it.

It was already subsiding.

“Oh that’s tight… that feels really good.”

“I bet you’ve been wanting to bury that in my tight little filly twat for a long time,” Thistle said in the sultriest whisper she could muster.

“Thistle… you have a dirty mouth… I like it.”

Lifting her head, Thistle pressed her neck against Bucky’s, feeling him as he slid deeper. His length was rubbing along her tiny little knob of flesh, and each inch stuffed in made her shiver. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it must look like back there, the sight of slick wet flesh, tight taught skin, shimmering beads of moisture, and her tight little filly twat being sundered by bulging stallion cock. Thistle liked to watch Berry or Derpy being penetrated, it was something she loved to watch and it was the focus of all of her own masturbatory fantasies.

Thistle’s imagination brought her to the distant edge of a climax.

Then, Thistle felt a terrible pain as something pressed too deep. “Stop!”

She felt Bucky tense on top of her, she could feel him trembling. “Pull out a little bit, the tip hit something and it hurt.” Even as she was speaking, she felt Bucky pulling out.

“I think I felt myself bottom out. I’m not especially hung, but your tight little filly snatch isn’t deep enough to take all of me.”

Breathing deep, Thistle waited for the pain to pass. She gulped down more air and felt Bucky lurking at her entrance. “Whatever it is deep down in there, it’s tender. I think I’ll be fine if you don’t hit it again.” Thistle felt sweat rolling off of her neck and her sides. “Be gentle with me Bucky, I know there is a lot of dirty talk about me being a filly, but I am a filly…”

“I know.”

“Sorry I can’t take you all in,” Thistle said in a low whisper.

“Are you kidding? I have a short stubby little pecker… do you know how good it feels knowing I am too long? Belisama and I have this problem too.”

Thistle kicked her hind legs a little as she felt Bucky teasing her soaked slit. She parted, easier this time, and she felt him slip in, sinking in several much needed inches, and then pull out before going too deep. She gasped, feeling slick skin sliding over her clitoris.

“Ooh… mister… you’re bad… screwing my little filly snatch with your big throbbing stallion cock…” Thistle did her best to keep from giggling. She felt Bucky’s stomach muscles tensing, flexing against her croup. “You promised me candy and pretty hair ribbons.”

“Thistle… I… don’t know how to react… suddenly this feels so wrong.”

“Don’t you dare stop now, you neurotic twit!”

She felt Bucky’s length slide in and out with a slow gentle pace. She felt suction building as she clenched tight around him. Thistle could feel Bucky shoving her backwards as he thrust into her.

“Oh mister… are you gonna blow your load in my backside?”

Thistle heard a startled gasp and began to giggle.

“Thistle… I don’t know what to do with you… what… what is going on here?”

“Berry Punch and I read a lot of trashy romance novels and took turns getting each other off while I was stuck in bed. We’d read, scratch each others itch, and read some more… for hours at a time some days… and she brought me books about tender young fillies that discovered the shameful love of an older stallion, who corrupted her and took her fillyish innocence.”

“What?”

“A hot teenage filly on the verge of being a mare… trying to get good grades from her teacher, bent over the teacher’s desk and given a good hot sweaty rutting… wanna be my teacher Bucky?”

“What did Berry do to you?”

Thistle felt a gushing warmth between her legs as Bucky slid in and out. Her inner thighs were twitching and jerking. Her hind hooves kicked up and down against the bed as Bucky drove himself into her, but never too hard or too deep.

“Oh mister… you said you just wanted to hug me,” Thistle said in a breathless voice. She felt Bucky inhale and his thrusting picked up the pace. Thistle angled her hips some more, and then discovered that if she rolled her hips as Bucky was sliding in, delightful friction and pressure would be placed on her hot throbbing nubbin.

Gasping, Thistle felt Bucky’s thighs pressing in against her cutie marks, squeezing against her red hearts with puckered pink smooch prints. She felt herself growing tighter around him, and she could feel his shaft sliding between her still somewhat chubby cheeks.

She realised that by having her plot furrow squeezed around Bucky’s cock, Bucky was getting more flesh around his shaft. The thought was dirty and Thistle let out a little squeal as she drew nearer to what she knew was going to be one very satisfying orgasm.

“Ooh mister… that’s too much meat in my backside... please never screw my tiny filly plothole, please mister, please… I’ll be a good filly… I might even lick your dick.”

Thistle felt Bucky’s foreleg lock tight around her, redoubling his grip, and then Thistle realised, she was about to be screwed. His legs clamped tight against her hips, sandwiching his length between her velvety cheeks as half of his cock slipped in an out of her hot filly pinkness. He was being a little rough now, but not too rough, and nothing hurt.

With a sensual moan, Thistle’s tongue fell out of her mouth and she began to pant. Each thrust made her squeak. Her eyes crossed as she was being screwed silly. The sounds… the scents.. the sensation… it was all too much. She could feel Bucky sliding along her back, slipping back and forth, her skin was getting tugged and yanked as he slid forward, then backwards, while stuffing her hot too tight twat.

“Ooh mister… I just wanted... to sell you... some filly... scout cookies…”

Almost giggling, her whole body tensing, Thistle felt everything go tight as electric ecstasy tingled though her whole body. Tingles ran up and down her spine. As the orgasm overpowered her, Thistle started laughing. She could feel Bucky’s nose pressing into her neck and his heavy breathing was hot against her flesh.

Each thrust caused her whole body to go rigid for a moment and shivery shudders rippled through her muscles. It was too much to take and Thistle hoped it would last forever.

“No mister… no… whatever you do… don’t bust a nut... in my innocent... little filly snatch! It’ll be messy... and gross!” Thistle panted.

“Naughty little filly scouts… get a load of creamy filling!”

“No… mister… no!”

Thistle gasped as she felt Bucky sink in as far as he dared. It was a tight fit, deep, but not deep enough to hurt, and she felt him flare inside of her. She felt herself being stretched by his swelling cock as his whole body convulsed and shuddered on top of her.

“Mister… no… you never paid... for your cookies!”

“Take it like… a… bad… filly!”

Thistle felt something squirting inside of her, deep within her crevice. It shot out and struck against her tender inner flesh with enough force to be felt. She felt her hips buck as the high pressure jet of spunk spattered against her inner recesses.

After a few more squirts, Thistle felt Bucky go limp on top of her. Her face was shoved down into the bed as Bucky’s head collapsed upon the back of her neck. She could feel his pecker twitching and still spurting inside of her. Her plot furrow felt hot where skin had rubbed against skin. She felt drool dribbling down the side of her neck.

Giggling, Thistle relished the feeling of the bigger, heavier male collapsed and heaving on top of her. “So… when can we do that again?” she whispered.

Author's Notes:

Thistle is more for auditory stimulation...