Sunlight poured in through the window, and slowly, blearily, Applejack's crusty eyelids parted.

She instantly regretted waking up.

"Agh," she groaned, pressing both forehooves to her temples. Her brain throbbed like a pustule about to burst. She was no stranger to hangovers, but this one was in a class of its own. "How much did I haveta drink last night?"

Applejack pulled the musty covers back up. The sunlight felt like razorblades, so she squeezed her eyes shut. "Oww. 'M still a lil' drunk, I think. What time is..."

The bedsprings squealed as someone beside her rolled over.

Somehow she managed to keep from yelping in surprise. Applejack lay as still as she could, still curled in the fetal position, and strained to hear what was happening behind her back. Whoever it was shifted, groaned, and pulled themselves into a sitting position. There came a moist, shuffling sound---the rubbing of sticky eyes.

"Oh C'lestia," he slurred. Definitely a stallion, his voice hoarse and thick with dehydration. "My head."

Then a gasp. Applejack bit her lip, somewhat relieved to find she wasn't the only one surprised by a bedmate. The tip of a hoof carefully pressed between her shoulderblades. She didn't move. Then it prodded.

Years of living with a nosy little sister had taught her how to fake sleep; she grunted, jerked her shoulder a little, and made a few smacking sounds with her lips. He seemed satisfied that she was still out of it, and shuffled closer. The hoof now rested on her foreleg just above the elbow; it gently traced upwards, over her neck, and then carefully her suitor lifted the strands of mane that were obscuring her face.

He jerked his hoof back as if burnt. Applejack wasn't sure what to make of that. Did she really look that awful? Her teeth clamped down on her tongue when he whisked the covers clean off her, trying not to cry out at the blast of cold, stale air, or at how horribly vulnerable she suddenly felt. Being naked was one thing, but being inspected by a total stranger.... well, it gave her the heebie-jeebies. She could almost feel his eyes dragging down her body.

His breath whooshed over her flank, and Applejack's face went hot. She knew he wouldn't notice, because now he was staring at her cutie mark. He even tapped it a few times, as if to see if it was real.

A low chuckle. She grit her teeth. So he'd figured out who she was. Fantastic.

Then the covers came back up, tickling her hide with static electricity as they went; he pulled them up to her chin, carefully tucking them in around her, and then planted a chaste little kiss on her cheek. The mattress shifted under her as his weight rolled off; Applejack waited, breath baited, until she heard him close the bathroom door behind him. Then she breathed out with a whoosh.

"Aw hellbeans," she murmured, sitting up. The motion made her stomach lurch. "What in the name of the Sisters did I do last night?"

She blinked until her eyes didn't feel quite so gummy, and took in the scene around her. She was in a dingy room only a few feet wider than the root cellar back home. The walls were covered with a faded wallpaper that was peeling around the waterspots, its seams and imperfections somewhat masked by the framed oil paintings that looked like they were purchased at end-of-lot auctions. Her hat was dangling from the curtain rod. On the rickety table next to the bed was a yellowed pamphlet that read WELCOME TO YOU'RE STAY AT MOTEL E-Z-SLEEP!

"A motel," she muttered. "Great. Just great. You sure one classy broad, AJ."

A rattle from the bathroom made her jump and clamp a hoof over her mouth, but he didn't seem to have heard. The rattle turned into a splutter, then a hiss as water flowed from ancient taps. From the sound of it, he was drawing a bath. Good. That bought her some time.

I suppose there's a chance I got nothin' to worry about, Applejack thought. Maybe he's a gentlecolt. Maybe he just took me up here to make sure I was all safe an' sound, and went an' fell asleep 'cuz he was sauced, too. We just happened to share a bed... don't mean anything, right?

"Yeah, sure," she muttered. Still... there was a chance. She warily placed her hoof under the coverlet and ran it to her right until she felt the residual warmth of his body. Then she moved it downwards, until---

"Agh! Oh yuck!" Applejack yanked her now-sticky hoof back, disgusted. Yes, that was definitely a wet spot.

Dangit.

Now what?

It briefly occured to her to just take off, but that didn't seem proper. Not only would she be leaving him with the bill for the room---and, judging from the soiled plates on the floor, the room service as well---but fleeing like a coward wasn't her style. Not to mention that he knew who she was.

Very gingerly, Applejack crawled out of bed and made her way to the table under the smeared window. She turned on the coffeemaker and plugged her ears as it wheezed and rumbled to life.

You can do this, AJ, she thought, steeling herself. Let him have his bath, and when he comes back out, you just keep a straight face, exchange some pleasanteries---somethin' aobut the weather----and do that little two-step 'til you can make a decent exit.

Her dry throat suddenly spasmed as a fragment of a memory hit her.

Two-step.

They'd been dancing.

***

She remembered the night starting as most Thursday nights did---stuck in the corner of that dingy watering hole, hoof-wrestling Berry Punch for drinks. It was always easy; Berry played to lose.

"Gotcha!" Applejack shouted, slamming the purple foreleg onto the sticky bar. "That's seventeen to two!"

Her companion giggled as she rubbed her sore ankle. "Yeah, yeah. You let me win'nnose two, an' you know it."

She smirked. "Mmmaybe."

"Hey!" She put her hoof to her teeth and tried to whistle, but what came out sounded more like a raspberry. The barkeep wearily turned in their direction. "Gimme anover round, over, over here, willya?"

This time the barkeep just pushed the uncorked bottle over to them and left if there.

They downed their shots---half of Berry's ended up trickling out the corner of her muzzle---and Applejack put her right elbow on the table again. "Wanna make it an even twenty?"

"'Snot fair," came the reply, full of nearly-convincing petulance. "I'm left-hooved."

Applejack laughed. "That's your excuse now? C'mon. I'd win with all four hooves tied behind my back."

"That," she said simply, "is 'mpossible. You'd break yer legs."

Something cold brushed her elbow, and Applejack glanced down to see a fresh drink sitting there. It was one of those girly abominations, the kind with a marascino cherry and a sugar rim and even a damn parasol sitting on a cloud of whipped cream. She shot a look at the barkeep. "What in the hay is that?"

"Diabetes in a cup," she replied. Then she flicked her head over her shoulder. "From the gentlecolt over there."

***

AJ took a swig of coffee and forced it down. It tasted like grease, but she could already feel the caffeine kicking in. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force the memory-shard to reform, but it was still just little scattered pieces.

***

She didn't accept the drink. Here she found another gap between the memories, but she did recall some words being exchanged with.... She couldn't piece together his face. That's where the drink had ended up, after some lewd comment about apples and juiciness. She'd never thrown a drink on a stallion before and had fully expected him to be roaring mad, but instead he just plucked the parasol out of his mane and tossed it back at her, laughing.

The next part of the memory was only a few seconds later, but she'd been pulled onto the dance floor and was balancing precariously on her hind legs, her cheek on his, looking over his shoulder at the sea of dancing ponies.

"What?" she shouted at him over the music.

"I said, have you never danced the two-step before?" he shouted back.

His foreleg was tucked in the crease of her waist, and he tug it in, pushing her to the left. She instinctively shoved back.

"You silly filly! Stallions lead, not the mares!"

"Well, well---I don't know how to follow!" It wasn't for lack of trying. Her brother had tried to teach her once, but he had never been light on his hooves, and they'd ended up crashing head-first into the victrola.

"Close your eyes."

"No way, no howdy! I don't trust you as far's I can throw ya. Ow!" She offered an apologetic smile to the mare whose rump had just collided with her own.

"Then you'll just keep bumping into things. Close your eyes."

"Nuh-uh. Yeowch!" He'd swung her, cutie mark-first, into the corner of the bar. "You did that on purpose! Y'think that's gonna make me trust you enough to dance blind?"

"Trying to teach you a lesson, my dear."

"Don't call me that. Agh! DamNAtion!"

She heard that irritating snicker again. "Oops. Clumsy me. Now close your eyes."

"NO."

"You're stubborn. I hate that." Without warning, he spun her out in an arm's-length wide twirl. Applejack's eyes were rolling in their sockets as she shot forth like a missile, but she didn't miss the other couples leaping out of her way. Her shoulder popped when she reached the limit, and then he snapped her back, clearing half the dance floor as she went. By the time she was cheek-to-cheek with him again, she was so dizzy she had to close her eyes. She didn't want to see the glares from the other dancers, anyway.

"You do that again," she panted, resting her chin on his shoulder, "and I'll geld you."

He laughed. "Oh, dear Applejack. You don't scare me. If I had a bit for every time a mare has told me that.... At least you're following now." He picked up the pace, and she struggled to keep up.

"Oh, horseapples," she muttered. "You good-fer-nothin' son of a whore."

"My, my! You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"No, I kiss YOUR mother with this mouth." Where was this coming from? She wasn't like this.

That damned annoying snicker! "Lady, you're drunk."

"Mister, you're ugly," she shot back. Then she couldn't help but add "And tomorrow morning, I'll be sober."

"Ha!" He steered her around in a quick circle. She had to admit he did dance well. "You've got some fire in you! I knew I liked you for a reason."

She rolled her eyes...or maybe that was the alcohol. "Save it, Casaneighva."

"Is that what the mares are calling me now? I see my reputation preceded me."

"Has anypony ever toldja you're insufferable beyond all belief?"

"Well, sure, but I'm suspicious of flatterers."

Finally, she laughed. It was that little hyuk that always embarrassed her. "Well, lemme tell ya somethin'---you better know how to put that silver tongue to better use."

Immediately she slapped the hoof that had been around his shoulders over her mouth. Did she really just say that?! She must have, because the foreleg around her waist yanked her in tighter and she heard a little "Mmm" in her ear, followed by "Care to find out?"

"Oooh, I am drunk as a skunk," she said to nobody in particular, feeling the blush creep up to the tip of her ears.

****

She finished the last of the mug and refilled it, spilling a little over the side. She was shaking. She was mortified. Sure, she'd gone to that bar a thousand times before. She'd even fueled up from her own private reserve a little beforehand. Okay, a lot. But it had never gotten her into trouble before. The worst that had happened was that time she'd woken up in the barn, bleary-eyed and covered in feathers for some inexplicable reason. She knew she had a tendency to be a reckless drunk---even angry sometimes---but dancing with a complete stranger? Never. Cussing him out, grinding on him, and then giggling like a strumpet as they staggered up the steps---

"Argh," she groaned. That had been another memory fragment digging into her brain. This time the missing pieces came tumbling together in a flood.

***

By the time they'd arrived at the motel door, they were both so sauced neither could work the lock on their own. They ended up mashing the key between his left hoof and her right, and together they jabbed it forward until it finally slid into the hole. Turning it proved to be even more difficult, but the door eventually swung open and they tumbled in, him over her.

"Hey! We got it open! Hyuk!" Applejack pumped her hoof in the air the way she'd seen Rainbow Dash do so often before.

"Success!" he shouted from on top of her, flailing a little.

"Teamwork!"

"Excelsior!"

"I don't know what that means!" she hollered, and they both burst out laughing.

"SHUT UP!" boomed a voice from across the hall.

They both froze. The stallion on top of her began to chuckle, and Applejack shoved him off.

"Wait," she slurred. She pointed at the direction of the door across the hall. "In't that... sounded like..."

"C'mon." He tried to heft her up over his shoulder but missed; on the way down he managed to catch her around her neck, and for a few seconds he managed to hold her, almost like a bride. Then his hind legs wobbled and they fell forward, more or less in the room.

Applejack cuffed him lightly upside the head. "Way to carry me over the altar, there, stringbean."

"You're made of solid stuff, lady." He gave her a swat on her cutie mark. "That's a compliment."

"'Solid stuff', huh? Y'mean you couldn't get loose if I did---"

With three quick, fluid motions, she had him flipped over on his belly with all four legs deftly pinned under hers.

"---this?" she finished smugly.

"Hey, now," he said, and tried to stand up... to no avail.

Applejack chuckled and leaned her weight down on him. "C'mon, stringbean! That all you got?"

"Quit calling me that." With a deep breath, he hefted and bucked beneath her, but didn't budge an inch.

"Ooh, nice try!" Laughing, Applejack flicked her tail across the door, closing it with a click. "Y'know, I'd be mighty embarrassed if I was you."

She could almost hear his teeth gritting. "Good thing you're not me."

"Damn straight."

Applejack didn't consider herself to be an especially mean pony, but a sudden, unbidden flash of wickedness shot through her. Curling her tail up and around her haunches, she brought the fluffy tip down to his ribs and teased it back and forth.

Her reward was immediate: he jolted in surprise and let out an extremely undignified shriek. "What the---?!"

"Oh, shucks," she chuckled, continuing her assault. "Y'aint ticklish, are ya?"

"No!" he lied. But when she bent her head down and began to nibble the cleft where his foreleg met his torso he gave up, throwing his head back and howling with laughter. "Okay, okay!" he managed between guffaws. "Okay, I give up! Uncle!"

The little muscles running inside her thighs were clenching in anticipation. Applejack grinned. She hadn't realized quite how much she liked seeing a stallion under her control, squirming and helpless and begging. "Huh? Sorry, didn't quite hear ya."

A faint whiff of ozone was the only warning she got before the ceiling and floor reversed positions and Applejack found herself hanging upside-down in a magical grip. Before she could protest, he unceremoniously plunked her down on the bed.

"Oh, don't give me that look," he panted. Then he winked. "You had that coming."

She righted herself and kicked the covers back. "Speakin' a' coming---why dontcha get yer butt over here, huh?" That was about as witty as she got when drunk. He didn't seem to mind, galloping over and clearing the last three feet in a leap. They fell into a tussle, laughing, and after writhing around for a few seconds Applejack managed to pin him again.

"Now no usin' magic! That ain't fair!" she barked. But she couldn't help grinding herself down against his fur, leaving a wet streak in her wake.

"Huh, so you know how to wrestle. You got a brother, right?"

"Sure do."

"So do I." And he somehow flipped her onto her back.

"I let you do that," she smirked. It has a half-truth.

He raised an eyebrow. "Did you really?"

"Yeah. So's I could do this." She tilted her head up and caught his lip between hers. When he gasped, she pushed forward---not too far, just touching his lips with the tip of her tongue, waiting. He took the hint. With a foreleg cocked around her neck, he carefully drew her in, sucking on her tongue. Applejack leaned a little to the left, letting his tongue slide into her mouth, and carefully pressed her thigh upwards til she felt the brush of something hard.

She moaned as his weight settled on top of her, pressing her into the mattress. His teeth were on her neck, his tongue tracing slow circles around her jugular. Applejack's damp tail flicked to the side. She was presenting. She couldn't help it. Blame the alcohol, the dancing, whatever---it had been a long, long time, and she was almost frantically horny. She instinctively parted her hindlegs and wrapped them around his waist, crossing her ankles and yanking him closer til they rested belly-to-belly. She glanced down.

Hot damn! He had a big cock for someone so gangly.

She didn't need to remember what happened next. Her body remembered for her. The trail of wet kisses he'd planted from her collarbone to her belly to her haunches. The way she'd clasped his muzzle between her thighs as he flickered the tip of his tongue up and down her slit. The edge of his hoof teasing her nipples as her took her folds into his mouth, slowly, one after the other. That incredibly sacrilegious cuss she'd hollered when he finally sucked on her clit. Oh, yes. She could still feel her hips bouncing up and down on the squealing bedsprings as he suckled her, only pausing the assault on her clitoris to slip a little farther down and taste her inside. Fucking Celestia, he knew what he was doing.

Applejack's face was hot as she peered down into her coffee. Oh, no. She'd begged him. She hated that. Applejack was not known for swallowing her pride. And, of course, he'd stopped what he was doing to tease her. Mercilessly. The tip of his cock was gently brushing against her wet folds, up and down, up against her tits, down against her love, and up and down and back again, until her pride shattered and she begged him again.

"Please. Please. Pleeeease." Inhale. "I need it so bad..."

And he'd given it to her, just how she'd asked for it, hard and fast and very rough. Missionary first, reverse cowgirl second, third time around was a position she'd seen before but couldn't name---and then she'd been tossed face-first into the pillows and he'd leaned over her back, mounting her properly. She'd screamed and hollered and told him to yank on her mane. He complied.

"Harder. Damn you! Harder!"

And he did. He plowed and plowed, pounding into her G-spot, his balls slapping up against her clit, making her jut her pelivs back up against his bucking hips. She closed her eyes and the world narrowed down to the sparks flying behind her clenched eyelids and the hot, hard slap slap slap against her cunt. Her body felt like molten lead. Time stretched thin like taffy. She had no idea how long they went on like that, but then suddenly she was burning, deep, deep inside----she clenched up, and then there was that first stab of white-hot pleasure, and another, and another, and then before she knew it she was shuddering and squirting all over the bedsheets, screaming nonsense. She was still gushing between her legs when her voice quieted to soft, choking moans, and she slumped down, quivering, one hindleg twitching a little from the aftershocks.

He began gently licking between her shoulderblades when she murmured "D-don't... don't s-stop..."

He paused, stunned. "What?! Didn't you just---"

"More," she groaned. "Now."

"But---"

Applejack jerked her hips forward, and felt him slickly slide out; in a flash she was on her back and had her forelegs wrapped around his shoulders. She leaned up, took just the tip of his horn into her mouth, and them flopped back down on the sweaty pillows, smirking at his shocked, lust-hazed expression.

"That was mighty respectable," she said as she guided him back in, "But I sure hope you show me what you really got in round two."

He didn't. He couldn't. She'd gone back to sucking on his horn when he tried to start her up again, and the combination of that and the tug of her slippery wet walls on his cock sent him over the edge. Applejack moaned when she felt him surging inside her.

And that wasn't the end. He'd flipped her over on the mattress and treated her to something she'd never dared attempt before: he parted her hindlegs, lifted her matted tail, and slid his horn into her dripping wetness inch by tantalizing inch.

No wonder her throat hurt. She'd screamed herself ragged.

***

From the bathroom came the gurgle of water running down the drain. His bath was done.

"Spent the whole night with him and I can't even remember his name?" she sighed as she listened to the sound of him toweling his mane. "Pathetic. Jes' pathetic."

The last muddied thing she remembered was finishing the night with a growing crescendo of howls---her first multiple orgasms!---that drew the irate attention of their neighbour across the hall. Applejack was still swooning into the coverlet when he began pounding on the door.

"Enough! I swear if you two don't shut up and let me sleep, I'll come in there and snap the damn thing off!"

"You don't have the balls," her suitor yelled back as he carefully slid out of her, his mane now wet and matted.

"Try me!" There was a half-hearted kick, but the door barely budged.

Applejack whimpered when he nipped her ear. "That sounds like a challenge," he murmured, nuzzling her sweaty cheek. "Would you care to have another go?"

"G...gimme ten minutes..." she slurred.

He threw his head back and laughed. "You can sleep now!" he shouted at the door. "I know this isn't something you'd understand, but I've gone and tired the lady out!"

Their neighbour grumbled something unintelligeable. Then...

"Thaaaaaaat's right," her stallion called out to the sound of retreating hoofsteps. "You just go back to that big, empty bed and have yourself a good night!"

Applejack quickly tried to shush him, but he waved her off. "Now don't you worry about him. He's a paper tiger, all bluster and no bite. He'll just go back to bed and sulk til morning." A smug grin crawled up his muzzle as he reclined on the pillow. "He's just sore that I got a lady and he didn't, and by golly that's the way I like it. Ha!"

"You're nuttier'n a squirrel turd," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Not at all." He tapped his forehead with his hoof. "I know how he thinks."

Applejack raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you do, do ya?"

He let his head flop to the side to face her, grinning. "Sure do! It's one of the perks of being identical."

***

She frowned, mulling over that last scrap of memory. She'd shrugged it off at the time, but now in the cold stark light of day, that word nagged at her.

"'Identical'?" she muttered. "What'd he mean, id..."

Her breath caught in her throat like a ragged peppercorn.

"....Identical twins," she whispered in horror. "Identical TWINS!"

The mug crashed to the floor as AJ jolted out of her seat, panting hard. "No," she mumbled. "No, no no no! There is no way! I didn't---! I couldn't'a---! Not after they---!"

The bathroom door creaked open and a shadow fell across the wall to her side. Applejack, her back still to him, looked at the now-familiar silhouette and swallowed. It was more like a few pained spasmings of a terribly dry throat. Every instinct in the little lizard part at the back of her brain told her to turn and bolt, but he was between her and the door.

She had no choice. Putting on her steeliest face, she turned to face the music.

"Y'want some coffee?" she said gruffly.

"I suppose, given the circumstances," Flim said, "it would be inappropriate to offer you a ride home?"