It wasn’t true that Manehattan never slept. Oh, some parts of the city were always awake, but then again, what creature with as much life, as mighty dreams as the Big Dapple, truly slumbers completely? The early morning growl of the great beast’s awakening rose swiftly to the penthouse layers, whether from offices opening and preparing for a heavy day of commerce, or staff preparing for the rise of Very Important Ponies.

Both were active in the Hamlin Building. As the morning sun kissed warmth onto the face of Juicy “Aunt” Orange, she blessed her foremothers’ thrift as well as their yearning to bring their beloved woods to the burgeoning city. Her first deep breaths of morning shifted her vast chest against the down comforter and silk sheets as she fumbled them aside, the welcome song of the adventurous birds of their rooftop enclosure drifted in.

The sweetness of the song filled her ears just as the rich scent of early morning tea made her nostrils flare; her arms trailed down below the immense pressure of her bosom to scratch at a tense itch in her belly, and drifted, softly stroking through a sudden silken leafiness-- her husband’s mane. She curled forward, toes clenching as she slipped from rest into enjoying her morning cunnilingus.

Her curvaceous body began to report in rapidly; her long right leg kicked the tangle of the sheets away to let her better claim and guide her husband’s head against the impatient, moist clench of her shuddering snatch. Her fingers clenched hard, holding on and instinctively guiding his efforts in vigorous motion; as her head rested against the bedroom wall, her broad, jiggly ass tensed in expectation, pushing her well-padded cheeks into the softness of their mattress. Wakefulness began to gallop through Juicy Orange; she felt his head dip and follow her lusty guidance, then break away, a fiery wetness and the light tenseness becoming an overwhelming urgency of sensation.

Birdsong suddenly merged with with the wet, slick noises accompanying the twisting, clenching pleasure traveling up from her core and wresting her from the last vestiges of sleep. Supported by her pillows, she upthrust her drenched cunt against the wriggling strength that fluttered swiftly within. The motion briefly spread her thick, juicy thighs away from the heavier source of warmth below. Thankfully, her right thigh couldn’t escape the massive, throbbing weight pressed against it!

Unwilling to surrender even a moment away from that questing, prodding tongue, she pivoted and locked her strong left leg over his slender yet strong shoulder, her calf and heel desperately pressing at his body, pushing him closer as she clung to his head for dear sanity. Her own song bubbled up, forcing aside a drowsy yawn, her massive rack shuddering with early morning release. She moaned out, “Uhnnn… ooh… Oh!” Her shoulders pressed further back into her pillows, her back arching and her belly contracting hard around the rolling, lightning-hot and earthquake-hard shudder of what she already knew wasn’t the first of her well-loved dawn orgasms-- and definitely wouldn’t be her last. He wasn’t done, after all.

She reclined back as the peak left her, an uncouth, undignified flop into the almost sinfully comfortable mattress and wide mess of pillows. Her left hand continued to play with that soft expanse of mane, while her right began a deeply familiar roll of her palm across a hot, stiff surface, already slick as she spread her fingers in a futile attempt to squeeze the width; she made a lazy, smug smile at the resulting passionate groan of his sleep-thickened voice between her legs. Her eyes opened slowly to the realities of their bedroom; painting-bedecked walls, corner easy chairs and lamps on one end, planning desk and miniature office on the other.

Kettle on the service, china cups in attendance. Lamps off, waiting to augment the morning brightness. Her gigantic tits occupying at least the lower quarter of her vision, pillowing out as gravity tugged them into great, circular mounds, her huge, full nipples and perpetually puffy areolae proudly capping the massive jugs. And just past that hilly expanse, the one sight she considered just as beautiful as her small clan’s orchards in full fruit: the vision of her husband’s leafy green mane bobbing back and forth between her big thighs as he went down on her with an almost coltish enthusiasm, even after all these years.

Juicy Orange, maretriarch of the Clan Orange, felt her mouth open without her conscious thought or consent; railed, as she always did, against the ludicrous expression she must be making as her tongue lolled out and her eyes rolled back. It wasn’t sleep that her eyes were seeking, nor a dream that put the flush on her cheeks and pushed a sudden gasping groan from her throat. Her nostrils flared, her left fingernails dug into the bottom sheets as she tried and failed to rise up against the invading wetness, the probing organ that deftly explored her gushing folds anew and lashed a freshly rising wave of pleasure through her soft stomach and out to every corner of her body.

“Oh! Oh-- Mosely!” she cried out her husband’s name, rising on an exclamation of his prowess but peaking on a claiming whinny. Even as she found the strength to rise, left palm sinking into the bed, the leverage to curl her body forward and grind her sloshing super-tits against his jostling forehead, her right hand founds its mark, too, and she lewdly returned the favor.

As Mosely’s tongue deftly swiped against her dewy labia, her strong, supple fingers pressed against the huge, fleshy flare of his lube-spewing prick, its seven inch wide heft hot against the soft squishiness of her inner thigh. “My dearest,” she moaned-- “Mine!” Her nails trailing just lightly over the intensely hot skin, she coaxed fresh shudders between her thighs, fresh muffled moans and most importantly, fresh waves of his heady-scented pre to coat her hide and splatter the sheets. As she drew him forth in glorious reciprocation, the plunge of his tongue into her heated cleft sent forth fresh muscle-clenching, electric ripples of pleasure throughout her body, sending her plush flesh jiggling, her back arching and her toes once more curling.

A new shuddering burst of pleasure ran through her as he found yet another way to turn her knees to jelly while forcing both nipples and her clit to steel. Her half-awakened, half-blissed out mind mumbled, Mercy, you’d think my nethers would go numb after three decades of this treatment! They definitely hadn’t, as her gasping response to a new wave rising from the dexterous rub of his upper lip against her clit’s throbbing nub. As her hand worked feverishly on his flare, jostling the three-and-a-half foot-long stretch of fuckmeat rising from her fertility archdruid husband’s groin, the trembling shudders of her body all but compelled her. She flexed her right leg hard around the stiff pole, curling the knee around his thick, throbbing medial ring and pressing her heel against his shoulder, while her left leg clutched close against his back, keeping him as close to her as she could to her burgeoning climax.

She squealed like a college mare riding her first stud, the sound rattling the china as though the kettle was freshly steaming. He always did that to her, drove the wrathful CEO and elegant Manehattanite Lady out of her with the whip of his tongue’s pleasure on her cunt, his lip’s deft tweaking of her clit almost merciless. But she had him in her clutches, and as she slammed forward and double, pressing the squishy expanse of her mountainous mammaries over his head, she took special care to grind her thick nipple and the soft flesh behind over his stiff rod, her hand sliding in a clear wave of pre back and beneath the broad expanse of the flare.

Mosely’s head arched back into the warm darkness of her enveloping cleavage. That same smooth silkiness that felt so good in her hands and cleaned up so nicely at Society dinners drove her like a series of fine floggers across her hyper-endowed and hyper-sensitive teats, prolonging the invigorating force of her climax just as his hit. She shuddered with their twined release, “My dear!”

Sadly, the fecund expanse of her breasts around her beloved super-stud’s face somewhat muffled the lovely, masculine bellow he responded with. Nonetheless, just a simple tilt of her head to the side gave her a lovely view of that huge pillar of male hardness as it erupted. The goddess-blessed throb of the veins, the huge initial wad re-thickening its already virile monstrosity of heft, the cumslit bulging out and there, that fountain, that gushing, blasting wave of sticky, thick stallion spunk splattering out in long ropes that swiftly became a geyser-offering to the very concept of male fertility. She felt a hungry pang in her belly that stirred her beyond mere nutritional needs and thought, Ah, what a lovely photograph that’d make-- if only I had a second body to take the shot with.

She unkinked herself from Mosely slowly, legs relaxing and falling to the side, forcing herself standing on formalities for just a moment before discarding decorum and dipping two fingers to scoop up a fresh dollop. Scooting her lush hips around with satisfaction, she slurped the warm, musky goo down, flicking a pinkie finger out as she guzzled it down, feeling the heated seed travel down to settle in the soft elder’s pudge of her belly, the hidden abs still strong after three children and a well-lived life.

Delicious. She reflected contentedly that even if it wasn't for the fact that her darling was inclined to be among the most ridiculously faithful stallions she'd ever even heard of, she knew she'd be able to keep her stud in her paddock. Not merely thanks to her ridiculously expansive hips and the titanic tush behind, no; her curves flowed down her long legs, never overflowing, perfectly balanced lushness to wrap around his shoulders and give him squishy caresses.

They twisted and turned together; he slid out of bed as though to reach for the morning tea, but a lofty guffaw escaped her lips as he took to his feet. Mosely wobbled damn near as much as his overbalancing dick and paused to groan out, “Ah, the wonders you work upon me, my dear.” Her lips curled into a satisfied smile; Juicy was rather smugly proud of her exaggerated hourglass figure, and especially the results it had on her husband-- much as his figure had on her. She paused to admire his lithe figure, elegant, long aristocratic ears, the slender but powerful shoulders of a lacrosse gentlecolt, not a hoofball or roanby thug. Well-built chest, toned stomach, and perhaps slightly broader than normal hips.

They had to be. Between those nice, taut thighs lay that absolutely obscene prod of his. Well-- his knee-length balls were between-- and a bit ahead-- of his thighs at the moment; his proud member, what she sometimes considered his rod of archdruiry, was actually standing up past his belly… his chest… and indeed, over his head. There were reasons that sex got complicated. Fun, though, in a delightfully earthy way that’d scandalize the old nags at power brunch, she thought as she lustfully contemplated that wobbling prick.

Not that she’d let that go unanswered with her loins still throbbing from his attentions! “The wonders I work upon you, love?” she asked. She stroked down over her bare snatch as she replied, affecting a pout. “And what about your wicked druish ways, leaving me quite worn out before even leaving bed without even bothering to satiate the atavism you enchant me with-- see?” she asked. To better demonstrate her point, she leaned her torso back over the bed, immense breasts drooping back slightly to either side of her. She swiftly hooked her heels back against the edge of the bed as she lowered her shoulders back to bump her heavy pair back towards him. Finally, shifting her crotch forward, she pinned open her soaked labia with two fingers and displaying the heated pink within, the heat that needed him still.

He gave her an arrogantly cool wink, contemplating her display with a little rumble, like a civilized thundercloud. A randy thrill shivered up her spine, jostling her breasts as Mosely grinned broadly. Mission accomplished, she thought, as he turned from any thoughts of tea. The shadow of his delectable dick once more over her, the musky scent of it making it increasingly… hard… to think proper Manehattanite Executive thoughts. “I’m afraid tending to you has quite left me all-a flutter as well, m’dear,” he said with a wink, adding, “It seems I’ll need to draw some refreshment before pouring our drinks.” He knelt down and, brutal tease that he was, simply rested his head against her quivering, squishy thigh. For the moment.

There was no long wait this time, however. He gave her that droll, impertinent grin, wrapped his arms around her knees and swiftly began to kiss and nibble at the sensitive hide of her inner thigh. His sudden tender assault drew Juicy into a near squeak that she stifled into a more dignified harumph.

She shifted, flouncing her titanic breasts and turning slightly away from him. A pretense, as though to distance herself from his deeply-desired lewdness. "My dear," she faux-objected. "One would think we were still newlywed, dear Mosely! Such adorable ardor!" She chuckled deeply and stroked her long fingers through her beloved's leafy green hair-- which felt smooth as silk, even now. The morning sounds, maids and maidstallions, aides and secretaries shuffling through the border territory of the intervening suites came muffled through the door and she sighed wistfully. Duty to the clan and corporation soon enough, she grumped, fed into the endless maw of the Manehattan beast. Why did I try to convince little Applejack this was the life, again? It was almost an unbearable call away from the lovely stud between her thighs, and...

Twitch. Every part of Juicy’s body suddenly felt alive. “Ahnnnn!" she squealed. "Ah, yes! There are some compensations,” she whimpered with pleasure. Forget barbaric coffee. Tea? A ritual, nothing more. This sensation, that heated sense of fullness from his skilled, strong tongue as it invaded her anew, this was what woke her into tingling delight. And coupled with the insane heft of his shaft forced left and out of his way, leaning against her broad breast? Hotter than the rays of the blessed sun.

Mosely barreled forward, enthusiasm and ardor seemingly renewed as it did every morning. He scooped his hands around her thunder thighs, squishing and stroking the pliant flesh back and forth between his fingers, just as his lip rolled and stroked her nigh-vibrating clit. The sheer girth of his oversized erection pounded and bounced off her leg, and she was caught by the nigh hypnotic bobble and weave of all that succulent masculinity, bouncing between her lush thigh and her vastly lusher teat. A vision of promised delight that overwhelmed her senses, nearly as compelling as his talented tongue probing against her sensitive, secret treasures.

“More!” she groaned at him. She wanted more. Lifting her groin to press ardently over her husband’s tongue, her toes dragged through the thick carpet and her heels shoved up. Her fingers once more dug little furrows into the bed as she pulled support from it, bouncing over his expert ministrations. She groaned and gasped, immense triple-Zs shaking and jiggling, their proud, hefty mass shadowing over her husband as he once more tended to his-- their-- favorite morning diversion.

As Juicy moved forward over him, the inevitable happened. With a sodden, slick slap, Mosely’s proud rod smacked in between her overhanging mega-boobs. Even as her squishy melons engulfed the fat pole, his tongue renewed its assault, swirling around inside her winking cunny. She squeezed her hands on his shoulder and tucked her arms in, grinding her breasts gratefully over his shaft as his loving laps sent jolts of pleasure through her body, compelling her toes to curl deep into the carpet once more.

Her steady moans trailed off into another shuddering gasp and uncouth but unrestrainable squeal as her personal and persistent cunnilinguist snagged her daringly naughty clit piercing and had his merry way with it. There, that! her awakening mind insisted, That, I need that! She slid her colossally curvy rump back as he dove forward, pulling him closer into her fire while driving her heaving chest forward, fingers pulling hard on his shoulders.

Precum fountained over her chest in the dark warmth between her magnificent mammaries. Mere moments later, her own juices gushed over Mosely’s eager mouth once more, and they ground together. With an agility of a mare much her junior, Juicy wrapped the plushness of her thighs around his shoulders once again, her hands slamming back onto the bed for support as she bent herself double over his rapidly jerking head. With the sloshing heat of her massive rack inches away from simply re-enveloping his head in her cleavage from her sitting position on the edge of the bed, shadowing his knelt form as he pressed himself to her needy, welcoming sex once more.

Mosely's dexterous lip deftly dipped and nudged against her stiff, throbbing clit, pulling hard at her piercing with an almost magical spiral of heat pulsing out of her clenching, almost squirting core. Juicy felt his strong tongue lap up the rivers of her honey that she unleashed in her throes, whining with need like a decades-younger mare. As he squirmed in close, fingers drawing lovely lines across the softness of her vastly flaring hips while his hefty shaft ground back and forth in her cleavage, she returned the favor ardently

She explored him in their entwining lusts, running her fingers down and around his tight-packed shoulders, playing with the still-strong muscles, her light olive hide over his pale gold. Not a warrior, her Mosely, and more fool the girls who'd skipped the chance to ask him out when they were younger as a result. Not a warrior but more than male enough for this mare-- almost too much! A fresh wave of lube burbled down his massive member like a waterfall, coating her breasts anew. As the sudden heat hit, she raked her fingernails across his upper back and gasped. "Mosely!"

So covered in her giant tits and surrounded by the walls of her luscious thighs, he couldn’t precisely respond verbally to Juicy. Instead, feet pressing back against the carpet, he demonstrated his mastery of her snatch, as his quick, flicking licks and deep, slurping tonguing drove her body to shaking and shuddering spasms of pleasure. His tongue was relentlessly deep in her snatch now, probing and prodding as though the taste of her was Elysium on his tongue; the strong, red length pressed deep into her pink, caressing and stroking along her inner walls. “Yes, dearest!” she squealed, fists curling and pounding the bed. “More, my love, make me your mare again and again!”

There was no argument from between her thighs. He forced her to tilt back again by pure amatory excess, unwinding from ripple after ripple of uncontrolled pleasure shooting up from her core. She gave up on sitting, her arms flopping back onto the bed, the right splashing into the vast pool of his prior release. Her belly trembled, powerful muscles dragging hard beneath soft pudge. Her titanic teats jiggled and wobbled endlessly as her fingers splayed out and she arched her back against the bed, crying out with unrestrained ecstasy. Her legs were around his shoulders, his neck, but they were his playthings, her multitasking, multitalented male massaging her soft plush over hidden strength. The randy bastard kept finding seemingly new ways to keep her feet kicking back and forth, heels drumming against his back. As though each bouncing thrash was another score, another notch on the bedpost.

The world began to spin and vibrate into a hazy, pleasure-fogged unreality. The morning sounds of maids and maidstallions moving around their apartment complex, three floors of luxury suites, faded slowly away. The tasteful art interspersed with pictures of offspring and relatives seemed to go dull; even the plotting table with all the lovely orange fields arranged just so, all of it seemed to fade away. There was simply Juicy and her stud, together, as they were meant to be.

She couldn’t speak; he had her, had her completely. Juicy's clit belonged to Mosely, quite specifically to his prehensile lip. When he got really excited, even for his always-amorous "morning ritual," she sometimes hazily wondered if he was earthcasting through his lip and into her clit. His lips moved and his tongue twisted just so, and there! There was that magic moment again! As though he were taking his potent mystic energies and using them just to turn her throbbing little button into a venue to spread the magics of pleasure and fertility through her, to puppet sinfully rich sensations in every part of her body. She'd never caught her feisty mate doing so, but she had dire suspicions! Dire suspicions and-- ahhhh!-- the feeling that each and every nerve in my nub is being stimulated in sequence.

But not to completion again. No, as he seemed intent to walk her up onto the bed, his proud flagpole to virility raining his lube on her, he kept her in that wild edge but not… quite… yet. Not yet that fiery orgasm that she needed so terribly, as though he were bringing her back from the dead rather than simply giving her an obscene wake up call. If for some reason, she felt that she needed to have Mosely stop-- why, he would have. Insistent, yes. Obsessed with her pussy and having her day start "right," certainly, and praise the Sun and Moon alike for that. Always considerate, though, my darling. I'm a lucky mare. Speaking of considerate…

Juicy cried out, "Please!" The crystalware of their various cosmetics and tonics and what have you rattled with the force of her plea. His tongue was so long and so close to her G-spot, but he was teasing her, his questing tongue not quite touching, while his lip threatened her with climax and then pushed away. The please, though… The please was all he needed.

She felt him surge forward, her toes and feet curling as though they’d like to completely reverse direction. The brace of his wet, strong tongue against her G. Her arms thrashing against the bed as her mane flew about it wildly. Her surrender, that was the moment. Her legs going limp, save for straining feet. When she let go of her attempts to ride or control the pleasure his tongue bestowed. Her core forcing her to arch and release, arch and release in time with that ever-prodding organ. Her own tongue lolling out to the side as she screamed his name once more.

It was her reminder she didn’t have to carry the day on her admittedly powerful shoulders, his promise: that when she was done kneecapping corporate sharks and shouting down idiot politicians-- or even if she just needed a break, she could come back to her stud, and be his. Had she thrown the pillows from the bed? Was he up on it with her, or just resting across the edge, his oversized rod divoting the mattress with its pressure? She couldn’t tell. Her vision went from hazy to utterly blank out all the sheer pleasure that was fountaining up with her. The merciless stimulation of her fluttering, winking core, as she squealed as loudly as their wedding night.

Or louder.

Eventually, Mosely finished drinking deep of her spasming, squirting sex. He moved slowly from the quim he’d conquered quite thoroughly yet again, an almost foalish smile on his face as his immense rod bounced and swayed against her. His long tongue and charming, soaked muzzle kissed their way into the softness of her plump belly, snuggling his silken hair into the titanic embrace of her triple-Zs, eliciting a small squeak from her before he spoke. "I am afraid, my dearest, that I'm rather still in need of breakfast." I’ll just bet you are, my dear old rascal, she thought.

Juicy gave a low chuckle, and for all she'd been squirting over his face a moment ago, her pussy dampened anew, soaking into the absorption spells on the mattress, but the smell lingered. "Well, we can't have the chief stud of the Orange Clan going hungry, can we?" she asked with a moan, pushing her hands against the sides of her overwhelming orbs, holding them up for his hungry delight.

Without a further word from Mosely, he wrapped his lips tightly around her shotglass-sized nipple and suckled, with greater ardency and urgency than any of their three foals. They’d raised those foals together, kept them on the straight and narrow, but here, she was succumbing, unable to limit his thirst for her while his throbbing, turgid tool bounced slowly against her other gigantic stretch of breastflesh. The dual sensations were immediate and overpowering; not only had his long term enchantments kept her natural super-tits quite sensitive and perky (for a given value of perky), she still had his tenth anniversary present.

Not that she meant the public one-- that exquisitely adorable punched tin with the diamond orange emblem was in a place of pride in her office, of course. No. The naughty one. The one that, for all its downsides, she'd chosen, begged her Fertility druid specialist husband to grant her, and still had intensely erotic dreams about.

As her hands pushed around her mammoth mammaries, rubbing them and jiggling them all the faster against her husband’s thirsty face and drooling member, Juicy groaned, and the results of that gift began to bead at the tips of her nipples, the ducts swelling lightly behind her puffy areolae, and as she pressed and pressed, great globs of the nutritious, perpetually sweet milk began to roll down the massive ZZZ cup spheres down her lover’s gulping, demanding throat, towards his amazingly thick prod. Pleasurable, always pleasurable; a cheating enchantment worked in by her dear one. Juicy couldn't starve (and thirst was no issue!), and if this had been the old days of the warring clans, she'd have been able to quite reduce the food intake requirements in hard times!

He's always so thoughtful. And speaking of hard times…

Mewling, she let out a great gasp, then found the will to speak. "I see you require that we get some milk to go with your honey, don’t you, dearest? But perhaps, my loving lord," she purred at him, “You could-- unf!-- find provender for us both?”. She'd never been the world's best singer, but she knew her husband couldn’t resist such a dulcet offer. He pulled up to his full feet again, rocking back on his heels and setting his magnificently titanic tool wobbling its distracting and demanding way again, his enormous, knee-length nuts wobbling below. She nickered at him, teasing him, daring him to take greater liberties with his maretriarch while she admired the view.

Mosely's skills with bioenhancement and prolificacy-productivity magic weren't the only reason he was Equestria's Fertility archdruid, as well as the archdruid for the Neigh York area. No, if my Mosely is to have his milk, I shall have my… cream. Her fingers reached idly out to stroke her husband’s toned belly, feeling it gurgle slightly as he planted a foot on the plush, deep carpet, and stepped back. “You tease!” she growled at him

He laughed quietly, planting his hands on his hips and waggling that delicious dick at her insouciantly once more. Framed by the light streaming through the curtains shielding their massive bay window from their rooftop garden, he winked at her. "Shouldn't I be getting the chief maid for breakfast, dear?"

She snorted and reached down to grip his seven inch wide cock-- or part of it. And all mine, dear me, yes. My reach exceeds my grasp, but not my hold. Juicy hauled back greedily on the three and a half foot long monument to virility, daring her husband to do something about it-- to do something about her. She pressed the immense rod against the titanic softness of her left breast, she ground her fat nip against the veiny surface of her stubborn stallion's gorgeous shaft. "You bring old White Glove in, dear, and I'm leaving,” she informed him. “Shan't be shared nor share, Mosely; not without a damn good contract at this point."

Mosely laughed and and kissed her on the swell of her lower breast. The light of the further-rising morning sun seemed to flow further, dappling in through the thick curtains, filling the room with almost wispy light and shades of orange. He smiled, moving in close and pushing his weight up along her and lapping up the dollops of her creamy milk as he went. "Back along the bed," he said firmly.

Juicy felt weak in the knees as his crisp, clear command struck her straight in the core of her mind and the root of her pussy. She contemplated playing more with him, but why hold off against what she wanted? My sisters and cousins wouldn't understand it at all. Be terribly against it, of course. Old-fashioned nags. Must every boss mare be a dominatrix in private, too? As though fetish and gender should be pinned together, really. Outside, she would rule them all, him included, with an iron fist. In here-- well. With his cock, she hardly needed a fist to get truly stretched. Submission it was to be!

She stretched out back along the bed, sinuously drawing her hands back along her body, bouncing her wobbling rack faster for him as she sunk back into the pile of pillows, stretching her thighs out wide. He came to her, then, as she lusted, as he promised. His strong, slender form moved along her to pin her soft, curvaceous body back against the mattress-- and that weight, that wonderful weight of his gorgeous prick fell across her, pressing a long shallow dip into her pliant teat on the one side while his head ducked hungrily for the other. Their hands clasped for a moment, and then his swept to her hips-- and hers found a happy task.

Her eyes narrowed, focusing on that broad, black member as it stroked its veiny, throbbing skin against the hot hide of her mega-melon. Fingers wrapping around the impossible breadth of all that lovely cockmeat yet again, Juicy's lip curled into a possessive smile. Eagerly, she kissed the top of her husband's immense maleness, licking it slowly, savoring the taste and savoring the gurgle of his mighty balls back between their entangled legs. She licked her lips, too, grinning saucily up at her husband. “Sausage and cream for me, honey and milk for you, dearest?”

He laughed, kissing and teasing at her broad areola, giving her little jitters and titters of delight but she wanted more-- and knew how to entice her loving lord into it. Squeezing, as any Orange should. Her fingers grabbed and rubbed at the long column, slipping along immense veins and pressing hard into stiff, sensitive flesh. Simultaneously, her legs wrapped in tighter, surrounding the engorging masses of his testes, rubbing his heady musk onto her thighs, and she was instantly rewarded by that lovely, strong growl of his, his hands moving up to seize firmly at her giant teat again and tug hard-- the hardness she wanted, against both breasts.

Still, she thought, It won’t do to let my lord think that some rough kneading and I’ll just knuckle under for this lovely shaft again, no. He has to work to own my body here. Sucking at the plate-fat flare, her tongue coiled lovingly around the slit and prenched into it lightly. Shudders ran along her body as she tasted that virile musk, the overwhelming headiness of his lube and leftover cum from before. She fluttered her tongue in around, stroking his male mix out as he had her cunt before breaking the obscene “kiss” to demand, “Mosely, use me! Please!”

That “please” again, her consent and ardor all in one, moved him like nothing else. She felt his fingers press deep into the heavy weight of her massive fifty plus pound knocker, hauling her to him. “As my dear mare requires,” he chuffed, and dove for her already dribbling teat As his lips locked around her milky-heavy left nipple and her breath lashed hot over her beloved's super-shaft, she squealed hard.

As he dove for her mountainous breast, his legs tangled with hers and fingers pressing deep furrows into her breast as he pulled it demandingly up to his lips. She in turn battened onto his huge cock, cradling it in the thick expanse of her teat, her hands gripping solidly. She took a whiff, and began to slurp like a madmare while his heady lube poured out for her waiting gullet. If anything, she could swear that his scent and taste got all the stronger every year-- and all the more every time his gigantic nuts put a fresh foal in her eager belly.

The thought made her shudder, even as he rocked his body against hers. Each morning, just like this, she sucked hard at the fertile flow of his flare, remembering the last time he’d swelled her belly out with his cum, not for mere hours, but when he’d made her fat and swollen with his progeny, with their children. And we still can… He has the power to make it so, even now! Excited all the more, she whickered at him, shifting her chest up to encourage him to play as he would at her right nub and the teat beyond it, his expert hands leaving traces pleasure like the most magical of infusions anyway.

Now, though, was the time to plump her belly out from a different direction, same wildly wide erection. Her hands both concentrated on urging further flow from her sweet stud's heavy shaft, wrapping the sag and squish of her still mostly-perky but impossibly soft melon around the upper part of his cock, as though her breast's warmth could enfold him as much as her sheath below. Her strong legs held her for his thrusts, for their mutual pleasure, and cradled the monstrous obscenity of his heavy, full scrotum between them. She kept steady pressure of her nipple against the heated, throbbing surface of his wondrous prick, the extra pressure sending her milk pouring down his shaft to be smished around as though it were being covered by her honey beneath; and then, as the pleasure from that grew, he locked his clever lips around her left nip, and sucked.

She gasped and whimpered, fingers clutching as she fervently ground her right mound against that lovely shaft. Still, hungrier than any five foals, he greedily drew forth her left’s sweet, hot cargo. Milk poured into her husband's mouth, her favorite way of giving him his favorite treat. Her feet extended fully, pointing away while her toes clenched, and she let out a howl of pleasure.

Mosely looked up from his demanding nursing and winked at her, groaning out, “Delicious as ever, darling.” Before she could pout at the sudden lack of breast-induced ecstasy, he returned to slurping up her thick cream and she focused on wrapping her everything around him. Juicy clung to him, shifting up from his virile testes with only some regret, loving the thud of them against the mattress, and squeezing the soft-padded luxury of her legs around his taut, hard body. As he picked up the pace, quivers and shudders ran all along her form as she felt that tight-packed body she loved so much grinding and thrusting within her plush embrace. She let out a series of well-satisfied groans and then wrapped her lips around his flare, licking her tongue hungrily for the precum gushing around the fertile slit.

He was thrusting again, scooping his hands beneath her giant underboob to keep it with him, his whole body moving against her as he drilled her on the bed. Cunning old fucker, she thought half incoherently, hardly able to worry about her own internal lapse of decorum; he’d clamped his right leg against the edge of the bed as she held on tight for dear lust. He found the leverage, pounding her face with his pulsating, veiny-heavy, pre-spewing cock as she eagerly sucked down lube and musk alike, squeezing his shaft completely into a tunnel of her titanic ZZZ-cup teat.

Juicy’s ears were ringing, body-wide shivers of unrelenting sensation driving the world away yet again. Sounds were overwhelmed. Was she howling onto his cock? Was he grunting into her breast? Well-- the latter, she could tell still, at least. The heated slam of his supersized shaft into her left knocker’s embrace, and the gasping shudder Mosely panted into her heaving right mega-melon was intensely pleasurable, shocking her whole body as her drenched cunt clenched-- and errant thoughts or anything else in the room except this moment and her stallion were completely eradicated from her consciousness for a long string of squealing and climaxing moments.

Instead, their bodies moved together in joyous harmony, his tongue and teeth lightly teasing at the terrifically sensitive nub in between slurps. He neglected nothing of her. His hands moved wildly, caressing hips, squeezing thighs, everywhere. Abruptly, his fingers were on her needy clit, tweaking lightly, rubbing swiftly, manipulating her little decoration around to further unleash pleasure throughout all of her, his huge cock warm, almost burning surrounded by her soft, squishy titflesh. She felt her milk splurge out both sides now, the magical potency reacting to her husband's uncanny virility; for all that she would surrender none of his delicious lube, he was still slick in the enclosure of her folded-over teat.

Sweat pouring from her body, she found a brief moment of coherence in between the body-wracking climax he forced through her. "Earth and fire, Mosely!" she cried out, and then dove back to lewdly slurping up every drop of precum, every dollop of slickness she could manage. She could feel the thickening in his already obscene shaft-- better yet, could feel the savage weight of his balls swelling out between their entangled, outstretched thighs; it was depressing the entire mattress back behind him!

Even as Mosely filled his belly with the delicious, creamy splashes of her milk, she eagerly pushed his pleasure with her tongue and titanic tit alike. Her own zealous delight reflected through the electric tingling through the responsive flesh she pushed and dragged around his overwhelming dick. Neither of them had precisely the same talents as a full hyper, and yet-- she felt the delicious sensation of her jaw distending, flesh moving in obedience to her lover's sheer mass. Forcing her head forward, she bounced the choking girth off the back of her throat.

You like that, don't you, my horny, primal stud? You like hearing me gurgle and feeling my throat trying to gobble down dick and gasp down air, filled only with more cock and more musk… She threw the sheets completely away onto the far end of the bed, squirmed around in the depression she’d left over the night and sucked hard.

Juicy wasn't sure if she had ever stopped cumming throughout the entire affair, but her husband's pretty prick was nearing it; she could feel the fertility flow into him, the grand divinity of the wilds that he served rewarding him for that service. And rewarding me for the servicing… She growled around the mastering member and… there.

It was his turn to gasp, his turn to throw back his head. His turn to roar out her name, that lovely shout of "Juicy!" at the top of his lungs. She could hear it, she was always sure, seed and sperm gurgling and mixing together as she definitely felt first Mosely’s already gigantic balls fill and swell to accommodate his orgasmic preparations-- and then the surge of hit, his ludicrously virile girth pushing from cunny to belly to breast to-- her. To her waiting lips and well fucked throat.

My breakfast, part one, my matronly figure to retain. That smug thought was the last clear moment before Mosely's climax almost fucked her back to sleep, or at least into such a full-body haze of bliss that she couldn't tell the difference between the waking world and Luna's domain. She wanted to just close her eyes, pull Mosely up until he was completely covering her, better than the best comforter, and go back to a gentle, sticky slumber. It was quite a good thing that her dear lovey started his morning ritual a little early.

A sharp whistle steamed out, and a fresh bergamot smell wafted over the fading scent of their mutual sex as Juicy found her way back to full consciousness. She groaned, stretching and swishing her tail as she felt the cool cloth over her back. Opening an eye she peered back at Mosely, her smile broad as she watched him clean the sweat and mingled fluid from her body. He might be most cavalier with his maretriarch’s person, but he does so love taking care of me. Yawning, she said, “Mmm. Final stage of preparing your boss mare for the day?”

He guffawed lightly and nodded, grabbing her lounging robe as he stood. “Mm, indeed, darling. We may have gone a little bit long; I had to put the reheater on the tea.”

Smirking, Juicy rose as well and slipped her arms into the robe before stroking the still-immense mass of his softening shaft. “It’s never just a little long with you, dearest,” she told him with a laugh, and shook her rump like a college filly when he spanked her, a rosy red glow to start her day of kicking others’ asses.