Applefarts

>Rarity panics under applejack's thick ass cheeks, rendering her physically helpless to the onslaught of fragrant bursts of her friend's anal air

>she can't even articulate a coherent plea to try reasoning with her friend, especially underneath her hindquarters

>every last dry release of gas feels more powerful than the last against her delicate face

>more audible by the sounds of it, too

>dreadfully fearing the possibility to suffocating to death (believing any thought that'd enter her mind in the moment), Rarity unwillingly inhales a few potent whiffs through her sensitive pony nose to keep herself from blacking out under her Applejack's wide behind

>it smells like rotten cabage with a hint of spoiled cheese

>with a crisp after-odor of apples clearly detectable

>Applejack's hot air expels from her tight ponut hole all over her unicorn victim's once clean, beautiful face

>her hair is now saturated with country ass stink

>her makeup? what isn't smeared all over Applejack's sweaty butt cheeks remain smudged and warped all over Rarity's face

>even when the terrible barrage is over, the poor unicorn finds that she's still radiating the fragrance herself... almost as heavily as ever

>her mane is in a terrible, mangle mess

>sweet celestia, what would ponies think of her if she tried going back home in this condition?

>what would her other friends think?!

>Rarity curls up against Applejack, knowing she could find comfort in her friend even if she was her attacker, and begins bawling quietly

>"Ah told y'all to keep those comments about my stahnk to yerself, sugercube... Ah ain't one tah make idle threats to anypony without the intent to act on it if prahvoked!"

 

-

 

>Applejack trots into the barn to find you laying in a rather comfortable little pile of hay awaiting her

>she flashes you a smile, and the most alluring set of bedroom eyes you may ever get the pleasure of experiencing

>her gut seems noticeably (albeit only slightly) thicker than usual, and by the loud bellowing coming from it's depths; you can tell her bowels are ready to burst from the pressure

>"Now, y'all just make yerself nice 'n comfy, and ah'll do the rest."

>the sweet country girl gives your forehead a kiss, before turning herself around to assume position

>do as you're told, laying down with your head against a moderately thick pile of hay

>She cautiously steps back a few step, waving her tail in your face happily

>the stray hairs tickle your nose

>her flank is even bigger up close

>wide, thick and - from what you could tell only by sight or smell alone; sweaty.

>she rests on top of your face

>the pressure is overwhelming at first, before she finds a way to rest against her own hindlegs, to keep from smothering/crushing your head

>her thick horse anus was now aligned directly in the mid-point from your mouth and nose

>"Y'all, uhhh, sure yah want tah go through with this, sugarcube..?"

>you can tell by the faint rush of warmth in his rear she was probably blushing. her ever-humble tone suggested the same.

>in response; you give the outer wall of her bitter sweet butthole a kiss

>she barely contains the cutest little giggle under her breath

>"Alrighty... If yer that committed, then..!" She responds with a hint of glee, straining herself with that last word

>suddenly; a hot burst of thick, almost steamy ambrosia pours out into your mouth, up your nose and every other direction it can go

>Sweet celestia, what has this mare been eating?

>the smell is of rotten fruit... laced with the pungent odor of garlic, giving it almost a skunk-y scent with the distinct apple flavor you'd only get from one mare

>she nuzzles her warm butt against your face, your cheeks pressed up against her own

>even with all your will, it's difficult to take a whiff of the thick cloud of ass fumes. there's so little room to breathe much else, after all.

>you hug the mare's waist and in almost no time, your... package becomes quite noticeably to the apple farmer.

>Applejack tries to contain her giggling, but it hardly made a difference after the first half-a-chuckle becomes audible

>"It's alright, sugarcube. You can unzip, if yah like."

>she lovingly nuzzles her snout against your bulging crotch

>you can hear more gas building up inside her

>exhale as much as you can, reading to expose yourself to the full impact of the blast

>you hastily try unfastening your pants as a barrage of audible poppers explode in your face, radiating the most heavenly fowl stench you this mare has produced thus far

>reeking of spoiled, cabbage-y produce; the farm mare's sick stench blows into your mouth without any resistance, and up your nostrils just as quickly

>she strains herself, pushing out an even longer string of gaseous bombs in your face

>the pressure grows greater with each passing moment

>every other bubbling stinker pushes out louder than the last

>you can't take it anymore

>relentlessly begin jerking off

>clothes already saturated in precum

>you can feel Applejack's piercing glare at it

>it's embarrassingly feeble compared to the average stallion's package, but it's practically common knowledge to be able to trust AJ with such details

>she tries keeping one going

>it becomes more an more audible as she pushes it out

>The heat from the blast alone in unbearable. The same could be said about the smell, if you weren't so deeply enthralled with it's sexual gratification

>you peak

>cum all over AJ's cute freckled face

>she continues farting as you yourself begin spewing your essence, and when it naturally cuts off, she begins to stop

>dick still pouring out cum

>AJ moans under her breathe with a tone of disgust, with twinge of shame. mostly for you.

>you now fucking reek of the contents of a pony's asshole. your face especially is saturated in Applejack's ass sweat, leaving you with a rather greasy complexion

>zip up pant

>enormous cum stands all over your clothes

>The cute country mare leaves you on your own to clean up, yet and yet the smell still lingers strong as ever... Is it really all coming from you?

>you hear something rustling behind a haystack

>investigate

>Oh god, it's Rarity. What's happened to her?

>she's just waking up... apparently, she managed to sleep through that shitstorm

>her nose scrunches up in disgust

>notices you

>She lets out a rather incoherent noise of disgust, but she's far too tired and groggy to be as polite as she'd like to be

>notices your cum stains

>first by it's odor

>all you could offer in response is an awkward smile as your face turns bright red

>still far too tired to maintain her 'ladylike' status, she simply pushes over a little, giving you some room to snuggle with her

>curl up next to her

>rub your smelly ass-scented cheek against her own

>fall asleep with her in your arms

>and you in her's