Anon’s alarm clock blared, jarring him from what was a particularly restful slumber. Grumbling to himself, fumbling to silence the infernal contraption, he checked the time. As if the predawn darkness outside wasn’t telling enough, the illuminated 4:00AM cemented the early hour. With a dull groan, he threw his legs out from under the blankets and got up.

His life had been full of a few twists and turns, amongst which was winding up in a land of magical, anthropomorphic horses, although he’d found his newly acquired work hours harder to adjust to. The friendly, equine people of Equestria were a welcome departure from the vitriol and omnipresent discontent of earth, and his job did pay enough to pay the bills, so he saw no reason to complain too much about his new homeland. Morning routine aside, he actually enjoyed the work.

Loping off to the bathroom, Anon began his day. Hopping into the shower, to simultaneously wash and brush his teeth, it only took him a few minutes to get washed up. Once he’d dried off, he slipped a polo shirt, slacks, boxers, and started putting on his socks and shoes. His job didn’t have any strict dress code, yet he thought it only reasonable to try and look decent.

Shortly after being welcomed by the astoundingly amiable and accepting denizens of Ponyville, he’d been offered employment at a local bakery called Sugarcube Corner. The job came with a number of benefits: the apartment he’d procured was within walking distance of the joint, he regularly got to take home freshly made goodies, and he’d actually learned how to make something other than instant ramen! There were a few other perks, but that’s where things started to get complicated.

The bakery was owned and operated by a married couple, Mr. and Mrs. Cake, and they began work six days a week before the sun had risen. Getting used to waking up early wasn’t the easiest thing to get used to, although he had a reason to be motivated. Mrs. Cake, who always took the first shift, was a downright enchanting creature and motherly to a fault.

Relatively seasoned by many standards, the mare was well into middle age. Demure, doting, and extraordinarily kind, she’d raised two foals with her husband and essentially fostered a third child with Pinkie Pie. She was the one who gave him his first meal in Equestria, helped him find his apartment, and offered him a job at her bakery. Beyond her benevolence, she was damn easy on the eyes.

Standing roughly a head shorter than himself, Mrs. Cake was covered in a light cerulean coat of fur. Her mane and tail, each of crimson hues, were always well kept in a curled style. The colorful aesthetic she sported, while a bit odd, was utterly eclipsed by her figure. She was, by no small margin, one of the hottest women he’d ever laid eyes on.

Shaking himself from his thoughts and locking up after himself, Anon strolled through the cool morning air to the bakery. Before he knew it, under the stars in the dimly lit sky, he was at his destination. Walking around the back of the structure, on the opposite side of the building from the public entrance, he let himself inside and announced himself.

“It’s just me,” Anon called, opening the door and finding the storeroom vacant.

The smell of pastries and fresh bread was pervasive, filling the bakery even outside of normal business hours. Grabbing his apron, hung beside the exit, he quickly donned the article while walking past the pallets of flour and racks of ingredients. As he poked his head through the archway leading to the kitchen, he found the mare measuring out some weight of sugar.

Plump and exceedingly curvaceous, Mrs. Cake was one bombshell of a big, beautiful woman. Sporting an ass like the backend of a dump truck, and a rack which would put many porn stars to shame, she had just the right amount of pudge to flawlessly pull off the MILF look. It didn’t help much that most of her attire was a bit too small for her, or the fact that she was married, but Anon found her bewitching all the same.

Adorned in a skirt, blouse, and apron, the mare turned and smiled over at him. “Good morning, Deary! I hope you’re doing well today!” she asked, pausing to greet him.

“Doing fine, Mrs. Cake,” he responded, tying the apron behind himself. “So, what’s on the agenda today?”

“Oh, I’m afraid it’s going to be a busy one! We have an order of five dozen cupcakes for the Friendship School’s graduation, on top of the daily products for the shop,” she muttered, grabbing a case of eggs. “I put on a pot coffee upstairs,” she continued, gesturing towards a doorway at the front of the shop, “feel free to go get yourself a mug.”

Her offer of fresh coffee, while inviting, spurred him to action. “I will, after we get this batch in the oven,” he grunted, stepping beside her and checking the order. Standard yellow cake cupcakes with buttercream frosting - easy enough, albeit in a vast quantity. “I’ll start on the icing.”

Proceeding back to the larder, he fetched a two pound block of butter from the fridge and some milk. Trotting back into the kitchen, depositing the ingredients by the stand mixer, he made a second trip to grab confectioner’s sugar and vanilla extract. In a matter of moments, the man and mare were busying themselves.

It had taken some getting used to, but Anon quickly got the hang of working in a kitchen. There were only ever two of them in there, before the shop opened, so they only had to worry about bumping into one another. Finishing with the frosting, he set upon several of the standard items the bakery kept in stock.

The pair were a symphony of motion, oftentimes working in concert to move or prepare items. Like many others, the morning flew by in a flash. After roughly two hours of their combined efforts, the ovens and proofer were full. Having earned a brief respite, they decided to reconvene at the register to give themselves a well deserved break. After ferrying the order of cupcakes onto a table beside the counter, the two briefly parted ways.

Anon plucked a duo of steaming blueberry scones from a display rack, while Mrs. Cake had gone upstairs to get them each a cup of coffee. They wouldn’t have all morning to dither about, since the shop would be opening in less than an hour, but there wasn’t much left to do for nearly thirty minutes.

Placing the pastries on a napkin atop the counter, Anon’s turned towards the sound of approaching footfalls. Tiptoeing down the stairs, the mare reappeared with a steaming mug in each hand. Sweat beaded her brow, and moistened the back of her top, although he wasn’t in much better shape; given their pace and the heat from the ovens, he was perspiring a bit himself.

“Here you go!” she chirped, handing him a mug. Setting her coffee cup down, she undid the top button of her top and fanned herself.

Anon faltered, as he went to take a sip of his java. Peering over at Mrs. Cake’s bosom, at the titillating view of her abundant cleavage, he swallowed hard. She had to be a E or maybe even an F cup. Though it only felt like he’d caught a fleeting glimpse, the sound of a clearing throat drew his attention upward.

“You keep staring like that and you’ll make an old mare blush,” Ms. Cake chuckled, dismissively waving a hand at him.

Having been caught, Anon’s cheeks darkened. “S...sorry,” he mumbled, averting his gaze.

“Oh there’s no need to apologize, Deary! I’m just surprised you’d be as interested as you are!” she laughed, blowing on and taking a sip of her coffee.

“Are?” Anon parroted, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t think I haven’t caught you looking before? Anon, I might not be a spring chicken but I’m not that oblivious,” she sighed, setting her mug down. “I’m flattered, trust me, but a young stud like you should be out there looking for a nice, young mare, not some old dame like me.”

The revelation that she realized he’d occasionally slipped lustful glances was one thing, but the bluntness of her statement struck Anon like a gong. While he’d seen and met a number of the less aged mares about town, none of them struck his interest - sure, they were nice and all, yet not one was exactly what he was looking for. Shaking his head, he nibbled his pastry.

“Eh,” he disinterestedly snorted, “I’ll pass. I haven’t met any that are my type.”

“Well what is your type?” she asked, turning to face him.

For the second time in less than a minute, she got right to the point. Put on the spot, Anon shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, maybe one who’s got a little meat on her bones and common sense in her head. I mean, most of the girls around here like to go out on adventures, party, or travel a lot. I’d like to find a pleasant woman who knows how to relax and enjoy the little things.”

“Hmmmm,” Mrs. Cup hummed, thoughtfully rubbing her chin. “I can’t say I know many who fit that bill, outside of possibly Mayor Mare. Well, if you find yourself getting a little too wound up, I don’t see the harm in helping you blow off a little steam.”

The nonchalance of her comment caused Anon to choke on his scone, leaving him to cough uncontrollably. “E...excuse me?” he croaked.

“You know,” she began, stepping closer to playfully elbow his side, “fool around a little bit.”

“But you’re married!” Anon sputtered, scarcely believing his ears.

“Dearie,” she murmured, affectionately patting his hand, “my husband has some sweet little thing in our guest bed at this very moment. So long as it’s all in good fun, there’s no harm in it - still, I can’t say I’ve had someone showing interest in me in quite some time.”

“W...How not?” he stammered incredulously.

Mrs. Cake shrugged and smiled wistfully into her coffee. “Well...It’s just that most younger guys don’t think I’m as attractive as I used to be. I was a bit heavy before I had the twins, but now it’s even more noticeable,” she groused, pinching at her belly. “What with all the other mares running around in town, I can’t blame stallions for passing on an overweight -”

“Just stop,” Anon interrupted. “First and foremost, you shouldn’t talk down about yourself like that; secondly, I think you’re attractive as all get-out and, if I was your husband, I wouldn’t have any need to go fooling around with anyone else.”

His outburst apparently struck a chord, as Mrs. Cake held a hand to her chest. Wide eyed, staring him dead in the face, her jaw flapped for a moment. “Really…?” she murmured, rubbing her thighs together.

“Yeah, really,” he asserted, stepping forward and gently clasping one of her hands between his own.

Besides her spouse’s extramarital activities, Anon found it galling that she’d hold such a low opinion of herself - what made it worse was that she was just a sweet, caring woman.The thought that she’d gone neglected, while Mr. Cake went out and had fun without her, really chapped his ass and he was going to make good and damn sure she knew it. If she was his, he’d be more than happy to give her with all the loving she could ever want.

“Hell, if you were single, I’d be doing everything I could to woo you,” he admitted, smiling tenderly down on her.

A blush crept across her face, as she peered up into his eyes. “Anon, I -”

The bell on the front door chimed, startling the pair and causing them both to flinch. Turning towards the entrance, Mrs. Cake inadvertently knocked a receipt pad and cup of pens from the counter. Anon, noticing the items fall behind the storefront partition, reflexively knelt down to retrieve the supplies. Whoever had seen themselves in had either ignored or didn’t care about the bakery’s business hours.

On his hands and knees, Anon was unable to see who the customer was, although he quickly got his answer. As he picked pens and pencils from the floor, rummaging under the furniture to retrieve any of the wayward writing instruments, he heard a pair of footsteps approaching. Glancing upward, towards his employer, he froze.

Given his positioning, as well as the relative shortness of Mrs. Cake’s skirt, he was treated to a picturesque view of her snow white panties. The imprint of a ripe, fat camel toe was unmistakable, giving him a moment for pause. Aside from the sight of her undergarment and barely concealed marehood, he noticed something even more provocative - the mare was positively drenched.

It was possible that a good bit of the moisture on her panties was from sweat alone, although what flesh he could see, beneath the thin fur of her nethers, was rosy and engorged. The notion that he’d inadvertently gotten her turned on, simply by admitting his attraction to her, set a stirring in his loins. Drawn to her, acting on impulse, he reached up, caressed her thigh, and set off an unfortunate series of events.

The mare jumped and lost her balance, taken completely off guard by his gentle touch. Stumbling to her right, knocking Anon onto his side and into the hollow area beneath the counter’s surface, she barely managed to catch herself - fortunately she did, however it left the man in a rather precarious situation. Righting himself, moving to escape, he heard the footfalls come to a stop.

“Good morning, Mrs. Cake! I hope you don’t mind that I’m a little bit early, but I wanted to run as many of the errands as I could first thing today!” a mare chipperly noted. It almost made him think that it was…

“Oh it’s no problem, Twilight! We just finished up with them,” Mrs. Cake commented from above, shuffling slightly.

Situated as he was, Anon found himself in quite the pickle. The only way he could get out from under the counter would be to get Mrs. Cake to move, although that might prove problematic; the act itself wouldn’t be difficult, but having Twilight see him scamper out from under the island would likely raise a few questions and/or eyebrows. Resting back on his heels, in a deep squat, he resigned himself to wait - that was, until a delicate aroma tickled his sinuses.

Closing his eyes and fixating on the scent, he sniffed the air. The smell, whatever it was, was vaguely reminiscent of some sort of a delicate citrus. They hadn’t made anything with oranges or grapefruit that morning - so it couldn’t be that. Blindly drifting towards the source, a subtle warmth graced his face. Peeking out, as the bouquet grew stronger, he discovered its source.

His face hovered a scant few inches from Mrs. Cake’s groin. Pressed against the counter as she was, her skirt was drawn up ever so slightly to give him an even better view of her crotch. Unintentional or not, the sight sent blood pumping right to his manhood. He couldn’t remember having been so turned on before and, in a moment of weakness, better judgement waned.

The sound of the two mares chattering was drowned out, becoming little more than background noise, as he shifted in place. Slipping his nose under the hem of her skirt, he inhaled sharply and flooded his nostrils with her musk. The fragrance of her sweat and marehood called to him, causing his lustful urges to overpower his good, common sense. Without hesitation, he pressed his face against her loins.

“Oh jeez!” Mrs. Cake exclaimed, her legs going rigid.

“Is everything alright?” Twilight asked, doubtlessly having noticed the baker start.

“I...I’m fine, I j...just remembered there’s something I’ll have to take care of...” the elder mare stammered.

The remainder of their conversation was lost to Anon, as he kissed the plump mound of flesh. It wasn’t like he’d ever done anything with a mare before, so he couldn’t be absolutely positive, but given the heat and humidity radiating from her nethers, he was left to assume she was pretty worked up. His hand shot to the undergarment and pulled it aside, allowing him better access to her goods.

Succulent and delectably juicy, her marehood was everything he could have ever dreamt of - sure, it wasn’t the optimal situation to ogle her snatch, since he could only see a portion of it, yet it was simply perfect. Languidly drawing his tongue up her inner thigh, towards her glistening lower lips, he clandestinely set upon her meaty snatch.

Holding her panties to the side, he lavished her as best he could. There was no resistance, no signs of retreat, although her legs did tremble slightly. Reaching to his waist, with his free hand, he fought to unzip his pants. It wasn’t like he’d planned on getting himself off or anything, yet the growing discomfort of his restrained erection became too much to bear. Freeing his struggling manhood, he slowly stroked his rigid length.

Anon scarcely noticed the sound of ignited magic, nor the lack of talking from above, while he surreptitiously serviced his boss. It was only when she moved, stepping backward and robbing him of her slickened crotch, did he realize what was going on. Peering upwards, he found her glaring down at him.

Without saying a word, Mrs. Cake turned away and stomped into the kitchen. With her cooling juices dripping from his chin, he watched her flee. He’d caved to his carnal wants, more than likely pissing off his employer, and making a colossal ass of himself. Flirting with her was one thing, but stealthily eating her pussy while she was dealing with a customer was another.

Scrambling out from beneath the counter, he got to his feet and gave chase. “Mrs. Cake, wait!” he cried, desperately trying to stuff his dick back into his pants. Rounding a corner into the kitchen, he skidded to a halt.

Standing at the far end of the room, with her back to him, Mrs. Cake bent over and drew her moistened panties down her legs. As if the sight of her bare ass wasn’t compelling enough, watching her wiggle out of the undergarment was profoundly seductive. Kicking her knickers to the side, she chuckled.

“Mister,” she hummed, beckoning him over, “if you’re going to do a job, you may as well do it properly.” Arching her back and splaying her legs, she presented herself.

Anon’s heart skipped a beat, peering on her slavering marehood. Stepping over to her, as if in a trance, it only took him a moment to close the gap between them. Kneeling in supplication, he rested his hands on her hips, leaned in, and buried his face in her sex. Despite the rather striking turn of salacious events, he was hardly going to pass on the opportunity to get some action.

Eagerly setting himself upon her, not unlike a starved hound, he ravenously lapped at her marehood. The feel of her pillowy buns to either side of his face, her natural perfume filling his lungs, the tangy flavor of her arousal on his taste buds - the all out assault on his senses was intoxicating. Without a care in the world, he dined upon her silken folds and shamelessly undid his pants.

Rocking herself back, grinding herself against him, Mrs. Cake groaned contentedly. The fact that she was actually enjoying his ministrations elevated the experience to an entirely new level. On his knees, worshiping what was possibly the most attractive woman he’d ever had the good grace of meeting, he stroked his turgid shaft.

The sensation of her winking around his lips, feeling her clit upon his tongue, pushed him to the brink of madness. Hastily unclasping his belt and undoing the button of his slacks, he pushed himself up. “I...I’m sorry,” he groused, fighting with his pants, “I...I really need to -”

“Dearie,” Mrs. Cake interrupted, peering over her shoulder at him, “if you think I haven’t been dying to get some action from a young stud like you, you’d be dead wrong. Now be a good boy and give it to me rough.”

With the brazen admission, she reached back, pressed her chest to the wall, and pulled the cushioned cheeks of her tush apart. Damn near stumbling out of his pants, Anon quickly disrobed from the waist down. Stepping behind her, he grasped the base of his tool and drew the tip of his manhood up and down her glistening sex. While he fought with the notion of teasing her, she whimpered needily.

Bringing his head to her entrance, he slowly ground into her. Hot, snug, and astoundingly inviting, her velvety embraced inch after inch of his length. Taking his time, allowing them both to savor the experience, he delved deeper. It was only after most of his shaft had wormed into her that he met some resistance.

Mrs. Cake shuddered, as his glans pressed against her womb. Glancing downward, noticing that only the barest fraction of his cock was outside her blissful confines, he sunk his fingers into her broad, foal-bearing hips. She peeked back at him and gave a subtle nod, erasing any reservations that he should begin.

Withdrawing from her, feeling her marehood cling to his escaping manhood, he freed nearly half of his cock, before slamming it back into her. As his waist impacted her backside, the soft flesh of her rump jiggled. His first gentle thrust was met by a second, then a third and forth, before he was steadily humping her from behind.

“G...goodness, you’re so big,” she moaned, her eyelids fluttering.

Closing her eyes, she hung her head and braced herself against the wall. While it was wildly inspirational, knowing that she was impressed with his size, he wanted to see her face. Slowing, he stooped down and ran one hand down her right thigh. Grasping her knee, in a show of herculean strength, he lifted her leg and shuffled forward.

The move sandwiched her between the wall and himself, while leaving her totally at his mercy. With her cheek turned towards him, he gradually increased his pace. It wasn’t the easiest position to rail out a woman of Mrs. Cake’s heft, although the view of her gorgeous face was well worth the effort.

“Sweet Celestia, I can’t - Mmmph?!” whatever she was about to say was cut off, as Anon leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

Holding her leg aloft, rhythmically pounding into her, his tongue crept into her mouth. The mare instantly reciprocated, making out with the man while he thrust into her. Their breath mingled, their passion soared, and their bodies moved in tune. After a fleeting moment, he pulled his head away.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered, gazing into her brilliant magenta eyes.

A knowing smile met her lips, as she slammed her waist back to meet his plunges. It was odd - though he was plowing her in the kitchen of her bakery, she hadn’t blushed that hard until that moment. Inspired, pining to bask in her beauty, he slowed.

Wrestling control of his body from his primal urges, he stepped back and dragged his shaft from her snatch. A questioning look crossed her face, as she looked over at him. It was only when he began untying her apron that she got the hint. Standing straight, she hurriedly undid the buttons of her blouse.

In a matter of seconds, the mare’s voluptuous body was laid bare. She was everything he’d imagined and more; soft, supple, inviting, the gorgeous body of a superb mother. As he pulled his shirt up and over her head, she stepped over to the work bench and rested her rear against its edge. Tossing his polo aside, he turned to face her.

“If I’d known you were this into mares like me,” she purred, reaching for a nozzled can, “I would have done this ages ago…” Reclining onto her back, allowing her titanic bosoms to part on her chest, she squirted a dollop of whipped cream on one of her deliciously pink nipples.

Moving to her, Anon gently lifted her legs and stepped between them. Resting her ankles on his shoulders, he brought his throbbing dick to her marehood and plunged inside. Unlike before, he wasted no time in starting. They both wanted - no, they needed it and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to give her the best performance he could muster.

Draping himself over her belly, while he began plowing her, he latched onto her teat. Suckling upon the tender bud, her whimpers of delight were like a symphony. His hands wandered over her, caressing her side, thigh, and free bosom, as his tongue flicked the whipped cream from her nipple.

“H...harder,” she huffed, moving her legs off his shoulders.

Pausing to lift his arms, allowing her to lock her legs around his waist, he suckled on her heaving breast. Twisting and pinching her free teat, something moist graced his fingers. Glancing to the side, seeing a weak dribble of milk leaking from her breast, his lust roared into an inferno.

Though she was effectively pinned to the table, Mrs. Cake did what she could to reciprocate. Bucking up to meet his plunges, pulling him to herself with her legs, she matched every ounce of his zeal. Seasoned mother or not, she still had marish needs - needs which he was more than happy to indulge.

Angling his thrusts ever so slightly, he accosted her g-spot. His efforts were rewarded in a flash, as she mewled whorishly and writhed beneath him. Though he couldn’t be sure when the udder-like teat in his mouth had begun lactating, he found the warm, rich beverage flowing over his tongue. Gulping down a small mouthful, peeked up at her.

“D...don’t stop,” she croaked, running her hand through her mane.

The humble request sent Anon into overdrive, causing him to rut her with everything he had. Jackhammering into her, her body jostled and swayed with the impetus of his pounding hips. Save for their heavy breaths and the sound of their bodies colliding, the room was still and silent.

Freeing his mouth, resting his head between her jostling breasts, Anon breathed hotly upon her. Given the unexpected turn of events, and the fact that he found her as attractive as he did, his endurance was tried and found woefully lacking. Though his motions didn’t slow, the unstoppable signs of his release grew ever nearer.

“I...I’m close,” he grunted.

“Inside!” she wailed, holding his head to her bosom. “I need it inside.”

Fucking her with reckless abandon, having been given the green light, Anon valiantly staved off the inevitable. Gritting his teeth, he teetered on the brink. He’d desperately hoped that he could outlast her, though the thought was laughable. For a mare with her level of experience, there was no chance that he could ever -

Every muscle about Mrs. Cake seized, her legs clamped around him and forced him as deep as possible, as she howled out like a beast possessed. Her marehood convulsed around him, bathing his groin and upper thighs in her orgasmic nectar. With her fingernails digging into his back, tinging his ineffable pleasure with a trace of pain, he met his climactic ruination.

Hilting, the tip of his length kissed her womb. Grunting and clenching his jaw, a torrent of spunk surged through his shaft. Lost to his ecstasy, wrapping his arms around her, he held her tightly and claimed her. A married woman, a mother, his employer, none of it mattered; there, in that moment, she was his and his alone.

The sheer cataclysmic force of his orgasm was mind blowing. If there was ever a time when he’d cum harder, throughout his entire life, he couldn’t think of it. Fitfully thrusting, trembling from head to toe, he bathed her interior in his essence. Beset by a rapture unlike anything he’d ever known, he fought to remain standing.

Their bodies entwined, the two rode out their nirvanic bliss. Though their grasp of time was tenuous, seemingly having stayed locked together for an eternity, Mrs. Cake’s legs eventually slackened and slumped over the side of the table. Panting and glistening with sweat, Anon heaved air into his lungs.

“R...remind me - Cough - to get you in a proper bed next time,” she croaked, affectionately stroking his hair.

The notion of a next time snapped Anon from his stupor. Wearily looking to her face, he grinned. “Next time?”

“Honey, after a rutting like that, I’m even considering giving you a raise,” she weakly laughed, nudging his side with her heel. “Come on, we’ve got to get cleaned up before customers start coming in.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, unsteadily righting himself and pulling his semi-flaccid shaft from her battered entrance. As he pulled free, a small deluge of his spunk oozed to the tiled floor below.

“Help me up,” she groaned, extending a hand. As Anon gingerly helped her off the counter, she steadied herself on him. “You might have to pick up the slack today - I’m probably gonna be a little wobbly for the next hour or so…”

Side by side, they hobbled towards the employee changing room. Thankfully, the small chamber was equipped with a standing shower and a locker, since it wasn’t uncommon for them to get covered with flour or batter throughout the day. Smiling over at her, he found her peering up at him.

“You know, if you wanted, I could get back under the register at some point,” he joked, caressing her shoulder.

“Don’t tempt me. With lips and a tongue like that, I might just take you up on the offer,” she snickered, her hand drifting down his hip and to his ass.

Despite having just blown a load, Anon’s manhood twitched. Shambling into the bathroom, giggling like a pair of school fillies, the duo went to wash up. Yeah, his life had just gotten a lot more interesting.