Work Text:
“Was I a good sheriff, Mommy?” Sprout leaned back into his mother’s touch, digging his snout into the short fur on her neck.
Phyllis stayed quiet for a moment, shifting her back legs to get more comfortable as Sprout sat between them, “of course dear.” She flashed a kind smile toward her son, but quickly noticed a devious one making its way onto Sprout’s face.
“Does that mean I get a reward?” he looked up at Phyllis expectantly and spread his legs wider.
She gulped, looking down toward her son and shakily sighed, “I don’t know if I can do that again, sweetheart.”
Sprout’s face twisted into a snarl, and he began to get impatient. But every time he wanted to say something or fight against his mother, the words only got stuck, and he could feel the tears coming on; Sprout was so pathetic.
Phyllis could see the anger and frustration on Sprout’s face, she couldn’t help but feel bad, “you can’t always get your way, Sprout. Even so, you know I still love you.”
“But mommy!” Sprout stamped a hoof down, grinding his molars roughly as he leaned back; thrusting his hips up to show her his needy and hardening cock.
Phyllis held back a gasp and bit her tongue, she wished so badly to get out of the situation she was now in; but the look on Sprout’s face made her have second thoughts. “I. . . I guess we can do it. . .but only this once.”
Sprout smiled widely and laid back further into Phyllis’ warm body, digging his snout deeper into her neck; smelling the flowery perfume she always sprayed. “You treat me so well. . .” he murmured, and with those words Phyllis began pleasing her son. Rubbing her hoof along the rather short length of his hardening shaft.
He bucked into her touch and let out an exaggerated moan; it made Phyllis’ ears fold, all the while a blush spread across her face. She didn’t want to get turned on by the noises Sprout made,, but it was nearly impossible with how loudly he groaned.
“Don’t be so loud, Sprout. I don’t want anyone to hear us. . .” a nervous laugh escaped her lips.
“Why not? Is what we’re doing wrong?” Sprout now gazed up at Phyllis with pleading eyes, a look of desperation on his face.
“Well,” Phyllis paused and frowned a bit, continuing a few seconds later, “other ponies don’t love each other like we do. . .”
She could see the disheartened expression on her son's face, he looked so confused, “we have a special relationship, dear. One that some may find odd, but that doesn’t mean it’s that bad.”
Sprout looked down toward the ground and let out a deep sigh, “is that why you don’t want anyone to know?”
“Yes. . .” Phyllis directed her eyes toward the brick wall adjacent; the speed of her stroking slowed down.
Sprout shifted around his hooves nervously and all of a sudden batted Phyllis’ hoof away, “I don’t know if I wanna do this anymore.” He bit the inside of his cheek; eyes darting every which way until they settled on the ground once more.
“You were begging for this, sweetheart. Are you sure you don’t want to finish?” Phyllis was relieved; she felt forced into this from the get-go and wasn't too keen on continuing to feed Sprout’s little “obsession” with her. Yet Phyllis still kept up that caring act she so desperately needed to put aside.
“I don’t know. . .” he reiterated those same words; all the while completely flaccid and a sorry tone within his voice.
Promptly then, Phyllis stood up, making her way around Sprout who still sat there, so ashamed. “This is the last time, Sprout. I love you but. . .I encourage you to find somepony else.” Those words pierced right through him, fuck, he felt so guilty.
Sprout wanted so badly to ask, to ask why she’d just run off, if she hated him, why it was so wrong! But he already knew the answer,, and they all lead to the same conclusion; their relationship is an abomination.
An abomination he would no longer take any part in.