@Depressed Knoll  
Yeah that makes sense

@Haruka Takahashi  
Not when it’s by a marriage that took place generations ago by distant relatives.

@Depressed Knoll  
If they’re cousins then doesn’t it count as incest?

And I just wish Zecora was back there.

@Haruka Takahashi  
Only by a marriage generations back, meaning that it wouldn’t count as incest by any stretch of the imagination.

@toonbat  
Marble could be related to Big Mac

his collar’s a nice touch.

@Background Pony #DC1F
 
niiiiiice. saved.

@Background Pony #DC1F
 
An excellent story, indeed.

Story time!
 
…
 
He hefted the hefty bushel up to his shoulder, sweat gleaming down the sinew of his torso and arms before being soaked up by the fabric of his, sinfully exposed, waistband.
 
Applejack had to fan herself with her hat, turning away from him as discreetly as possible to hide the rouge tint of her face not brought on by the physical exertion.
 
None of this was right.
 
It wasn’t right for any one male to be so fine.
 
It wasn’t right for her to think this of her brother.
 
It wasn’t right for her to feel this way for her brother.
 
It was even more un-right for her to not be able to lick away that disrespectful bead of sweat as it rolled down his neck muscles,down his clavicle, and slipped along the fair hairs of his torso and pooled in his naval.
 
But the greatest injustice was that she had to share her sight.
 
Those three could take in bowlfuls of her eye candy brother and she couldn’t get a decent glimpse without it being so many types of wrong.
 
She glanced back at him, seeing him set it down on the back of one of the green work trucks they used for delivery to the market and further areas.
 
She watched the actions taking place amongst that beautiful expanse of anatomy.
 
From his flared latissimus dorsi to his rippling deltoids and further up, she wanted to touch, rub, scratch and grip with all her might as everything from his external abdominal obliques to his glorious gluteus maximus worked against her in the most delicious and forbidden ways.
 
The woven wood and fabric strips of the bushel in her hands creaked as she dragged her gloved nails across the poor substitute for his muscles.
 
A trickle of fluid that might not have been sweat was passing her knees as the skin of her breasts grew a teensy bit more rigid toward the peaks.
 
…
 
Cheerilee watched him work. She watched him move.
 
It made her curious, among other things, imagining the other ways those muscles could coordinate themselves. It would be an excellent way to study anatomy.
 
He stopped for a second, and she panicked at the thought that he was suddenly aware of her and her company. But he fished out a white and green checkered cloth from his pocket and began to wipe his face of sweat, the simple act as awe appropriate as any art form.
 
A red light went of in her mind, noting the size of the cloth and fearing it could have been the mass that she’d witnessed nestled in the juncture of his lower musculature. But then he turned around to resume his work, and she saw him in profile.
 
There was no loss to be concerned about and she resumed her inspection of his body. She needed to be sure everything was in… working condition.
 
She focused on his arms, firm slow twitch action of him drawing in another bushel of apples view in the greatest detail of her mindseye. Those arms could hold her to him any day, anytime, anywhere, anyway he or she so desired.
 
Next she focused on his lower torso, primarily what she could see. His abdomen was flexed hard as he brought the bushel against him and lifted it with a practiced ease, one that made her wonder how well he’d lift a girl to set her down somewhere south of those abdominal segments of yummy excellence and endurance.
 
His external abdominal obliques, while not trim and streamlined like so many athletes, were hard and firm with enough fat to ensure they lived up to their nickname of lovehandles. Much like the term, “More cushion for the pushin’”, only it was more like “More grip at the hip.”
 
The image flashed in her mind, and she whimpered inaudibly at the desire to mar that sun-kissed work of art with red lines and teeth marks. He probably tasted like sweat.
 
Sweat and sun and long, long hours of physical exertion. She licked her lips, a sudden and powerful thirst overtaking her.
 
…
 
Marble was in awe of his strength, she was. He was carrying what could have easily been half her weight with as much effort as a shallow breath. He could carry her over his shoulder with as much ease.
 
He could do a lot of things to her, indeed he could. And she would be helpless against his titanic form. He dwarfed her so easily, she could probably make eye contact with his nipples better. Or, rather, she could possibly…lick those nipples.
 
Shuddered at the thought, she did, imagining his titanic form crumbling down to her touch till she had him on his knees, weak for her demands. She’d twist his necklace til it formed a very short leash, pulling him about as she wished, doing whatever she pleased. A blush erupted across her face, a hand smoothing down her hair as she turned her head away slightly, trying to reign in her lewd thoughts.
 
She’d make him work on the farm, she would. Yes, with his strength and stamina, he’d be an invaluable asset to the farm when Maud and Pinkie were away and too busy to help the family out. And when they did visit he would be free to be with her, and her alone.
 
In time, surely, her mother and father would see it fit to keep him on the farm longer or, even better, present him and her to the Pairing Stone. The Stone would pair them, it would, and she’d need no excuse to be with him as much as she pleased. They would be married, and then…
 
They’d have children, they would. Many beautiful children. And they’d make lots of wondrous love.
 
…
 
Sugar Belle smiled as she watched him work. She marveled at the walking mass of yes she’d had the good fortune of attracting. The ass, the muscles, the strength, the unmentionables. All of them were all hers.
 
She’d have him. He’d take her. They would have at it, it would be amazing. Then they would go again.

AJ: (“Y’all ain’t even being subtle.”)

Even AJ has some sexual tension towards her brother

Apples and Apple Stallions are the farm’s primary exports.

@Shritistrang
 
Works for me.

This is the ideal male body. You may not like, but this is what peak performance looks like.

Meanwhile, Rainbow Dash and Rarity are ogling Applejack.

@Shepherd  
Plus, Mac’s got so much stamina, she needs to bring along two (or three ;)) other girls to ensure that she can still walk straight the next day.

@Background Pony #5836
 
She know’s there’s enough to share.

Not sure why Sugar Belle is lurking in the background like that when she’s already claimed that muscular apple stallion for herself.

@Shepherd
 
He’ll drown, though.
 
_…wink

@Dirty Bit
 
That’s why I was suggesting he should go swimming.

I see Cheerilee, Marble Pie, and Sugar Belle back there :U

Unf. Juuuuust a little lower…

…Stupid, sexy Big Man

Mac you need a break, how about taking a dip?