You press your hooves against her thighs and flank to try and hoist her horrible smelling rear off you, but the larger mare's size and weight, coupled with your own daze from the heavy hooved strike from before and her eye watering, strength sapping stench is simply too much for you to manage. As she rubs and grinds her heavy rear over your face, the scent [and to your despair - taste -] of her sweaty flank blooms; her gleeful wriggling reawakening the stink of her sweat, the musky stale tones of barstool and the other dirty, dank aromas that the party going mare had acquired. You cringe as the rubbery feel of that unwashed butthole glides over your nose - muffled protests going unheeded.
"Yeah! Ri- *HIC* in there!" she chuckles, shaking her frame above with dirty mirth, before another tremble of an entirely different sort rocks through her. A lewd, ominous burbling glorp of her stomach that makes you pale and freeze as she groans and lifts her tail a bit - letting it slap against your cheek before her butthole parts with a fluttering "PaaarrrRRMP," that rattles your muzzlefront. You cannot help but catch a whiff of the rotten scent of ex-cabbage, used grass and once alcohol; with what you could swear was a dank undertone of protein. Your vision immediately blur as your shake and try to pull your snout free - your paniced exertion only causing Berry to giggle and grind back down against your face harder.
"Wooo... " she grins, waving a hoof to the side and wobbling her rear against you as she steadies herself,
"Diiiirty girl liking *HIC* that.." she smirks, and presses a hoof down against that thundering gut of hers, "Betcha want s'more.."
You squirm and shake your head to little avail as a silent plume of hot, rancid air billows right against your face causing you to slump back with eyes watering. Her stink was stronger than her punch! She couldn't stand just a few minutes ago; surely she can't keep this up for long -
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