Capricious: 50

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Capricious icon art by Alan CooperWelcome to Fox Pass, Texas, a small community where the people are friendly and the mythical creatures aren’t so mythical after all. Capricious by Julie Cox follows the adventures of satyr Luke and his fellow myth-folk in a town that borders a whole lot more than Mexico. (Do you need to start at chapter 1?)
Chapter 50

A cedar trunk in the hayloft held old cotton quilts, their patterns long faded, their batting poking out of frayed seams and edging. The antique and heirloom quilts were safe in the house; these were the quilts of picnics in the pasture, forts in the tack room, and makeshift pallets in the alley outside a sick animal’s stall. It was one of these old quilts that Sally flung over the loose hay when she took Luke up to the loft in the barn.

Sally touched him slowly and deliberately, tracing her fingers over him as if she were drawing him, bringing every inch of him to life. He pulled her T-shirt off of her, his breath catching a little at the lavender lace bra she wore. She straddled him and pulled him up to a sitting position so she could divest him of his own dark blue T-shirt. He felt his skin turn to gooseflesh in the newly chill air; the hair on his neck and arms stood on end. There was electricity in the air—and some of it was the fluttering fingers of Sally’s lustful sexual energy, feeling him out, finding its way into him. The wind found its way through cracks in the walls, and it smelled like rain.

“Storm’s coming,” he said, tracing the backs of his nails up her arms.

“Oh,” she said, “there is.”

He pressed his lips against her sternum, kissing his way up her chest. “Your storm?”

“Hell yeah.” There was a light in her eye that was unfamiliar to him, avian and predatory. In that moment she could only have ever been a bird of prey, and his caprine heart shivered.

He ran his hands down her spine, to her lower back, to her ass, and pulled her firmly against him. In a quick, practiced motion, he undid her bra and slid it off her shoulders. He caressed her breasts, cupped them in his hands, felt of them with his mouth and tongue. He took her brown nipple in his mouth and sucked, swirling his tongue. She gasped and squirmed, grinding against him, her legs flexing around him to get closer, to press harder. Luke felt her magic flowing into him, little trickles of power seeping into his flesh. He needed more. He stretched up to whisper in her ear.

“Do you want me, Sally?”

“Do I want you,” she said. She reached between them and began undoing his belt and pants. “I have wanted you for years. Ached for you. I’ve fumed and raged and damn near foamed at the mouth in frustration that I couldn’t have you—not the way I wanted. I’ve had you in my dreams, in my past lives, and more nights than not, when I pleasured myself, it was your cock I imagined was between my legs. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. I tried to substitute, and found the rest of the world a pale shade.” She bit her lip, her dark eyes wide and vulnerable. “I did pretty well, for a while, hiding it, pretending I didn’t want you. I convinced myself I didn’t need you. Then this whole chupacabra and troll thing happened, and all of a sudden, you needed me. And that just sunk me. If I don’t get to fuck you now, I might just go mad.”

Luke drew in a hissing breath, looking up at Sally with wide eyes. “Girl, you could’ve just come over, you know.”

“Not knowing what I’d wake up to? Where we were going? I’m too old for that, Luke. One thing being so ancient’s done to me, I can’t hardly act for fear of repeating the past. And I sure can’t act all rash and impetuous, out of my own need. They’re just not my engines.” She unzipped his jeans. “But now that you know me, for who I am, and who we were—now that you are on the same page with me—things are a lot different.”

He cupped her cheek, stared earnestly into her eyes. “They sure as hell are, and won’t nothing ever be quite the same from here on out.”

He kicked off his boots, and she helped him out of his pants. It was harder to get hers off, as they were tighter, and she finally grunted in frustration and just stood up to take the blasted things off. He glimpsed ever so briefly that her panties matched her bra. He imagined she had gotten up that morning and dressed with the idea that she might get to fuck him that night.

She straddled him again and stroked her clit against his cock. She was soft, and hot, and wet, and he was almost painfully hard, his skin tight and bulging. He slid his hand under her ass, between her legs, and rubbed her with his fingers. She made little pleading noises, her muscles flexing against him. She moved as if to guide him into her; Luke held out a little longer, sliding one finger, then two into her, making sure she was ready. Thunder rumbled somewhere not too far away.

“Luke,” she said, “goddamn it, please, don’t make me wait any more!”

She was definitely ready, he decided. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them both over. She raised her hips, and he pressed against her, into her, slowly, letting the soft folds of her flesh part around his cock. She was tight, and hot, and his body thrummed with pleasure as he entered her. She cried out, good noises, the gathering storm covering her enthusiastic cries with wind and thunder. Her hips bucked as she rose to meet him, spreading her legs wider to take him in deeper. Lightning crashed nearby, and the wind picked up. He drew out, then pushed back in, and she gasped in pleasure, over and over. The whole world seemed to narrow to the pulsing energy flooding into him, lighting him up from the inside out, and the thrumming pleasure of his cock inside her, pumping in and out and of her pussy.

He drew out, almost suddenly, and said to her with a pannish grin, “Roll over.” She did, and he drew her ass back toward him. She eagerly raised her pussy. He stroked his fingertips lazily up the back of her legs. “Do you want it, Sally?”

“Of course I do, you old goat!”

He pressed the tip of his cock just inside the opening of her pussy. “How much do you want me?”

“Lots! Crazy lots! For years! Please, pretty satyr boy? Please?” She looked over her shoulder at him, just her dark eyes and long lashes visible. It was the look that did it; he couldn’t tease her anymore. He thrust into her, panting with exertion; she cried out, wanting more, and he gave her as much as he could, withdrawing to nearly his entire length with each stroke. The magical energy in Sally vibrated through him, pouring into him as she charged him, as she had been taught. It made his whole body pulse with ecstatic pleasure. Through the haze of euphoria, he reached beneath her and found her clit; he rubbed her in tight circles, experimenting until he found the way that made her nearly scream with pleasure, and she came loudly, her body bucking beneath him as he fucked her for all he was worth. Outside, the storm broke, and rain beat down on the tin roof of the barn.

She lay beneath him, and he was still for a minute, letting her breathe, before he started moving again, pulling out and then slowly, almost agonizingly slowly, sliding back in. The buzz of her lustful energy wasn’t quite so overwhelming, and the storm held steady. As she stirred beneath him, he purred in her ear, “We’d better put a condom on.”

She made an unhappy noise and squirmed. “Do we have to?”

He rolled his hips and nibbled her shoulder. “Only if you don’t want a baby in nine months. I hear tell this activity can lead to babies.”

She smiled over her shoulder at him. “Babies aren’t so bad.” She rolled over and pulled him down between her legs again.

He protested at being drawn out and shuddered at the pleasure of entering her again. “Personally, I think we’d make damn pretty kids, all dark hair and old souls and snarky attitudes.” He began to speed up, turned on by the idea of Sally pregnant. Sally with a little round tummy, gradually growing bigger.

For a moment all he heard was her breath, in and out, her rapid heartbeat. Then—“I want you to be the father of my babies.”

Luke made a low keening noise, his body shuddering from head to toe. A magical surge of energy thrust into him like a sword through his chest, and he rode it by increasing the speed and power of his strokes as he fucked Sally. He felt dizzy, almost cross-eyed at the intensity of the magic she poured into him. The howling wind and rain of the storm outside didn’t even register anymore. He almost couldn’t speak as he raised his lips to her ear. “Sally, I love you. I want you to be my family.”

She breathed out like she’d been holding on to a breath for years. “Then keep going.”

So he did, nothing between them at all. He fucked her now with greater intent, their bodies fusing. She sat up, pushed him over, rolled on top of him. She grabbed his horns and held him down on the quilt in the hay, and began riding him up and down, pleasuring herself upon his cock, which was stiff as a spear. She swirled her hips, changed her rhythm, and watched while Luke’s eyes went in and out of focus as she charged him with all the sexual energy she could muster.

This time when she came, Luke came with her, both of them crying out as their bodies shuddered around their thrusting cores. She rode him as he spent himself in her, grinding her clit against him. And faintly in the back of his mind, was the idea that even now—or at least very shortly—she might be pregnant. By him. Carrying his child, theirs together. The idea flooded him with joy.

Capricious is published weekly on Circlet.com. Want more? Proceed to the next post! Or, revisit earlier installments.





Julie Cox lives in Texas with her husband, children, and ever-expanding menagerie of animals on their farm. She runs a small online yarn business and teaches yarn spinning. She has numerous stories published with Circlet Press and elsewhere. For her full list of published works, see her website at www.lazypifarm.com.

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