Capricious: 60

By joy. Filed in Capricious, Fiction  |  
Tags: , ,
TOP del.icio.us digg

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 60

In the car rushing toward the portal at the edge of Fox Pass, Luke was having a quiet, queasy, possibly lethal existential crisis. Charlie watched him in his peripheral vision. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “You’re pale. And you’re Mediterranean; it’s wrong for you to be pale.”

“I think I gave Sally too much energy,” he said. “I have supposedly charged people before, the way I let them charge me, but I can’t remember doing it. I didn’t know when to hold back.”

Charlie took one of Luke’s hands and put it on his stomach. “Let me see if I can do anything useful while driving. I first saw you come out of a magical portal on an enormous black horse, carrying a spear from hell, with a pair of fully manifested horns on your head. That appealed to the devil in me like you wouldn’t believe. Watching you and Sally, I can’t help but be a little bit jealous. But just a tiny bit, because you guys are amazing together, and I can’t be selfish enough to want to get in the way of that.”

“This is a delightful conversation,” Luke growled, “but satyrs don’t run on adorable crushes tempered by respect and loyalty. We are creatures of earth magic, and we run on raw sexual energy.” His voice was coming out clipped and snarled, like someone else’s voice. “Being around horny people is a snack, being around horny people with a focus on myself is a small meal, sex with other myth-folk is satisfying, and an orgy with myself as a central point is a feast.” This explanation taxed Luke of all his available willpower, and he curled against the door of the car, not caring that the seatbelt cut into his neck.

Charlie pulled the car over to the side of the road. “Criminy, I don’t do lust very well,” he said.

“Did you just say criminy?”

“I’m demonic! I’m not exactly wholesome.”

Luke was too spent to develop a counterargument. So, he reached for the obvious. “What would Sally say to that?”

Charlie was quiet for a moment, thinking. Finally he said, “She would say that I wasn’t really a demon, that I was one of the myth-folk, and I was closer to a mental construct of early colonial American folklore. That I existed because enough people told stories about me and believed in me. That I was formed out of the consolidated energy of belief and thought. Joseph Campbell, eat your heart out.”

Luke wasn’t sure he followed. Still, not being one to argue with a perfectly good overexplanation, he said, “Sounds about right.”

“But it’s people’s beliefs in demons.”

Luke made a rude noise in his throat. “I’ve met demons. Trust me, you’re not one. You are stupidly, hilariously not one.”

“How do you know?”

“I survived the encounter.”

“Oh.”

“Can this be about me now?” Luke said. “I feel shitty.”

“Sorry!” Charlie said. He got out of the car and, in the slow, wincing walk of the injured, came around to Luke’s side. He opened the passenger door, and Luke would have fallen on his feet if the seat belt weren’t holding him in. There was no proper shoulder to the road, just a jagged edge where the asphalt faded into equally hard dirt and dirt-colored grass. Charlie knelt there and got as close to Luke as he could; he cracked his knuckles, preparing for battle.

“All right. Lust. Gotta be turned on while nursing a chest injury. Luckily, I had painkillers, so it’s not so bad….” Luke got the distinct impression the boy was talking to himself. “OK. I’ve had a difficult time coming to grips with my sexuality. I tried really hard to change myself. But Luke, I look at you and I know the truth. I know that I like guys—no, not just guys. I like men.” He said it the way some women might have said chocolate. “Muscular, sweaty, masculine men. Which is kind of unfortunate because not many of them are gay, but hey, problem for another time. You make me know myself—and I suspect you do the same to other people, like Sally and Allison. It’s hard to hide from you. Sally managed it for so long just because she’s so old. Me? I had no chance, I have to acknowledge my own feelings when you are around.” He gritted his teeth, clearly reluctant to go full-on-lusty. “I look at you, and I want you to fuck me. I want your cock up my ass, pounding me like this was your last lay before the apocalypse. I want you merciless and demanding and dominant.”

Luke felt a faint stirring outside himself, the now-familiar smell of forest, and rain, and moss that was Charlie’s magical energy. His nausea eased, and he was almost able to catch his breath. Charlie was still talking; he tuned back in.

“I want to do things to you, too. I want to please you—I want to affect you, to stir you. I want to suck your cock until you almost come, then stop, then work you up to a climax again. And if Sally wants to watch, if that turns her on, the more the better. I—”

He faltered as Luke reached out and ran a hand down his chest, to his belly, and then reached between his legs. Charlie grabbed the frame of the car to steady himself. Luke found him already hard, from talking as dirty as he could muster. He gasped as Luke ran his hand back and forth, coaxing the lust in him to greater heights. The chill began to fade; things began to come back into focus. He undid Charlie’s jeans and pushed them roughly aside. He needed the energy Charlie was giving off, desperately needed it. And he tasted so good, like earth magic mixed with water and air, and a hint of deep, ancient fires beneath it. Like so many young myth-folk, he had all the elements of magic in him, unlike the highly specialized older ones like Sally and himself.

He spit in his hand, grasped Charlie’s cock and began stroking up and down expertly. Charlie cried out and stopped trying to talk altogether. Luke leaned farther out the door, grateful for the seat belt holding him in, and kissed Charlie roughly. He grasped the back of the boy’s neck, pulling him closer, sucking at his mouth. Charlie rocked his hips in motion with Luke’s strokes, making little sounds that were almost pained. His magic poured off him in a steady stream, like water poured from an ever-full pitcher. It wasn’t the intermittent shocks of Sally’s magic, or the waves of Allison’s—it was constant, thick and pure like cream. Luke liked the feel of his cock, smooth and hot, the taste of his mouth, the strength of his lips.

Suddenly Charlie pulled away. There was a decision sitting there in his eyes, glaring out at Luke defiantly. It was an odd look. Charlie reached over and undid Luke’s pants, which had only a few minutes ago been zipped back up. He grasped Luke’s semi-hard cock in his hand and began stroking him, coaxing him, looking up at Luke with a wavering commitment to the moment.

“Sally’s OK with it?”

“She better be, she put me in the state to need it.” He was hard, and looking at Charlie’s archer’sbow mouth, he felt his own lust answering the call to arms. His body stirred, blood and heat pooling in his center, pleasure and hormones fueling what little strength he had left. “Please. I really need this. Ordinarily just making out would help a lot, but right now it’s not enough. I need—”

That seemed to be all the encouragement Charlie needed. He lowered his head and took Luke’s cock into his mouth. Luke gasped and arched against the seat, bucking his hips upwards. Charlie’s mouth was hot and tight, and he was doing wonderful things with his tongue. He stroked up the shaft, rubbing along the tender vein underneath, vibrating over the very delicate bit of skin below the head like a fiddler with a bow, sucking and resting, sucking and resting in motion with his strokes. He was a true prodigy at the art of the blow job.

And he knew it. The longer it went, the more energy came off of him. Luke was saying things, but he wasn’t really aware of them. Encouraging, praising, cussing. Charlie was stroking himself too, and the lust-magic he produced tasted sweet and dense, soaking into Luke’s spent soul. It was a massive relief, feeling that much come back to him.
He came without much warning, and though he tried to say something about it, Charlie didn’t heed him, and kept sucking through the duration. He felt it when Charlie came too, hitting him with a wave of lustful energy that left him breathless. He came hard, and it seemed to go on, and on, his body rocking with the pleasure of a second orgasm in such a short time. Charlie coaxed it on with his strong lips and hot tongue, and swallowed.

Charlie fell back against the car door, gasping and holding his chest. Luke stared unseeing out the windshield for a moment before he said, “Son of a bitch.”

Charlie grinned. “So’s all right?”

“That… has got to rank as the best blow job of my life.”

“Of how many lives?”

“Don’t push, boy, I was in France when it was sexy.” He zipped up, unbuckled the seat belt and scooted clumsily across the center panel of the car. He was still dizzy, but in a very, very good way. Charlie climbed into the passenger seat, adjusting his glasses. Luke watched him with concern. “Still your chest, or did I take too much of your magic?”

Charlie shook his head. “Nope, just the massive torso trauma. My magic’s fine.” He turned to Luke with a lopsided grin that made him look younger and rakish. “I come from a spring, remember? That’s what the Blue Hole is.”

Luke returned the grin. “Splendid.”

Charlie buckled up carefully; his brow furrowed as he did so. “There was a taste to you I couldn’t quite place.”

“Oh. That. Um. Well. See. Sally and I kind of had sex behind the trailer and I hadn’t had a chance to really properly clean up yet.” It came out all in a rush.

The blood drained out of Charlie’s face. He looked like he wanted to say a lot of things, but in the end he pressed back against the seat and stared out the window. “I… now know what Sally’s lady-bits taste like. I am deeply traumatized.”

Luke put the car in gear. “C’mon, let’s go see if my thunderbird girlfriend is done eviscerating the little fairy who threatened to rape her.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I’ll explain later. Right now, ass-kicking time.”

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.

One Comment

  1. Comment by capriox:

    Yep, still love this story to little bitty pieces. eeeeee!

Trackbacks / Pingbacks

Leave a Reply