“Pretty good fuck, huh?” Stump chortled his words and reached down to give one of her breasts a swat with his meaty hand. She looked up at him and saw there was no intelligence behind his eyes. He was nothing but a rutting beast, made for sex and food and little else.
Then she noticed the bushes about her rustling and looked over just as three more satyrs burst through into the small clearing where she sat between the two creatures that had just finished fucking her, their organs still dripping semen.
The newcomers seemed to be looking the scene over, and Summer wondered if they all knew each other or if there was “bad blood” between differing groups of these creatures. She got her answer when the largest of the new trio stepped forward and reached down to her, pulling her off the ground and turning her about to look her over.
“Damn. Smells good,” the creature sniffed all over her body, his nose centering on her loin, spreading her legs wide so he could stick his snout almost up her twat, still dripping from Stump’s semen.
“Give ‘er a try,” Stump offered as though he were letting a friend test-drive his new car. “Great fuck fer my stump.”
The large satyr that had hold of her pulled Summer upright before him even as his own organ suddenly expanded. She gasped when she realized the cock on this creature was larger even than what Stump had. She began to protest, but the creature acted as though he didn’t hear a thing she said as he shoved his erection deep into her and began to pump away inside her pussy.
“You right,” he looked back at Stump and grinned. “Share this one with the whole pack. Good fuck for lots of days.”
Pack? The word buzzed around inside Summer’s brain as she saw the other two satyrs moving up to her. One stepped behind her and took position the same as Prickly had earlier, pressing the tip of his cock against the sphincter of her anus.
Oh God, no, she moaned silently. Satyrs traveled in packs, like wolves, and it seemed like they shared everything equally. Just then several more of the hairy creatures pushed through the bushes and crowded around, all waiting their turn with this new play thing.
Rowan and Ellowyn by Ainsley
Chill mists breathed over Ellowyn’s skin as she walked into the ancient, gated graveyard. No matter. She would soon be warm by the fire she built, and then warmer still. Odd how the scent of wood smoke had taken on such a sensual quality over the years.
Or perhaps not so odd, she thought, letting the armload of cut wood roll from her arms to clatter to the foot of the bare mountain ash that marked her husband’s grave.
The tree had grown to its full height in the years since her husband had died, its trunk as straight as his back when he had been indignant. The roots that had long since fingered inside his wooden coffin had pushed his tombstone off-kilter. The leaning, crumbling block of stone was fitting for his graveesomehow, for her husband who had been so immaculate in life. It was wrong for him in the way that death had been wrong for him. She reached up and ran her fingers over the mossy stone where the years of wind and snow and rain had smoothed away his name.
Her lips shaped it: Rowan.
A year’s worth of dried leaves and red berries not plucked by the birds cluttered the grave. She couldn’t bear to come the rest of the year, so it always was a mess when she arrived. She cleared the debris, baring cold dirt that crumbled between her fingers. Nothing else grew over his sleeping body but the tree, and never had. Perhaps it was the ash and soot from her yearly fire.
She laid out blankets to soften the ground next to the grave and stacked the wood on the bare dirt over it, using twigs from the mountain ash, from his tree, as kindling. She sparked a match off his stone and lit the fire.
The fire seemed as if it took a breath… His breath, she thought… and then flickered to life. The scent of wood smoke stoked a cocktail of abiding love and tingling desire in her belly. It spread in a wet sluice of heat straight to her pussy. She stared into the flames as she slid from her jacket, only blinking once as her fingers found the buttons of her blouse. They only had one night and she wasn’t about to waste a moment of it undressing.
She looked away from the flames as she fumbled with her belt and slid her pants down, cold air licking her bottom and cooling her damp folds. The fire heated her front and the heady scent of smoke heated her insides.
Ellowyn.
Soft enough she thought she imagined it.
She lifted her chin and her breath caught in her throat. Rowan’s shade flickered within the fire, wavering into shape, forming from the smoke and stepping clear of the flames. He was naked, as always, long muscles stretching and bunching under his otherworldly guise of skin. His thick cock was already hardening. At the sight of it, of him, tingles spilled from the crown of her head.
Her eyes widened and a smile spread across her lips. “Rowan!”
She stepped closer to him, but not all the way, letting him orchestrate their first touch. He knew when his ethereal form had taken on enough mass. He reached out to her cheek and her eyes closed at the feather-light stroke, like ash falling across her face. His touch solidified as his hand slid to the nape of her neck, drew her toward his body, and lowered his mouth to hers in a hungry kiss. Warmth swept through her and her arms went around his back, fingers caressing his hardening form, rediscovering him. The familiarity never went away, but she could explore his body for an eternity and never tire of him.
He slid his other arm tight around her waist, pinning her against his erection, and broke the kiss.
Ellowyn. He breathed her name into her soul. My love.
With her eyes closed, she could imagine he was here with her in flesh.
“ I love you,” she whispered.
She ran her hands over him, tipping her head back as he moved his lips to her throat. Chills ran through her at his delicate touch. His hands found the combs in her hair, diamond-laced trinkets he’d given her on their wedding day, and let her waves spill free to warm her back.
“I love you.”
She meant it as reassurance that she was pleased to be with him, desperate to make love with him this one cold night a year, even in an old, windswept graveyard. She slid down his body, kissing her way along his broad chest, teasing at his nipples, and running her mouth and fingertips over his stomach. As she knelt before him, the muscles in his thighs corded under her hands.
“ I love you.”
She kissed his thighs, his hip bones, circling his cock, teasing him but taunting herself even more. She wanted nothing more than to please him.
“ I love you.”
At last she licked the tip of his rampant cock. It twitched against her tongue and she smiled, sliding her lips over the head as slowly as she could. He held perfectly still and the breeze ceased caressing her skin, as if he’d commanded the entire world to stop in this moment. She sensed nothing but their mingling desire as his cock filled her mouth.
She pressed deeper, sliding her tongue along the smooth ridge underneath, stretching her lips to enclose it. Her pussy heated and dampened further, a trickle whispered down her thigh. Just the thought of him there, pushing between her folds…she moaned around him.
His fingers twined through her hair and he released a shivering sigh that sounded like a breath of wind through the leafless tree. Ellowyn.
She drew back and then took him back in again, harder. She had all night, true, but her cunt stung deeply with want. He would take her over and over this night, and she could barely wait for him to begin. Her breasts swung heavy and full, aching for his hands, the nipples tightening.