Release Me
Imported from SF2 with no description.
Wow, talk about the opposite of prolific. A smattering of stories spanning a couple of decades! Like Granny Weatherwax from Discworld, I should hang a sign on my profile that says 'I Ate'nt dead'.
I put care and what creativity I have into these things - it's important to me to humanize (anothro-ize?) the characters the best I can so when they get to bumpin' uglies, there's some meaning and feeling to it aside from just a hole being filled.
Read and comment. I love seeing the comments.
Everyone's over 18, and there's definitely some incest…but isn't that why you're here?
************************************
RELEASE ME
By P
There was a city by the sea; soaring mirrored buildings threading through a spider web of on-ramps and interchanges, red and green lights all blinking in union; a port and a stadium, an airport bounding the outskirts on the north, suburbs and slums, palaces and police stations. But you leave to the West, following a freeway into the heart of the land, getting off the freeway to a highway, then off the highway through a roundabout of truck stops and cheap motels, until you strike ever further away from the city, into the heartland. The road drops from 4 lanes to 2 and now it's just farmland and factories. Abandoned cars and tumbled down houses that weren't even new 30 years ago, and by the post office across from the abandoned gas station you wind into a gravel road, then dirt, then tracks in the grass. And now you're here.
The driveway was once packed gravel, but now it's just dust and rocks spread out across the yard in the blazing mid-afternoon sun, Jared's brand new sub-compact rental car standing out like a silver sci-fi spaceship amongst all the pickup trucks and station wagons made calico with different rusting side panels and doors salvaged from the Upull yard a few miles away. And honestly, the young goat couldn't be happier. After 5 semesters at the college out of state, he was finally home again in time for the family reunion. He'd changed a lot - more toned, curving horns neatly trimmed and polished, eyes a little quicker and a little more sturdy and sure in his gait, and the words and ideas he'd learned at the distant school seemed out of place in this timeless yard next to his parent's double-wide.
“Heads up!" A football came wobbling through the air at him and he snatched it from the air with ease. Slapping it between his horned hoofs, he eyes the gaggle of cousins playing tackle in the dirt before pointing towards the distant fence across the yard, eyes narrowing. Hollering and knocking each other down, the young bucks thunder across the field, waving their arms Here-here-over-here! He rears back, short tail flicking once in concentration, and launches a perfect spiral into the churning phalanx, and then can't help but laugh as it bonks off the head of one and into the surprised arms of another. They fall into a scrum over it, cussing and laughing.
“Well lookit you," his Pa says, handing him a cold beer from the Styrofoam cooler on the porch. “Regular quarterback at the college these days, eh?" The middle-aged ram, faded trucker hat pulled down over his horns, snorts in feigned derision, but Jared can tell his old man is proud of him and what he's been up to. All his kin here had white wool that the dust and grime of the boonies has turned off-beige and his Pa is no different, and for the first time Jared notices the gray in his goatee and bushier-than usual eyebrows.
The younger caprine pulls the tab on his beer: ka-tchsssh! and takes a swallow. “Nah, I didn't want to go in for football--too much pressure and not enough time for studies." He slurps at the top of his beer can, catching the foam bubbling up after his swig, and rubs his stomach, nodding at the smoker set up next to the porch. “I'm starving, how long 'till dinner?"
His father visibly warms up - the smoker is his pride and joy, and he loved to fuss with the different kinds of woods, the temperature, the vents and settings of the thing, and considered himself a master of his craft. “Whelp, meat went in about 2 hours ago and she'll need another 2, maybe two and a half hours where she's at right now for that smoke flavor to really settle in." He waggled his eyebrows, managing a wink. “I'll make sure she's commin' along just fine. Meanwhile, I think there's couplea bags of chips open over on the picnic tale if you need sustenance." He gestures to the big spreading sycamore tree in the center of the yard where plastic lawn chairs had been set up in the shade. “Once you've grabbed a bite, why don't you go say hi to your mom and her sister out there?" He points a thumb back over his shoulder at the smoker “I got this."
Jared gulps more of his beer, wiping foam off his muzzle. “Don't mind if I do."
He wanders across the vast yard with a beer in one hoof and a half-finished bag of corn chips in the other, dodging around running kids, ducking momentarily when he found himself in the crossfire of the two faded corn-hole boards, and stopping to chat with an uncle or two until he found himself in the shade of the sycamore tree. “Afternoon ladies!"
“Oh my little Jerri!" his mom, Belle, stood up off her cracked plastic lawn chair, hooves clasped to her ample bosom, before sweeping him into a hug. She was a stout and sturdy woman, graying a bit like his Pa, shorter than him by at least a head with a ridiculous dollar-store sunhat balanced on her horns. She held him at arm's length, regarding him proudly, before placing a wet kiss on the end of his broad, flat muzzle. “How much you've grown since last summer, my little kid." He hugged her back as best he could with his hooves full of beer and chips, looking over her shoulder at his mom's sister. Soon Belle unwrapped herself and motioned to her sister, sitting languidly in a lawn chair in the shade. “You remember your Aunt Krissy?"
Aunt Krissy was the opposite of his mom. Where she was voluptuous and short, Krissy was flat-chested, thin and tall, wire-rimmed glasses resting on the end of her nose. Aunt Krissy hadn't bothered to get up off her chair, instead sprawling sideways, plastic wine glass half-full of ice and boxed wine in one hoof, cigarette in the other. Neon blue hair fell in front of her eyes, and she brushed it aside carefully with the hoof holding the cigarette, sending a little shower of ashes into the grass. “What they teach…teachin' you out there?" She manages. Lord, he thinks, it's 4:30 and Aunt Krissy is already squiffed.
Belle brushes some of the stray ashes from her sister's bangs almost absentmindedly. “My boy's going to be a firefighter — aren't you Jerri?"
“Something like that," he allows, “more like a logistics and personnel manager for firefighting departments." He shrugs. “You know…first responder support and coordination."
“I've got a fire he can put out," Aunt Krissy smirks.
Jared chokes on his beer, foam spraying out of his nose. “KRISSY!" Belle squeals, slapping her sister playfully on the arm. Even under his short wiry fur he can feel the blush crawling up his cheeks. “Never you mind my sister here," she says, patting the cooler between the chairs. “Tell me all about your schoolin'"
*********
There was talk of making a bonfire just like there always was, and there was talk of doing this kind of thing more often just like there always was, but eventually as the sun began to slip behind the trees all that got left behind as people packed away their youngin's and scrounged left-over ribs and potato salad from the picnic table to take home. Clean tupperwares were shared and returned, with plenty of promises to bring them back clean as they got 'em, or full of future leftovers. At this point there was only one thing left to pack away - Aunt Krissy.
His mother had come out on the porch a little while ago, looking flushed and angry. “Your Pa says he doesn't care if she's got a snoot-full, she isn't staying under our roof - and I told him he can't drive her."
Jared sighed in exasperation “Sometimes I love this place…and sometimes I hate it." He nodded out to the sycamore tree where Krissy's cigarette winked in and out of the shadows. “That man knows just as well as anyone around here Aunt Krissy didn't have anything to do with how her man ended up." He felt his fists balling up, full of rage. “They expect her to starve after the factory killed him? Not one of 'em would have done anything different, we're it them!"
“Lower. Your. Voice." Belle hissed, grabbing her son's elbow in a vice-like grip. She narrowed her golden eyes. “Lots of people here still blame that fancy lawyer and his fancy lawsuit for shutting down the machine factory - and the longer that nothin' came along to replace it, the more people want to blame the only person they can see for it. Even 20 years now on."
“Yeah, but she's family, and dad shouldn't treat family that way." He snaps, shaking his elbow free.
“You think I don't know that? It's my sister we're talking about." Belle's voice trembles, “But your father, well he's got to work with our neighbors. And times ain't always that great." Her words grew choppy, choked with emotion. She dug in the pocket of her apron “Here." She croaks, pressing a jangle of keys into his hoof. “Take her back to her house. We'll pick you up there tomorrow." She pauses, silhouetted in the light from the half-open door and looks down. In that moment Jared sees the age, the strain, the tiredness in his mother's visage. “Sorry." She mutters, almost like a resignation. The door creaks closed and now he's alone on the porch again.
Outside in the yard there's a muffled thump and a shower of sparks, then gentle snoring. Aunt Krissy is down for the count.
********
He was able to rouse Krissy well enough to get her in the passenger seat of her own station wagon — she seemed to understand that this was for the best and she shouldn't be driving. Turning the ungainly car around in the driveway was a chore, and by the time he'd gotten the wagon off the potholes and gravel and onto the dirt road she was already asleep again, curled up on the passenger seat. Most of his attention was on the pitch dark road that swam into view in front of the car's yellowing headlights, but occasionally he'd steal a glance at her sleeping form. He didn't need his mother to remind him — he knew what people said about his Aunt. He tried to imagine what it would be like to live in a community where you were the pariah, the villain. It was no wonder she crawled in the bottle so often. Aside from his mom, who did she have to stand by her?
Twenty minutes later the headlights (or actually, headlight–the other one was MIA) swept across his Aunt's front porch as he turned into her drive. The house was mostly dark, but it was a house. No single-wide or double-wide here. Her husband's wrongful death suit has brought her enough money to live the rest of her days in relative comfort, even if it was in the middle of nowhere. The older woman was still curled up on the seat beside him, and as he got out on his side he closed the door a little harder than usual, hoping to wake her enough to get her inside. No dice–she remained as sound asleep as ever. He gently opened the passenger door, and in the near darkness fumbled around until he was able to reach the seat-belt, freeing her. He looked at her and then at the front door a few feet away, considering the logistics of the situation. He first tried putting his arm around her shoulder, trying to coax her out into the driveway, before giving in and gingerly scooping her up in his arms, committed to carrying her like a bride-to-be across the threshold into her dark house. Pushing the car door shut with his back hoof, he carried his Aunt across the yard and up the steps to her door.
And there he got stuck. He tried to bend down a bit, reaching out to turn the knob, jostling her in the process. He'd just gotten his hoof on the knob and turned it, pressing her to him with his other arm when he realized the doe had wrapped her arms around him. Her head lolled onto his shoulder, and she muttered something breathy into his ear; mmmzzzz..you smell nice…
Jared felt himself break out into goosebumps, charged with a hot flush that ran down his spine. He managed the door and stepped into the living room, lit only by the kitchen range light and a night-light in the hall. Giggling a little, his Aunt playfully licked his ear, her eyes half lidded. Jared carried her across the living room, edging awkwardly sideways to make it down the hall with her in his arms. The older woman (my mom's sister! His brain insisted) unwrapped an arm from around his neck and lowered the strap on her top, where'we goin', Romeo? She whispered, tugging her top down a little, freeing her petit breasts to his gaze. She began to kiss the nape of his neck and he turned his muzzle away, desperate to get her to her room and put her down. “To bed." he grunted, trying to concentrate, only to realize a second later what that answer sounded like.
He pushed open the door to her room and managed to get to her bed, but as he bent over to lay her down he felt the older goat's embrace tighten as she drew herself up into his muzzle needfully, her lips mashing into his own, tongue dancing past his lips. His body instinctively leaned into the kiss, just for a second, before he wrenched himself away in roaring confusion. She was already sinking into the covers, eyes fluttering shut. He stood for a moment next to the bed to catch his breath, struggling to categorize how he felt about what happened. Carefully he pulled the covers over her exposed chest, telling himself that what had happened hadn't just happened.
The young goat stretched out as best he could on the couch in the living room, telling himself his Aunt was just being drunk and saucy, and she most likely wouldn't remember and if she did, she'd be embarrassed as hell and pretend she didn't. No one would have to know. Yet every time he felt himself drifting off, he heard her voice: where're we goin',Romeo? as the part of his brain that leaned into the kiss kept leaning…
************
The ram startled awake in the bluish semi-darkness, his brain muzzy and stuck momentarily between thinking he was back at his dorm bed in college or maybe his old bedroom at home. The feeling intensified into outright panic before he finally realized he was on the couch at his Aunt Krissy's house and it was…where's my phone? Oh yeah here it is. 1:20 in the morning. He lay back down, the panicked jolt of adrenaline seeping away.
As the confusion receded, he realized that the house wasn't entirely quiet, or dark. Bluish light made shifting patterns on the hall leading down to his Aunt's room, and a susurration of sounds slid underneath it, almost on the edge of his hearing. He faintly heard a sigh that seemed tinged with frustration, and a moment later a dim light snapped on in her room. His eyes began to drift closed as sleep began to over take him…and then a single faint squeak of bed-springs.
He tilted his head a little, broad nose tickled with something faint and sweet…and then another squeak. Followed by another. And another. And then a muffled moan.
His eyes flew open and he swung his legs onto the floor. Was she hurt? Some half-remembered story about a guitar player who'd choked to death in his sleep swam through his memory and he quickened his step, ending up in his Aunt's bedroom doorway.
The first thing he realized was that she didn't have a single stitch of clothing on, and the second was she was quite…athletic. She sure was humping the shit out of that pillow.
She was on all fours facing away from him, the comforter bunched haphazardly under her as she straddled an oversized pillow. She rocked forward slowly, squeezing the pillow with her knees, then sighed as she lowered her shoulders, pushing herself back. On each stroke her rear flexed,as if she was presenting herself to some unknown lover. Slow and steady, taking her time, she rode on an ocean swell of pleasure until the swell became a wave, and that wave began to carry her off. The rocking built in intensity, her head hanging down between her shoulders, breath coming in short gasps. Her hips jerked a little, pulling a quiet moan from her. The ram simply could not look away.
“Mmmf…yes…" she murmured, getting close. She rocked back upright on her heels, elbows locked as she squeezed the pillow against her sex. Her hips did the work now as she rolled herself against the pillow again and again desperately, her back and leg muscles straining as she sought release. Her stubby tail twitched as she flexed faster and faster and the room filled with the scent of her arousal. She threw her head back and she bleated joyfully, her hips jerking against the fabric. It was all the male could do not to bleat in response. The older doe lowered her head, breathing heavily. She tossed her neon blue hair, looking back over her bare shoulder at him, a sultry smile at the corner of her mouth. “See anything you like, Romeo?"
**************
Jared sat on the edge of his Aunt's bed, hooves planted firmly on the floor, head in his hands. Behind him Aunt Krissy sat amongst a pile of bed sheets and comforters, hugging her knees to her chest. She ran a hand through her hair and rubbed one of her short, stubby horns, before finally adjusting the glasses on the edge of her muzzle.
“Look," she said, “We don't have to make any big deal out of…what you saw." She sniffed. “I don't remember a lot from the drive over, but I do remember your Pa saying that he'd pick you back up once you'd driven me home."
“He was," the ram allowed, “but Ma said that he was too lit to drive himself…and you know Belle doesn't drive after the sun goes down." he paused, considering carefully his words: “Do you remember anything else from the drive home?"
Silence. He wasn't looking at her, but he could almost feel her bringing her scattered thoughts together. She sniffed again. “I want you to remember that your Uncle passed away…well…quite a while ago." She shrugs. “'Been a long time since I've been, you know, held by a man. Or anything else, for that matter. Plus," here she rubbed his back. “You're kind of a cutie. You've grown up a whole lot, Jerri."
He bristles at the use of his nickname. “I'm still your nephew. I'm still blood."
She laughs; “Didn't seem to stop you from getting an eyeful a minute ago, did it?"
His objection felt hollow, felt weak. Ever since he'd taken her in his arms and into that hurried stolen kiss, his body has thrummed with desire — it felt like when he was young and on a swing right at the apex of it's back arc; a moment of weightless stillness before the rush forward. He felt the bed shift as she scooted a little bit. She sensed his held breath, felt the tension within him.
His Aunt hugged him from behind, her muzzle intimately close to his ear, “No one's got to know, do they?" She whispered, “It's just you and me here."
Oh gods it was true. No one would know. He turned to say something, maybe raise some final objection they both knew was a Lie, but instead his lips grazed hers as at long last the swing rushed forward. In a moment she found herself in his arms, sunken deep into a passionate kiss. Her arms trailed down his back, pulling his shirt awkwardly over his head, wanting him to be as naked, as needful as she was. “I can't believe we're doing this," he huffed, fumbling with his belt. “I didn't think—“
“No thinking, hun." Aunt Krissy leaned back on her elbows, offering her full, mature body to her nephew. “Just doin'".
What happened next was somehow less of a joyful union and more like a car crash. Jared climbed on top of her willing body, panting like a steam engine. She felt his stiffness; his maleness, sliding up her leg and reached between them, guiding him into her without hesitation. “That's my good boy," she huffed, full at last after so many years, “You take care of your Auntie—ooooh!" Delirious with desire, Jared had begun to buck against her immediately, “s-s-slow it d-down a bit there Romeo."
Nothin' doin'. “I can't," he whimpered, trying to fight his rutting instincts, “ohgodohgod….you feel…so goood". She was like the coolest drink of water on in i a hot summer day in the sun — your brain keeps telling you to take sips while your body gulps and gulps, greedy in its need. There was no thought, just a raw animal instinct that made him slam himself into her over and over again with wild abandon. He shuddered, breath coming in gasps, trying to get himself under control, trying to make this last. Finally some rational part of him, some kind of self-preservation got the upper hand and he tried to rock back on his haunches, to withdraw from her; “…wait…I'm gonna…"
Pinned underneath him, his Aunt wrapped her arms around his forearms, pulling herself to him needfully even as he tried to pull away. “Shhhh…it's ok," she assured the young ram. “You can finish in me." She ran a hand along his muzzle, looking into his golden eyes. Eyes that were starting to lose their focus as he rocked against her feverishly, haunches driving himself into her over and over and over…until finally…
The ram bleated helplessly, jolting her back into the mattress with the force of his thrust, spurts of his heavy cream painting her grasping womanhood. Krissy's hooves fluttered up, splayed against his horns and she kissed him…kissed him oh so deep, lost in the throes of their shared pleasure. The prong of his shaft, the slickness of his cum lubricating and filling her mature pussy, the press of their bodies so desperately against each other was the final straw to send her sailing over the edge. She threw her head back into the pillow as she arced against her younger lover, her bleats joining his own as she rode the swell of pleasure he brought with every spurt of his seed deep inside of her.
***************
They lay together afterwards, doe and ram, her head laid against his chest and his arm around her shoulder as slate-gray dawn light began to slowly fill the room. She ran her hoof through the fur on his chest every so often, touching him just to remind herself he was there. He pulled her close, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you for that," he drowsed.
Krissy curled herself against the young ram. “If you'd told me yesterday that I'd end up here in the arms of my nephew, I'd have never believed it." She laid her head on his chest, “it was nice you took me home…and took care of me."
“I almost didn't." He paused, turning over his words. “Or wasn't. I mean I *was*, I mean I *am*". He sighed. “Originally I wasn't going to come out to visit Pa and Belle, then it was too late to turn it down, so I was going to talk to them last night, it just never seemed like good timing, then all of the sudden here we are."
“This ain't so bad, is it?"
Jared squeezed her close with her arm, eliciting a sigh. “I wasn't coming back here in the first place." He said. “I only got a few semesters left, and there's this internship in one of the southern states, and I was going to take it."
“I'm glad you did, Jerri." His aunt allowed.
Looking up at the ceiling, lost in what could be, the young ram continued. “It'd mean that in the summer I'd be working for the National Park service from now on, and when the internship was up I was going to see about managing the Fire watch programs." He blushed a little. “I hadn't figured out how to tell Pa about it."
There was a distant rumble of thunder, and she was looking out the window now, watching the slate-gray skies darken, gloom settling over the room. She focused on the fir tree outside so she didn't have to look at him. In the branches a couple of sparrows flitted about, building their nest before the coming storm. Stupid, stupid, she cursed herself. How did you think this was going to end up? “You aren't coming back." she stated, her voice catching in her throat a little.
He shook his head, looking at the ceiling. “All those people," he said, “all those people I saw at the reunion. They'll be there next year, and then the year after that. They'll be there when I come back, eventually. They got family, they got land, they got a favorite fishing spot, they got a bar they go to, they got a booth in the corner of that bar, they got a pretty waitress…or surly bartender…that's just like them there. They got chains. Chains they build one link at a time over a lifetime made out of things they never did." He looked at her. “I'm not going to be one of those people."
Krissy watched the birds in the rain. “Am I one of those people?"
Jared looked at her in the crook of his arm. I mean really looked at his Aunt. The crow's feet. The subtle sag. The graying wiry fur between her breasts. Her eyes, looking away. “They would've run you out of town on a rail - hell, they've been tryin' to do that for 20 years. You're stronger'n all of 'em," he said, surprised how certain he sounded. “They can't hurt you 'less you let them."
She squeezed her eyes shut, running her hoof through his chest hair. A moment later she wiped her eyes. “You're a real charmer." She sighed “Must work wonders on those pretty does at college." She paused, about to sass him, he could tell. Instead she looked up at him plain and simple. “Thank you for that."
He kissed her then, and she kissed him back in that gray misty dawn. They held each other close, taking their time. She slid her hoof down his chest, cradling his goat-hood tenderly as the kiss spun out, tilting her head to one side, her tongue dancing against his. He trailed his hoof across her back, pulling her closer as she gripped him, feeling the nubs of her breasts slide sensuously across his chest. She moaned into his mouth, shifting her grip to encircle the base of his rising member. He broke the kiss, finally, a line of saliva hanging between their open mouths for a moment. “Oh Krissy," he gasped, “you're gettin' my engine runnin' again."
The older goat cradled his cheek in her other hoof, her golden eyes meeting his. “Please," she whispered, “you can call me Christine."
Jared nodded, eyes wide. “Christine," he breathed, their lips closer and closer. “don't stop what you're doin'." Her lips found his, eyes half-lidded. Her hoof teased him, playfully, and he felt himself growing full and proud again in her grip. She broke the kiss, pressing her heated body against his as she worked him faster and firmer, building him up until his hips bucked a little and he grunted…close to release…
“Shhhh….." she whispered, holding him firm, “…easy now love…". Her leg thrown awkwardly over his torso, hooves trailing down his chest, feeling the heat of her treasure pressing against his belly as she positioned herself unsteadily above his erect cock. She braces herself carefully with one hoof splayed against his chest, reaching between them to guide him into her as she impales herself on his rigid maleness, the small nubs of her breasts poking through her graying fur in wild arousal.
His hooves settle, almost unbidden, on her thighs as she utters a long, satisfied sigh, head lolled back in pleasure. He looks up at her, framed in the halo of gray light from the window. She's so light, he thinks to himself. So delicate, yet so commanding of him in every way at this moment. He is sunk deep within her, her mature motherhood fully engulfing his inexperience, his lust, his animal instinct. The words rise to his lips, coming forth in a shaky whisper: “You're beautiful."
The older goat looks down on him, a smile playing around her lips. She licks them seductively. “You make me feel that way, lover," she murmurs. She tents her hooves on his midriff, supporting herself as she begins to slowly rock against him. “You make me feel…so…" here she gasps, drawing herself back, sliding along his turgid girth, before pushing herself down on him again, “...oh so good. Like a woman again."
A dull rumble of thunder sounds somewhere far away, and in that heady, pre-dawn bedroom she begins to ride atop her younger lover. Nephew, kin, blood…all these labels worn away by the friction of her needful loins against his desire. Christine tilts her head to the side, her mouth half open, eyes wide and fixed upon him. “Give it all to me," she implores, lust and pleasure beginning to engulf her thoughts, “I want t-to…ohhhh…feel you explode inside me…"
Jared felt her urgency, bucking up to meet her the best he could. “...god…damn…" he huffed through gritted teeth, trying to hold onto the pleasure even as it rose inside him. The musky smell of their shared arousal, her heated panting, the weight on his hips, the slickness of her sex plunging again and again down his rigid cock punctuated with the squeak of the bed-frame threatened to overwhelm his senses. He put his arm across his eyes helplessly as his Aunt rode him without mercy in the pre-dawn light. He'd given up on drawing this out - the way the older woman moved against him was making it nearly impossible, using up all of his reserves of concentration. “Gettin'...close…" he moaned breathlessly.
The place they fit together was a mess of soaked fur. She braced herself atop him, rolling her hips against his pelvis, driving herself onto him with increasing frenzy. “Oh god…." She rasped, “Ohhhhh…..Jerri…." Her rhythm against him reaching a crescendo, “I'm cumming!" She bleated, over and over, her quivering hips jerking against him, soaking him in her juices as she reached a plateau of pleasure, spurred ever higher by his throbbing cock.
It was enough to send him toppling over the edge. The younger goat felt his sack tense, his breath catching in his throat as he grabbed her hips, grinding into her. They both felt the first warm jet of his spunk into her grasping pussy, and then another just as strong, each one a burst of pleasure for both lovers. He held her there on top of him, in control now, grinding desperately up against her as his body unloaded into her willing form, again and again. No words, just gasps of pleasure between the two in what seemed an endless moment in time as their bodies, one young and one old, told them what they must do together.
She slid her hooves back down his chest, lowering the whole of her body to press against him, shivering in the aftermath. Even then she held him inside of her as long as she could, reveling in the warmth of their union, unwilling to let go of this perfect moment. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her against his exhausted form, feeling as one with her as she felt with him.
*******************
She woke later to the sound of rain pattering against her windowsill. Outside, the rusty creak of a car door, a half-heard conversation in her yard. She rolls over on her side, laying her arm across the wrinkled bed sheets where Jared used to be, keeping the last bit of his departing warmth for herself. Outside he's talking with his Pa, about what she can't tell. He seems subdued, though, she thinks. Maybe a little weary.
When the engine turns over she cries silently for a bit, quiet so she can hear the sound of the car carrying him back out of her life. And then after a while she's done crying. It wasn't doing her any good anyways.
She throws on a robe and pads through her empty house. In the kitchen there's a familiar friend next to the sink, and she reaches for the bottle of wine almost subconsciously, grateful for the numbness it promises.
She pauses by the windowsill, bottle half-way to her lips. She can feel the chill from outside as autumn approaches, watching with dawning wonder at the constant stream of birds alighting in the tree in her yard. They flutter for a moment, shaking off the water from their feathers, but soon enough they're gone, heading south. She looks down at the lip of the bottle,then back out at the birds in the rain, really seeing them. She thinks about the younger goat, with his older truth: _You're stronger'n all of 'em. _
Which way to go?
She tips the bottle, untouched, into the sink. It wasn't doing her any good either.
***********
You're heading back east, over trees that are speckled with autumn colors now. Past the skeleton of a ruined factory 20 years gone, the dirt road giving way to asphalt beyond the dead gas station. Smaller roads feeding into bigger ones, asphalt rivers rushing to the sea.
Deep in the steel and glass canyons of the City, under a primrose patterned umbrella an older goat pauses for a moment at a crosswalk, tilting her head back to look at the slice of gray skies between the skyscrapers, squinting a little bit in the drizzle. On her back is a book bag full of nursing coursework, and on her front a green frilly apron from the local coffee house. The gray sky above is filled with a river of birds, wheeling and dipping, heading South in the rain towards warmer days.
One day, she thinks, I'll head south myself.
“No one knows what became of her — all we know is she got away.
And though there really ain't no guarantees out here, I'd like to think she did okay"
Blues Traveler , Price to Pay