The Satyr's Dance
Stars twinkled over the land from their vast sable blanket of sky. Occasionally a falling star would grace the darkness with a shower of light before vanishing. Deep in the Southbend forest, a warm glow and cheery music rose up from the hidden glade as a bonfire roared in its center. The area was full of horned, hoof-shorned Satyr men (for there are no Satyr women). They danced and caroused about, drinking, eating and playing their instruments. It is well known that Satyrs are great party-people who love their joyous and more often than naught raucous affairs. Teasing, good natured ribbing and the yanking of tails is abundant. Also luminous in the night were ethereal winged figures no bigger than a man's palm. Their shrill laughter carried across the glade like the sounds of tiny glasses breaking. Every once in a while one would rest lightly upon the shoulders, head or back of one of the satyrs, exhausted and drunk off honeysuckle wine.
As the party wore on, one particulary graceful Satyr named Myr stood and danced, playing his pipes along with the other men. His long white tail swished along with his hips as he moved, undulating about the fire. Upon his shoulders, a miniscule figure rested, moving only to twitch her wings and send a shower of light and fine glitter that landed upon his body. As he moved, it caught the light and the eyes of several other Satyrs in the group. But all the while, his silver eyes bore into another young Satyr, who was sitting along with some other men, eating, talking and laughing. He had caught sight of him earlier, and had not taken his eyes from him all night. Every once in a while, Myr would hear the voice of his winged companion whispering to him. Her metallic voice rang in his ears above the sounds of the party and encouraged his desires. As if she knew what he was thinking.
As if the young man could feel his gaze, his head turned, and his emerald eyes flickered as he caught sight of Myr. Myr continued to dance and stare at him, his movements becoming more beckoning, and he tossed his horns, flipping one long snow-coloured braid over his shoulder. He also noticed the wisp lounging about on his shoulder also staring at him. Her eyes, the only part of her that was defined from her glow, burned into his own. She stood and danced upon the shoulder, her glimmering flame only enhancing the movements of her host. The young Satyr stood and jauntily walked over, falling into step with the dance that Myr had begun.
They moved together, untouching, but never looking away from each other. It was a dance of lust, of need, of concupiscence. A kind of unspoken understanding had formed between them. Myr's companion moved closer to his neck, clinging to the short fur there. Still her reedy voice continued to encourage him. Whispers of ardor flowed from her lips to his ears.
The song ended, and Myr at once turned from the dark-haired man before him, swaying off from the fire and the rest of the men to the trees and darkness. He knew the other would follow. The wisp flew off into the low branches of a tree and watched, her luminous eyes never leaving his actions.
He stopped at a large dogwood tree. Blooms of fragrant pink flowers hung down over a thick carpet of moss. As he waited, he heard soft hoofsteps approaching him, then a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Quickly, he grabbed the young man and pulled him around, shoving him against the bark of the tree. He held him there and kissed him roughly. The young man seemed shocked at first, then returned the kiss, his arms going about Myr's neck. Myr put his arms around him, his large hand going up to entwine in the others unbound silky dark hair. He broke the kiss.
"What's your name?" He asked urgently. He locked his eyes onto those of the younger man.
"Kieryn." Came the breathless answer. Unblinking he stared into the eyes of the older Satyr, his pupils dilated with yearning.
"Kieryn," he said. "I"m going to have you. If you have a problem with this...speak now."
And with that, he grabbed hold of the younger man's horns, tilting back his head and voraciously nibbling at his neck and shoulders. Kieryn groaned and closed his eyes.
"Yes, yes... Have me any way you want," he said in a low moan. He arched against Myr, pushing his already engorged sex into the soft white fur that covered his leg. Myr returned the favour, his hips gyrating in a slow movement against Keiryn, their organs rubbing against each other.
Myr began travelling down Kieryn's deeply tanned chest, his hungy lips finding the dark bud of his hard nipple. He bit it gently, then licked it, sucking it into his mouth. Kieryn groaned, his head falling back to rest against the tree. Myr continued further down Kieryn's body, exploring with his mouth, lips, tongue, teeth.
His hands rested on the younger man's thighs, and he stopped, pulling back to look up at the chestnut haired boy, giving him an almost teasing look. Kieryn rocked his hips forward, his body churning with desire, the look on his face pleading. Myr smiled up at him, then eagerly took the hard member into his mouth.
Kieryn groaned loudly, his hands threaded through Myr's ivory hair as Myr worked him. Myr's mouth was neverending, as he swirled his tongue around the younger man. Agile he was as he took his pleasure. Sighing and panting with each lick, each suck, he began to shudder, signalling that he was about to explode. He felt tiny licks and bites on his ears and realized that Myr's tiny companion was aiding in this exquisite torture.
Myr pulled off him. "Not yet, my sweet. Not like that."
He pulled him from the tree and pushed him down to his knees on the lush carpet of moss, then moved behind him. He pulled Kieryn up, so that he was sitting upright, and then used his own knee to spread the sandy-haired legs even further. Wrapping his arms around Kieryn's lean chest from behind, he nibbled his ear gently as he positioned himself against the tight opening that lay hidden in the crevice of the boy's body.
He began to push in slowly, very slowly, yet steadily, against the tight, unyielding flesh. Kieryn let a low moan, shifting his hips slightly, and Myr was in, penetrating deeper into the hot flesh that squeezed him, held him. He pulled back and in again, the delicious friction was wonderful to him. His hips began to move easier as he rocked against Kieryn. Myr slipped his hand down to Kieryn's member, bouncing in a wild dance in the air with each thrust he gave, and gripped it. He moved his hand in time with his own thrusts. Kieryns head lolled back against his shoulder as his back arched, his orgasm coming quickly, and soon Myr was clinging tightly to him as his own orgasm wracked his body, his seed spilling deep within the quarters of Kieryn.
The two men tumbled over to the ground, gasping and panting, clinging to each other. Kieryn rolled over on his side, kissing Myr. He lay his dark head on the others shoulder, sighing contently as Myr held him, and soon fell asleep at the rhythm of Myr's heartbeat.
Light broke the next day, filtering through the pink blooms to warm the cheek of Kieryn. His emerald eyes fluttered open, he rolled over lazily to smile at Myr.
He stopped. Myr wasn't there.
He looked on his other side, still there was no Myr.
He blinked. Then he noticed a deep purple bloom laying at the base of the tree. It was a glitter encrusted hyacinth flower. He picked it up and noticed dangling from it was a golden locket. He looked at the locket, and smiled. He put it on over his head, the long chain allowing it to rest over his heart. He wandered off from the tree, back to where the party had been the night before, the smile never leaving his face.
The locket had read, "Find me in your dreams, find me in your heart, find me where our souls have met, when the new moon starts."