Haunted Centaur

It was just past dawn and the sun colored the sky a shy pink. As the summer was nearing its end, there were large cobwebs jeweled with dewdrops, sparkling in the early light. The lush green in the glade glittered with dew as well. The air smelled of moist earth and spices, without a doubt announcing the onset of autumn. He threw his head back and inhaled the scents with relish. Gods, he loved this time of the year. The dust and ashes of high summer were over and the bitter cold of winter was not yet at hand. Laughing out loud he expanded his muscled arms to embrace the world and turned to leave this secluded spot.

He roamed through the woods at will. Nobody knew for sure where he lived, where he slept if he slept. All the people of the land knew for certain was that he brought bad luck. He was aware of the belief, but secretly despised them for their silly superstition. The only thing that kept him from enlightening them, was the advantages it brought him. He tossed his hair in the wind, the dark locks reaching almost to his shoulders and his dark blue eyes had a mischievous spark in them. Let them be scared of him. That kept them well and nice out of his way.

Judging from the sun, he guessed it was about noon as he returned to the little clearing. It was his own favorite spot, very secluded and with a small brook nearby. There even grew a few apple trees and in one spot a nice patch of mushrooms returned every year. It was too early for apples or mushrooms so there was no danger of humans hunting for them. He felt free to stretch his limbs and lie basking in the sun. Under the influence of the warm sun and the soft droning of bees his eyes started to close. Dozing in his private patch of greenery he slipped into dreamtime.

It might have been the cracking of a twig or something that alerted him in the first place. Shifting almost imperceptibly he turned his head in the direction of the sound. He pretended to be asleep and hid the angry glow in his eyes. Who dared to intrude this far into his territory? Although he heard someone moving he could see nothing. Getting more irritated by the minute he gave up his pretense and stood erect. With his head thrown back he looked around him but still with no result. Nobody he could see. Frowning he moved a few paces towards the sounds.

As soon as he started moving the sounds stopped. The minute he stopped moving however, the sounds started again. After three of four times, he gave up. Feeling more than a little uncomfortable, he returned to the middle of the glade and stood with his back to the direction from which the noises came. Maybe that way he could fool whoever was out there. He closed his eyes so he could concentrate on listening.

He opened his eyes again and had to shake his head. A weird dream was clinging to him and making him restless. Nobody was able to sneak up on him, nobody. So where did that dream come from? He knew the dream meant something special, but he was not sure what. Sighing he turned to leave the glade again.

If he wanted to know the meaning of the dream he had to visit Jacob. He groaned at the thought, because the old man always took his time in dispensing his wisdom. And maybe worse, he was not superstitious at all so he treated him the same as he treated other people. Muttering he made his way to the hut of the old man. He could not afford to let the dream slip by.

From a long way off he could hear Jacob busy with his trade. He rounded the bend in the path and saw the old man standing over a big log. His legs braced, he swung an axe with precision, busily carving another coffin. That was all he ever did. Not burying, not comforting the bereaved, only providing the coffin. And of course his talent for explaining the events of dreamtime.

Despite the noise of his work Jacob heard someone approaching and straightened his back, setting his axe against the side of the wooden log. Watching, he admired the visitor as always. The stern face, the broad chest, the beautiful lines of powerful legs and the shining black coat. This time, though, the younger man looked distinctly upset. Jacob frowned. He could not remember ever having seen Conall upset before.

"Conall, welcome." Jacob wiped the sweat of his brow and leaned against the coffin he had been hacking from a piece of oak. "Something to drink? Water? Wine?" He hid a grin when he saw the annoyed look on the other's face. He knew very well that he irritated Conall with his unhurried ways. His guest shook his head but Jacob fancied a drink himself so he walked at his leisure inside to fetch a jug of wine.

When he came back he offered Conall a glass all the same and smiled when the centaur accepted after all. The wine smelled like bitter chocolate and was nearly black in color. Jacob settled himself on the half-finished coffin and sipped from his wine, enjoying the smooth taste and watching the other over the rim of his glass. He noticed how the strong hands clutched the frail goblet.

It took no more than two sips before Conall started speaking, telling him the weird dream and asking for an explanation. Jacob nodded as he listened, encouraging the other to describe his exact feelings. After he heard the whole tale he topped up the goblet and shifted to a place next to Conall.

He patted the younger man on his smooth bronzed shoulder. "I can see it has upset you. But don't worry. I think I can explain if you give me some time." Enjoying the aroma of the wine, he watched Conall empty his second glass. He muttered a bit about seasonal influences, the phase of the moon and coaxed another goblet of wine inside his visitor.

Conall knew he was drinking a bit too fast, but he felt upset all over again. Jacob was being more tiresome than ever and apart from the dream he was feeling bad at ease. The old man was patting him on the shoulder and he felt the gnarled hand sliding along his back, as if he were a damned horse. But before he could chide him, something utterly unexpected happened. Conall was so astonished he opened his mouth in surprise, thereby making it even worse.

The old idiot kissed him! He, kissed by an old man. Conall was completely lost. He had never fancied a man before, but the kiss excited him all the same. The feel of hands caressing the shining coat on his back was completely different than anything he had ever felt before. Up to now he had always been the aggressor, taking the occasional virgin who wandered too far into the woods, but he couldn't say he was very keen on it. Sure, it relieved him, but fun? Not really.

Conall tried to back away, but it was too late. One of the gnarled hands stroked his chest, teasing his nipples to hard points. The other trailed along his side, dropped down to his belly and found its way to his cock. He closed his eyes and threw his head back. It felt incredible. The hands knew exactly how to please him, stroking his chest and his belly, teasing his cock to the brink and then slowing down again. After a while he felt his legs starting to quiver. His mouth was plundered by Jacob's tongue and his cock was pumped by a warm, firm hand. The thumb caressing the underside drove him nearly wild. No longer able to hold back he reared on his hind legs and both front hooves thudded against the half-finished coffin.

"That's better boy." Jacob crooned as the centaur presented his cock and he wasted no time in taking it into his mouth. He sucked and licked, just able to swallow the top to swirl his tongue around, all the while stroking the sides with the silky soft hair. The old man closed his eyes in pleasure. God, he couldn't remember how long he had been dreaming of this. Ever since he first laid eyes on the beautiful creature he had wanted to touch him, taste him, make him cum. He heard the centaur make a groaning sound and felt the big body start to thrust.

Conall felt the pressure in his balls building up and could not stop himself from moving his hips forward. He wanted to fuck that warm, wet mouth. Without thought he bucked, and bucked again. He was oblivious to everything except the tightening in his balls, the tension in his cock. He never noticed that he had kicked over the big log of wood and the final eruption of his seed threw the old man backwards into the half-finished coffin, knocking his skull against the solid wood.

The centaur stood panting on unsteady legs, his tail swishing agitated from left to right. His hands reached out and carefully touched the old man's face. He lay in his half-made coffin, face pale and eyes closed, his breathing shallow. When the hands of the younger man reached him he smiled and looked up into that stern face.

"Don't be upset. I got what I have wanted for many years." Jacob paused for a moment to take another shallow breath. "I still owe you your dream. No, don't stop me. It is this: no steering the wheel of fortune." He smiled into the bewildered face above him. "You cannot escape your destiny because you can't see it coming." The old man closed his eyes and sighed his last breath. Leaving the centaur wondering if he brought bad luck after all.

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