Grandpa's Mirror - 4
Like all stories, this is fictional. All characters are fictional. Nothing is real.
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I gasp as I stand and my dick flexes. My balls spasm and my jizz goes in his ass and drips down. I pull back and spatter on his back. I wrap him in my arms. I push my dick into his ass, but not hard. I spasm again and again. I love his warm hot body receiving my love and I hug him. I feel my lips go to his neck. I kiss him tenderly as my hand reaches around. I feel his boy jump a little as he spurts his last. I think it hits the floor.
"Jesus-Oh-my-gawd-fuck-ing-holy-shit!" Lucas whispers.
I say nothing. I don't know what more there is to say. I just took a brand new friend to another world and fucked him, while being sandwiched by a prepubic blonde haired god. I penetrated. I got penetrated. I don't think I want to try girls now, I think I am where I am supposed to be.
"Let go." Lucas says.
"Sorry." I say not realizing that I am squeezing him. His body heat seems more real and tangible in the real world. His back is smooth and has a sensual texture of smooth skin combined with ripples of muscle. I pull back and my used to be boner drops out. My pecker felt a soft cool breeze on it. I knew better than to do more. It will hurt. After spunking that hard, I was done and I'd bet good money that Lucas is too.
I wipe myself down with a towel. I wipe Lucas's back down. I love his muscles, his ripples and back landscape. It is gorgeous. I hand him the towel knowing that only he will know how much pressure his now delicate organs can take with causing discomfort that bordered on pain.
We drank a bit of water I had stashed away. Oddly, neither one of us were sweating.
The idea hit me as I had one knee on the bed about to climb in, "How long were we in there?"
Lucas shrugs. I walk over to the phone and look, "We were there for," I pause for dramatic effect, "Thirty five seconds."
"What?" Lucas grabs the phone from my hand, "That can't be. It felt like twelve hours. We were on Jack for at least an hour. I was so tired."
He looks at the phone, rolls his eyes and says, "Shit. That's unbelievable. I'm exhausted."
"Yeah. Me too." I reply, "Let's just go to bed and figure it out in the morning."
And we do. Neither of us dress. I roll over sometime in the night and am spooning Lucas, his puffy ass has my hard dick. I try to go back to sleep, but I won't if I don't change something. I peel myself off of Lucas's back, find my way to the edge of the bed and get up. My raging boner stands up with me. I go out into the barnyard under the bright moon. I piss passed my boner, tap to get the last of the piss gone and go back inside and back to sleep.
The next morning I wake up late. The heat is baking the granary. I roll over to an empty spot. I sit up. Lucas is gone. I hope he hasn't freaked out at everything we did and wants to go home and wants nothing to do with me. My anxiety level rises as I push thoughts of rejection or worse, everyone finds out and they start calling me 'fag' at school. I push my imagination to the side. The sun is up pretty high. I check my phone. A half hour till breakfast and Grandpa isn't probably in a hurry to come roust us.
I weigh the option of going out and pissing again nude or putting on something. I decide to chance it. I go out around the corner and there's Lucas's lily white ass. I smile inside. He never left.
"PIss time too eh." I say.
"Yeah, I figured your Grandpa could catch me, but pissing naked in the barnyard doesn't seem like such a big deal after last nights trip in the mirror." He says.
"And being covered in Centaur jizz and being glued naked to my best friend." I can't believe I just called him my best friend.
"Or having your ass pounded by a thousand year old naked god kid." Lucas laughs. The image of Pim up my ass makes my stomach feel funny.
"Or being the middle of a god boy sandwich. At least it wasn't a goat sandwich." I laugh at myself. It is all so surreal. Lucas let's a hearty laugh out as he turns around. His long circumcised dick is flacid and I can't help but look.
My stream finishes, "Grandma is making waffles with blue berry whip cream." I change the subject.
We go in and change from naked to clothed. We go to the house and eat. We don't mention the mirror or our night's activities again. The morning disappears as we fart around the farm and then Lucas gets a text. His mom picks him up. I hang with the grandfolks and I get a text. Mom picks me up.
I walk into my house back in the city, the noise of the traffic backdrops everything, on a Sunday afternoon trying to get ready for the idea of another school day tomorrow and a week of drudgery mixed in with video games. Before the mirror, I thought that video games were so immersive and real, 'Like the real thing,' I used to think.
Now my evenings were duller. I sleep. I wake. School. Soccer. Hang with Todd. Video games. Sleep. And my routine just keeps on keeping on. I still jerk it in the shower with visions of Lucas and Plim and Pim. And in the morning. And at school in the stalls. And at night. It's not the same. I pester Mom to go to the farm on the weekend. Can't. Soccer tournament on Saturday. Then time slips past, and event after event, excuse after excuse, I never get to the green granary again till school is done.
Summer vay-cay finally sets my young soul free from the complete monotony of the mundane. I sit in the passenger seat waiting for Grandma and Grandpas farm to come floating into view in the windshield. I try to contain my excitement. I squirm in my seat.
"You are way too excited to go to the farm." Mom knows me too well, "We used to have to drag you there. And then when you saw the neighbors stallion take his piss, I thought your eyes were going to jump out of your face."
"Mom!" I groan. It makes her laugh and I couldn't help but laugh too. I add, "I was just a kid then."
I check my phone. I read it. Barclay is gone a trip with his family. Lucas is gone too. They both will be back, like, in a month. I was going to be doing it alone. Again. The memory of the mirror sitting in the corner fades in. It's almost as if I can see it real time, the sun dodging past it as it sits in the shadows waiting for night. The two dark figures are nearly black, naked, etched in Oak on the side, waiting. The pan holds a flute in one hand and the boy holds flowers.
Finally the car stops and I hop out forgetting my backpack in the car. I run and look for Grandpa in the farm yard. It takes a few tries, he is not feeding the chickens, cleaning the barn or checking on the goats. Finally I try a previously vacant outbuilding and find him using his tools to fix something or another.
"Grandpa!" I yell and run and give him a big hug.
"Carter!" He hugs me back fiercely. It feels so good and I can't tell you why.
"What is new on the farm?" I ask.
Grandpa laughs, "The same as last time but I'm a little older. Everything seems to be trundling along. How was your school year? I heard you did really well this year."
We talk a bit. I give him my unimportant gossip on all my friends, my soccer standings and my school scores. He nods and listens and asks a few questions. I bring the conversation around and say, "Barclay and Lucas are both on holidays for, like, a month."
"Well, that's too bad. I know something interesting will come up. It always seems to be interesting, even if you don't want it to be. This week, we got the last of the contractors out to fix our roof. Everything has been delayed because of one reason or another. But next week, we'll be cleaning out the granary and get everything back in it's place."
I frown.
"Well, I know that you enjoy sleeping out there. So me and Grandma added a few additions to the granary to make it a little more comfortable. We decided to rename it, 'The Green Guest House.'"
I smile, "I can still sleep out there?
"All summer and into the fall. I added a wood stove. Unless you burn it down, then you can't stay out there if it's burned down."
"Grandpa!" I complain.
Grandpa laughs and adds, "Are you going to go get settled? I'll bet you forgot your pack in the car again."
"No sir." I lie with a grin.
"Go get your stuff and get settled. I got to finish up here. You can poke around the farm and see our new pigs and sheep. We are playing cards after supper, so you better be ready for an ass kicking."
I laugh and run and get my pack. I bring it back to the green granary. I wonder if the mirror is still there and if it's the same as last time. Last time was pretty fucked up, though. Does it always spiral down into insanity? Is it me that fucks it all up or is Plim a real thing in a real place and he's tinkering with my mind and my junk? He seems a sex junkie, like that's all he has in life that makes anything in his world make sense. Nothing over there makes sense. Is it really over there? That time thing is fucked. I'm sure we were over there for half a day and the phone said we were there for less than a minute.
I have a nagging doubt that Lucas isn't on holidays, but is just so weirded out with all the batshit crazy stuff we did together that he doesn't want to come over. I decide to not worry. Him and me connected so hard, I think we are soul mates, maybe.
I open the door to the green granary. Grandpa was busy indeed. The inside is painted. But not painted, like adult colors, with beige and all the other words that describe shit brown, but the walls were bright red, dark red, medium red and the ceiling was a green. The floor had an old threadbare tapestry rug thrown over the bare wood floor boards. I scan the room looking for it. It is hiding in the corner right where I saw it in my vision on the ride over. Was it a vision or an imagination? The mirror is dark. I walk passed the streaming light of the window and touch the wooden carvings.
The oval mirror with the gods carved by the hinges sits silently. Plim is there, his fur down his legs and his man sex limp and hard as it always was before. Pim is naked and his little boy goods are a small dot in his middle, his sweet smile looks amused and his head is tilted as he holds the flowers. I pull myself away and look around. The couch that was sloughed off into the corner is now sitting in the middle of the room, well worn and looking very comfortable. Everything looks more in order.
I unpack and crack open the window. There's a screen on it, so I can let air in while keeping bugs out. An old little black wood stove sits in a corner by the door, ready for a fall blustery day to be lit up. I close the door and take my time visiting all the farm and the animals. I stop at the goat pen and notice the little goat features, their blank eyes have square pupils. Plim's eyes seemed human, if I remember correctly. I check the goats fur and ears and odd things that only goats have. I leave the goat pen and go back to the house.
Grandma is bustling in the kitchen pulling out cold cuts, cheese and various snack style foods. Tonight was going to be a light supper. I always eat till I'm full, and then have to make room for desert, which is always home baked and wonderful. I make a tour of the upstairs bedroom. There's not much for building tools and the spare room along with my old room look nearly complete and empty. The roof is as solid as it always was with freshly painted boards and a smell of drying paint that clings to the air.
We eat supper. I retell my life story about school, a girl I liked, but who likes another boy, my soccer achievements and disappointments. They ask questions. I give answers. They smile and encourage me at all my mundane life. The old telephone rings, not like an electronic ring, but an old fashioned bell and little gong that vibrates back and forth. Grandma answers the phone. Grandpa and I pretend not to listen in. She talks. A cousin of mine truck broke down. He's stuck somewhere close.
Grandpa doesn't wait for Grandma to get off the phone. He goes to where the keys hang and pulls the truck keys off.
Grandma hangs up the phone, "I guess Bogota's broke down." She doesn't wait for us to ask.
"Bogota is a person?" I ask.
"He's your cousin." Grandma says.
"I thought I knew all my cousins." I reply.
"You do. Sort of. " Grandpa chuckles, "That's my brother's grandson."
"That makes him my cousin?"
"Second cousin." Grandma explains, "But blood is blood. We got to go pick him up. Tow truck is going to be there in fifteen and he's ten minutes out. He won't stay in no Motel. He's family." She says it like someone was arguing with her. I look at Grandpa.
Grandpa says, "I'll go pick him up. Won't take but less than an hour. You two can get everything ready."
Grandma nods. I ask, "What do I got to do to get ready?"
"He's got to sleep somewhere, Carter. He'll be bunking with you. So go out to the Green Granary and tidy up so he doesn't think you are a slob." Grandpa says as he hurries out the door and the door closes behind him.
"What?" I ask to no one.
"Your Grandpa gets all excited when it comes to that side of the family. Dont' worry, Carter. You don't got to tidy up nothing. You see, your Grandpa had a big fight with his brother that lasted years. They patched it up, but we still don't get along with that side of the family much. Helping out Bogota will either make things better or worse. Either way. He's family and we have to stick together." Grandma finishes her speech and takes a plate out. She loads it up with half of all the cold cuts till the plate was heaping.
I help clean off the table. Grandma scolds me when I don't wash something good enough or miss something. In no time at all we have the dessert out and plates set, the mound of food waiting for Bogota.
We wait for a few minutes. Grandpa bursts in the door in mid sentence, "They always did breakdown. And don't fret about putting us out. We got plenty and you are family. So don't go stand on some soapbox about anything else, I won't hear of it."
He follows Grandpa. He tries to look smaller than he is. He stands a head taller than me and he is not small so much as muscular and more muscular. He is wearing a cowboy hat which comes off right away and is hung up beside his coat. His button shirt is plaid and covers some of his undershirt, which covers his muscles that bulge no matter the layers. His arms make the shirt tight. His hair is light brown and his eyes are dark brown. His head is wide and his features attractive. Did I mention his big muscles? I think my eyes were too big.
I will admit I feel intimidated. He stands a foot taller than me. His jeans are tight. His bulge in the center of his jeans is huge. My imagination tells me that his pecker is twice my size and his balls, my guess is, they are bigger still.
"Who?" I wonder aloud, "Are you?"
His brown eyes smile and he offers his hand, "I'm Bogota."
I grab his hand. His callous hand is firm, rough and he holds a fraction longer than I expect. He lets go. We sit down. He is nervous in front of the Grandparents. He talks quietly and doesn't offer too many words. They pepper him with questions about the family and all that.
My ears perk up when I hear grandma ask, "How's the Broncs these days? Last we heard you were pretty high in the standings?"
"What? What's a Bronc?" I interrupt, not waiting for Bogota to answer.
"A horse." He quietly answers. He is nearly done his double plate of food.
"Why is that a thing?" I ask, "I don't get it."
"The broncs is another way of saying bronco busting, which is another way of saying that your cousin Bogota here, is a world class athlete. He rides the broncs at the rodeos. He even went to Canada to the Calgary Stampede and came in first place there." Grandpa's chest puffs out a little as he tells us.
"Second." Bogota answers.
"Still, that's an international event. And you came in first in Phoenix?" Grandma is smiling.
"Dallas. I do okay." Bogota answers.
My questions come out like a gatling gun, "Woah. How much do you win? Have you been bucked off? Have you been stomped on? How much do you practice? Where do you get the broncs to bust? Does it hurt them?"
"I make it and spend it." He says quietly.
Grandma gives me a look and I think now is a good time to shut up. We eat dessert. Grandma made some layer cake so rich it felt like eating heaven, but it's made of pure butter. We broke out the cards after the table was cleared and Bogota held his own in card play, but not conversation.
The score pad shows Bogota is five points behind Grandma and Grandpa and me are vying for dead last. The evening is worn out and I yawn.
"So you are okay to bunk with Carter?" Grandma looks at Bogota.
"Sure." Bogota quietly says.
"Don't worry. I don't snore." I try to make a joke and make him feel comfortable. He nearly smiles.
We leave armed with a torch that I brought. I shine it around the barnyard as we walk through the dark passed all of the obstacles a farm yard offers. The green granary gets bigger, the door is latched. I open it and walk in. The cool air is outside and the stuffy warm afternoon air is trapped inside. I feel an urge to shed my clothes immediately. I hold off. I don't know Bogota at all. There's even bad blood between family I didn't know I had. I know I am on Grandpas side, no matter what. I light the lamp with the matches and hang the flashlight by the door.
I still shuck my shirt and it is thrown to the corner of the guest house, towards the mirror. It stares ominously at me, but I ignore it.
"You don't talk." I tell Bogota.
"I try." He says.
"So what's it like to be a bronc buster?" I ask.
He pulls out his phone and digs through the phone. He hands it to me. I look down. Bogota slides carefully down onto a raging caged horse. The horse is angry and ready to spring. The gate opens and so is hell. The horse bursts out into an arena. jThe crowd cheers. The horse is pissed. It bucks like a demon. Bogata rides the horse flailing his feet in rhythm to the bucking. Finally, it slows down and he allows himself to be thrown off the horse where he lands gingerly on his feet while the stallion continues it's rampage. The video ends and I look up.
Bogota is taking off his outside shirt. I can't help but stare. His chest is from comics. He has a huge chest and his arms are muscle wrapped in skin. He doesn't stop taking things off. I hope he takes it all off. I watch. His boots and socks come off. His white wife beater tee comes off. I see his bare smooth chest. His abs are chiseled. He has huge man pecs boobs. They reflect the man perfection of strength and masculinity.
He stops and sits on the couch.
I glance at the mirror in the shadows. It's silent. Bogota should have pulled off his pants but doesn't. I suck back my disappointment. But he unbuckles his belt and pulls it off. It clanks hitting the floor and he leans back and stretches his arms out his pants still on. He flexes as he yawns.
His incredible torso moves me. My boner is cockeyed in my shorts. I risk it. I stick my hand in my shorts and adjust.
He doesn't say anything about my obvious bone. It sticks up in my shorts and I am sure that anyone would notice. But then he doesn't say anything about anything.
I decide to be brave, "Bogota"
He doesn't say anything, but looks at me.
"Bogota," I push on, "I don't know what you think of sex or anything, but this is my house and I like to do stuff."
He gets a little grin on his face and nods. He sure doesn't talk much. My heart is pounding and I know I shouldn't say more. I wished I could be like Bogota, muscular and quiet.
I say, "Why don't you talk more?"
"Quiet waters run deep." He says with a smirk at the end.
I laugh. He laughs.
"I'm going to trust you." I offer and pause. I probably shouldn't say more, "I jerk off. A lot. I do it naked out here. I'm a horny bugger." I look at him for some reaction. He only smiles. I give up on him having a conversation with me.
I press on, like I'm walking against a gail wind, "Grandpa caught me about a month ago. He says that we are all just people. So, since you are a guest in my house, I am hoping it doesn't offend you if I indulge. And if you got any booze on you, I wouldn't mind to sip a little."
"I got no booze. I don't drink." He says quietly. I look into his eyes to see if he's fucking with me.
I get up off the couch to test him. He says nothing. His non-answer should unnerve me. I can almost feel the power of the mirror drawing me in and I'm willing to risk a family tiff to widen or close with what I do next.
I stand in front of him and reach for my snap of my shorts. It snaps. I wiggle a bit and they drop to the floor. Bogota looks at me in the eyes and gives a little smile. My gawnch tents. He glances at it.
His teeth glint as he grins and he says, "Call me Bogey."
"Bogey, like the fighter jet movies?" I let out a breath. He doesn't answer. I struggle out of my gawnch. I stand in front of him naked, my bone pointing up. I pretend not to notice that his groin has gotten a little bigger too. Maybe if I play it cool he'll join me.
I walk over to the mirror and look into it. I have grown a little, maybe, but I can't tell. My muscles are well defined, but pretty small, and my pecker, for all it's uncut glory isn't really a monster. It's a good size though. I pull at my balls. They don't hang down, but have gone up. I like it when they hang. The smooth bag is crinkled like an old person, but the skin is smooth. I should just shut up and grab the mirror and go. I shouldn't talk to my cousin. I shouldn't tell him anything. He's probably completely straight. With a body like his, I'll bet he has fucked plenty of girls, the pretty kind with big lips, big tits and tight ass.
Bogey is now standing behind me. He says, "So that's the mirror."
"What?" I ask.
"Our family has a few whispers every once in a while, you know, like at reunions and stuff. There's a few that say Uncle has a pornographic mirror. It has magic. No one exactly says what it does, but it's something to do with sex. I didn't think it was real." He says.
I want to mention that he can actually talk and that he has a nice quiet voice. I am afraid if I do, he'll stop. I decide I like him. I look in the mirror over my shoulder. His eyes wander over the mirror's edge. He glances at my prize. His eyes linger a little as he drinks in my body and then looks at the carvings.
"Want to find out what it does?" I ask.
His voice gets really husky, "Okay." I can't see his sex behind me, but I imagine that it is hard and pushing his jeans out, or making an outline.
"Do what I do and when I do it." I tell him in a commanding voice. I don't tell him more. I'm not sure if it's the right thing to do, the moral thing. But the magic seems to not have morals and makes things that were once black and white, gray.
I reach out with my arms. Bogey does what I do, his bare chest touches my back. His breath exhales onto my neck blowing onto my ear. I don't hesitate, I touch Plim's penis. Bogey follows. I touch Pim's little sprout. I think Bogey did too, but the flash was instant.
It didn't stop. The deafening noise followed but it doesn't stop. I know time is fucked up from our world to the next and that's pretty much all I know, but something is wrong. Very wrong.
Blackness follows and then silence.
My ears ring. It is dark. I open my eyes and see the big silver disc hang in the sky, just passed the trees. I have to stand. Whatever happened must have made me pass out. Now I shiver as a breeze blows across my naked body. I look for Bogey. I'm alone. This does not feel right at all.
I call, "Bogey! Bo - Gee!"
I listen. Dead silence except for a few crickets that are muted.
I try again, " Bo- Ga - Ta! Bogey!" and remember to add, "Plim! Pim!"
The crickets sound a little louder. I strain to hear further. I think I hear a little flute. The slight breeze takes the sound away for a moment and then I get an idea of the direction. I walk. My feet are wet as I fumble through the dark. I avoid the deep shadows of the trees so I can see where I am going.
The flute is louder now and I see a red light dancing beyond a copse of trees. I cut a straight line and find myself running. The bon fire had a few figures moving.
I get to the fire and everything is lit in orange and red dancing shadows. Plim stops his flute, "Wow, Woah, Wow. You made it Carter Carter McCoy. I knew you would. Wow, woow. See Pim? I told you."
I look at the other two figures. One is Pim, the naked thousand year old boy who looked ten. The other is new. He has goat feet and a boys chest. His arms and torso are completely boy, but where his junk should hang, I see fur. I am curious to know this new boy, but other matters run to the front of my mouth.
"Where's Bogey?" I blurt it out, and add, "What happened?"
"I will tell you, I will tell you." Plim dances. His big dink is soft and his balls hang as he struts around, "Wooooooooooooooo. The other boy, the man boy, the beautiful shapely sexy man boy wore pants."
"So?"
Pim pipes up, "You always come as you are. That's why it was so easy for you to cross."
"I just sort of did by accident." I say.
Plim shakes his head so hard his goat ears make a flapping noise as it hits his head, "And it works for you. You are nearly a master here. You brought that other boy, woow wow wowwee, what was his name? Luke? Luca? Lucas. Yess. He was nice. I liked his big little balls and he touched me nicely too. He was bare skinned from head to toe too. Butt fucking naked. Yes? And he gave great sex naked. Nude. As the primal forces should be. Yes?"
"So where is Bogey? I feel responsible for bringing him. Did he even make it? I am worried."
Spot. The man weeeew boy made it here," The nameless goat boy pipes up, but, spot, he is in another spot. Weeee weew weee wee. Another spot."
"Who are you? What other spot?" I ask.
"Weee. I am Pen." His voice is young like a boy's but he still sounds like he is singing when he talks, "I am what I am. You are not. I am a Faun. I am a relative of Plim, but not Pim and I see you are wondering about my, weeee, sex."
"Sex is pretty popular around here and you have fur where your junk should be." I say and remember I'm buck naked, so I stick mine out so Pen can look closer at it. He laughs as he reaches out and explores me. I feel his fingers run down my shaft. He fondles my balls. I grow stiff. He stops and then says, "Your turn."
I run my hands down his smooth chest and into the fur right about where pubes should be. I find a little flesh. I part the fur and a big penis that looks more goat than boy grows out. I dig around a little lower and feel to little furry balls.
"I still need to find Bogey. You still haven't told me where the other spot is." I say. I'm masturbate the little goat dick up and down.
Plim laughs, "No worry Wow wow wowser. I will get you close and explain a few important things to you." He picks up his flute and gives an extremely long note.
Plim looks at Pen who has his head thrown back. My fingers don't stop as I work him up and down. I feel guilty. I shouldn't be to be trying this without Bogota. I feel guilty he is missing. I remember that time here is different, but now that I've arrived at night, will that change it something?
I like the little goats thing. It wasn't boy dick and Pen moaned, so I sped up. He spunked and a little bolt of electricity went up my arm. Instead of disappearing, the spider web of electricity danced on my skin, up my arm, around my chest, around my belly button and into my wang. I jumped as the zap hurt and startles me. I yip.
The animal people all giggle at me.
"Pleasure to meet you Pen." I say as I bring my fingers up to my nose and sniff. Flowers. I taste the sticky goo. Licorice, the black kind.
"Duck." Pim says.
"What?" I ask.
Pim dives at me and his little body hits me so hard I fall over. I feel something just brush past my body as it lays in the dirt. I look up in time to see the ass of a horse and the hooves hit the ground making the galloping noise.
"Thanks." I say.
"Wooow he's here. Pim. Run. You don't want to be stomped like last time, do you?" Plim laughs. Pim's white ass moves as he runs into the darkness. An angry whinny fills the air. I turn to the horse. His wings are spread out and he folds them down.
"Don't go into the city naked. Wow. And Matt here will take you. Matt, please calm down. You can Woooow woow squish Pim next time. Carter Carter McCoy is worried. Fly fast."
Plim begins to play his flute and the big horse nuzzles me. I pet Matt on his nose. His breath warms my hand. He opens a massive wing inviting me to climb onto his back. The Pegasus is black. There is white tips on the wings and he has white socks. I grab the massive wing, his mane and heave myself on the top. I feel the big horse beneath my naked butt. This hasn't been a very good sex visit so far.
We fly through the night and the sun breaks over the horizon. We are flying over the clouds. The sun turns everything pink. Matt says something. I don't speak horse. He folds his wings in and we drop. I start to float off his back and find my fingers clenched around his mane.
I scream.
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