Gunnerkrigg Court A True Frenchman

Renard's claws clicked on the polished stone floor as he followed her back from class. Antimony had imagined that she would get lots of odd looks, allowing a large silver wolf accompany her through the halls, but instead she could hardly get anyone to meet her eye, which she much preferred. Perhaps they were frightened of her companion, or perhaps Gunnerkrigg Court was a strange enough school that such a thing did not look out of place. Either way she was glad of the long walk back to the dorms. Karmatron Dynamics was incredibly dull, and after sitting for close to an hour and a half she was itching to stretch her legs. If she was honest, there was another reason for her fidgetyness. She and Jack had had a bit of a falling out. Nothing serious, but Jack had asked if it would be okay if they fucked other people for a while. Antimony wondered who the lucky wench was that had captured Jack's undivided attention, or if he had just gotten tired of her. Still, she had gone through with the same routine that morning, hoping that Jack would call her and they could meet in some back alley or maintenance closet so she could get fucked silly and carry his hot load around for the rest of the day, but alas, her phone had remained dark and quiet.

Now Antimony felt her insatiable lust sizing up the creature walking beside her. Sometimes she swore that her sexual desire was a whole other person living inside of her with it's own wants and needs and no qualms about filling them. She and Renard had tangled once before, in a moment of passion that still hung over their friendship like an awkward raincloud. Just thinking about it made her wet- his fatherly anger at her sneaking in long after curfew, her drunken taunts, and then... something that they had both somehow expected to happen. She couldn't remember much the next day, only that it had been quick and hairy and had made her twice as sore as Jack's most fervent ministrations. A bead of dew fell down her leg and was rubbed between her inner thighs. She was almost certain Renard could smell her. He had a good nose. It had sniffed out Parley and Smitty, not to mention Kat and Paz. It had picked up Jack's pungent deodorant lurking beneath the booze on her breath.

"I've got the rest of the day off, Rey. What do you want to get up to?" She asked casually.

"You're teasing me again, aren't you?" Renard said.

"That's not fair!" Antimony continued in a mock-outraged voice. "We never hang out anymore!"

"Very well. What do you wish to do?"

"No no, I asked you first."

She was grinning.

"Oh, don't play games with me child."

As they passed a pair of water fountains Antimony bent down to drink out of the short one designed for the first and second-years. Her skirt slid up, revealing the fact that she was not wearing any panties. Hearing no one coming, she took her time sipping from the stream of water, feeling the gusts of cool air from the A/C breeze across her wet mound. She shifted her weight from one leg to another, allowing her tight buttocks to slide past each other seductively. Then, when she was sure Renard had gotten a good long look, she stood and turned around. He had not said a word during this whole exhibition, and he did not speak now.

"You want me to stop playing games? Okay. I am going to ask you a question and I order you to tell me the truth."

She definitely had his attention now. She rarely utilized her power over him, as a sign of respect for their friendship.

"Tell me the one thing you want to do most right now."

She watched as he fought the spell, trying in vain to keep the truth tucked behind his lips, but at last it was wrenched from him.

"I want to be inside you again."

* * *

Her smirk was biting, but the enchantment binding him would not have allowed anything but the truth. Something in him wondered if he would have lied, were he able.

"See, was that so hard?"

"You truly are your mother's child." He replied.

Who could have predicted that after all this time he would at last have his darling fire spirit, but diluted by Anthony, that wretched slip of a man. For that was what Surma always was, and vain little Anthony with his medical knowledge and his prideful, foolish belief that he could control the elemental that enervated her limbs was nothing in comparison. A blip. That he had beaten him to Surma troubled Reynardine greatly. This time, though, Anthony would not be here to steal her from him again. He was still off somewhere, doubtless sulking over his failure to preserve Surma from the inevitable. And Eglamore? He would be no trouble. He too coveted Antimony, but he was a man who obeyed the rules. Reynardine was above the rules. He had existed for far, far longer than Eglamore, and when the burly Court henchmen breathed out his last, Reynardine would be there to watch.

She was leading him down another corridor now, and he followed blindly, helplessly. How many men had pined for this fire spirit down through the ages? How many had had their hopes dashed? No longer. The cycle would end with him. He would enrapture this flame, catching it in the palm of his hand as Anthony could only dream of.

Down a few steps and right, through a set of double doors they went. They were now in a large auditorium, presumably where the drama department put on plays. Reynardine was not much concerned with the school, and avoided it whenever he left the solitude of Antimony and Katerina's dorm room for a walk in the fresh air.

The curtain was down on the stage, and when they walked behind it they found an enclosed space with a couch and chairs for the actors and stage crew to sit in before they went onstage. Props and lighting equipment were strewn all around. Antimony went and sat down on the couch, her legs in a very un-ladylike position. Reynardine could smell her torrid heat. It was a scent that was wrought through with danger- the pungence of a child still adjusting to the amount of bathing that puberty and adulthood would require. Her hands were clasped on her knees. She was watching him with breathless anticipation.

"Well?" She said, after a moment.

Reynardine shared a silent smile with himself. Just like her mother. He was going to savor this.  
He patted up to her, and licked one of her knees.

It was a gentle lick. Tender. Conciliatory. A hound returning to it's master. He licked her fingers, tasting pencil and eraser and the mysterious salts and oils left behind on every school desk. Then his tongue strayed inward, onto the softer flesh of her inner thigh. Now he began to taste her passion. The thing she had been holding back all day. It had run down her legs like an over-ripe fruit, begging to be plucked and tasted. He felt her begin to relax. Some of her youthful jitters ceased as that timeless instinct took over. She opened her legs wider.

It was a beautiful flower indeed. Soft and pink, garnished with a short tuft of hair as red as the locks on her head. Reynardine nuzzled it with his wet nose, eliciting a small start from Antimony. He inhaled a big whiff of that wonderful, dangerous smell. Now he was beginning to become excited. He felt himself stirring, but he could wait. First, he would remove all doubt from her mind that she had made the right choice.

His tongue slipped along the outside of her pubis, and she shivered. Then he did it again. And again. Each time he built up a little more pressure, until his tongue was pressing apart her lips and sliding deeper into her vagina. Every time he did this, Antimony gave an uncontrollable little spasm. Reynardine decided to be cruel and speed up his licking considerably. She thought she could wield him like a puppet? How wrong she was. Antimony gasped, and withing seconds she was consumed by full-body spasms. Her head leaned back as far as the couch would allow, and she gripped the fabric so tightly Reynardine thought it would surely tear. Gradually she came down from her cloudy eyrie. Her eyes were half-lidded, and her breath was deep and long.

Reynardine was getting impatient now. He grabbed the hem of her skirt and pulled her off of the couch. Obediently she turned over, and presented herself. He waited one moment longer for her to scoot her body onto the couch, and then he reared up and mounted her. She was far from the first human that he had made his lover, and so his member, by now fully out of it's sheath, quickly found its target. His feet slammed out like pistons, driving his cock deep inside of her.

Warmth. Ecstasy. Victory.

All thoughts of waiting or holding back fled from his mind. In that moment he imagined impregnating each new descendant of Antimony. The cycle of the phoenix- birth and death -would be safe under his careful watch.

His chin rested against the back of her neck and his paws lay beside her arms as his hips thrusted wildly, anything to get more of that wonderful golden sensation. He felt himself swelling up, and the spurts of cum getting longer and larger. Antimony was insensate beneath him. Her breaths were short and shallow, and between them he could hear something coming from her mouth that could best be described as grunting. Shortly thereafter the spurts rose to a peak and then began to fade rapidly, and Reynardine rested his haunches against her warm backside as the both huffed for breath. They both lay there for a moment, the smell of their own deed wafting over them.

Then Antimony tried to pull herself out from under him. Quickly Reynardine reached out and grabbed her by the nape of the neck.

"Ouch!" Antimony said. "What are you doing!"

Reynardine pulled his hips away from her buttocks and applied pressure on the large swollen knot that was stuck inside her.

"Ow ow ow!" Antimony said again.

"Wait a moment. I must shrink before I can remove myself from you."

So they waited in silence for a while longer. Occasionally Reynardine would try to pull the knot out as gently as she could, but Antimony would hiss and tell him to wait. He clenching and overall tightness was not helping the situation.

At last she sat still for long enough until the bulb had receded into his penis somewhat, and he pulled himself free with a determined effort. There was an audible "pop" and Antimony actually yelled. The sound echoed off the walls, but neither of them cared much. A rich flow of semen came pouring out of Antimony and onto the floor. Reynardine turned his head around and began to lick himself clean. It was a formality, really. His current wolf body was a construct. A tool, rather like the lockpicks that lay tucked inside it's belly. Like the lockpicks, it too was sterile. Antimony would not become pregnant today, and it was better that she did not.

Eventually he would return to his old body in the forest, as she had told him he could in a moment of generosity. When the time was right, Antimony would live in the forest as his bride, and all her descendants would be his brides as well. For such a mighty being of the etherium as rested inside Antimony, only a god was a worthy companion.


End file.

Gunnerkrigg Court, Romance