A Fairy Friday Night

Hi! This is my first try publishing smut, something I enjoy reading but have never felt very gifted at writing. This is a little piece of porny urban fantasy, presented as if there is more to the story that the author will definitely get around to writing someday (this is probably doubtful, sadly, but I'm not sure).

It's an oddly specific fantasy that just captured my imagination one day, and that's the only reason I wrote it. Hope you like it!

(All characters are over the age of 18)

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The clock in the corner of the screen read 7:33.

For a second, he didn't know why that seemed important. Then--

"Shit!"

Dashing to the kitchen, Daniel yanked the round window in.

Flying through on a waft of warm floral air, the fairy lighted balletically upon the faucet. A laugh tinkling from her tiny mouth.

"You seem to be a busy man, these days, Doctor Horndog," she sang up at him. Then put on a pouty face. "You weren't even looking forward to me?" Hands on her hips, she shook her long silver hair dramatically, puffing her cheeks.

"Sorry, Kyla," he smiled, unable to help himself. "I was distracted by a." The casefile flashed through his brain, the blue room lit only by his computer monitor. "Another thing."

"A porno?" she chirped.

"A work thing," his smile souring. "Why would I bother when I've got you? Anyway, that stuff's dangerous." How many cases had he helped with where either the perpetrator or the victim had gotten some kind of curse put on them via a malicious, spell-laced erotic video?

Kyla sat, overcome with giggles, straddling the faucet and hanging on with two dime-sized hands. "You are eminently teasable, do you know?"

"Shut up." He gave an unspirited glare. She knew he was a sucker for her, why waste any effort pretending otherwise?

"But isn't it kind of worrisome?" She cocked her head, crossing her arms, swinging her feet. "So addicted to work that you can't even remember your girly-appointments?"

He narrowed his eyes. "You probably snuck a look through the office window, right? You didn't, did you? Did you see my computer? It's work, it's confidential. I'd have to report that."

"Oh no!" she gasped, mock-fearful. "Would they lock me in a lamppost?"

(Yes, they really used to do that to fairies in America. I mean back in the 1800s.)

"You're funny," he said. "No. But, you know. I'd have to report it. I'd report it, and then I'd have to explain to my supervisor that I was home playing with a faegirl on a Friday night."

"It's fine, they'd just make you wear a shirt that says 'I Jack Off In Style.' And anyway." Like a gymnast, Kyla vaulted off the sink faucet. Enough power in her two palms to push herself airborne. Her gossamer wings started beating, a noise like murmuring harpstrings wherever she hovered and veered. "Anyway, don't get mad."

"Why?"

"I didn't see it, okay? Didn't see it, could've seen it, didn't wanna!" She stuck her tongue out at him. "So nyeh!"

And her musical laughter rained on him.

"Oh." Daniel did relax a little. And felt like a dork for taking things so seriously.

"It's too gross!" raising the back of her hand to her forehead, being dramatic. "Dead people? I swoon!"

"Yeah," he said. Not just dead people but dead pets. Dead things of all sorts. Daniel Shaw was a Practical Necromancer employed by the state, particularly in criminal cases that sought the testimony of the deceased. He didn't find the formerly alive gross. He found them tragic. But he smiled at the fairy on his faucet. "Sorry."

"What's wrong with paying faegirls, anyway?" Swishing up in front of his face, she winked. Twirled for him, her pink negligee flowing round her golden thighs. "We're cuties."

Daniel wanted to argue, but his grin made it impossible. "You're a monster," he laughed.

"Y'know y'like me!" she chimed playfully back.

And flitted from the kitchen.

"Want me to drip you out some honey?" he called after her.

"Do I ever not want your honey, Doctor Cumsack?" Her answer came to him like chimes on a magical wind, rustling his hair.

Daniel chuckled as he used a toothpick to put a few amber beads of honey on a plastic tea-saucer. Added a few large grains of salt on the side, which he knew she loved.

"Anyway," he called out. "It's not like I feel bad about it. It's mostly, like, a professional thing." He grabbed an empty glass and went to find her in the living room.

She was walking up and down his coffee table, impatiently flipping and tugging at the hem of her negligee, flashing her tiny set of pink-striped panties.

Seeing him enter, she hopped aloft for a moment, enough time for him to set the glass upside-down upon the table. This would be her stage. He set the treat-saucer to one side, her greedy eyes following it even while she landed on her makeshift dais, legs crossed at the ankles as her weight transferred from wings to toes.

"I had the song you used last time stuck in my head," he commented, unbuttoning his gray flannel. It fell to either side of him as he sat in front of the coffee table in his leather armchair. Adjusting his seat to be comfortable. Becoming excited as he looked at Kyla's small perfect body.

"And that made you think of me, probably. Right? And you beat your meat?"

"Don't fucking say 'beat your meat.'"

"I will if I wanna!" she sang happily.

"Yeah," he agreed, "you will."

Her gaze drifted from the snacks on the saucer, over to his hairy chest, up to his always-open face, his curious eyes... then down to the front of his sweatpants. She approved of Daniel. He was physically mundane, a little on the skinny side, but his penis had a pretty shape, and he had a lovely gaze. She liked his attentive, permissive gaze, like he was ready to see things we wouldn't understand, and welcomed them.

"What do you mean, though?" she frowned. "A professional thing?"

A wry laugh. "No, just. Sora--she's the detective I've been working with--she already thinks I'm a shut-in, and like. A closet pervert, I think? We have that stigma. Magicists with our focus. Necromancy, I'm saying, I don't know why I'm being... so cagey, but." He blinked, not remembering what he'd been saying. Distracted as he focused on Kyla's delicate face, her small bright purple eyes peering up at him.

"Pff." She waived a dismissive hand. "Perverts are fun. They're creative."

"Um," he said. "Well, regardless, I'm not looking to play into those suspicions."

Kyla had her thumbs under the straps of her negligee, but paused. Turning around, she flourished a hand, a ring on her tiny finger flashing.

The lightswitch by the door clicked, and the two lamps in the room went out. All was blackness, save for the gold outlines of the windows with the blinds pulled shut.

And her cloying voice suddenly sounded like it was right next to his ear. "Would you get mad at me if I told you my little pussy's kinda wet?"

He gave an involuntary shiver.

And then fairylights in ruddy orange and scarlet formed around little Kylalin, who was standing on her glass stage as if she'd never left it. The whisky glass suffused with the glow.

It took Daniel's eyes a moment to adjust. In the dim, Kyla became the brightest thing, this slender fairy in her skimpy costume, her flesh giving off its own gentle radiance.

"Kylalin," he said her name.

She grinned, seeing his face. "Just Kyla's okay, Danny-boy."

Kylalin Lala Lurin was what it said on her website. And probably on her ID. She'd been born in nineteen-twenty-something, though, she was a modern fairy. She could barely listen to her full name without getting distracted.

Kyla had become his regular appointment on Friday nights, sometime in the Spring. It was Autumn, now, and he was still just as enamored with her silly, easy charm as he was when she first darted through his window in a flower bikini.

"Hey, Kyla," he said slow, captivated. "You know?"

"Yes, Doctor Pervy?"

"You look quite beautiful tonight."

"Well," she nodded, accepting the complement with grace. "Then, are you gonna get your dick out?"

Laughing, Daniel raised himself up to slide his sweats to his feet. With her visit in mind, he'd foregone underwear after his shower. "There you go."

As his rigid, swelling penis sprang into view, the fairy's hand went to her stomach, her wings quivering, the air around her blushing with a sound like tinkling bells. Maybe it was part of the theater, but it seemed real to him.

Her lustful eyes glued themselves to his cock as he got comfortable; his hands roved round the base, one hand collecting his balls and massaging them.

"Kyla," he said.

"What is it?" she droned languidly, like he'd hypnotized her.

"Cutie," he smiled. "Can you bend over for me?"

"Mm!" She nodded, eager, snapping out of her trance and spinning a full circle before crossing her legs and bending to bare her butt at him, her negligee riding up, her striped panties clinging to her form. "Do you like ass, Doctor?" she burbled back in his direction, turning first over her left shoulder as far as she could, then lowering her head to look at him upside down, to the side of her knees. "Do you like my ass?" Silvery hair a waterfall with golden light behind it, framing her face.

He could barely see her features, silhouetted as they now were, but he knew she loved watching his expression. He made sure his arousal was plain. "Mmm," he sighed, his dick reacting. Feeling heat in his stomach. It had grown to be a kind of ritualistic relaxation at the end of the workweek. A thing he looked forward to. The one reward he could really afford to give himself.

Hearing her grin before he saw the chance reflection of light on her teeth, in her eyes. "Think he likes it," she said to herself, terrifically smug.

Slow and sensuous, her hands climbed the naked backs of her legs, finally grasping the waistband of her panties, and beginning to ease them down. Revealing first just the highest shadow of a cleft. Then, slowly, more of it, until her cute round butt was on entirely display. Pert and perfect.

"Make Mister Dick as big as me!" she chanted, ripping her panties the rest of the way down. She wiggled her butt at him gleefully, gathering her negligee up at her waist. Displaying her little fairy pussy, gleaming wet in the gold and red light. A leak of liquid shone down the inside of her right thigh.

Daniel was biting his lip, stroking his cock slow, but he laughed at her challenge. "Hey!" At full mast, he was still a few inches short of her nine. "You're fucking mean."

She'd insisted they measure it last week. She'd stood nude, grasping a ruler in both hands that was taller than she was, a helpful smile on her face that was somehow innocent and deeply lewd at the same time. She'd looked like the sexy female host on some incredibly outlandish gameshow.

Actually. Thinking about it. It was pretty hot. His strokes picked up a bit of speed.

"I think you just need to believe in yourself, Doctor Shaw." The kind of saccharine voice you hear on a kid's program. "I sure believe in you, I sure do."

He shook his head, trying to scowl at her, trying to tease her back. It never worked. "Still way too big for your little puss," is what he growled.

"Oh, no," she made her voice doleful even as her hands splayed her ass-cheeks wide, showing off her pair of pretty pink holes. "You mean this one? Are you gonna force your huge human dick up my tiny little pussy...?"

"Shut up," he laughed, holding his erection firmly, willing himself to stop jerking it. The show hadn't even really started yet.

Sadly, willpower wasn't one of his strong suits.

One hand clenched his shaft, motions slight but strong; his other pressed under his balls, at the buried root of his cock, and he softly groaned.

"Fucking. Fuck. I fucking love your body, Kyla," he said, swirling his balls, eyes smoldering on the fairy's small sunny shape.

"D'you wanna come all over it?"

"Uh-huh."

"Grr-oss!" she prissed, straightening and turning about, tossing her hair with a flick of her elegant neck. The hem of her negligee dropped back around her thighs, covering her up for the moment.

She fluttered her eyes at him and smirked, seeing the pure simmering want in his unblinking stare.

Finally, a snap of her fingers, and the breathy notes of a flute spiraled into hearing from somewhere.

Stilling her body in a simple pose--slim arms pointed slightly outwards, legs relaxed--she gave the slightest irregular flap of her wings, and the music rose like mist around the pair of them, filling the apartment without being loud. The sound of strings, a lazy saxophone, more wood flutes, and a plucked harp.

She danced at the speed of dripping honey, clinging to the notes, pressing her thigh to an imaginary pole, grasping and rubbing her own body with love, she moved. Sensuously. On the small stage where she stood.

The fairy writhed to her song.

She was like a string of syrup stretched between two fingers, gyrating. Twirling on the sparkling surface of the upturned whisky glass, it seemed like she might collapse into a puddle, but she somehow stayed upright. She peeled at her negligee, revealing herself to him--the lines of her pelvic bone, her thighs, her hips, the arcs of her bottom, the smooth petals of her pussy--before concealing herself again and making him whine.

"God," Daniel sighed as he slipped a fist up to the head of his cock and back down, dragging precum along the length of his shaft. "Fuck, Kyla."

Kyla's face was smoky and intense, her form fluid and seductive. And at last the straps of her negligee slid down her arms and the garment slithered off her, evaporating into steam as it dropped away.

Naked now, her slender body on offer, she traced her fingers around her dark pink nipples, eclipsed her small breasts in her tiny palms, and danced to the curling music, guttural notes now playing into the melody, and her gyrations almost forcing a rhythm to Daniel's fervent, worshipful stroking. She rubbed at her breasts, she sank her fingers into her stomach and down, following the contours of her soft, perfect musculature.

Her face pinkened with arousal or exertion, her mouth open, her breathing and moaning so natural and lascivious and intoxicating.

Daniel couldn't help but speed his strokes as she dropped to a squat and ran her fingers over her legs, into the hollows of her groin on either side of her dark dripping little cunt. And finally sliding her knuckles among her labia, her hand glistening. She shuddered. Pervasive without being strong, just like the music, the smell of her fairyparts filled the apartment room.

And the song went on but she was no longer dancing. She fell back on her butt like a girl distracted by dandelions. She opened her legs to him. Knees bent, her feet dangling off the sides of the glass. A seep of her nectar spilling and pooling beneath her, as she began to masturbate.

"Oo. Mmm." She hummed with pleasure.

Arousal got the better of him, then, and Daniel did something he'd never done. He'd thought to do it and been too shy. But, this time, fuck it: she knew she had him completely enchanted.

Daniel drew a magical lens in the air with his fingernail, a circle about two feet in diameter. And inside it, the world looked bigger--the only important piece of the world, to him, which was exactly that narrow section on the surface of his coffee table where she sat plopped and pleasuring herself, the center of his lust-drunk universe. And now she was magnified to his voracious stare.

In the first moment, as his finger sparked against the air, she looked startled. But now she smiled with hooded eyes,

"You really want to see?" she breathed. Tapping her entrance with two gleaming fingers, juice slapping and sticking to her. "You want to watch a little fairy plumb her pussy for sweets?"

"Ungh," he moaned his wordless affirmative. Through his magical lens, he saw her in abundant detail. Her dark pussy lips and her plucking, pressing fingers massaging them. Her delicate bone-structure, her hips and ribs. Her belly-button. The gentle contours of her small breasts, the small glittering freckle on her collarbone. The way her butt was mashed against the glass beneath her. The very faintly purple tinge to the clear juice trickling from her cunt.

For a moment, too, his appreciation was captured by the gentle beat of her beautiful wings. So serene behind her squirmy, masturbating little body. Her simple, lovely wings moved like silk in a slight breeze. Like the wings of a landed butterfly, every two seconds or so, they beat in time to the heartbeat of creation. It caused the ends of her hair to sway, and blew her erotic fragrance upon him.

"Is it fine?" he belatedly asked. "Me looking at you like this. Magnified? "He ought to have done it before. Why hadn't he ever done it before? What a dull, shy mage he was. "I just love. Mm. Looking at you."

She purred, "Oh, you can look at me all you want, Doctor Pervy." And richly laughed. "You poor lonely man. So full of cum and nobody to put it in. Look at me. A little moonfairy. I love to be looked at, ah--ai!" Her words became a gasp as she sank two fingers in her pussy. Began sliding them in an out, stirring up a froth of her own cream as she rolled and teased her clit. "Mm! Are you gonna come for me, Doctor? You look like. You're. Gonna come. Any. Second. " Her hands moved in and upon herself like a master musician playing her instrument. So good at the craft that even watching her play was a musical experience. Two expert hands touching all the right notes as she sang out her pleasure in lush voice.

His fist jerked and froze, jolted and stopped, up and down his thickened, reddened, veiny cock. Long as he could, he wanted to keep... Fuck. But, fuck.

Fuck, but he was coming, then.

"Fuck!" he ground his teeth between sighs. "Ungh, Kyla!" Her name came out of him like a sob. The tension building inexorably, though he'd tried to settle it down, tried to save himself, to bring himself back.

Now he recognized he was too far gone. And he stroked hard, squeezed hard, the head of his dick swelling and all the pleasure showing on his face as his stomach tightened until, "God, Kyla, fuck!" he exploded, heat and ecstasy flooding the nerves in his cock, in his belly, up his chest to his throat, as he ejected forceful breaths, and his orgasm rumbled through him.

He leaned forward, trying to give her the reward he knew she wanted. His cum spurted high in a blur, past his face, painting the side of the cup on which his fairy girl perched. Some of it dirtying the coffee table, as it had many times before. The next blast was fuller, and landed squarely upon her, thick across her thighs and lower-body like a blanket. The third shot fell short of the coffee table, the fourth dribbled over his tight knuckles, as the molten rocks of his core grumbled and shook, and settled into place.

A warm wash of satisfaction filled him.

The fairy squealed and laughed as she was doused in this man's rich-smelling cum. She bathed in it, covering her bare legs and arms, her belly, her chest. She shoved her fingers inside herself pushing it up her cunt, and shouting with pure joy as it contacted her insides; it reacted with her body chemistry, giving her the sensation of flowers blooming all throughout her core, or then like someone was scrubbing her all over in warm milk and sugar. She felt her own orgasm begin to clatter around inside, and she trapped it for a delighted, anticipatory moment, then with a long, loud moan, set it loose to ravage her senses.

Pink whorls of light in her closed eyes as the contractions racked her, as her emotions all vibrated together ecstatically, and the pulsing of her innards became a sea, a storm. A full and surging heat radiated up her body. And for a long starry moment, she was floating, engrossed in her own pleasure.