Cloudy with a Chance of Pixies Ch. 02-03

He had to reassure her of his potency! But how? His dick was still steel-hard, and.... frantically he began to fuck her hand. Turning, he thrust his rod against the perfect skin between her thumb and index finger in a magical parody of a hand-job.

"Yes.... Matt breathed luridly. "If I'm so horny, I'll try to fuck your fingers, I couldn't be spent for the night, could I? Noooooo.... not done yet!" Not that Pacifica's hand was unattractive. Perfectly formed, no hint of calluses, no veins - and Matt began to lose himself in his frantic efforts to pump himself between her fingers, to assure her of his potency.

"But Matthew..." Came her sing-song voice from high above. "Wouldn't you rather fuck my pussy?"

His scream in the affirmative might have been drowned out by the savage hoarseness of a simultaneous, animal grunt of passion that escaped his throat.

But first, she stuck the tip of his cock down....down... right on the tip of her clit! The fire-hydrant-like nub was moist, as if to cool the fiery heat of desire blazing in her crotch. And Matt moaned in delight with the knowledge that his most sensitive area was electrifying her female center.

"I want it all, Matthew. Sometimes the Flocking Instinct lingers for days Matthew.... burning in the femalia of a pixie - as it does with me! And with a final, wet slurp and push from Pacifica's fingers...

Matt took the plunge.....

**********

It was hard to say why Marsha did it. She was still attractive. She knew that. She didn't need to prove it to anyone, let alone herself. She was standing in front of Nerd Central, the Computer Science building. And there he was again; a particularly irksome nerd that had had a hopeless crush on her since Freshman year.

He had fallen over himself again, getting all flustered by her apparent beauty.

"M...M..Marsha- a..." He stammered. "L-lovely evening." It was just a little past late afternoon.

"Yeah, whatever Lee." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm s-sorry it's just.... when I see someone as beautiful as you I.... I just..... *GULP* Oh gawd... there he goes again. Lee Klutzski and his inhaler. The nerd started wheezing furiously, turning sideways to pump the device in his mouth. So weak... so pathetic. But Marsha started thinking.

"Lee...."

"Wh-*cough* Y-yes Marsha?" he asked reverently between squeezes of the inhaler.

"You think I'm pretty hot stuff, don't you?"

"Ye -ye- y- y- eh- es.. I ... I m-mean, Oh..oh.. yea..ye..eh.."

"I'll take that as a 'Yes.'" Marsha grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him back to his own apartment. There were several reasons why. A test, in part. Other reasons she was afraid to dwell on.

She knew full well where Lee's apartment was, on a street adjacent to campus, he was always pointing it out to her, he tried to organize parties on campus to help his non-existent popularity, but it always turned into a nerds-only sausage fest. Normally, Marsha wouldn't be caught dead in Lee's place.

Normally.

But she had been doing a lot of thinking, and she had some ideas.... and no one was watching...

**********

Marsha pressed Lee against the white plaster wall even as he fumbled in his pocket to extract his apartment keys. She tried not to think about all the reasons she didn't like him, and just tried to picture him as a better lover than he could ever hope to be.

And he responded!

But it was also nice to have that sense of power! The ability to get a guy so flustered by her appearance did send a wicked thrill down her spine, as she ran her hands down his.

And as far as she knew, Lee didn't seem to ever have any Fae lovers. Odd, if a man was able to muster up a hard penis, just being around a Fae long enough would cause them to lose control of their maniacal breeding instincts. Marsha told herself that Lee simply didn't want one of them, rather than dwell on the possibility that he might be too unpopular even for those sluts.

No, she had good reasons for what she was doing. Good reason for letting this asthmatic nerd put his hands down her shirt, onto her glorious D-cups. Reasons why she allowed herself to be flung onto his crappy bed with springs jabbing her skin. But it wasn't all bad.

Marsha had to know! So she allowed Lee Klutzski, nerdiest wheezer in the computer science department to pump his hard, eager dick into her eventually-moist pussy. But it was a matter of perspective; there were.... some good things about what she was doing. She could feel in Lee's body language, the way he thrust so vigorously, the way he mouthed, "oh gawd yes", or... 'different this time'... that he was eager to please her, inexperienced though he might be. A lot of beefy, football studs were certainly handsome, but they had an entitled attitude, and there was an air about them of using women purely for their own pleasure - the fine line where cocky confidence became asshole-hood of the first order.

None of that with Lee, eagerly - vigorously he worked his body towards the goal of her pleasure. No doubt he was thinking that this was his one and only chance with his long-time masturbation goddess. And he was focusing on her, trying to be attentive.

Klutzski must have read about how sensitive a woman's clit was, because he kept trying to stimulate hers with fingers and penis alike. Yes, he groped her boobs, but also kissed frantically her neck, shoulders, once pausing to work his way down her leg in kisses; as if trying to find long-lost erogenous zones.

It was working. It was almost making up for his terminal nerdiness.

"Do it...."

"Huh?" he wasn't yet sure.

"Do me!" she wrapped her legs around him, accepting him completely. Lee murmured, mumbled with disbelieving glee. She had to know something. She had to find out what would happen. And soon, Lee gave that special little grunt, he tensed, his cock throbbed from within Marsha's moist sheath. He was at the tipping point - soon his seed would explode from his rarely-used dick, and Marsha would have the answer.

**********

Ronald Egremont stumbled back into the apartment he shared with his roommate. A hard night of studying in the Math lab should pay off big time! He should ace his Calculus III test! He kind of wondered how his roommate was doing; they had a lot in common. Both brilliant, both shy around the ladies, neither of them popular enough to get any real opportunities to change their situation. Rob wasn't as gangly as some nerds, fairly tall and heavy-set. But he had an unathletic clumsiness combined with a hookish nose and recessed chin that seemed to create a perfect storm of anti-sex appeal with most women. But Ron wasn't worried; his time would come later - after college.

He set down his heavy backpack laden with books on calculus, computer science, and differential statistics. Strange, someone was in their small bathroom, using the shower. Hmmm; his roommate preferred to shower in the mornings most days. It was late, though. Might be nothing. Well, still time for Ron to log onto the Star Trek the Next Generation fan blogs and debate Captain Picard's decision to hand over the prototype Federation Cloaking device and interdimensional phasing cloak in that one episode.

But that's when the door opened, and shower steam wafted feather-like into their sleeping area.

"Look man, you're a good guy and all, but we should still have some boundaries." Ron said without looking as he closed page 791 on his advanced theoretical spacial-algorithms text and fired up his laptop to head to the online forums he loved.

"Man..... that's something I've never been called before." purred a distinctly un-masculine voice. And someone who was definitely not his roommate stepped from the bathroom.

Naked.

Sparkling drops paraded down the callimastian curves of a toned goddess of tanned bronze and wet desire. The lucky water drops got to enjoy a journey through a cheerleader wonderland of fitness, fertility, and ripe nudity as ample D-cups blended into a taut belly and enticing, naked hips that seemed to scream out for impregnation. She cocked an eyebrow suggestively.

"wh- you - I - didn't you..." Ron stammered, face reddening.

"Yeah, I guess your advanced theoretical algorithms don't have anything to say about this." Marsha concluded. Ron started forward, hand lifting unconsciously towards a tempting, tanned D-cup tit, but stopping hesitantly before what seemed too good to be true.

"See, I have a question for that big brain of yours...." she purred.

"Guh-huh...." The sweat from Ron's suddenly heated forehead seemed to match a trail of moisture that wound sinuously between Marsha's moist, inviting tits.

"See, your roommate has been eagerly masturbating over me ever since Freshman year, all he had the guts to do, really. I even caught him once... but how isn't important." Marsha rolled her eyes, seeming not the least bit angry over what she described.

"Uhhhhhyyhhhh...."

"I saw both of you, I saw you once watching our cheerleader practice." she announced. Ron gulped. Was this some kind of cock-teasing revenge?

"So...what I wanna know is...." Ron's fingers dug into his palms as Marsha purred.

"Do you masturbate over me too?"

"I... will now." He swallowed. Marsha made a throaty purr.

"Prove it."

**********

She was naked on one of the nerds bunks, in the end. Her experiment complete. In her left hand was Lee Klutzski, shrunk down to six-inches in height, with a penis longer and thicker than the rest of his body now. In her right hand was his roommate Ronald Egremont, a mostly-penis nine-inch long length of ensorceled manhood. Both moaned and thrashed; eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. It was true then, somehow.... someway.... she had been cursed.

A first she was afraid that it was Biff's fault. But no, whatever was going on was carried by her. It seemed that any man she had sex with was changed into this... this.... dildoman or whatever. Shrunk down to pixie size, except for his now imbalanced penis, which seemed to gain a few inches in the process. She couldn't be sure when or how this spell had been cast on her, but she tried to muster up some righteous indignation.

"Damn that pixie... all pixies...probably... their fault." But it was a fruitless effort; there was a guilty thrill and rush of pleasure from doing what she had done. The men seemed to enjoy it as well, both nerds paralyzed by paroxysms of passion that continued even after the orgasm. Neither seemed to notice or care that they were shrinking as they pumped her wet pussy.

"Is this... what my mom is feeling now.... to hate the magic... to know how wrong it is... but to crave it! Crave it anyway!" Marsha had many intellectual reasons for disliking the Fae, disliking what happened to her hyperslut mom, but she didn't think she could give up on this new thrill just yet!

**********

The Madison Mages where the favored to win the regionals, and the campus stadium was packed with fans, alumni, scouts from the Pros, and the occasional confused, slutty pixie. The problem of course, with any game of any sporting event at Madison University was the high Fae content and what that inevitably meant would occur before, after, and sometimes during the game. The coaches on both teams had been in Basketball for their entire professional lives, but all they knew had been upended with the Celestial Conjunction. Just like everybody else.

Not that the grizzled, salt-and-pepper mustachioed couches on either team hadn't taken advantage of the benefits. The Coach for the Madison Mages felt a shiver go down his spine as he saw the Cheerleaders for his team out of the corner of his eye, and a tingle in his groin.

Their twirls and stances where enhanced by spells that limited the effect of gravity, allowing leaps and balance routines of astounding dexterity with minimal practice. The crowd ate it up, of course. Coach Chester, presently in charge of Madison U. Basketball had been against Fae Cheerleaders in the beginning; the old Coach, the one there at the beginning of the Conjunction had been willing and eager to allow the magical creatures.

The early days of Fae integration for the team, had of course, been disastrous. The new Cheerleaders couldn't keep their hands off the players or their legs closed. Half of their routines where really group-spells that multiplied the male libido to incendiary levels. It was a shell-game, trying to shuffle the heavily pregnant cheerleaders off the team and train new ones in time for whatever game lay ahead, luckily their magic gave them supernatural prowess to cut down on training time.

But adding a further complication to training a good team was the magical mishaps and alterations that occurred with the players. The most popular athletes just had to learn to run and shoot hoops with foot-long, chronically-erect penises. It was just too difficult and complicated figuring out how to reverse the spells in time for practice; and the horny young men sure weren't going to swear off the nubile nymphos throwing themselves at them!

When Coach Chester took over, he was determined to iron out some ground rules and restore discipline. No Fae Cheerleaders, he had insisted. He clenched his fist in recollection as the crowd whistled and yelled at the ongoing flow of the game. But that hadn't lasted long; The Provost had taken him aside and explained that with such a high percentage of Fae students at the University, it was just unreasonable not to represent them on the Cheerleading squad.

And the Dean agreed.

So it became in the end about damage-control. He inserted as many human girls as he could, as a stabilizing influence. But then, honestly, he couldn't pretend to be a chaste saint himself. Sure, the muscled 6-foot nine studs on the team got most of the action, but Coach Chester was a man, with a cock, so it was inevitable that he would draw some Fae attention.

A cool hand squeezed his ass surreptitiously, and a growl sounded in his ear just loud enough for no one else to hear. It was Kiki, his personal favorite among those Fae he'd been pressured to accept. Her flowing hair was jet-black with diamond-like sparkles, her skin was pearl-colored, and seemed to have a sheen like a frozen lake. Kiki was some kind of frost-spirit or winter-goddess or some such, he forgot the exact species-name, something from Japanese mythology - made real.

The bouncing ball seemed to fade from Coach Chester's awareness as his mind drifted to the pleasures the Fae had seduced him into. Kiki was unusually practical - for a Fae. Wherever she was, she would find the most powerful man available; and fuck only him.

What had ultimately seduced Coach was that Kiki could be discrete; she never stripped naked in public, and there were no complaints that she had accidentally turned any human girls into hypersluts. All her pent-up Fae lust was reserved for him. It was a simple bargain; he would do everything in his power to make her college experience as pleasant as possible.

And Kiki would lavish Coach Chester with pleasures he had never imagined possible.

And his wife need never know. Kiki claimed to have many such spells to avoid detection. He didn't ask about that. It was for the best; Chester's wife just wasn't a fan of the Fae.

Really, it was Kiki's impassioned thrustings upon his explosively aroused dick in the athletic's complex office that really mellowed him towards the Fae. Amazing that a winter-spirit could have such warmth...

So Chester had to ease off on his anti-Fae stance, but wondered how many suspected the supernatural orgasms that Kiki coaxed out of him more often than his middle-aged physique should have allowed?

Coach could no longer shut out the Fae. So he had to adapt, it was just about damage control.

So all Chester could do was wait for the next magical disaster, and hope it could be contained as swiftly as possible.

"TWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET"

The ref's whistle. One of the visitors had apparently fouled one of Chester's own, and been awarded a penalty shot. He had missed everything, thinking as he was of Kiki's alluring skin, her taut ass, and sultry demeanor. Perfection she was, better-than-real perfection. Her only real flaw was her incomprehension of what a bra was, or how to use it, but her rock-hard nipples tenting her cheerleader top gave him the shivers; and not from the cold.

The crowd whispered as the tension became palpable. Number 31's fingers twitched upon the pebbly surface of the ball as every muscle tensed with expectation.

He was ready...

taking the shot...

He was going to go for it...

He was...

He was shrinking?

No, had to be some trick of the lighting.

And yet, Number 31 kept reducing in height. His jersey became baggy, and his pants sagged worse than the most irresponsible rapper.

Ah hell, was this the beginning?

Maybe not. Tense seconds passed and Coach Chester was no longer able to see any change in the boy's height but.... but the Jersey was clearly too big for him, his shorts dropped off entirely! But ... but he didn't seem any shorter unless... wait a second...

Why did Coach's shirt suddenly seem so baggy? And... and how did the goal get so high? Yeah, the hoop seemed to have almost doubled in height! What, was someone on the opposing team casting an illegal spell on the hoop to make the shot more difficult? Wait... no....why would a spell to make the hoop higher suddenly make Coach's shoes too big? Unless....

Unless they were all shrinking.

The Ref's whistle blew again, the official had given one of the new signals for a magical foul.

Correction, they weren't all shrinking....

Just the men. Not all, though. Both teams, one of the refs and.... most of the audience... clothes started falling off the men amidst the surprised yelpings and cries of the women. The basketball slipped from tiny fingers and rolled unheeded; because there was another problem.

One part of every man's anatomy had not shrunk.

They might never know the true cause; magic could move and effect people visibly or invisibly, and the EMMT's weren't equipped to handle a crisis of this magnitude!

Was anyone?

Soon, it was difficult for Coach to see the floor, or much past the nearest chair, as he partially shrunk to a fraction of his normal size... partially shrunk.

Somehow, someway, this had to be about the Fae; why else would his penis grow larger while everything, everyone else shrank? All the men, at least.

Some of the unshrunken men panicked and ran, the women started to run, then stopped when they realized that it wasn't effecting them. Then, some women reversed course, Coach Chester could hear cries of 'protect my man' or, 'is his dick THAT big?'

It was a chaos that no one was prepared to contain. Sure, the EMMT's could handle women's breasts tripling in size and spraying intoxicating milk, or rampant libido intensification. Even a lot of spontaneous penis enlargement could be handled. But this was too much, too fast, everywhere. There seemed to be no actual epicenter, no one person to confine and treat with anti-magic drugs, it just erupted, everywhere at once.

No one had a chance.

Some women screamed as the elongated penises of the dildo-men erected stiffly in the warm stadium air. But as frantic minutes passed they realized there was no real threat to them and... and it was sort of interesting.

So hard.... so erect... so tempting.

Maybe Coach was wrong; maybe the women were being effected by whatever it was that had come upon them, as they turned to the partially-shrunken men with renewed interest.

Sexual interest.

For most of the middle-aged MILF's who were mothers of various students involved, yes, they wanted to protect their men.... then they decided they needed to protect other men too... from being trampled. Soft, feminine hands grabbed hyper-erect male shafts, teasing toying with the thrashing, helpless male victims.