Stars and Angels

If Christopher could have woken up right then he would have known that dream-Glinda was alive and watching him tenderly, joy bubbling over in her. She moved dizzily in the bed, running her hands over the midnight blue satin sheets to feel them, touching her bare thighs and starting at how amazing it felt to really feel; to not to be numb for the first. She smiled at Christopher sleeping, looking like some living Greek David, all perfect and blissful and nude.

Glinda felt cold air coming in through the crack in the window she'd opened because of the almost overwhelming heat they'd created the night before. It tickled her naked body and she shivered, but didn't want to close the window. She realized that the Christmas lights on the tree were still on -- it was Christmas morning. And the angel smiled at her from the top.

"Hey, Glinda," she heard Daddy whisper.

"Daddy?"

"I'm here, darling."

"Where? Where are you?" Glinda felt stupid, looking all around.

"Shh, I'm inside you. I just wanted you to know that I love you, Glinda. Has Santa come, little girl?"

Glinda cast a sidelong glance at Christopher. "Sort of."

"I think he left a present for you. I think you'll be okay now."

"What present?"

"Goodbye, Glinda."

"Wait, Daddy..." Glinda thought to herself, but the thought was only a tiny cry and the pain wasn't so strong anymore. She could let Daddy's spirit go. But what had he meant by a present?

Standing up, she felt a sharp pain cutting through her, slicing down from the base of her neck to her lower back. She sucked in her breath, wondering what invisible blade was now carving through her. The sensation of intense pain quickly passed and she felt something new, like she had suddenly been reborn with a better body. She felt a shower of something light, cool and dusty raining down on her. Snow? In the house?

Glinda ran to the mirror and cried out when she saw her reflection: wings. Bright lilac wings, round and small like butterfly wings, fluttering against her skin. She was covered in golden glitter.

"Jesus." She heard a low breath behind her and spun, looking at Christopher. "G-Glinda...?"

"Do you like them, Chris?" she asked him, her voice high and sparkling like a child's. "Do you? You gave them to me."

"How - "

"Don't try to talk, Chris. Just feel them. Touch them." Glinda turned around and let Christopher run his hands over the brand new, small appendages, flickering against his skin. They were like flowers, intricate with veins and swirling purple designs that shuddered with pleasure as he stroked them. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was a dream within a dream.

"My God," he groaned. He got out of bed and stood close behind her, letting them brush his chest softly, like breath, and the stirring wingtips brought his cock to life. "You really are an angel, Glinda."

"No. A fairy." Glinda giggled, then turned around and stood up tall to kiss him on the lips. Then she darted on ballerina feet to the window and shoved it all the way open, leaving a trail of glitter from Christopher's shoulders down his arms, stomach, and thighs. "Watch me, Chris," she purred, her eyes shining. "Watch this."

Before Christopher could stop her, she leapt from the window and he ran to it so fast that he almost knocked over the tree. But he wasn't afraid, and he knew by her cries of delight that it was working. He gasped with pleasure as he watched her flying, fluttering through the snowy air outside, the same air that rushed into his face and stroked his now-hard cock. "Merry Christmas, pretty girl," he murmured to the ecstatic fairy outside, dancing through the sky above New York.

The End.