Fairy Tail Ch. 01byMareCrisium©
Stepping through the front door and locking it behind me, I glanced down the corridor to see whether I had arrived too soon. The door at the far end stood open a few inches, spilling a warm, widening band of light into the carpeted hallway. It was just dusk, and the glow from behind the door mingled with the setting sunlight coming in through the high, rectangular windows on either side of the hall.
Tossing my keys on the table by the door, I got out of my coat and laid it over the high back of the wooden chair in the foyer. As I made my way down the hall towards the welcoming light, eyes fixed ahead, I distractedly slid my briefcase through the staircase railing onto the steps leading upstairs.
Reaching the door, I pushed it aside and stood still a moment, listening.
Finding the room empty, I began to curse my poor timing but stopped short when my eyes fell on a yellow slip of paper resting nearby on an arm of the long sofa that wrapped around two sides of the spacious room. I unfolded it and read the simple written instructions, reading it again before rounding the corner into the adjoining study. Unbuttoning my shirt and kicking my shoes off, I stretched out to wait on the padded leather chaise lounge facing the door.
She didn't keep me waiting long, but by the time Penny appeared in the doorframe with her mouth curled up into the winsome smile I knew so well, my mind had begun to wander and so had my hands. The mischievous expression on her lovely face was replaced at once with one of feigned indignation when she saw that I had already begun to celebrate our anniversary without her.
"L-look at you—", I stammered.
Before I could get the words out I broke up laughing as the little vision before me stumbled and nearly fell rushing over to slap my hand away from my half-erection.
"You were supposed to wait!" she complained.
Her eyes darted back and forth from my own down to the real object of her interest, that perpetual smile dancing on her lips and spoiling the seriousness of her rebuke.
"How can I just lie here, soft, when I know what I'm waiting for?" I asked, sitting up and reaching to wrap my arms around her slender waist. She twisted away and stood up straight just out of reach, beaming at me again.
"Think about it, Penny. When my illicit, 21-year-old girlfriend promises to make our first anniversary 'special', reaching under the table at a public restaurant and nibbling on my ear, whispering dirty suggestions, I'm going to have a hard time thinking of much else for the duration."
"Well you didn't have to take it out," she pouted, her eyes flashing down to what I held in my lap. "Besides, you didn't really know what you were waiting for, now did you?"
"I know now, though, don't I…Fairy Princess, I take it?" Blushing, she closed her eyes and nodded, lifting a thin, ribbony wand with one hand and waving the other over her body ceremoniously, as if to reveal the slutty attire she selected for the occasion.
Turning one bare knee in, she presented the pink heels she had chosen. Open-toed and fastened with a little strap around the ankle, they showed off the lovely contours of her feet as well as the tiny, freshly painted nails lined up neatly in front. She turned and offered her full profile now, glancing at me sideways to observe my reaction.
Slowly, my eyes followed the gentle curvature of her lean, athletic legs until coming to rest on her shapely ass. My gaze lingered dizzily on that perfect, heart-shaped trove before wandering up her graceful back—from which a pair of bright pink butterfly wings hung from between her shoulder blades like something from a twisted fantasy.
They were about sixteen inches from top to bottom, made from a thin transparent fabric, and hung from thin elastic bands which wrapped tight under her arms and attached in back. They were trimmed in outline with the same pink marabou fur covering two little antennae projecting stiffly from the pink plastic headband she wore.
Her girlish wand, wings and antennae nearly completed the outfit. I was pleased to find that her pert, smallish breasts were bare, their fat, puffy nipples visible beneath the sheer ripples of a transparent babydoll top I had never seen her wear before—also pink of course and trimmed in lace. Faintly adorned with floral designs, the seductive garment hung open a little from top to bottom, loosely fastened with a thick pink ribbon encircling Penny's delicate upper midriff and tied off to the side.
The high-cropped cut of the négligée was extremely provocative. Penny's broad, shapely pelvic area, a feature she never tired of flaunting, was only half-concealed by the shameless hemline. She slowly rotated, not bothering to conceal her satisfaction with the effect it was having on her audience. Taunting me with a sultry, mocking smile, she paused to show me how the frilly hem hung less than an inch below the summit of that unclaimed treasure of an ass.
Her panties left so little to the imagination that they were hardly to be described as a garment at all. She wore a thong, T-shaped in back, consisting of two threadlike straps joined by a tiny metal ring at the small of her back and attached to either end of the tiny swatch of satin which nestled vanishingly between her legs in front.
No detail escaped my notice as she slowly turned for me. The thong rode low around her hips. The connecting strap in back dove deep between her buns and ran blessedly out of sight. The little pink triangle which hung in front from the strap encircling her waist was scarcely any larger than a band-aid. It dipped low, barely concealing her visibly puffy labia, a tiny pink island in the pale surrounding outline left from the larger, though hardly modest, bikini she had sunbathed in earlier that day.
This was lingerie meant to leave much less to the imagination than it revealed. A narrow, closely trimmed strip of Penny's strawberry blonde pubic hair shamelessly peeked out about an inch above the triangular patch. It was an obscene reminder that her costume was, like others of its kind, intended not to be worn so much as to be discarded, violently and in a hurry. But my girl was taking her time for now.
A woman with Penny's gifts needed little help from a costume so lewdly designed. Admiring her selection, watching it cling to her gorgeous young body, it seemed almost dangerously enticing. It's simply an invitation, I fancied; and an indecent one from such a fresh-faced, auburn angel as this one. Standing upright with her thighs together, she gave the scandalous, and nearly accurate, appearance of being nude from her navel to her ankles. Her smile contained something I couldn't quite discern, a half-kept secret she wasn't sure she wanted to share just yet.
Her sweet voice broke the spell into which I'd fallen—the first of many she was to cast that evening.
"Yes, baby, now you know what I'm wearing for our anniversary," she said warmly, condescending a little. "But for all you knew until a moment ago, I was going to invite all your stuffy colleagues over for tea and cake."
"Well, let's be fair," I added with a shrug, "it's not as though I wouldn't be happy to have you…share your tea and cake with my stuffy colleagues. Especially our esteemed Chair."
A rosy flush came to her sweet face. Over the year and a half I had known her, I'd often observed the disarming, in some ways misleading, effects this girl's winsome disposition can have on those content to settle for first impressions. "She's such a charming young woman," I had often heard from our colleagues and acquaintances. "Bright, outgoing. And so advanced for a junior graduate student."
If they only knew. The flush on her cheeks lingered for a moment only before ebbing away.
Hassan Bath, the presiding Chair of the psych department where Penny and I both spent our days, was a distinguished scholar and a judicious administrator. And in my profession, where there is blessedly little of the competitive hysteria and petty conflict so common elsewhere, he was the closest thing to a "boss" either of us had.
More to the point, over the past few months he had become something of a mentor to Penny herself. But despite his apparently unwavering kindness and professionalism, and though a married man of fifty-two, he was no more unaware of Penny as a young woman, nor was he less vulnerable to her enticements, than any other man. So he had revealed to me privately on more than one occasion, hardly being aware of my own special tutoring relationship with the girl.
"There you go again, Doctor," she replied with an exaggerated air of formality, referring sarcastically to the psychiatric research I conduct professionally. It's something she had come to be rather fond of doing. "We've discussed this fantasy of yours before," she continued, her pedantic tone contending for my bemused attention with the plastic tiara, trimmed in pink and projecting two plush butterfly antennae from bouncy springs, which surmounted her lovely head of auburn hair.
"I'm beginning to question the effectiveness of our counseling sessions for helping you to manage this fixation," she went on.
"Have we exhausted the usefulness of talk therapy?" I asked.
"Perhaps it's time to commence the oral medication phase of your treatment plan," she concluded with that irrepressible smirk.
"You should consider applying for my 'stuffy boss''s position," I reflected. "It's not often one of my students is able to take over my professional responsibilities so ably, particularly one only just admitted to our graduate program."
"I think it's cute that you're so hung up on being twice my age," Penny replied without missing a beat, "and how much you like thinking of yourself as having stolen me from the cradle."
"Don't laugh, Doctor. Moving me into your home, giving me a floor all to myself but…holding me hostage in your bed at night." We both cracked a smile. "I think you see what I mean. It enables you to maintain the precarious balance between fathering me, training me professionally, and fucking me silly."
"You're right about the silly part," I said, giving her wings a gentle tug.
Her eyes flashed a smile at mine while she leaned closer now to work at the remaining buttons on my shirt. She helped me out of it, running the tips of her fingers through the hair on my chest, and continued, "Your professional compulsion to take me under your wing, your insatiable appetite for what else I have to offer…these aren't easy motives to reconcile, are they?"
I studied her eyes closely.
"And that little remark about Professor Bath has me wondering," she continued slowly, "whether overseeing my curricular studies is really all you're interested in sharing with him."
With that, my fingers went back to work on my shaft. I was aching for release.
"Knowing that I'm your best student must be convenient when I'm also the youngest legal piece of ass walking past your office every day. It means you get to practically wear me on your arm wherever and as often as you like. Few men your age have your luck, do you know that?"
"You wish, Fairy Princess."
"Not tonight, smart ass. Tonight you're the one who's wishing."
"I am?" I asked. "Well hurry up and tell me, what am I wishing for?"
"Anything your little heart desires," came her answer. Like music to my ears, I thought.
"Or, more specifically, any three things your little heart desires."
Standing back from the side of the chaise lounge, where she had knelt and all but entirely disrobed me, Penny held the end of her wand in the open palm of her hand and spoke thus, in solemn tones:
"Tonight I am yours to command. Only name three objects of your desire, and by my power, you shall have them!"
She had clearly rehearsed this little ritual, and my heart began to race as the meaning of her words sunk in.
"Only three?" I complained. "Don't tell me there are rules, too."
I found myself staring at the point of a wand. The glittery star wagged at me in accusation. Hand on hip, my Fairy Princess narrowed her eyes and said, "Of course there are rules! There are limits to my powers, you know…"
"We'll have to see how far we can stretch them, then," I said, reaching for her ass only to grasp at air again. She wriggled away and slowly returned, swaying her hips in a little dance, shifting weight from one foot to the other and waving her wand back and forth over my head.
"Besides, pervert," she smirked, "I'm sure three doses of my fairy magic will be more than enough for you to handle in one night."
"We'll see who can handle what," I offered, still openly fondling myself. "Now stop slinking around and get your ass over here, you little minx."
"Is that a wish?" she breathed, finally allowing me to encircle her waist and draw her close.
We kissed, my tongue seeking hers. She slipped hers around evasively, tickling me, before dipping into my throat with a desperation I hadn't quite expected.
Laying her wand aside, she slid down the long chair and removed the last of my clothes, tugging my slacks and briefs down past my knees and tossing them on the floor. My socks followed and she perched there on the footstool for a moment, rubbing my feet where she held them in her lap and studying me closely.
"Here are the rules. I had better explain them before we get too carried away. And so that we don't have you wasting your wishes on kisses."
I moaned approvingly as she worked away. "Some kisses may be worth it," I said, earning a smirk.
"Rule number one: you can't wish for something that can't be provided…or performed…here in this house. Stop frowning! I'm not ready just yet to appear in public as your slave fairy princess."
"Rule number two: you have to make your three wishes before sunrise tomorrow. You have me all night, but I lose my ability to grant your heart's desire when our anniversary is over…"
"You mean your cute little outfit doesn't turn back into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight?" I inquired.
She hushed me. "These are my rules! And we're hardly in Disneyland, love."
"You're the fairy princess," I consented.
"Finally," she continued, cutely wrinkling up her nose in disdain, "rule number three: there's no wishing for more wishes." The very idea seemed an affront to her sense of fairy propriety.
Seeing my overwrought disappointment, Penny added, "You'll just have to wait another year, Professor. Three wishes are plenty for your dirty mind to play around with, I think."
She paused, her amusement showing in the corners of her small but expressive mouth. "And it's not as though you'll have to force me to fuck you when you're not making me grant your wishes."
"Who said anything about fucking?" I asked flatly.
She rolled her eyes. "I know you better than that, you dirty old man. Just remember. Three are all you get. So think before you wish. I just might enjoy this a little myself, you know."
"Well that sort of ruins it for me, doesn't it?"
An icy glare, way over the top, was all I got for an answer.
"Can't I wish for you to be my unwilling victim from a fairy paradise where sex is forbidden?" It seemed like an innocent question to me.
"That, Mr. Rape Fantasy, is another example of a wish I can't grant. I'm afraid you'll have to settle for a horny fairy slave."
Spitting in my palm and closing my fist around the puffy mushroom cap at the end of my shaft, I began to speak up in my defense, "You—"
"Oh! And you can't wish to change the rules! That makes four rules, I guess. Five, if you include the one about me being a horny girl."
I paused for effect. "Anything else?"
She flashed me another smile, bent down to plant her lips on the instep of my right foot, then my left. "Your wish is my command," she said sweetly.
With that she drew up and leaned low over me. She writhed seductively, sliding her tongue up my stomach as she rose, marking her slow progress with little kisses. I ran my fingers through her hair. "I know you like this," she said softly, giggling.
Finally she rested her face just below mine, gazing up and hovering low over my chest in a submissive posture.
Tangling her fingers in the curls of hair on my chest then pushing against me to sit up for a moment, she drew one knee up and over to straddle me. Her little wings fanned out on either side and as she bent close again I could smell the sweetness of her breath.
"How do you like your anniversary present?" she whispered, her lips brushing against mine.
I reached under to fondle her through the silk gracefully rippling over her skin. Drawing her face to mine and kissing her deeply, I gently tugged at the ribbon around her waist. The whole affair fell open, allowing me to cradle a bare, pear-shaped breast in my large hand. Lavishing the fragrant nape of her lovely neck, I slid both silk straps off her shoulders, baring their elegant contours. I pulled the fabric down to expose her fully, taking her with both hands and rolling the swollen bud of her left nipple between two fingers.
That one in particular had been the source of far more excitement than its modest proportions would suggest. Penny had consented to having it pierced, upon my request, a few months before, and liked to remind me of the favor when it served her devious little purposes. She was shameless, mentioning it under her breath when we were in mixed company, mingling with friends, colleagues and acquaintances. It especially pleased her to tease me during social and administrative functions at the psych department, to risk blowing the lid off our little affair just to watch me squirm—and, she would readily admit, in order to merit a special brand of punishment for her misbehavior, sanctions she knew I loved to administer.
She inhaled sharply when I pinched down hard on that vulnerable spot, her moist lips flushing red and drawing apart. I shoved my tongue between them to taste her again, then dipped my head down to her pierced breast and drew the tender tip into my mouth, nibbling it like a puffy gumdrop and flicking the tiny silver ring with the tip of my tongue. Penny threw her head back at once and gave a soft cry at my aggressive treatment of an already sensitive area made even more responsive.
I passed from one breast to the other, breathing them in, intoxicated by the warm, fresh smell of her, while my hands explored the body she had been so mercilessly teasing me with. She tousled my hair and planted kisses here and there between little gasps and starts.
I now sat upright, my face buried in Penny's bust while she squirmed impatiently on my lap. When my hands found her rump, babysoft and splayed beneath the tickling hem of her half-discarded négligée, I roughly seized her hips and dug my nails in. Her thighs squeezed against mine from either side and she ground the fleshy tangle between her legs against my bare cock where it strained between them.
"I wish…" I began.
"You wish…," she teased, parroting my earlier quip.
"I wish…," I began again, choosing my words carefully, "…to have full control over that naughty mouth of yours as long as you're my fairy slave."
"'Full control,' huh?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow. She dropped her hips and rode forward, grinding my aching shaft with her clit, swollen now and poking me through that tiny, moistening patch of satin on her thong.
"I want that pretty mouth to belong to me tonight. Whatever I want to fill it with, wherever I want it to go, whatever I want it to do—you'll respond by saying 'As you wish,' and then you'll—"