Homelands Pt. 07 Ch. 02

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Author's note

Part Seven moves the story to Spring. It is not necessary for you to have read earlier parts of the story, though things may make more sense if you have.

This is primarily an incest story, but it is also sci-fi/fantasy, and supernatural elements are not incidental to the plot. Additionally, many chapters will feature elements of other categories, particularly group sex and anal.

All sexual acts are consensual and involve parties who are at least eighteen years of age.

As ever, if you have questions feel free to email me or leave a comment. Either way, I'll try to respond in a timely manner.

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The doorbell rang, stopped, then rang again, pulling him from his slumber.

Cahill scrambled out of bed. The sound took him by surprise. He hadn't ordered anything online of late. Hardly anyone besides the UPS guy ever rang his doorbell. Or foot on his front step, for that matter. Probably just some evangelists, or girl scouts selling cookies, but his curiosity got the better of him.

As he pulled a shirt on and ran his fingers through his hair, he found himself surprised at how awake and energetic he felt. Almost well-rested, even. That was two days running.

The strange part was, he'd had one of his dreams last night. As ever, the details were already fleeing rapidly. But he didn't need to recall exactly what had happened in his dream to know that he'd gone off into the woods. Seen the fey.

Her especially.

Caronwyn.

Those were the rarest of nights. He thought he might not even have shared her with Gallech this time. The last time that had happened was years ago, if he wasn't mistaken.

Whether he'd shared her with his brother or not, he was sure that he'd spent the night with his mother. The taste of strawberry was still on his lips.

All the women of that world had a unique taste. Oona tasted a bit like coffee, of all things. Fiona reminded him of mint and and berry and tea leaves. Little Teagan tasted like vanilla. None of those were bad things, but his mother had the most delicious juice he'd ever tasted. Being reminded of it made him want to crawl back into bed and go right back to sleep, nevermind that he was wide awake.

The doorbell rang yet again.

"Coming!" he called out.

He took one last look at himself in the mirror. The Cahill of this world, the real Cahill, was handsome enough. And relatively fit. But compared to the way he looked in his dreams, he was almost homely. He felt great, but he didn't look it. Not in comparison with what the fey insisted was his true appearance.

With a sigh, he headed down the hall.

It was a nice to wake up feeling strong and alert though. Muscles all limber and full of energy. Actually, it was more than just that. Cahill felt as though he could leap over buildings, swim to the bottom of the sea, crush diamonds with his fingers, or fly through the air. There was nothing he couldn't do, it seemed. It was like... his mother had fed him some sort of supernatural energy with her every climax. He wasn't sure why that choice of words came to mind so readily, but it did.

Of course he'd spent the night fucking his fairy goddess of a mother silly, gaining supernatural energy from her with each orgasm she experienced. And of course that energy enabled him to do th impossible. To grow extra limbs and change shape and more besides. Wasn't that how everyone spent their Tuesday nights?

The doorbell started to ring again just as he reached it.

"Oh! You're home," Liadan said. Her eyes met his then she blushed and looked down at the styrofoam crate she held. There were two cups of coffee and two muffins in it. "I was just gonna... I mean, g'morning."

"It's two in the afternoon," he said.

"Was speaking figuratively," she said. After a slight pause, she added, "Figured you're the type to sleep late. What with the whole lack of gainful employment and all."

Cahill snickered.

"Well?" she asked, raising the crate up, in case it had escaped his attention. "You gonna invite me in or what?"

His eyes took note of the coffee and brown paper bag that must have held doughnuts or muffins or something, but they were a bit preoccupied with the rest of what lay before them.

Liadan wore jeans so tight she'd probably need a surgeon to remove them, and bustier that ought not have been worn outside the bedroom, even if the ensemble was made a little more decent by the half-vest she wore over the bustier. The latter was worn open, though, exposing her generous cleavage. And it didn't come much below her breasts. As a result, it made her look like she had an even more voluptuous figure than she did. The thick fabric of the vest made her bust seem even larger than it was, while the skintight bustier pulled what was already a small waist in further. Though Cahill doubted that the baggiest sweatshirt could have hid the fact that she had a phenomenal hourglass figure, in that outfit, it was even harder not to notice her inhuman curves.

Her eyes lowered to her own body, as she nervously checked to make sure that she was comfortable with what Cahill was seeing. Could she possibly have doubted it?

Clearing his throat, Cahill stepped aside and gestured for her to enter.

Once she did, he led her out to the back yard. Not because he was ashamed of the state of his house, but because she seemed like an outdoorsy kinda gal. A nature lover.

"Nice view," she said once they were seated in their wicker chairs. Her brown eyes looked across his well-maintained yard to the woods beyond. The gateway to his dream world.

"I like it," he said, unsure if she was mocking him.

Liadan nodded as she sipped her coffee. "Good to have nature nearby."

"Yeah," he said.

It sounded like innocent small talk, but it didn't feel like it. She had a bemused look on her face. Like she was slipping subtext past him just to see if she could get away with it, and was infinitely amused to find that she could.

Their eyes met and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Liadan asked, "Do you want to tell me about them?"

"The woods?" Cahill asked, though he knew that wasn't what she'd meant. He just wasn't sure what she did mean.

"Your dreams, silly," she said.

Cahill picked at his muffin. "What dreams?"

"Hmm," she said, as if he'd said something terribly interesting.

Cahill chuckled to himself. "You know, when I left the house last night, I figured we'd end up having breakfast together this morning. Just didn't think it'd be like this."

His eyes traveled up and down her body, and he felt hers doing the same.

She could try to hide it, but she liked what she saw. His drawstring pants were made of thin fabric, and they did little to hide the size of his semi-erect penis. The tank top smelled like it was ready to go in the laundry heap, but it also did a nice job of revealing that he had little better to do with his spare time than make flutes and work out religiously. Despite all the time he spent lifting weights, he didn't have the kind of body here that he did in that other world, but he still looked better than most guys.

"Trying to say I'm the kind of girl who jumps into bed with a guy she hardly knows?" Liadan asked, though without any of the indignation that would've been there if she'd truly thought he was accusing her of being overly promiscuous. If this was anything but the game they both knew it was.

"Not generally, no," he said. "But, then, I'm not most guys."

A coy smile. "I think we've established that already."

Perhaps he should have cared that he knew next to nothing about her. That he didn't even know the name of the band her brother played it, how old she was, her last name, where exactly she was from, how long she'd be in town, or anything.

But he didn't.

Cahill stood up, walked over to her, and took the coffee and muffin from her. He set them down on the table, beside his own abandoned breakfast, then pulled her to her feet.

"All that tripe you've heard about buying a lass dinner and flowers and stuff first? Nonsense. All of it," Liadan said.

"That why you paid last night?" Cahill replied.

"Mmm-hmm. Exactly," she said.

The look in her eyes said that she knew that she was supposed to continue with false protests, for propriety's sake, but she just didn't care. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her, and she wasn't about to feel guilty about giving in to her desires. It was on him to make the first move, but he'd find her more than receptive if he did so.

So he did so.

Cahill pulled her up out of her seat, rested his hand on the small of her back, and pressed her against him as he leaned down to kiss her. She neither resisted nor returned the kiss, initially. Didn't take long for her to open up though. She got more and more into it, and before long, her strong legs were wrapped around his waist and the only thing holding her up was the hand he had resting on her glorious ass. She held his strong neck with one hand, the other gripped his meaty shoulder like it was a foothold on a rock-climbing wall. Their tongues sparred, trading jabs and swirling about one another like fencing blades.

They didn't come up for air once as he carried her through the sliding door, across the kitchen, and down the hall to his bedroom. Part of him knew that was odd. Even two young to youngish people, in peak physical shape, couldn't do that. Not while kissing the way they were kissing. Not when every brush of her lips against his made his spine tingle, as he suspected it did hers. Cahill could feel her heart pounding every bit as fast as his was. But he didn't stop to think about it.

That would come later. Not much later, but later.

Perhaps he also should have noted that they set a record for how quickly and smoothly they stripped each other free of their clothes. That part of the ritual was supposed to involve a certain amount of awkward fumbling. It was almost like their clothes sublimated, only growing solid again once they lay in a heap on the floor.

He couldn't believe how good the damn woman looked naked. All his previous lovers seemed shamefully unattractive in comparison.

The mortal ones anyway.

Her breasts were firm and perky, yet much bigger than made any sense given how fit she was. It took a lot to impress Cahill when it came, but even he had to admit that Liadan's endowment was quite impressive. He could almost believe that they were implants, if he hadn't seen her naked. They were too big for a woman of her build, but they had the right amount of sag, the right feel, and there were no scars to be found on her body.

No imperfections of any kind, for that matter. Not a single stretch mark or mole, no nicks or bumps from shaving, or anything of the sort could be found anywhere on her. He'd seen similarly flawless female forms before, but only in his dreams.

If her breasts only sort of impressed him, her lower body had him in total awe of her. More muscular than he tended to go for, but that wasn't without its appeal. Her ass was unlike any he'd ever seen. His sister and his mother both had beautiful, big asses, but not like Liadan's. Her posterior was just as outsized, as perfectly heart-shaped, as Fiona's and Caronwyn's, but it was much firmer. It still jiggled just a wee bit when he slapped it, as he did quite often in the hours that followed, but it wasn't nearly as supple as his sister's or his mother's. The fey creatures his subconscious had created were softer of body. Liadan's thighs, like her ass, were thickly muscled. She could probably cut him in half with those beauties, if she so chose. Maybe even have done the same to car. That excited Cahill, even though it made him slightly uncomfortable as well.

Those lips of hers were a delight to kiss. And they enabled her to work wonders downtown. Not that her tongue-work was lacking either. Cahill had nearly cried the first time she took him in her mouth. Well, he'd nearly cried when she'd sloooowly enveloped him with her soft pillows, and when her expert tongue set to work soon thereafter. When she'd withdrawn her warm mouth just as he was nearing climax, it had gotten even worse. No tears had flown, but he'd let out a cry of anguish that had made him sound like a child.

"Would you like me to finish?" she asked, affecting curiosity so persuasively the could almost think that she didn't know the answer to that question. That she was doing something other than teasing him mercilessly.

"Please," Cahill asked, stroking his poor cock.

"How badly would you like that?" she asked, lowering herself again. A slow lick of her tongue made him whimper. "Tell me."

"I'll do anyth-," he started, before cutting himself short. If he'd finished the sentence, she'd be well within her rights to say that he'd offered her a boon.

Assuming she was what he was starting to believe she had to be. And though some part of him continued to insist that a grown man shouldn't believe in fairy tales, he was finding it harder and harder to take that voice seriously.

"I'll do the same for you," he said.

A crooked smile spread across her beautiful face. "You will anyway."

True enough. He was dying to find out what she tasted like.

"What else do you have to offer?" she asked.

Cahill's heart raced. Excitement slowly gave way to panic. Maybe it was all real. That would be a relief. More than a relief. But it could mean that Fiona was right about Liadan. That she was one of them. A Dreamsmyth. That she was going to use him, and not just to satisfy her sexual urges.

Before he could protest, though, she engulfed him once more. And all those thoughts disappeared, along with every other care in the world.

Cahill ran his hands through her thick brown hair, delighting in the feel of it. It was so unlike his sister's hair, or his mother's. Their locks seemed almost liquid in comparison. That didn't make Liadan's hair any better or worse than that of the Walker women, but it was different, and he liked it.

When he erupted like a volcano, spewing hot cum into her hungry mouth, Cahill felt the world melt away. The orgasms he experienced in his dreams were like that. Each and every one brought with it a sense of euphoria that was unlike anything he experienced in the waking world. Until now. He couldn't do that to himself, nor had any mortal woman ever delivered such pleasure.

Liadan smiled at him as she rose up from his still hard cock and crawled up the bed towards him. "If I didn't know any better," she said, "I'd think you enjoyed that."

Cahill laughed, stroking her gorgeous hair some more. If the other fey women's manes reminded him of silk, hers reminded him of velvet. That wasn't quite right, but it was close. "No one gets it right the first time," he said. "But you'll learn."

She made a face at him and then, before he realized what she was doing, gave his nipple a gentle tweak. He squealed and recoiled, though more from surprise than pain. She hadn't applied enough pressure to really hurt him.

He couldn't believe how fast she'd moved though. Where her forearm should have been, his eyes had found only a brown blur. Yet the lightning stroke hadn't detracted anything from the precision or grace of her playful strike.

"I've sucked plenty of dicks, I'll have you know," she said, in a tone that was somehow both proud and self-deprecating. Like she wasn't sure whether she wanted him to be impressed or repulsed by that, and equally unsure whether she cared.

"Don't doubt that you have," Cahill said.

Another pinch. This time, delivered at merely human speed. He laughed and kissed the top of her head as affectionately as he might have Fiona's.

That took him by surprise. He hardly knew this woman. The otherworldly vibe she gave off reminded him of his family. Or the symptoms of his delusion that he thought of his family. Whichever they were. But that didn't make her family. She might be fey, if he wasn't crazy after all, but that didn't make it okay to lower his guard.

"What's wrong?" she asked. The hand that had started caressing his shoulder and bicep now that it was done attacking him froze. "You went all tense."

Rather than lie to her, Cahill sat up and gently pushed her onto her back. Then he went and knelt between her legs. "My turn," he said.

That seemed answer enough for her. She raked her nails through his short hair, and gave him the green light by way of a soft smile.

She tasted wonderful. Just like the other fey, her juices were salty and sweaty and fragrant, but there was a hint of something sweeter as well. In her case, that something was blueberries. Her outer labia were prominent and dark. Almost purple. The pink inside contrasted delightfully with those beautiful outer folds. Her pubic hair was neatly groomed, but there was a gorgeous little triangle pointing the way to her love canal.

Cahill appreciated that. Too many women these days, especially those her age, went completely bald. He didn't much care for feeling as though he was making love to a child rather than a grown woman. Some men might have, but not Cahill.

As beautiful as her parts were, the true pleasure of pleasing her was the way she responded. She gave him gentle feedback, sometimes verbally and sometimes not, helping him to discover what worked best for her. They communicated openly with one another, the way lovers should. Cahill was well-practiced at cunnilingus, but in his experience, the same technique could make one woman melt and another squirm, and not in a good way. And it might do nothing at all, one way or the other, for some third woman. Without the woman's input, there was no way of knowing the best way to satisfy her. Fortunately, Liadan was not one of those women who was shy about discussing such things. She let him know what didn't work, and she was generous with her praise when he pushed the right buttons. At least, at first. Later on, she had less to say, but her inability to speak gave him all the confirmation he needed that he was doing something right.

After he guided her through not one but two intense orgasms, Cahill lay down beside a very silent Liadan. The only sound in his bedroom was that of her labored breathing.

"Nothing clever to say?" he asked.

She shook her head.

Cahill smiled and kissed the side of her head.

Then, despite that gesture, she spoke a few simple words that were unlike any to have come out of the mouth of any other woman he'd just finished servicing. "Me brothers could learn a few things from you. D'you offer lessons?"

Her brothers.

Cahill tried dismissing all the little signs pointing towards her being one of the fey. That the whole "who needs oxygen anyway" thing was perfectly ordinary, or that plenty of ordinary women had unreal figures and flawless skin and sweet-tasting juices. That there was nothing odd about casually speaking of having her brothers perform oral sex on her.

It was getting harder and harder to maintain the illusion though.

Time to admit to himself that the fey hadn't lied to him after all. That he wasn't of this world, and neither was Liadan. That they came from a magical world where everyone was unreasonably beautiful, and unnaturally drawn to their family members. A world of glamour and incest, wonder and depravity, and of purest beauty.

"And you know what I am," she said.

It wasn't a question. She just lay there, hands folded over her toned abs, and regarded him calmly out of the corner of her eyes. Her bountiful bosom no longer rose and fell as she struggled to regain her breath. She was the very essence of calm, made flesh, even though she'd just as good as admitted that she wasn't fucking human.

"I've always known," he found himself saying in response.

And it was true. Or near enough. It certainly wasn't an outright lie. Because, if it had been, the words wouldn't have left his mouth. He realized that now. Like any of the fey, he could deceive, and he could say things that were patently untrue when the context would clearly indicate that he was being sarcastic, but he could not tell blatant falsehoods with the intend of having them be believed.