Damn That Really… Butters My Biscuits 😏

The all-too-familiar harmony of skin meeting each other in a squelching slap echoed throughout the room. The tune of your melodic moans soon chased after it, bouncing against the old stone walls as the air filled with a symphony of lust.

It was a tune known well within the mountain halls, as it had danced throughout them more frequently than not. If it were up to the golden-haired prince, the song of your pleasure would be sung every second of every hour, yet he was rational enough to know that was impossible, though it did not mean he had not attempted to turn the fantasy into reality more than once.

The thick stretch of the golden-hired dwarf's fat cock pushed deep within your inner walls, carving away into your core just as his people carved away at stone, crafting the perfect sheath for his throbbing member. The bed creaked and groaned with each sharp thrust of his toned hips. Your drenched cunt choked upon the girth of his length, turning the once drool of pleasure that trickled from the hole into a sobbing stream of endless arousal that coated his length with a squelch.

The harsh slap of his toned hips meeting the flesh of your ass boomed throughout the room, a sound accompanied by a litany of gruff praises that fell from his lips as they nipped against the crook of your neck. The harsh prickle of his bearded face rubbed against the sensitive skin, earning a shiver of pleasure to roam throughout your body as your hands clenched at the smooth sheets that lay beneath you.

A sensation that would cause your inner walls to clench around his throbbing length, quivering at the deep stretch of the thick, reddened tip continued to pound away at your most sensitive spots—guiding you to the edge of pleasure with each sharp thrust of his hips.

The hold he once had on your shoulder would drop, his thick, calloused fingers gliding down slowly—leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as it slid down the curve of your side before curving downwards and slipping between the flesh of your legs. The harshness of his thumb would slip down between your slick folds, earning yet another shiver to roam down your spine as the weight of your head tilted back at the sensation—feeling his thumb slowly gliding up and down between your folds, seeking out that sensitive bundle of nerves your lover adored so much.

And it would come into contact with your twitching, sensitive clit, causing your hips to buck upwards into his touch. The harshness of your hips connecting with each thrust and swirl of his thick thumb, his motions leading you in the dance of pleasure as he guided you closer to the edge. A familiar static would begin to trail up from the tips of your toes as they curled inwards, tightening your feet as the grasp of your inner walls tightened around his fattened cock, a wordless warning that you were nearing the peak.

The room felt heavy, roaming with the thickness of lust as a sheen of sweat weighed upon your soft skin. The static of pleasure roams wild within your veins, yet the static would almost come to a halt as your lover's fullness departs from you without warning. Before a single question as to why he would pull away could form within your lust-driven brain, the wetness of his tongue would meet your aching cunt.

The warm, wet caress of the muscle would lap up the length of your womanhood. His licks were quick and eager as he licked up the entirety of your cunt, his tongue cleaning out every crack and crevice of that sweet, tangy nectar that gushed forth from your cunt.

Though, the hole he once fucked was not neglected for long as the sudden stretch of his warm, twitching tongue would ease into your moistened entrance. A pleased growl would vibrate into your cunt, causing your cunt to quiver upon his tongue as the tang of your arousal would encase his tongue entirely.

The strokes of his tongue would feel random yet planned. Sudden lines, jabs, and swirls would dance within the walls of your entrance—but if you had half a mind within the raging waves of pleasure you were treading in, you would have noticed he was spelling his name inside of you. The pressure of his thumb against your clit would continue as his tongue danced within your cunt, as each swirl of the calloused thickness would leave you teetering towards the brink of pleasure.

"Come for me." A growled command you would follow within an instance, being thrown over the edge of pleasure as his name fell from your lips like a desperate prayer as the sweet liquid of your nectar would gush forth from your cunt, flooding his mouth and soaking his thick beard. Hot tears prick within the corners of your eyes as the familiar electric sensation roams wild throughout your veins—a sensation your dwarven lover would feel through the throbbing of your pussy.

A pleased growl would vibrate against your sensitive, twitching cunt allowing the waves of pleasure to sweep you away further as you floated within the high of lustful ecstasy. The scent of your arousal weighed heavy within the cold mountain air as the heat of your breath hovered above your quivering form. The bed groaned with a creak of the weight of your lover shifted upwards, golden beard dripping with the essence of you.

And so, it continued onwards just as it had once started: with the deep stretch of his throbbing length sliding inside of you and the thumping of the old, wooden frame bouncing against the stone wall. The air soon filled with the squelching slap of skin meeting each other yet again, a symphony you would never grow tired of.

You took in a deep breath as you walked through the grand entry of the High Lord of Day’s favorite private library.  You tried to quell the nerves that buzzed in your stomach.  It was your first day joining the ranks of the High Lord’s honored scholars, and you couldn’t help the anxiety that coursed through your body.

Since you were a little kid, raised on the importance of knowledge and curiosity, you had dreamed of becoming one of the honored scholars that worked under the High Lord of Day.  Helion Spell Cleaver, your High Lord, was not only immeasurably talented at the magical arts, but also an avid scholar with some of the largest and most prestigious libraries in Prythian.  He invited a handful of scholars to work with him every decade - to help him translate ancient texts and delve into his many research projects.  It was quite the honor to be selected - to be granted access to his private libraries.

You had been a quiet child.  You mother always told you that you were too shy for your own good.  As soon as you learned to read, you poured yourself into books, loving the freedom reading gave you.  The idea of being a scholar was everything you had ever wanted.

When you were selected, you were overjoyed.  It was everything you had worked for – everything you had so desperately desired.  As you walked into the breathtaking library, you reminded yourself of how hard you had worked to be here.  You tried to convince yourself that you belonged.

There were three other scholars who had been selected.  Each of them was sitting at one of the elegant wooden tables set up in front of the library’s large windows. 

You took your seat at one of the tables, placing your satchel on the chair next to you.  Two accomplished scholars were standing before the tables, gathering various piles of parchment to pass out.  You wondered how long they had worked here – if they enjoyed the work as much as you imagined you would.

As the scholars passed out various texts and pieces of parchment, you saw the High Lord of Day approach.  You had never met the High Lord before, had only seen him from afar at festivals.  You knew he was renowned not only for his intelligence but for his handsomeness and flirtatious nature.  You had always been shy, had always strayed from the spotlight, so you were cautious given what you had heard of High Lord Helion.

“Welcome,” Helion greeted you in a loud, silky voice.  He certainly was handsome with his amber eyes and shimmering brown skin, but you were more interested in his mind than his looks.  “I am glad you have all decided to join us.”  He winked as he said the last words, causing a deep flush to spread across your cheeks.

“My scholars have distributed various manuscripts and texts for you to analyze and translate, each catered to your particular skillset.  You are welcome to use any of the books in the library to aid your work.  The library is spelled to send you any book we have, if you request it – just think of what you want, and the library shall send it to you.  If you have any questions, please ask the supervising scholars. I will return later this afternoon to check in on your progress,” Helion told you with a warm smile.  He was less stern than you would have expected, certainly less formal than you would have thought a High Lord to be.

You got to work reading through the documents you had been given.  One was a manuscript of an ancient history on magical artifacts.  Another was a torn document containing partial instructions to a spell that needed to be recreated.  The last was a memoir requiring translation.

The work fascinated you as you poured over each document.  This was what you adored doing – reading through old documents and trying to piece together their history, their meaning.  Lost in your work, you scribbled various notes on the parchment provided.  You barely noticed the other scholars as they worked – purely focused on the task in front of you. 

The history on magical artifacts and the memoir that required translation were relatively easy work.  You completed them both quickly with a little help from various books in the library. 

The spell, however, required extra care.  You had done some preservation of spell books in the past, likely why Helion had assigned you the task, but the document was greatly damaged.  The writing was hard to decipher in certain areas and some portions had been ripped off.  It took you a long time matching the writing to the script in various spell books before you could even figure out the author.  By your estimations, the document was likely thousands of years old, belonging to an old fae.

Once you had discovered the author, you were able to piece together some of the scribbled writing using clues from the author’s other spell books on file.  The missing portions would be harder to decode, but you had leads on which each missing portion likely contained.  It wasn’t perfect, but it was a good start.

You hadn’t noticed Helion had returned, too lost in your own work, until he was leaning over your shoulder, reading through your notes.

“You think the spell is the work of Xavius?” Helion asked casually, his honeyed voice dripping with curiosity.  You jumped slightly at the sound of his voice and his proximity.  A blush crept over your cheeks.

“Oh, um, yes.  I believe so, my lord,” you mumbled, embarrassment coursing through you.  Your timid nature, causing you to second guess yourself in front of the High Lord.

“Are you sure?” Helion asked, leaning even closer to you as he peered down at your work.  Helion seemed to have no qualms about personal space.

You nodded, not quite able to bring yourself to look at the High Lord’s face.  Your features were still warm from your blush. 

“I cross-referenced Xavius’s other texts.  The handwriting matches as does the syntax, and the state of the parchment seems to suggest that it was from around the same time that Xavius’s other spell books were written,” you told Helion, trying to appear confident in your work despite how uncertain his proximity made you feel. 

Helion hummed in approval as he grabbed the text to compare it to the spell book you had pulled. 

“You’re right,” he said after a moment.  “Perhaps tomorrow I can have you look at some other lost spell texts we have yet to identify.  Maybe you will have some luck with those as well.”

You blushed at Helion’s words, at the idea that he might have been pleased with your work.  You nodded at him, dipping your head into a slight bow as he moved on to talk with other scholars.

When you completed your work for the day, you grabbed your satchel and headed towards the doors of the library. 

“Good work today,” Helion told you as you passed him, his words instantly causing your cheeks to alight in a deep blush. 

…

The following months passed quickly as you worked in the library.  Helion had assigned you various spells to identify and preserve as best you could.  He seemed to take a special interest in your work, always asking you about your progress.  You were barely able to answer his questions without blushing, the intensity of the High Lord’s attention always making butterflies dance in your stomach. 

You loved the work.  You adored being able to read the old texts and piece together who may have written them and why.  Each spell was like a personal challenge, a puzzle for you to solve. 

The other scholars were easy to work with, but you didn’t seek their company beyond your work hours.  When you finished for the day, you hurried home to do some personal reading.

One night, after Helion had given you a batch of new spells to identify, you were packing up your things to head home.  You hadn’t made much progress on the spells, and you could sense that time was of the essence for this particular group. 

You heard footsteps approaching your table, and you knew it was Helion before you even looked up.  There was something about the way he carried himself, the way he moved through a room, that made him easy to identify.  You had also been harboring a small crush on the High Lord, enamored by his intelligent mind and endless curiosity that mirrored your own.  Though, you refused to let it get out of hand, knowing a High Lord would never be interested in a shy, ordinary fae such as yourself.

“I know tomorrow is your day off, but is there any chance you would be able to come in?” Helion asked, drawing your eyes to his.  A single look in his amber eyes had you blushing.

“Of course, my lord.  I would be happy to come in tomorrow,” you told him because you had no plans other than reading in the comfort of your bed.  You were eager to have another crack at the spells you had been working on today.

“You’re sure?” He questioned, eyes searching your face to ensure you didn’t feel obligated on your day off.  When you nodded, he gave you a warm smile and said, “Alright then, it’s a date.  I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 

With a wink, Helion left you blushing at his words, unable to think past the word date.

…

When you arrived the next morning, you found Helion sitting at your usual table in the library with a tea tray sitting next to him.

“Good morning,” Helion greeted with a grin, his charm and cheeriness clearly not affected by the early hours of the morning.

You gave him a small smile back as you set up your documents.  Helion was already looking over a few as he sipped his tea.

When he noticed you eying the tea in his hand, he gave you a smile.  “The documents have all been spelled, don’t worry.  There won’t be any spill damage on my watch.”  You nodded, wishing it wasn’t so easy for the High Lord to read your thoughts.  You wondered what else he could read just from your expression.

You settled into your work across from Helion, trying to ignore his presence and the way he made your heart beat a few paces quicker than usual. 

Whenever Helion found something, he would draw your attention so you could look it over.  He had an easy way about him and was good at sharing information easily.  You wished it was so natural for you to talk with others.

“Shall we take a break?” Helion asked after a few hours of work.  You had made good progress already.  The two of you were able to quickly piece together the authors of each spell and worked well together at identifying missing information. 

You nodded as Helion waved his hand and a new tray appeared with small sandwiches and refreshments.  “Please, help yourself,” he told you with a smile. 

As you ate quietly, you could feel Helion’s attention on you.  You tried not to let it faze you, desperate to stop the flush that always graced your features when Helion looked at you.

“So, tell me a little bit about yourself,” Helion said after a moment, his words dripping with all the charm you had seen him exude on multiple occasions.  It was strange to hear him use it on you.

“There’s not much interesting to say,” you told him with an easy shrug.  Nothing about you would interest a High Lord.

“I find everything about you very interesting,” Helion told you, and when you looked up at him with slightly widened eyes, you could tell that he was being genuine.  You swallowed, not sure what to say. 

“Well,” you said after a moment, voice unsure as you looked at the High Lord in front of you who gave you an encouraging nod.  “I like to read,” you told him. 

Helion smiled at you.  His grin was as warm as the sun, as welcoming as a summer’s day.

“And what do you like to read?  Beyond ancient spell texts, of course,” Helion asked with a smile and a rogue wink.  Everything about his attention made you feel warm.

You told him of your favorite authors, your favorite books.  You almost expected him to tease you, to laugh when you told him what you enjoyed, but Helion just regarded you with warm, gentle eyes before he told you that he had read them all and enjoyed them too.  The idea of sharing an interest with Helion seemed crazy to you, but it was nice.  You hadn’t spoken to someone new about things you enjoyed in a long time.

…

When you returned the next day, you found three books sitting on your table.  These weren’t the kind of historical texts or spell books you typically used for work.  Instead, they were novels – similar to the ones you had told Helion you enjoyed. 

On top of the pile sat a note in beautiful script:

I enjoyed these.  I hope you enjoy them too.  Let me know when you finish them, we can have tea and discuss.

                                                                                             Yours,

                                                                                                       H

The idea that Helion had thought of you last night and had selected these books for you made your heart warm and your cheeks redden.  You didn’t even let your mind consider the fact that he had signed the letter “yours.”  After all, he was the High Lord, and you were nothing but a scholar.

…

You devoured the books Helion had given you.  Each one was perfect.  They were exactly the kind of novels you enjoyed, each with a slightly different twist. 

You knew Helion had told you to tell him when you were finished, but you couldn’t find the words the next few times you saw him.  You were never good at that sort of thing.  You also wondered if he had really meant it or if he was just being polite.  You couldn’t imagine why he would want to spend extra time with you.

About a week after you finished reading them, a new note appeared on your desk.  It read:

Have you finished yet?

                                                                                             Yours,

                                                                                                       H

You looked up to find Helion’s golden eyes on you, watching you in question from where he sat across the library.  You gave him a shy nod and he smiled back.

Another note appeared before you, sent by the Spell Cleaver himself.

Stay for tea tomorrow after your shift?

                                                                                             Yours truly,

                                                                                                       H

You looked up again and nodded, a small smile forming your lips.  Helion sent you his signature grin.  The sight of it alone made your cheeks heat.

…

The next day, as you wrapped up your work, you couldn’t help but feel nervous anticipation as you waited for the other scholars to head out so you could meet with Helion.  You still didn’t know why he had even asked you to tea in the first place.  Who were you to share his valuable time?

When the other scholars had left, Helion met you at your table.

“Ready?” He asked, offering you his arm.  You took it shyly as he smiled down at you.

Helion led you to a warm sitting room in the palace.  It was beautiful with soft couches and a fireplace anchored by large bookshelves.

“So did you like them?” Helion asked as he plopped down easily on one of the sofas.  You couldn’t help but laugh at him, at the ease with which he moved through the world.

“I did,” you confirmed, tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear.  Helion seemed to track the movement. 

“And which one was your favorite?” He pushed, his plush lips forming a grin.  He was effortlessly beautiful.

“I liked them all,” you told him with a shrug, and Helion rolled his eyes. 

“I know there are opinions in there, darling, you don’t have to hide them,” Helion told you with a smirk as he offered you tea. 

You took a deep breath, trying to find the courage that often left you in social situations.

“Well,” you said, your voice dripping with uncertainty, before you met Helion’s eye.  He was smiling at you in the gentlest, most encouraging way.  His expression, the way he regarded you with such kindness, such gentleness, forced the words out of your throat.

The next thing you knew, the two of you were laughing together about all the best and worst parts of each of the novels.  You hadn’t let yourself be this open with someone in a long time, if ever, but you found Helion easy to talk to.  When he was looking at you, you never felt judged.

…

Helion continued to send you books in the following weeks.  Each time you’d finish, he would invite you for tea and you’d spend hours listening and chatting about each book.  After a while, talking to him, opening up, became easy. 

Slowly, your conversations drifted away from just the books.  He seemed to know exactly how to get you tell him something about yourself without scaring you off.

One night as you were discussing one of the books Helion had lent you, you found him staring at you with wide eyes. 

“What?” You asked, slightly uneased by his expression.

“There’s a party tomorrow at the palace.  I have to go, High Lord duties and all,” Helion told you with a smile and a small roll of his eyes.  You nodded as you had heard some of the other scholars were going.

“Come with me, as my guest,” Helion said, his voice almost a plead.  You gaped at him, your brain not processing his request.

“Um, parties aren’t really my scene,” you told him, your cheeks burning.

Helion nodded, giving you an understanding smile.

“I know, and I get if you don’t want to come, but I want you there.  I want you to be there with me.”  Helion’s words were so gentle, almost loving as he looked at you with his amber eyes.

“I don’t know,” you told him, the idea of being on the High Lord’s arm in a crowd of people slightly terrified you.  Besides, you couldn’t imagine that he would really want you there over all the other beautiful fae who seemed to flock to him.

“I would be with you the whole time, and we could leave if you felt overwhelmed,” Helion told you as he moved closer to you so that he could take your hand in his.  The contact made you suck in a breath.  You didn’t know how to process anything.

“Why me?” You asked, your voice unsure. 

Helion smiled at you as he brought his hand up to cup your cheek gently. 

“I enjoy spending time with you.  I think you really are the most interesting fae I have ever met.  And the most intelligent.  And the most beautiful.”  Helion’s voice was as soft as the contact of his hand against your cheek.  You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes.

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, not knowing how to believe him. 

Helion moved closer, pressing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss.  The contact of his warm lips against yours was sweet, loving.  You let out a slight whimper at the feeling and you could feel how the sound made Helion tense, how it made him want to deepen the kiss.

Instead, however, he pulled away and looked into your eyes.