#fae fucker

You should have known.

You should have known when the receptionist at the hotel desk gave you that look. That slight downturn of her lips, that flicker of panic behind her eyes.

“I’m so sorry. There’s only one room left.”

And standing right beside you? Tyl.

Your long-distance coworker, partner in late-night deadlines, king of chaotic messages and flawless PowerPoints.

Blond, tall, lean and infuriatingly perfect. Slightly smug but insufferably handsome — more handsome than on video calls. A touch of silver at his temples, which made him all the more attractive.

Oh, he was a fae, too.

And, today, you saw him in his full glory.

The tailored shirt clung just right over his shoulders, the sleeves rolled to reveal strong veined forearms. He wore fake glasses that made you feel things you shouldn’t when you knew full well he didn’t need them. As if he wasn’t already dangerous enough with that smile, that voice, and those inhuman golden eyes.

He was elegance and disorder all wrapped in a lean, strong body. One that belonged in a fantasy novel... or a bike trail. Half storybook prince, half biking enthusiast. Either way, he was stunning.

You turned to Tyl and tried to speak. Failed. Tried again.

“We can… take turns sleeping in the bed. Or… I’ll take the floor.”

He tilted his head, glasses catching the light. “You’re not sleeping on the floor. Don’t insult me.”

And with that he plucked the keycard from the receptionist’s fingers and strolled off, already owning the hallway and all the stares around him. You rushed after him, half stunned, half sweating.

You reached the room. The keycard beeped. The door opened.

And there it was.

One room. One too-soft bed. One too-large fae filling the space.

Your every nerve screamed danger.

What was the real danger you asked?

You. Alone. With him.

Tyl stood near the window, leisurely taking in the room. Then he turned, his golden eyes roaming over you with an intensity that froze your breath.

The way his gaze raked down your body made your core clench. There was no smug grin. No teasing quirk of his lips. Just stillness.

This wasn’t what you were used to. You’d only ever seen him in Zoom windows, pixelated smiles, the occasional glitchy laugh. A handsome face on a screen. A husky voice filtered through tinny speakers.

But now… now he was here.

Close enough for you to smell the warm spice of his cologne. For you to see every detail on his beautiful face. To feel his heat even through his clothes.

“Tyl?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you. Through you. His chest rose and fell and his expression was heated.

“I thought I was imagining it.” The timbre of his voice was lower than usual. Rougher.

You frowned. “Imagining what?”

“You.”

“I thought it was a crush,” he explained. “A distraction. Something stupid. But your scent… It never came through the screen. And now…”

He stepped closer.

Close enough for you to smell him; warm spice, something woody and pleasant.

“What?” You studied him curiously.

“I worked with you for three years. Sat through your sarcastic messages, watched you in every Zoom meeting; the way you tilt your head when you’re focused, the way your eyes spark when you’re about to destroy someone in a meeting. I memorized the shape of your smile through a webcam. I’d log off and still think about you.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

He continued.

“But it wasn’t until I saw you today—scented you that it hit. That this… this fucking fire in my chest… this hunger? It’s the bond. You’re my mate.”

You blinked at him, lips parting. “Mate… as in, bonded?”

He nodded, jaw tight. “I should’ve known. The bond doesn’t form through fucking webcams. But the second you walked in that conference room, I sensed it. Smelled it. Magic sank its teeth in me and said you’re mine.”

His nostrils flared. Fingers twitched like they were aching to touch.

You didn’t back away. You stepped into his space.

“I too, thought I was… obsessed with you,” you confessed, eyes settled on his. “Like… I couldn’t stop thinking about you. The way you laughed. The sound of your voice saying ‘good morning’ on a Monday call. I scheduled those meetings early just so I’d hear you first thing in the week.”

That cracked a little laugh out of him. “You liked me?”

“For years.” You smiled. “You were my world, my handsome chaos, and I loved it. I loved you. I just never thought…”

His hands were on your face in an instant, forehead touching yours.

“You’re mine,” he rasped. “But only if you want it.”

“I want it. I want you. I always have.”

Tyl groaned like it gutted him. “Fuck, I’m going to lose my mind over you. You say that and expect me to behave? I want to rip the damn hotel apart. Lock the doors. Make you mine until the bond sings in your bones. Hide you from every other bastard in that building who even glanced at you today.”

“You’re not the only one losing their mind,” you admitted. “I want to feel it too. The bond. The magic. You.”

In a blink, you were cradled into his arms, grinding your bodies together. You gasped, greedily clinging to him, your curves melting against the heat of his chest. His cock pressed form against your belly, so big you could feel the pulse of it even through his pants. You moaned softly, clutching his shirt for dear life.

“Gods, you don’t get it… How could you? For three fucking years I watched you smile at coworkers who didn’t deserve it. I hated every moment you talked or gave attention to anyone else.”

“But it was you I ever wanted,” you reminded him sweetly.

“Hmm, it all makes sense now. You were never supposed to belong to anyone but me. I want to mark you, keep you, ruin you for anyone else.”

That did it. Your patience snapped.

You surged up with a growl, hungry for him. Your mouth crashed into his. He met you halfway, kissing you like a man starved for years. He was starved. Your lips collided, your tongues tangled, your moans vanishing into his mouth.

It was a feral, claiming kiss, one that stole oxygen and sanity.

Strong hands pulled you close, chest to chest, soul to soul as he devoured you.

The world tilted.

You hit the bed flat on your back. Your gasp was swallowed by his mouth. Tyl was on you, looming, pressing down. All sleek muscles and restrained fae power grinding into you. He pinned your wrists above your head with one hand, and damn, the weight of him felt so good.

You felt his magic moving like liquid smoke. Soft and silken it danced over your body, winding around your wrists where he held them, then tightening. The shadows bound you to the headboard with a low hum, and you gasped as the bond pulsed between you like a second heartbeat.

“You feel that?” he whispered, dragging his tongue down your sternum as he unbuttoned your shirt. “My magic knows you’re mine. And it likes it.”

“Tyl… yes...” you tried to say more, but it came out as a moan.

“I’ve wanted to touch you for so fucking long,” he said as his fingers made quick work of your shirt. “Every Monday, every fucking time, you’d talk sweet and innocent while my cock throbbed under the desk. You drove me crazy. And now? You’re mine.”

Your shirt was gone. Your bra, too. You barely noticed how until his mouth sealed over your nipple, in hot and hungry suction, while his hand tormented the other with pinches and strokes that had you arching off the bed.

The shadows binding you flexed tighter, reacting to every moan, every squirm. Magic curled across your skin like lightning.

And on the walls behind him, illusions appeared. Images of you, naked and flushed, bent over the conference table. Then another one. Straddling his lap, your thighs spread wide. More. On your knees with your mouth stretched wide around his cock. Your face streaked with his cum.

Visions from his mind. His fantasies.

“You’re showing me what you’ve imagined, what you crave.”

He smirked, tongue dipping into your navel. “Just the tamer ones.”

Strong fingers traced down your legs, parting them. Your pants and underwear were gone before you realized and he was kneeling between your legs like a worshiper before a goddess. Warm breath caressed your skin just before his lips pressed to your inner thigh.

“Three fucking years…” he murmured, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive flesh. “Three years imagining how you’d taste, how you’d sound… And now I finally get to find out.”

You whimpered, hips twitching. “Hmmm… yes... Tyl—”

“Say my name,” he growled, lips brushing right near your center.

“Tyl.”

“Again.”

“Fuck—Tyl, please—”

The shadows in the room shifted. They slithered down, ribbons of magic wrapping your waist, curling around your thighs and drawling them back. Opening you wide, holding you still.

And then he was there.

The first swipe of his tongue was slow. Testing. Patient.

The second? Devastating.

Wrists straining against his magic, you writhed with happy moans, the shadows tightening just enough to keep you from thrashing. Held you suspended under the skilled kisses of his mouth. He licked you with long, greedy strokes, lapping up your slick like it was nectar.

Then his teeth added to the game, grazing your mound ever so softly. You sobbed when he pressed two thick fingers inside you, curling them just so while flattening his palm against your lower belly.

You came undone, back arching as the shadows thrummed around your wrists. The orgasm was like magic exploding inside your spine, waves crashing over you in pulsing, breathless jolts. You’d never experienced something like that.

Tyl gave you no time to recover and dove back in. His mouth was too skilled, too hungry. His fingers were perfect, stretching you, moving like they already knew you, like your body had already whispered its secrets. He didn’t stop until your legs trembled. Didn’t pull away until you whimpered his name in a second climax.

“You’re perfect,” he rasped, licking his slick lips. “So damn sweet. Made for my mouth.”

And then he stood. Long enough to strip, clothes tossed aside with zero care and you saw. Not just the length of him, thick, flushed, leaking and aching, but the way his magic coiled along his sculpted body. Hungry. Possessive. Wild.

You stared. Shit. He was big. The kind of big that made you bite your lip. Could you even take him?

He saw your look and grinned like a devil. “Oh, you’ll take every inch of me, sweetheart. Gonna stretch you good, go so deep you’ll feel me for days.”

He crawled closer, his form blocking out the room.

His cock nudged your entrance, the bulbous tip playing with your moist folds.

“Tyl…”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I want to feel it. All of it. The bond. Your magic. You.”

He groaned, deep and guttural. “I won’t stop until you’re full of me.”

“Yes, please. Gods, yes—hnn…"

He pushed in.

The broad head of his shaft breached your entrance, thick and unbelievably hot. The stretch was sharp and sweet all at once, and you moaned softly beneath him. He fondled your hips and the shadows tightened around your wrists as your walls made way for him, inch by glorious inch.

Tyl hissed. “You’re so tight… fuck… you are mine. Look how perfect you take me. You were made for me.”

You did look. The view was beautifully obscene. Watched your folds stretch around his shaft, saw how wet you were, juices coating him, frothing. He pulled out just enough to drive in deeper with a snap of his hips, forcing another inch inside.

Gentle thrusts. Filling you. Claiming you. Until he was seated to the hilt.

All of him.

Every veined, glorious twitching inch, buried in your heat.

The shadows pulsed in acceptance, in time with your heart.

The bond snapped into place like fire and silk lacing your soul to his.

Every thrust after that sent pleasure spiraling higher and higher. More illusions burst behind him. One had you on your hands and knees, another with your thighs wrapped around his waist, your body limp, thighs sticky, your mouth open on a silent scream.

“Tyl… Tyl! Ahgh...I’m close...”

“Let go, sweetheart. Let that perfect cunt milk me.”

Legs locked around him, you came again, harder this time. Your pleasure felt like magic detonating under your skin. Your walls convulsed around his girth. You screamed his name. The shadows surged, locking you in a perfect arch, body shaking as he bottomed out and followed, flooding your depths. His nose tucked into your breasts, his voice breaking against your tender nipples, your name falling like a prayer.

When you finally blinked back to reality, your wrists were released. Tyl leaned over you, breathless and proud. His glasses were crooked. You giggled, pulling them off as you kissed his sexy mouth. He growled and responded fervently, his cock still hard inside you, throbbing.

He’d just released and he was still hard, still eager.

Fae stamina, you realized, was no joke. Lucky you!

You rolled over, wiggled your ass at him with a smirk. “You sure you can keep up, baby?”

He growled, lightly smacked one smooth cheek. “You just asked for it.”

You were already moaning as he drove into you from behind, your face pressing into the pillows. His pace was fluid, his thrusts relentless. In no time, yet another orgasm chased your heels. You came with a cry and he followed moments later, stuffing you again.

And again, he was still hard.

Still playfully, you turned and pushed him onto his back, commanding his shadows to surround his wrists this time. Surprisingly, they obeyed you. And he let you take control. Let you kneel between his thighs and worship him.

Rubbing his trembling thighs and bobbing your head up and down his rigid shaft. You licked the beads of precum and your own moisture around him. Suckling the weeping tip like a lollipop. Swallowing him inch by inch, your hands fondling his swollen balls. He gasped, muscles twitching, shadows trembling.

Eventually, he lost all semblance of control and broke free of the restraints. He dragged you up to straddle him and slammed into you in one perfect thrust, making you mewl. You rode him hard, his hands full of your tits, flicking your nipples, driving you higher.

“Tyl… harder, please!”

He groaned. “That’s it, mate. Beg for it. Gods, I love you like this.”

The headboard slammed against the wall when he snapped his hips faster, using his grip on your tits to pull you deeper into the rhythm.

“Come again,” he gritted out. “I’m so close. Wanna feel you squeeze me while I fill you again. Remind you who you belong to.”

“I’m there... hnnn… ’m yours,” you gasped. “Won’t ever forget.”

That was it.

You both broke.

You fell apart sobbing his name, your walls clenching around him in pulsing waves. He followed immediately, roaring into your tits as he spilled once more, flooding you with another load. You could feel every twitch, every spurt, you were lost in him, the bond singing between you.

“You’re mine,” you whispered, happy, satisfied, boneless.

You knew better than to wander after sunset. Everyone said the woods weren’t safe once the last light bled out of the sky. You thought it was just superstition. A story meant to keep children from straying too far.

But when the forest goes still around you—no crickets, no wind, not even the rustle of leaves—you understand the truth. And by then, it’s already too late.

He steps out from between the trees like he was always there, waiting. Too tall, too beautiful, wrong in a way that makes your stomach drop, smile cutting through the dark like a knife.

“There you are.”

The words are a caress and a command all at once, slipping straight beneath your skin. You try to run, but the ground betrays you, roots writhe like serpents, twisting up your ankles, sinking into your skin until you can’t move. You fight, you kick, but it only makes the bindings bite deeper.

He’s in front of you before you can draw a breath, fingers closing around your jaw with cold precision. Not cruel, not yet. Just claiming.

“I warned them to keep you from me,” he murmurs, voice threaded with amusement, with hunger. His eyes glitter with inhuman light, fixed on your face as though he’s memorizing every flicker of fear. “But you were curious. And curiosity, little mortal, is the doorway I walk through.”

The world wrenches sideways when he pulls you close. Shadows close over the trees, swallowing them whole until you’re standing somewhere else entirely. Stone halls, endless, dripping with candlelight that doesn’t burn. The air tastes too sweet, too thick, and your lungs rebel, desperate for clean air you’ll never breathe again.

The roots release you only to let his hand take their place. He slides his grip down to your wrist, holding you with terrifying ease. Like he’s not restraining you at all, just letting you understand you’ll never be strong enough to pull away.

“Struggle for me,” he says, tilting his head as if this is entertainment. “Fight if you want. It will not save you, but it will please me to watch.”

You open your mouth to scream, and his smile blooms sharp, delighted, terrible.

“Yes,” he purrs. “Sing for me. No one else will ever hear you again.”

The world goes dark, your stomach dropping with a sickening lurch, his clandestine laughter echoing in your skull as you lose consciousness and when you wake… 

It’s a beautiful room, high arching stained glass windows, the light filtering through in jeweled bars to where you have been shackled to an ornate bed, legs spread wide on the stone floor with arms pulled taught in front of you. There is no room for movement, no room for struggle. And that sticky laughter curls around you again, long fingers teasing along the bare curve of your ass.

“You don’t know how long I have waited for you to finally come to me,” he murmurs. “The time I have spent trying to lure you deeper, little gem.”

His fingers trace idle shapes over your skin, too cool for warmth but leaving a burning path in their wake anyway. The shackles bite into your wrists as you instinctively try to pull away, the metal creaking but never giving. Every movement only pulls you tighter, exposing you, arching you.

“Look at you,” he croons, voice a low, velvet rasp. “All the warnings, all the prayers, and still you wandered right into my arms.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, twisting against the chains. It’s useless. The cuffs are carved from something older than iron, something that thrums with his magic. And worse, the air itself seems to thicken the longer he touches you, perfumed and heady, sinking under your skin until your thoughts are slow, blurred.

A sound escapes you, a whimper you didn’t mean to make.

“Ah…” His hand slides lower, spanning your hip, fingers brushing the inside of your thigh. “Already trembling.” The pads of his fingers glow faintly, and where they touch you, the same traitorous heat from the forest blooms again, coiling deep in your belly.

You jerk, a choked noise in your throat. “Stop-”

He leans close enough that his hair ghosts your shoulder, his lips just shy of your ear. “I told you to struggle,” he whispers. “I told you it pleases me. But your body… your body is honest.”

The heat spreads with each word. Your nipples tighten, thighs slick with a need that isn’t yours, can’t be yours. You shake your head desperately, tugging at the chains until they cut into your wrists. The scent of moss and flowers is overwhelming now, like a garden left to rot.

He laughs, low and satisfied, and draws one cool fingertip along the seam of your cunt, not quite touching, just tracing circles in the air. The magic follows, a phantom caress that makes you gasp and arch despite yourself.

“Sweet little gem,” he murmurs. “I don’t have to touch you to make you bloom. I only have to ask.”

The phantom touch grows firmer, stroking, circling, until your hips start to rock against it without permission. Tears sting your eyes. You hate it. You hate how good it feels, how your own body betrays you, how the chains rattle with every shuddering breath.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he says, his mouth at your ear again, voice silk over steel. “Tell me, and I will stop. Lie to me, little mortal. I dare you.”

Another wave of unwanted pleasure rolls through you, your muscles quivering, and the sound that tears from your throat isn’t a scream this time but a broken, desperate moan. His laughter curls around you again, triumphant.

“That’s right,” he purrs, pressing a cold palm to your stomach as the magic works you harder. “Sing for me. Fight if you like. In the end you’ll still open for me. It’s what you were made for.”

His palm stays on your stomach, cool and possessive, while the phantom fingers keep working between your thighs. You’re shaking now, hips jerking in tiny, involuntary rolls against the invisible touch. Each movement makes the shackles creak, makes your wrists bite, makes you more aware of how completely you’re pinned.

The fae bends over you, hair brushing your cheek, the scent of him filling your lungs like incense. “I warned you,” he murmurs, and his voice vibrates right down your spine. “Every breath you take in my wood binds you tighter. Every shudder makes you mine.”

The phantom touch presses in, two fingers of pure magic sliding into you, curling, stroking until your knees threaten to buckle. You moan, broken and breathless, and he drinks it in like wine. “That’s it. That’s the sound,” he says softly, almost reverent. “Now open for me.”

He flicks his wrist and the phantom fingers vanish, only for his real hand to replace them. His cool skin drags over your slick heat, thumb circling your clit once, twice, making you jolt. Before you can plead, he presses the head of his cock against you, not human-warm but velvet and cool as riverstone, still thrumming with the same magic that’s been burning you from within.

“No…” you whisper, but the word breaks apart as the invisible pressure inside you surges again, forcing another climax to crest just as he begins to push in. The double assault makes you gasp, arching back against the chains, every muscle trembling.

He slides deeper by inch by tortuous inch, his lips at your ear. “Feel how you take me,” he hisses, voice gone ragged now. “Your body knows before your mind will admit it.”

You’re sobbing now, from overstimulation, from the invasion, from fear, from the way your own muscles clutch at him without permission. The magic doesn’t stop. It keeps working you, stroking every nerve, coaxing every spasm and contraction until you can’t tell where his spell ends and your body begins.

“That’s it,” he croons. “Come until you forget your name.”

The next wave breaks and you convulse around him, clenching tight as he drives the last of himself in with a groan that sounds more animal than man. His fingers dig into your hip, holding you in place while your body shakes, helpless and undone, every breath a sob or a moan.

He doesn’t give you time to recover. He draws back and thrusts again, slow and inexorable, each stroke wringing another broken sound from your throat. His magic coils around you like a net, tightening with each movement, dragging you toward another edge before you’ve even fallen from the last.

“Struggle,” he whispers, almost tender. “But know that you will break before I do.”

And still he moves, cool and relentless, until your body is slick with sweat and your wrists ache in their cuffs and the only thing you can do is arch and sob and come, again and again, while he fills you and whispers your surrender into your ear.

“It was almost too easy to take you,” he growls, his thrusts long and languid, almost unhurried. “And I knew you would be so sweet for me. Little humans are always so soft. So warm.”

Each slide of his hips is a drag of ice and fire, a slow filling that leaves you gasping. His magic coils tighter with every movement, invisible fingers teasing where his cock isn’t, stroking you open even as he claims you. You can feel the glow of it on your skin now, crawling like vines, seeping into your chest, down your thighs, wrapping your heart in invisible threads.

You want to fight, to twist away, but he’s everywhere, his palm on your throat, his nails digging into your skin, his voice pouring into your ear like dark honey. The room smells of him, moss and iron and blooming flowers, until you can taste it on your tongue.

He grinds in deeper, hips rolling, and the invisible caress around your clit turns ruthless. Your body arches despite yourself, a strangled cry spilling from your lips.

“Such a fragile thing,” he murmurs, biting at your shoulder, his teeth just shy of breaking skin. “Yet your body can take me. Can crave me. This is what you’re for.”

The words hit you as hard as the magic does, a pulse that ripples through your belly and down to where you’re stretched around him. He doesn’t speed up, he doesn’t need to. His magic is already pulling you apart, coaxing your body to squeeze and flutter around him, each little tremor drawing a low, satisfied sound from his throat.

“Come again,” he orders softly. His thumb finds your mouth, pressing past your lips, and his other hand slides down to your hip, holding you steady. “Come while I’m inside you. Do it now.”

You shake your head, a sob catching in your throat, but the next roll of his hips pushes right against the spot his magic has been stroking, and your back bows. The pleasure hits like a breaking wave, violent and blinding, your body clenching hard around him as you cry out.

“That’s it,” he purrs, the words shaking with a low growl. “So sweet. So obedient.”

He pulls out just far enough to thrust back in, a deep, slow push that makes you whimper, still twitching from the last climax. His magic doesn’t stop, it pulses with him, building you again, making your muscles quiver.

“I’ll make you come until you can’t even remember what you begged for,” he whispers against your ear. Another thrust. Another shudder. His thumb brushes your clit and you jerk like you’ve been shocked. “And then I’ll fill you until the only thing left inside you is me.”

His pace stays languid but relentless, each stroke dragging out a sound you didn’t know you could make. Your legs shake where they’re spread wide, the shackles rattling faintly with every helpless jerk. His cool breath ghosts over your neck as he murmurs, low and pleased, “Yes. Break for me, little mortal. Break and bloom.”

His rhythm changes. Just slightly at first, the long, languid strokes turning sharper, deeper, a hint of impatience threading through the silk of his control. His breath comes rougher against your throat, and the vines of magic coiled around your body tighten as if they, too, are straining toward something inevitable.

“You feel that?” he growls, voice lower, ragged in a way that makes your stomach twist. “How your body grips me… pulls at me… begging without a word.”

Each thrust now drives harder, hips colliding with yours, the ornate bed beneath you creaking in protest. The phantom touch doesn’t ease, it keeps tormenting your clit, stroking in cruel rhythm with his thrusts, every pass wrenching another sob or cry from your throat.

His hand leaves your hip to tangle in your hair, dragging your head back until your throat is bared, his lips brushing over your pulse. “I could take you forever,” he snarls, teeth grazing your skin. “But I want to feel you break around me as I spill into you.”

He slams deeper, a guttural sound tearing from him, no longer smooth or elegant but raw, feral. The cool velvet of his cock stretches you to the limit, and his magic surges in tandem, pressing you to the edge whether you want it or not.

Your body obeys before your mind can protest, another climax wracks you, shuddering and violent, clenching around him so tightly he groans against your throat. His thrusts grow desperate now, hips snapping, his composure unraveling as he chases his own end.

“Mine,” he snarls, teeth sinking into the curve of your neck at last. Pain flares, sharp and white, mingling with the relentless heat of pleasure as he drives in to the hilt and holds there, grinding deep. The magic coils, snapping tight, and you feel it, the sudden spill of his release, icy and searing all at once, flooding you with something too much like possession to be only physical.

He stays pressed against you, cock buried, chest heaving against your back, his laughter broken now, ragged with triumph. The shackles hum, vibrating with his magic, and the vines caress your trembling skin as though sealing you into him, tying you tighter with every pulse.

When he finally lifts his head, lips glistening with your blood, his smile is sharp enough to cut. “There,” he whispers, still inside you, still throbbing. “Now you’re not just mine in body, but in soul.”

“W-what did you do? Who are you?” You ask breathlessly, wanting nothing more than to take this strange fairy suffocate him with your pussy.

The fairy looks at you in shock over your reaction, having no idea what went wrong. You’re not shrinking at all! He looks down at his hand and only now notices he sprayed you with the aphrodisiac mist instead of the shrinking mist! His cheeks burn red from embarrassment.

“I-I was hired to prank you with a shrinking mist but it seems as though they got mixed up,” he explains bashfully, showing you the bottle.

You internally curse your friend for hiring such a dumb fairy but also god do you wish he was here to take care of you. Your eyes fall back on the fairy… the incredibly sexy fairy. Fuck, you just needed something to ease the fire burning hot inside you and soaking your panties.

“Well you caused this so you need to take care of it. Now!” You say with a huff.

You lay in the bed of flowers, throwing your robes off recklessly. Not caring about anything other than this fairy getting you off. The fairy looks down at you in awe, all his recent fantasies coming true. He wonders if he subconsciously did this on purpose just so he could fuck you, but he wouldn’t think about that right now. Not when you need him so badly.

The fairy’s wings flutter and he’s flying down on top of you before you can change your mind. Not that you would with your need so unbearable. He lands on your soft belly and he could just melt into you, your skin is so warm and lovely. You hiss the moment he touches you, you’re so sensitive you could cum just from his little body grinding onto you.

Using his strength he picks up your breast and opens his mouth wide to suck on your hard nipples just as he imagined. You moan loudly, hips jerking in the air. The little fairy holds on tight and sucks greedily on the bud, basking in the way you writhe against the grass.

“P-please! I need more,” you beg, your mind lost to the lust that rages through you.

The fairy releases your nipple with a loud pop. He flies down to your glistening cunt, your folds all lovely and wet and waiting for him. His cock tents in his small pants, getting harder and harder the longer he touches you. Using his body he spreads your fat lips and you moan, trying to rock closer to him. He cries out, holding onto you so he doesn’t fall off.

With a bit of his own magic he commands vines close by to wrap around your arms and legs, tying you firmly you to the ground. You gasp and squirm against them, their rough caress only turning you on even more.

The fairy pulls down his pants and lines his aching cock up against your clit. He grinds into you and you both release long ragged moans. His own mind begins to cloud over and all he can focus on is giving you both the pleasure you need so bad.

Your body twitches and shakes with deep pressure of the fairy’s cock rubbing your clit so nicely. You can feel his hips snap against your core, short grunts leave you every time his balls slap against your over sensitive clit. The vines stopping you from moving with him or moving away from the unrelenting pleasure.

Yet you still have a deep rooted need to be filled to the brim and you throw your head back, the fire inside you only getting hotter without your release. Sensing what you need, the fairy uses more of his magic and a second later you jump as long thick vines slide deep inside your hot wet cunt.

The fairy and his vines work in tandem to bring you higher and higher. The fairy digs his fingers into your wide waist and ruts into you like a madman, wildly desperate to feel you come undone because of him. All while his vines plunge deep into your depths, brushing along your gummy walls and hitting you just right.

You cum with a fierce scream that echoes throughout the meadow. The fairy releases soon after you, his hot cum jolting outward and spraying all over your delicious belly.

The fairy sags against you, completely spent. The two of you lay there, your limbs still tied to the ground as you both shake with the force of your release. You can feel the heat inside you start to settle a little yet it’s still there, just waiting to ignite.

The sudden sound of a branch snapping in the distance has your head jerking up in surprise. You come face-to-face with your elf friend, a smug smirk on his lips. He crosses his arms and leans against a nearby tree. Looking up and down your plump form you can see his own eyes cloud over with lust.