Fairy Stories: The Bench

When Dew Lilycome first snatched at her bottom, Isabelle Dazzlesparkle stopped in her tracks. It was a seductive summer night, and both of them were strolling on a path in the Enchanted Forest, but she didn’t expect the heavy groping…and when she felt it from behind, her form immediately froze and pushed back to his hand. Her honest reaction made him laugh. It felt like she had been expecting him to invade her personal space for a very long time, not only expecting, but even craving…When he grabbed her bottom so generously, her first reaction was to press against his hand innocently hoping for even more rubbing. So, since he was a genuine gentleman, Dew took her by the elbow and led her to a nearby bench which was hidden from witnesses and surrounded by rose bushes.

She straddled the bench and he sat right behind her and hugging her close.

Have you seen an excited fairy? Her dress straps fall by themselves, she leans against your fervent body and while you whisper in her ear your future intentions she tosses in your virile embrace, as if she has never heard anything that sounds like this.

The Elf of Kindness who seemed brilliant at guessing started discovering her  body impulses. It turned out he was great at massaging…he knew exactly how much force to apply to her back, so that it was not too rough to be called pleasure…Her form was simmering in his experienced hands. She was certain, she will later have no words to describe this to her friends, but Dew was incredible! She could have melted with desire when he started biting her exclusively sensitive neck and back. Those ardent kisses of love and mutual desire! She repeated his name in a daze and mixed it with words of adoration and words of passion, a cocktail of emotions, they both were intoxicated from each other’s proximity. He spoke words, which felt like tender strokes in her ear, then he bit the ear gently, smooching at its sea-shell form, while she was trying to make abrupt movements. He softly pressed his hand against her mouth to muffle the sounds of delight.

She took his hand and placed it between her legs on her own. He was teasing her by stroking gently all around the place she really wanted to be touched, and he did this for 20 long minutes…She had to wait…and she was silently begging him, by pressing against his embrace as hard as she could…emiting all kinds of signals, that she wants to be penetrated…and when he finally did it, she had to climax.

 “How have you learned how to do this? How do you know?” – she implored.

“I don’t know” – he replied, and she felt the most experienced man, she’d been with was virgin.  

Author: LadyF

I know that I can speak about writing until I annoy even the most patient person. It obviously is more than a passion to me. Dean Kansky said: "You know, the Greeks didn't write obituaries. They only asked one thing after a man died: "Did he have passion?"

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