Flowers and Fey (Closed for WeaverofWorlds)

[WeaverofWorlds]

Her questions brought a torrent of possibilities and thoughts to the ancient fairy. Another teasing bargain was at the tip of his tongue, but it was easily dismissed, for she was hardly in any frame of mind for that. Or perhaps she was in the greatest frame of mind. Something of a dealer's choice, as it was to his liking. But no, he'd not press for some exchange, not when such an exchange was already happening. Rather, his mind turned itself with how to accomplish what she asked, for it was not a question of if he would, but how. Magic of course, a twisting of the Here and There, would let his fingers slip between her legs, brush the lips of her sex, without him even having to move. Or there was the mundanity of what mortal minds called "sixty-nine". Interesting, but hardly of interest to him. Decided then, it that moment between moments, that she'd gifted him the entirety of her attention.

A gift for a gift.

It required a shifting of his body and hers, both slipping down the bed until he was seated at its edge and she was standing between his legs. Though he wouldn't admit it, there might indeed have been a twisting of Here and There, Her and Him, enough only to have things end where he wished them be. A fraction of a moment an errant thought, would young Anemone notice the fey workings, before his attention snapped once more to she before him. She'd pressed lips and tongue against his stomach, in a mimicry of the event his own found the copper brown of her, tasting of what she was and is. It tasted of many things, of sweat and soap, of toil and nerves, mortality and beautiful impermanence. His eyes flickered upwards now, to where her own might be gazing down from her perspective above seeking not approval or disapproval, but merely her attention. He could mimic her further, let his lips and tongue travel downward, but fey whimsy wouldn't have that.

She'd asked him to touch, not to taste. Not yet anyway.

His fingers found the backs of her legs, whispered trails along the soft skin of her knees and thighs as they quested upwards. He felt the flesh of her ass, followed the swell, let fingers squeeze them gently, felt the radiating heat, the slight firmness against his palm. A pause, another press of his lips, against her belly button this time, the tip of a tongue tasting skin once more. Then fingers followed the line where leg met torso, slid without hesitation to the curls of hair and the wetness between her legs. A flicker of delight and amusement, naked within the silver of his eyes as he gazed up at her, even as mirthful teasing slipped into his words.

"Is this what you'd like me to check, dear Nem? Such a naughty young lady, and only your second time... whatever would people think?"

His seeking fingers did not ghost over her, rather they explored eagerly, her lust coating his fingers in mere moments. All the more eager when he found her entrance, where pressure gave enough to suggest what lay beyond. He could have asked her permission, he supposed, but they were long past such things. Instead he slid a single finger into her depths, the slickness of it making the act all the easier, as silver eyes watched her for the slightest hint of her reaction, the subtleties of her body telling the story of her delight or, the Green forbid it, displeasure. But even that wouldn't stop him from teasing in the moment, for how could a fey such as he help himself?

"And all this from merely tasting a man, it makes one wonder what would happen if a man tasted you..."

 

[Apollo Wilde]

She knew that she was staying in one place; that she hadn’t physically moved. Somehow, the world felt a bit different - the ground was slipping away, tilting this way. Not so much as to be disorienting, but like she was the one laying on the bed and he was above her. A shake of her head, squeezing her eyelids tightly shut to figure things out. She was herself, and he was himself, magic, yes, but tangible under her fingers. They were bound together through the magic that flowed through the both of them, but still, she was her. Daughter of the Green, Anemone Hulce, who had summoned this Fey, given him her first kiss, her virginity, and needed his help -



And what was she doing? Was this wasting time? How did she even get into this predicament again? A flicker of annoyance; she was wasting time. He wouldn’t have the same sense of urgency, because of course he wouldn’t - nothing was at stake for him. And time passed much much differently for him.



No, this is about gathering power. About learning more about the Green, and how to save it. Maybe a bit more about myself -



Thoughts were cut off as his finger slipped easily inside of her. Strange, but not unwelcome, for she was more than wet enough to take him, a much finer point than his cock. She squirmed a bit, a sound coming from her that was caught between sigh and gasp, surprise and longing. Wiggling of her hips became more pronounced as she shifted, coyly (but failing) to want to take more in; something thicker, that would stretch her and provide her with more stimulation. She still had her pride, and wasn’t about to ask. Not yet. Especially, when she opened her eyes and saw the expression on his face - playful. Not smug - though it wouldn’t be a far trip, she imagined, for his face to reflect that -, but playful. That she could live with - and the tension in her shoulders that she wasn’t aware had started to build up eased off.



There was much to learn here, even without the chorus and chatter of the Green around her, voices that she brushed off, not out of annoyance (well maybe a bit of that), but of a need to focus more fully on where she was and what she was doing, what her body was feeling. What she needed. More of him, more of his touch; things she breathed out with the warmth of her lips, her breath, as she knelt from her standing position and turned her attention to his inner thighs, ignoring the pillar of his cock. Even if she wanted to stop what she was doing and bury him inside of her by straddling him, she couldn’t give into that. Not just yet. Not when there was more of his beauty to take in. From her new vantage point, she ran her hands over his inner thighs, across the tops, before gripping the sides as she slid closer to him - so close that she did end up placing a small kiss against the side of his cock.



Using his thighs as a balancing point, she stood up again, still between his legs, looking at him - seeking guidance, a quiet what now, that she couldn’t bring herself to actually ask.

 

[WeaverofWorlds]

His eyes watched her every reaction, noted the tiny shifts in her body, the subtle sighs that slipped past her lips. He felt the wiggle of her hips, the sort that seemed to seek something more, and felt too her muscles relax, as if she'd let something she'd been holding in go. A good thing or a bad, he would admit he wasn't entirely sure, but either way it mattered little as she moved one more, his finger slipping from her as she knelt beyond his reach. She was exploring again, his eyes mirthful at the realization that she was, perhaps, just a little more enamored of exploring him than she was of the acts and pleasures to come. He hadn't decided if he found that more amusing or annoying, or maybe a both twisted together. Her hands slid along the skin of his thighs, touching, feelings, exploring more of him. A slight tremble, as her lips brushed his length and the feel of her breath ghosted across him, and then she was standing again, gazing down at him with a look in her eyes, seeking something more.

what now

It was an errant thought, one that came from somewhere not him. If he'd a spare moment, he might have lingered on it, where it came from and from whom. But as it stood, he'd little interest in that, his want and whimsy sending his attention to far more pressing concerns, though the thought was quite applicable to the current circumstances. What now, indeed. So many possibilities, some more appealing than others. He could drag her onto him, continue beyond foreplay and teasing, but that didn't speak to him, not quite yet. No, she'd wanted touch, and despite only the barest traces of it, the feel of the heat and slickness between her legs dragged his attention to them once more. He had a question of his own that needed answering. Exploration involved more than just him and his skin, after all, without exploring herself how was she to know her own appetites?

A dip of his head and shoulders, hand grasping her body to both hold her still and upright, teasing her legs apart just enough to slip between them. It was an awkward position for some, but for the ever resourceful fey, and a touch of magic, it was easy enough to ignore. Rather than comment further, or even waste time asking permission, his lips found the slit of her womanhood, his tongue slipping free to taste the almost metallic tang of it, reveling in the mortal essence that flowed from her body's arousal. His eyes could not see her reactions, but every other sense was alert, eager for any sign from the Daughter of the Green.