Introduction to a fairy
My name’s Harlequin and I’m a fairy. Oh, not the kind you read about in Victorian children’s literature, although I do have wings as well as horns and claws, and there’s a certain amount of magic involved…
If you saw me in Alderley Edge, our nearest village, you’d probably take me for human provided I was wearing a hat of some kind and a shirt or jacket. I’m smallish but not unusually so and I can blend right in.
I look, in fact, exactly what I am: a young adult male. I’m slim, quite fit (that comes from living in a tree and riding a unicorn), quite pretty, according to lovers (of both genders), and invariably horny, in the common human usage of the word.
I speak English. British English, by the way. No American (or any other dialect) here! I speak some French and German as well but that’s a bit beside the point. I like the woods (especially The Edge, where I live), riding, travel, food, alcohol, and sex. See? Typical. I like music too, and moonlight . . .
Fairies do it flying.
. . . I’ve been a bit careful with dragons. I don’t want to lose my new unicorn hair armlet that Yarrow gave me. But the point is, if you stand up to them, they’re manageable after a fashion. All you’ve got to lose is your jewellery.
I talk to one online quite a lot. I sort of know her. Virtually. I’m not absolutely sure whether she’s a real dragon or whether she’s a human or something else pretending for a game or drama group but she seems to have a lot of knowledge.
The other day she was saying that dragons mate in flight. Which set Yarrow and I thinking. We have wings too. Neither of us had ever tried it before.
We stripped first. First time out/up/whatever, we didn’t think we’d manage that part on the wing. Trouble is, it attracted quite a crowd. Yarrow says I’m an exhibitionist. Well, but he must be, too. But fairies can’t blend and stay secret from other fairies very easily. And there’s nowhere to hide in the sky. So…
We unfurled our wings and Yarrow rose first. My beautiful, beautiful lover, pale gold wings glinting in the sun. He hovered over me, looking a little bit self-conscious, it must be said, and asked if I was going to stand around all day. So I went up to meet him.
We’re quite used to each other’s bodies by now, though it’s all still a thrill. But this was different. He glided down a little, to meet me, and held my hips. Our cocks were both erect, touching, and we could move nearer and further, exploring how much space we could leave and still have contact. Then he held me round the waist and kissed me. He wrapped me in his wings, ever so careful not to damage mine. We fell, of course, but only for a moment, as we were quite high by now. We recovered and circled, then fastened our lips together and started spinning. Over and over. Round and round. Lazily. Joyously.
Then he moved down and put his lips over my cock. And so I whirled and fastened my own mouth to his erection. And we continued to spin. I came first. I usually do. Yarrow has so much restraint, in sex, as in every area of his life. My seed spurted into his throat and he licked his lips and laughed. Then he pushed me onto my back.
I had to beat my wings really hard to stay the way he wanted me. Long slow beats. Like descriptions I’ve read of treading water, which fairies, of course, do not ever experience if they can help it. I lay there in the sky and parted my legs. And he used those almost-claw-strokes on my thighs to make me relax. Well, to make my anus relax. The rest of me was concentrating on staying up there.
A few gentle pushes with his fingers and then he slid inside. I was gasping. I was also terrified. My claws suddenly developed minds of their own and wanted to extend and clasp him. So I had to use lots of concentration to stop them. Neither of us is into S and M or any kinky sex, unless you count doing it in the air with an audience. And I would so hate to damage him.
So I was concentrating on flying and on keeping my claws in. He’s always so poised and graceful. He just carried on. Then he must have guessed how I was feeling because he put his hands under my buttocks and supported me and started whispering the way he whispers to Devil when they’re doing something difficult. Not words. Just comforting, encouraging sounds. He was still inside me, moving quite fast, and I felt him come, and he yelled something, a kind of victory cry, I think. And the glory of it brought tears to my eyes.
(We were told later that the unicorns had sensed what was happening. They’re very attuned to us. And at the moment of Yarrow’s climax, Devil mounted Araminta and she didn’t object. Heigh-ho, a foal in nine months or so? And I’ve no idea if Araminta is ready for motherhood.)
We were clinging together, exhausted and exhilarated by the flight as well as the sex. We spiralled down and made a perfect landing, holding hands, both upright, beside our clothes. At which point we felt it necessary to bow, and the whole crowd clapped.
It was extremely difficult. But it’s going to be fun practising.
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Jay Mountney is a writer who enjoys exploring themes including m/m romance, culture clash and coming of age, often through fantasy. She divides her time between northern England and central Portugal, reading voraciously in both locations.
Growing Up Fae is the first in the series Living Fae, by Jay Mountney.
This book, along with other by Jay,are available on Amazon
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