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Summer in Anteronia can be a generally miserable time. After all, the loss of the natural flora to provide shade and the paving of the roads makes for the perfect spot for the unrelenting sunlight to blast its wrath upon the heat-retaining walls of the buildings.

The tall edifices block much of the breeze from the sea, so the cold air that actually brushes its way through the structures brings well-deserved relief to the people who live well into the interior.

In the esteemed halls of Anteronia University, students who choose to remain in their dormitories find the exams and essays nothing compared to the sweltering nightmare of their cramped living quarters.

One such student is Melia, lying on her bed, her covers flung this way and that, her night dress clinging to her body, semi-transparent through all the sweat. She rubs her hands over her earthen-toned eyes and sits up, her hair stuck to her brow.

Across from her, Libi, her roommate, stands peering out the open window, her upper body pushed out. This momentarily leaves the girl in bed to appreciate her companion and friend's full, feminine curves, a burning rising in her cheeks before she clears her throat.

“Good morning."

Libi pulls herself out of the window, fanning herself, and sits down. “Good morning to you, too," Libi says, plopping herself on her bed. Don't you have work today?"

Melia blinks and looks at the calendar, turning slightly pale. “Oh, bah! I didn't realize! Shoot, thanks, Libi!"

She hops up and peels out of her gown, Libi averting her eyes from her roommate's anatomy. She has a soft smile as she looks out toward the city, her city.

—

Work proves to be pretty much the same when it comes to beating the heat. The ovens that bake the delicious pastries at Baker's only serve to further cling salty sweat upon the workers' brows, and Melia, dressed in the pink dress and apron that is the woman's uniform, finds herself jostled and bothered as she stares at the racks of baked goods, melting in their spots.

“You look like shit."

She blinks and whirls around. Standing before her is a black cat dressed just like her.

“Oh, Adrian, yah…" she says. “This isn't any way to live, not especially for someone like me."

Adrian shrugs. Despite the heat, he's simply immaculate and nonplussed. “Ain't you humans built for different environments?"

Melia grumbles, grabbing an extra-warmed croissant for a customer. “I don't mean being human, she says.

“You're hard to read, you know that?" the feminine cat responds, resting on the back of the counter.

“But tell me, what would you do if you weren't here… if money were no object? Where would you go?"

She sighs, pushing her glasses up as they nearly fall off for the fifth time today.

“I'd rather be conducting my research," she admits. I'd rather not need the funding or the degrees to justify it."

“Carpe Diem, girl," says the cat boy. “You don't need someone's permission to do what you want."

She grips the counter top, her lip quivering. “Perhaps… perhaps I don't, but… it could be dangerous."

“Honey, what I do is dangerous," Adrian chuckles. You're just looking at flowers and talking to the trees."

“Something like that," she says, feeling a stirring in the pit of her tummy.

“Besides, your shift's done. You can go chase your dreams right now. I bet your boss would be fine with you taking a vacation, too."

“Maybe… maybe I should," she says, pulling off her apron. “Thanks."

“Us femmes have to stick together, don't we?" the cat asks, purring.

Melia stops, closes her eyes, and lets her glasses slip momentarily. “Yeah, you're right. We do."

No matter the heat in Anteronia, crime, and supernatural attacks are always a threat. As the sun bakes the streets, a figure takes to the air, fluttering through the sky, scintillating wings spread and sprinkling powder over the heat-stricken people.

The citizenry slumps over in a sleep, cuddling up to one another as the flying force lands upon a lamp. She's a graceful figure with long, slender legs and an articulate dancer's pose. The woman standing on her tiptoes wears only a sky blue dress that wraps tightly around her lithe body, and antennae poke out from her forehead, giving her an almost insect-like appearance.

“Oh, people of this artificial city," she proclaims in her wispy voice, balancing on one toe and swirling her arms in a hypnotic pattern. “You have lived far too long, overshadowing nature. Do not resist nature's call, and be like the others to return to the old ways."

Some of the powdered people turned to watch this woman and stagger toward her. Their eyes are hazy with magical hypnosis conjured by this faerie woman.

“Come to me, my chosen ones," the fey says, opening her arms to them all, “This heat is unnatural. This world is crumbling around you. Come to my embrace, and we shall traverse the forest together!"

From the throng of enraptured followers, a streak of pink pushes past, leaping from the sidewalk and right up to the woman's grasp. The magical girl Purity wraps her gloved arms around the dancing fairy, tackling her off her perch and diving the two of them to the grass behind them.

The fairy lies on the ground, stunned and groaning, while Purity picks herself up, smirking. “Hey, what's all this, then?" asks the Magical Girl. “I thought you were a monster, but you're just a villain!" She punctuates this by gripping the woman's antenna and pulling.

It pops right off, and the woman who owns it gasps, grasping her forehead. “You blasted girl! How dare you thwart my righteous plans?"

“Uh, huh, righteous, right." The magical girl says, poking her own cheek and giving the villain a wink. “Just how is using a mind control potion in a powdered form righteous? Wanna tell me how you got that or wanna save it for the judicators?"

As if in the queue, the guards arrive, dressed in heavy uniforms and their faces covered to prevent them from witnessing sinful distractions in the city of sin. They surround the two, their large man-catchers at the ready.

“Magical Girl Purity," says their leader, a brawny man with his eyes covered and wielding a big toothy grin. “We've caught you at last. Your days of indecency are numbered."

“What? Me!? But she's the one who was disrupting the peace here!"

The villain snickers, a sly sneer marring her delicate features. “Oh, officers, it's so horrible! This ruffian initiated unwelcome physical contact with me!"

“That's all I needed to hear!" the judicator says, thrusting his man-catcher forward at the magical girl.

Purity raises her arms, forming her iconic heart shield in the polearm's path. This deflects the blow, allowing her time to roll off the super villain and evade another man-catcher coming at her from behind.

Purity grunts and hops up, pushing her hands downward, generating a heart-shaped bubble that leaps her up into the air. One of the pursuing guards rushes for it, slamming it with his polearm, only to be sucked into its realm.

The energy from the expansion sends the magical girl flying over the circle of guards, landing gracefully on her boots. “See ya!" She shouts, turning on her toe and rushing off into the crowd.

“Haha, that's right, you'd better run, you pink pest. Run like the fugitive that you ar-urk!" The fairy woman's boasts and taunts are caught short with the man-catcher clamped around her throat

“That's quite enough out of you, you no-good-doer!" Says the leader of the judicators. “You will need to pay for your crimes as well, just like she will have to pay, sooner or later!"

Purity disappears, and on the other side of the gathering crowd emerges Libi. She sighs and straightens out her short hair before she heads past the park and back towards Baker's Bakery.

A handful of workers are peering out of the doorway, including two bee girls and Adrian.

“Damn, girl, you ran in through all that?" asks the cat boy. “You've got bigger balls than me."

Libi rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well, I'm just here to meet with Melia. We gotta study tonight."

“Oooh, sorry, Libi, you just missed her!" chirps one of the bees.

“She clocked out right as we clocked in!" adds the second.

“Oh damn, did she get mixed up with the stuff at the park?" Libi wonders, turning back to face the crowd that slowly dissipates.

“Dunno, but she was acting weird, and I don't mean summer heat weird," adds Adrian.

Libi bites her lip, a pang rising up from her chest. As she clutches it, Adrian places a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?"

“I'm just… worried about Mel, is all.

Standing at the forest's edge, Purity picks up the discarded garments tossed aside by at least a half-dozen people. They are mostly the workers' overalls, hats, trousers, and flannel. But among them are the discarded garments of a worker at Baker's. She grips onto these and turns toward the forest's entrance. “Well, guess this is the place," she says, dropping the dress and proceeding into the depths.

Whatever she would face within, she would do it—consequences be damned.

But as she enters the forest, she feels the oppressive heat become much more demanding, weighing her down, sweatband beading at her brow. She lurches forward, her movement slowed, whether it be from the atmosphere or the underbrush at her boot. Her coat catches onto branches and thorns, but she doesn't let that bother her. Soon, though, she can hear something—the distant piping of flutes, the twanging of strings, and the bristling of bangles. There's a party—so deep into the forest?

When she steps toward the sounds, she soon trips on something, tumbling forward and crashing the pot onto the forest's soil.

“Dammit," Purity curses, tugging away from whatever she's tangled up in, but she pops out of her boot, eating dirt.

“Ptew, blch!" She rolls around, surveying her situation, only to gasp when she sees a well-built orcish woman naked and slumbering away, wrapping her brawny arms around the boot. By her side is a fuzzy rabbit boy nuzzling up against her.

Purity hops to her knees and reaches out for her boot, but that's when a light passes by her eye. She glances over to find it, but the light buzzes by her ear.

Squealing, she falls back, and for a moment, she can swear she sees the small figure within the ball of light before her before it flutters away.

The heat is like a blanket over her as her head rests on the orc's impeccable abs, her hands nestled onto her tummy. “Well, I… I guess this isn't so bad?" The magical girl thinks to herself, yawning, her eyes growing heavier and heavier.

As she begins to close her eyes, she can make out a figure looming over her, lithe, naked, and handsome. It crawls to her and strokes her cheek.

She giggles as it leans in and kisses her neck.

“I'll see you soon, my queen," the voice whispers.

—-

Purity leaps up. What it was about his voice, she cannot tell, but that figure jostles her to awake. She rolls over to awaken the orc and her companion, only to find they are gone, and only her boot remains.

The magic suffuses the place, making it heavier than what the heat would typically allow. She growls in annoyance, grabbing at her coat and unbuttoning the first few buttons, giving her collar some place to vent before she gets back to her legs. “Alright, forest… I know you're up to something. If you're some kind of spirit, face me and bring me back, my friend!"

There are whispers and giggles throughout the trees, and she catches the flitting forms of naked figures dancing and chasing one another. She follows soon, her movements out of balance thanks to the lack of a boot. Despite the danger and the terrain, she keeps tumbling and losing bits and pieces of cloth as the branches tear and fumble and grope at her until she finally finds it.

A grove, an opening that lets the unbearable sun bear upon all the people there, and there are so many. And they're all naked, some with masks, others wearing nothing at all, and they cavort and fornicate right there out in the open.

Naked, just like she is.

“Come, join us,' a melodious voice says, blowing a sweet powder into her face.

Suddenly, as she collapses into his arms, she thinks, “That doesn't sound like a bad idea…"

In the depths of the forest outside the borders of the city of Anteronia, the strange and wondrous things that occur are magnified upon the arrival of the day of Midsummer, where the various fey creatures cavort and play in their Bacchanalian. Even the Judicators of the excellent lawgiver deity Justiciar would never dare try to impose their rule upon the most unruly of revelries.

Perhaps they are a bit less foolhardy than Purity has been. The magical girl, once arriving here to rescue her friend, now finds herself bound by fairy thread, rope wrapped around the Maypole, her arms up high and her legs spread apart, exposing her to the other undressed revelers.

Melia is there with her. The scholar of the natural world is now fully exposed herself, tied to the Maypole and facing away from Purity.

Exposed as they are in the, the two could not look any more different. Purity's skin glows with a soft pinkish hue from her magical energy. Her curves extend past the pole, her full hips and breasts the perfect representation of the feminine, and the hearts on her nipples and the one shaved perfectly at her peach add to the lewd cuteness she often portrays.

Melia, meanwhile, is thin as a rail with messy green hair. Her glasses hang down to the bridge of her nose. Her chest is flat, her hips narrow, and her own pole hangs between her legs.

Slowly, slowly, dancing fair folk spin around the pole, tying it up in the colorful streamers. Melia keeps her head low through the slow binding process while Purity struggles against her bonds, haven awoken from her strange hypnotic slumber.

“You think you'll have your way with us, do ya?" Purity asks, snipping at them. “If so, you'll have another thing coming!"

From among the revelers, a tiny pixie flies up. There is a smirk on her face as she flutters in front of Purity, her arms wrapped around herself, just under her perky breasts to show them off. “Yeah, no. We won't let you or your friend stop the arrival of our King. We just need to make sure the two of you are prepared."

“Don't you dare hurt Mel!" Purity snaps, chomping at the pixie, who flits away from her, only to zip down over the magical girl, fluttering in front of her chest. “Something wrong, hero of Anteronia? You think you have a say here?" She reaches her hand out and brushes slowly along the outline of Purity's aerolas.

The magical girl yelps and writhes, hopping about. “H-hey quit it! S-stop!"

“My, my, is the hero sensitive?" the pixie says. She places her fingers in her mouth and blows a tremendous big whistle.

A half dozen more pixies arrive, giggling and tittering as they find themselves peppering kisses and stroking along the sensitive areas of the magical girl's skin. Around and no her nipples, up and down her side, and at her thighs, each of them stroking and playing with different intervals, tittering to one another in their own fairy language.

Purity thrashes around, tears rolling down her eyes, quick and uncontrolled laughs cascading from her mouth, and all the while, the other fair folk dance around the maypole, the ribbons getting to the bound captive's hands.

Though she laughs, she doesn't give in. So the fairies continue their playful torment, pinching and pulling at her nipples and even giving tiny pixie bites upon her side. Each of these tortures sends her thrashing this way and that, panting once they finally stop.

But why did they stop?

Purity blinks, her heart-shaped eyes glancing hither and yon before her ears twitch in recognition.

Behind her is the soft whisper of words, much like the ones the pixies spoke to each other, but these words come from Melia.

The pixies float around the pole, joining in on the dance and spinning counterclockwise to the dancers' movements. But all eyes are on the pole now, and they all turn their way towards the girls—no, towards Melia.

“Hey, Mel, what are you saying?" The magical girl asks. “I don't know what kind of magic you're doing, but it's giving me bad vibes. Don't you dare get yourself in trouble because of me!"

“Quiet," the other student says. “For once, I am in my own element. You could at least let me handle this my way."

Purity gasps, bringing her knees together, but she cannot help herself. Something is changing, and the magical girl gasps, her head lulling down, her breath heavy. It's so warm all around her, with these eyes upon her, and the haunting messages. It's all so reminiscent of other times when she was this susceptible.

“Mind magic…?" she whispers.

Melia shouts, and with a moment's response, the fey falls to the ground, blissfully writhing about and singing the praises of delight. Fluids fly as the fairies extol their ecstasy upon the air and the grass, leaving each of them in a panting, glowing ruts of delighted debauched goodness.

“W-well, that's one thing you can do," Purity says, gulping, “But who's going to let us out?"

“They are," Melia says, her voice gruffer, deeper, and more masculine than Purity had ever heard before. A moment later, from the trees emerge the dryads, who tiptoe past their friends and approach the pole, undoing the ropes as they keep their heads bowed low.

Purity falls down and rubs her wrists. “Okay, and when did you learn fairy control magic?"

“Control?" Melia scoffs, grabbing her glasses. She tosses them aside, letting them fall to the ground. He then spins around, running a hand through his hair, his smirk sultry, masculine, smoldering. “It's called authority, and I got it when I became the Summer King."

Purity stares up at her friend Melia, the magical girl's eyes widening as she sees the tall and confident figure man before her, running hands through his long wavy hair, standing in the sun, his skin glistening with delight and warmth. Two dryads hang onto him, nuzzling against his shoulders and fluttering their eyes in admiration of their king.

Purity breaks the admiring silence, asking, “What is the summer king?"

Rolling his shoulders, the Summer King dismisses his dryads to step up to the Magical girl, squatting before her, hands on his knees, that confident glaze gleaming on his eyes. “Purity, surely someone like you could understand the need for a double life. What about your secret identity?"

Purity scoots back, bumping against one of the dryads. Then she realizes the fey form a rough circle around the two humans. “Uh, we should probably head back home, right, your Highness?"

The Summer King's sly smirk becomes an impish grin. “Oh, but Purity, you do realize something, right?" He leans forward, crawling to her, placing a hand on her thigh. “No Summer King is complete without his queen."

Purity falls back, supporting herself with her elbows, her heart beating quickly. “M… Mel…? This isn't like you."

He crawls up higher along her, practically straddling her. His royal scepter hard and poking towards her, and his hands on either side of her on the grass. His hair droops over his shoulders to brush over her body. “And what exactly is it like to be me, hm? Do you know, Libi?"

Purity gasps as he speaks her name. Is it because he would brazenly say it in the open, exposing it to so many capricious ears? Or is it how he said it, with that husky, breathy voice. Or even then, is it with the swiftness that his lips press against her own, locking them together.

Her eyes widen a moment before closing, accepting that tongue invading her mouth and finally falling to the sway of the heat of Midsummer.

When he pulls his mouth free from her, her tongue rolls out, curling, begging him to return.

He chuckles, brushing his hand down over her collar. “The protector of the city and the spirit of the forest, together. Isn't it poetic? It's like it was always meant to be."

“I… I don't…" she swallows but gasps when he brings a hand down, thumb rubbing over her nipple. “Nngh…"

“You can't deny yourself, just like I cannot deny myself. For the longest day of the year, I am the Summer King, but never have I had my queen with me." he attacks her neck with kisses, going under her chin and nuzzling against her.

She wrapped her arms around him, gripping against his back, so much more toned and muscular than she'd realized. She holds tightly to him as he kisses down along her collarbone and down to her breast.

He presses his lips to one nipple, his tongue poking through, swirling against it, flicking it and pulling away.

She squirms under his position, biting her lip, her worry disappearing.

“Part of me envies you, Libi," he says, his voice a soft growl, his hand reaching up, groping her breast, rolling her in his fingers. “That feminine side that is so meek and so often at the forefront of my ego—she would kill to have curves like you."

“Y… you're not serious, are you?" Purity asks, looking down over herself at the face now burying itself between her breasts, rubbing and sighing happily.

The Summer King leans up, resting his chin on her chest, giggling. “No, silly. I learned long ago there were more healthy, fun ways to get what I wanted. I am the Summer King, after all. What I want, I get!"

“And you want my tits?"

He grabs them both by the side, squishing them together, rolling them so that the nipples rub each other. “My Queen, I have them right now." He says this, flicking his tongue back and forth over her, growling in that impish hunger, all the while, his precum-drooling cock brushes just under her navel.

“Aaah!" Purity pushes her hips up, pressing against that swollen tip, making the Summer King drop her breasts, letting them fall back down into their sagging place, spread over her from the pull of gravity.

“Ah… so you're eager for it," he chuckles. “I wonder how powerful your purity magic is, hm?"

“H… hm?"

He slides the cock head down over her tummy and down between her legs, drawing a line through the middle of her fuzzy heart-patch. “No matter how many monsters you fuck in your duties to the city, you never get pregnant. I assume that's part of your power, isn't it?"

Purity covers her eyes, shaking her head. “Gah, why are you talking about that, Mel?"

“Oh, it's simple," he says. We're going to see if fairy magic will override that and usher in a vernal child!"

When he says this, he pushes his hips forward, his cock pressing through her walls, eagerly accepted by the dripping wet delight of her sex.

And as the two locks within each other, the fairy frolickers return to their dancing ways with a great and mighty cheer!

“C-child!?" Purity whines, placing her hands upon the Summer King's shoulders. “Are you crazy? I can't have a baby!"

“Can't, or don't want?" the king says, kissing Purity on the nose. “Aren't we friends, Libi? Aren't we close?" He slides a hand over her thigh. Aren't the two of us beings tied to our libido?"

She gulps, her heart-eyes seeking sincerely into his own calm gaze. “Mel," she says, her voice a waver. “I have my duties… you have your studies and desires of your own. We can't raise a child together. You wouldn't be a father to them most of the year."

He kisses her chin. “With the consummation of our souls, we shall be ourselves all year long, and our future offspring shall be the greatest of all the fey. You need not worry. Save for the next few months."

Purity wraps her arms around him, pulling him in close, feeling his chest press to her own, his heartbeat matching with hers. She wraps her legs around him, maneuvering to keep his throbbing manhood from entering her, and she whispers into his ear. “I must protect everyone, even from themselves."

He growls, pushing against her, wrestling against the magical girl. Purity grapples back, always keeping her body close to his, staining her skin with the grass at her back and the seminal fluid at her tummy.

“I will not be denied my kingdom, my destiny!" he roars, gripping tightly around her chest. His muscles flex, and he exerts himself, pushing, rolling, and tumbling onto his back on his own.

But Purity holds on, pinning him down herself now, letting go and straddling him. She smiles down at him with half-lidded eyes and a sad, weary grin.

“This is something I do every day, Mel," she says. “A monster comes and tries to exert its will against someone, using the ancient mystical arts of eroticism against someone else. But why can't we be friends and comfort each other when we feel incomplete?"

The Summer King stares up at her. The calm and caring figure, curvy and filled with the symbols of compassion over her form, practically glows in the heat of the summer sun. The sight gives him pause as he lies underneath her.

All around the fairy court were jeers and hollers, begging in their fairy language and hunching over closer and closer to his king and his disobedient queen.

He holds onto her with a cry of indignant might as the grasses around them grow extra long, vines and branches writhing through the swaying stalks, wrapping around her waist and tugging her away from him. Purity falls back, her hands behind her, her legs bound close to her wrists. She struggles and snaps at him, watching the summer king with burning annoyance.

He stands, dusting off the back of his legs and stretching. In the sun's light, he is a bronzed beauty who rushes her with feelings that conflict with her heroic nature.

“You could have been this confident all the times we were alone together, Mel," Purity says. “Why didn't you?"

The Summer King stops mid-pose, steps one foot to the other, and bites his lip. He lowers his hands and approaches her, shoulders hunched, posture poised, footfalls dedicated to his purpose, hands clenched.

He places a hand behind her hair and sneers down at her. “I'm not this person on those days."

“Yes… you are," Purity says, gazing up at him, but her look is no longer that of annoyance but of tender understanding. I just didn't realize all of you. Thank you for wanting to show yourself to me," she says. But I can't give you a child."

“Preposterous!" he says, leaning in, his smile broader and more gleeful in that capricious fairy way. “We'll just have to be willing to try. Are you not willing?"

She leans in, pressing her lip to the tip of his hardened and exposed cock.

“Gah! L-libi?" He hops back, arms around his side.

“All talk and bluster," she says, licking her lips, “just as I thought. “You make a pretty good guy, Mel," she says, “But you're still you."

The Summer King winces but catches himself, chuckling and running and running his head through his hair.

“And you do that when you're nervous," she says.

He stops mid-stroke, staring at her.

“But if you want to play with me, know you're playing with a pro. I bet I've fucked half of the kinds of creatures that are here in the copse already."

“Oh, I don't doubt that," He says, petting the back of her head, gripping her hair, holding her in place. “But I'm not here for a fuck. I'm here to practice the old, old magic.

She keeps one eye open, letting the pain of her hair being tugged fade away in her confidence. “Oh yeah? Well, you still forget that isn't going to happen!"

“I'll have you begging for my cock before the summer is over!" he snarls, pressing the head against her cheek, marking her with the oozing pre that dribbles down from the head.

“And I'm telling you that won't matter!" Libi says, and though she has a bright, magical girl smile, her vast, happy-heart eyes betray a slight tearing up at the corners.

He lets go of her and takes a step back. “L… Libi, did… are you? S… since when?"

Purity lowers her head, her cheeks glistening with tears and cum, and she says, “Part of the risks of being a Magical Girl like me. You fuck so many monsters, and something's bound to break."

The forest fey's murmuring grows louder, and a pallor shade casts over the Summer King's face. “I see… then we might have a problem."

The whims of nature are often unpredictable, despite the many advancements in technology and magical forecasting, and just like the nature they live in, the whims of the fey are often just as fickle.

The heavy wind blows against Purity's naked flesh, bringing forth goosebumps all over her body. All around her and the Summer King, the fey creatures step closer, their gazes mischievous and dire.

“A price has to be paid, Purity," the Summer King says, a hand upon his hip. “And we must consummate our union as promised and provide the requisite sacrifice."

“I can't give it," the Magical Girl responds. “Whether for good or bad, that's the truth."

The Summer King slips his knees before her, touching her cheeks. “Then, could you fault me for trying amidst these angered spirits? You wouldn't want to provoke their ire anymore, would you?"

Purity sees the concern within the Summer King's eyes, that vestige of her friend behind the domineering and boastful satyr of a man. She takes a deep breath and presses her lips to his as much as she can.

Almost immediately, the fey creatures return to their cheering, dancing around the Maypole, turning towards themselves for their cavalier ways.

The Summer King's eyes widen with surprise but soon close, draping his arms around Purity's sides and scooting ever closer. This time, their bodies press together as tongues dance around one another. They hold onto the embrace for a while, savoring each other before finally, it is the King who pulls away from her.

“I must admit," he says, a slight blush on his face, “this is a bit strange now that we're… you know."

Purity smirks, resting her forehead on his. “Next time you want to tie me up, you don't have to be so elaborate. You can just ask."

“I-I'm not like this."

“You are acting like good old Melia right here."

He scoffs. “That's where you're wrong!" With that, the Summer King pushes the bound Magical girl down, the ribbons and vines that bind her, laying her flat upon the ground, spreading her limbs apart. He climbs atop her, his flat, toned body pressing to her curved one, his arms wrapping around her, supporting her back, feeling that warmth all around him.

“Shall we dance the Summer's dance?" he whispers, kissing her cheek and down to her neck.

“Oh yes, Summer King, we shall. And then, shall we escape from here?"

“If they find our performance done well enough," he whispers back, then clears his throat and proclaims. “By the power of the summer, I shall grant you what you cannot have!"

His cock presses against her folds, finding them glistening and ready for him, slipping in with only slight resistance. He grunts as he fills her, his sounds cute against her ears, all while the feeling of being filled and stretched ever-so-slightly tickles at her loins.

Gentle bushes brush against one another as flesh rubs to flesh. Heartbeats dance in a tune of interweaving steps as skin slides and sticks in sweaty friction, and soon, he pushes into her, slowly but with determination and drive, palms pressed to her back, chest rubbing against hers. Lips kissing all over her cheeks and neck and lips.

Purity strains against her restraints, struggling and gasping to win the delight that the Summer King gives her in this ritual, but not ritual. Her desires well up within her, making herself wetter making the actions faster. She groans, pleading with a moaning delight. “Untie me, mmm… please!"

The Summer King tests his control, lifting up from her, licking his lips, and nodding to the dryads. They approach each of Purity's bound appendages and untie the remainder of her restraints. Only the faint kiss of red remains where they had held her down so tightly, and once freed, she immediately wraps her arms around the Summer King, gripping his shoulder blades, her legs encircling him, keeping him close to her.

“If your magic can do this," she says, forehead to forehead, eyes half-lidded, 'then promise me you'll be a good father, even when you're a mother."

He stares at her, frozen even in his movements, looking at her with a remembrance of his Wintery self. He licks his lips, and he nods. “Yeah," he responds. “And you?"

“If it happens…?" she responds, squeezing him gently, “Definitely."

From that moment, the Summer King's speed increases, and his thrusts become much more substantial. He breaks free from her arms, sitting up, hands moving down, lifting her up by her ample cheeks. He looms over her, grunting as he thrusts into her waiting motherhood, biting his lip, one eye covered by the long and curled grassy hair.

Underneath, Purity pushes herself up, slipping her legs down, planting her feet on the grassy earth, and rocking her lower body against his movements. She watches him, her elbows pinned to the ground, her body swaying, her tits bouncing, her eyes just full of delight.

Together, their gasps and groans fill the summertime air, and the fairy folk all around them embrace one another in their own carnival of delights, from which many stories could spring forth.

Between the two, Purity is the first. Her eyes roll back, her mouth is stuck in the eye of delight, and her body clamps around the male who has his way with her. Her cries fill the forest, announcing to the world the completion.

It is enough to send the Fairy King over the edge, groaning and gritting his teeth. Try as he might, he cannot hold back anymore, and gushes of his fluid fill her over and over in uncontrolled bursts until he falls onto her, panting, sweating, spiraling into that tiredness only a man can know.

Purity hugs and nuzzles him, kissing his cheek. “So," she whispers, her soft smile spreading across her face. Do you think that was enough for the fey?"

He chuckles, resting his chin upon her breast and delicately kissing her mound. “No," he responds. We fey are never satisfied."

Purity pulls the Summer King into a warm embrace, burying his head against her chest, a smirk filling up as her eyes glow, staring off at the approaching fairies with a glimmering glow in her eye. “Well, Mel, the day is still hot, and I'm ready to play if you are.

He pulls his mouth away from her, smirking back. “Alright then, my queen. Let's dance!"