A Midsummer's Fling 7
In the heat of passion, the Summer King and his Queen find the companionship that they need.
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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!”