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An open window spells invitation (Demure+Lanolyt)

D

Demure.Obsession

Planetoid
Joined
Nov 22, 2011
Plotline:
Jesselyn Hart is a popular author, who has escaped the hustling, bustling city to finish her latest novel in the peaceful country side.
Its not long before she begins to feel weary of unseen eyes watching her every move.
As a fantasy novelist, she writes about fairies and magical creatures. However, she hardly believes them to be real.
She's about to be proven quite wrong.
As the fear of watching eyes melts away to a strong curiosity, followed by an even stranger attraction of the unknown, she leaves her window open.
An invitation.
 
Leaving the city was always strange. The air in the country lacked a certain smell, an electric energy, that the city had.
It was dark when she arrived at her Grandparents old estate. The sky was deep blue and studded with thousands of stars, each shining like a diamond.
Jesselyn slid out of the car and immediately began to shiver, as she wrapped her arms around herself and jogged towards the front door.
Sliding her key into the lock, she was greeted to a slightly dusty smell, and encroaching shadows. Stepping inside the manor, she felt along the all for a light switch, and finally found it.
The lights flickered on, revealing a large living room filled with furniture draped in white sheets.
" Home sweet home..." she said to herself as she set her suit case next to the couch, and pulled the sheets off.
Flopping down on the couch, she looked up at the ceiling for a few moments, before laying her arm over her face and sighing.
Before too long, she slipped into an easy slumber, head filled with thoughts of deadlines and story lines.
 
Vargalad's eyes were rimed with the many tears he had cried. He perched in the crotch of the elder oak, thirty feet up, and far from prying eyes.

In a matter of minutes, the last magical old growth forest had caught fire from who knew what, and the fierce inferno had raced around the edge, whipped by winds. Pixie, sprite, satyr...all were gone.

He had been here, resting in the oak even older than those of the grove. It was here he had brought the smoking near dead body of Halithlin the dryad...her wounds far to extensive for him to have even offered small solace. So he had kissed his friend of many centuries, brought her to the central meeting of this giant oak's bough, spoken the words of joining and watched the tree accept her into itself, merged her magical energies. With any luck, next year or the following, a silvery acorn would appear, which he would plant to gow a new dryad tree.

But that had been three weeks ago. Now, he surveyed the long abandoned house. Previously tenanted by the sweet lady Jessie Lynn. She had remembered the old ways, leaving milk and eggs out for the Fae creatures, and they had gifted her in return. Never was she ill, and when she married, she was abundantly fertile with health in her family. In her last year, as she sat lonely, he had come to her, allowing her to see him, a whiled away her passing days with many a tale, or trick to show. She was an artist, and when she sketched his pale face and golden locks, he had let her frame it, and signed it in Elvish with, 'always to be cherished.' She had had a Granddaughter visit a few times. A spunky girl who he felt bemoaned that she had not the old dame's skill with the brush...yet he could read that the stylus was where her gifts lay.

Once, she had starled him by throwing up a rope and climbing to his favorite perch. He had crouched behind her as she saw his various items, likely assuming that coon or crow had collected them. He had not begrudged her the ivory, gemstudded hair comb she'd taken, for she'd taken a bit of his heart with her.

He knew they could share auras, but she left before growing, Old Jessie died, and the house remained untouched these many years, but for him. He told the mice they could shelter and play there, but could not chew anything.

Now, not even a month from his own disaster. Now was she returning. What could it mean? He tried to read her future in the orb weaver's silks, but it was far to muddled...as though he'd foolishly tried to read his own.

Skipping to the roof, he hung from the eaves of the first floor and peered in the top of a high window. There she was, laying sprawled innocently on a couch. She was all grown, no longer gangly and bony, but with rich curves...that he would enjoy against himself... Now where had that sprouted from? Never had he been attracted to a human except for her...only her. He saw the comb by her purse. There was now a crack in it. Smiling, he spoke of wholeness and the crack sealed.

Slipping through the front door, he touched her chest. Her aura nearly as pure and good as was that of her child self. Relieved, though unsure why, he drifted to the bookshelf, and pulled out Jessie Lynn's journal. Then he balanced it on edge, and whisked himself out, closing the door, just as the journal, filled with meetings, sketches and notes, hit the floor where she slept.
 
She had been dreaming an odd dream. One that had come to her many times over the years.
About a time when she was a young girl, visiting this very house during the long, languid summers.
There was one day of summer where she had thrown an old, worn rope over the branch of the gigantic, gnarled, yet beautiful oak in the back half of the property. She was a gangly and thin whip of a girl back then, and found that it was quite easy to angle her way up the bark of the ancient tree. Once she climbed some distance up, she found a branch that seemed well worn, it was comfortable and she settled herself there. She was treated with an amazing view of the estate and the surrounding forests.
It was strange, she felt as if someone was with her in that tree, but as she looked around, she could see no one, and she had chalked it up to being silly and suspicious.
Atop the branch she had found a small hole in the bark, and many strange and wondrous objects. One of them called to her it seemed, a beautiful and intricate ivory hair comb, studded with ruby, fire agate and labradorite.
She had showed it to her Grandmother, who had told her that it probably belonged to an elf.
Her Grandmother had been a great woman, gentle, loving and mischievous. She could remember the way she smelled of breads and spices, and how her hands closed easily around the charcoal as she drew such wonderfully intricate drawings on thick pads of art paper.
Sometimes she thought it was perhaps her Grandmothers love for the fairy tale creatures that made her decide to become an fantasy novelist.
She remembered the stories her Grandma had told her as a girl, and she cherished those times. They were times of wonderment and innocence...
She wished she could believe those stories today.
Her eyes shot open as soon as the thick volume hit the floor, the sound echoing in the empty living room.
She sat up groggily and looked around in surprise. "H-Hello?" she asked, sliding her feet over the edge of the couch and placing them lightly against the floor. She shivered as the cold wood hit her bare feet, and thought to herself that it might be a good idea to start a fire.
She scanned the room, and found herself completely alone, and shook her head. " Being out in the wilderness does something to a girl" she noted with dry amusement.
She quickly located the cause of noise, and walked towards it, bending at the waist to retrieve it off the floor.
It was a thickly bound sketch book. Her Grandmothers from the looks of it. It had a worn, tan leather cover, simply titled with the name Jessie Lynn inscribed in it.
She flipped it open gently, and allowed her eyes to roam the contents.
It was filled with sketches of animals, plants and mystical creatures. Her Grandmother had such talent, and looking at the drawings made something in Jesselyn's heart stir.
She remembered the many stories of elves and fairies that her Grandmother had told her, and how she used to set out milk and eggs for the creatures as gifts.
Smiling to herself, she shook her head and walked to her portable food cooler. Inside she pulled out a gallon of milk, and four eggs.
Walking into the kitchen, she found two bowls and filled one with milk, and the other with the eggs.
Opening the window, she set them on the outside sill, and sighed. She stuck her head out into the night air, and stared up at the sky for a few seconds before closing the window all but a few inches.
Yawning and stretching her arms above her head, her shirt rode up to expose her navel and full, rounded hips. The fabric of her top strained against her generously proportioned breasts, as she reached up to muss up her dark, choppy locks.
Walking up stairs with the book in hand, she walked down the dark hallway and opened a door on the left. It was the room she used as a child, and it seemed as thought it was still as she had left it.
Trudging over to the bed, she slid beneath the covers and set the sketch book on the bedside table.
Looking around the room she noted all the dolls and pictures of elves and fairies. It made her smile.
Her eyes slid closed, long black eyelashes fanning against her high cheek bones. Her full, red lips settled into a sleeping pout, before her soft breathing filled the room.
It seemed like she had not slept long at all when she was rused to wakefulness by the suns rays hitting her eyelids.
She groaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow over her head.
She was half tempted to fall asleep again, but she begrudgingly knew that she had to wake up and start working on her latest novel.
She had a deadline coming up for her final draft, and she was finding that she was less inspired than usual.
She headed to the bathroom, where she pulled her brush out and fixed her sleep mused hair. Slashing her face with warm water, she looked into the mirror, before pulling out her tooth brush and getting to her morning routines.
Once that was done, she headed down stairs and into the kitchen. She quickly unloaded her cooler into the refrigerator, and dug around for some breakfast ingredients.
Soon she was cooking up an omelet. The smell of cooked food and fresh herbs filled the room.
Sitting down, she ate in silence, mind mulling over her dream.
 
Oh...but she was trying her best. There were no longer fairies in the area to take the eggs, but Vergalad gave them to a hungry fox mother with a wounded leg and four kits.

In return, he selected a bracelet. A unique one, for it was carved of ivory...and was begemmed in the same wise as the comb he had left with her all those years ago.

Smiling, he grew the moss of the sill, until it spelled words to make her ponder. 'Dost Thou Believe'

Before he would approach, he would hear it from her own lips.

In the distance thunder crashed and he could smell the ozone carried far on the winds. The grove was gone, and with it the carefully woven protections. Well he knew how one favored would be targeted. So with bronze knife, he recarved the old sigils above each door and window, until the dark storm broke upon him. The grimbeasts strove to tear at the old oak and the nearby house, but his spells remained resolute. In the house, not a peal of thunder nor splash of rain on the window was heard.

Finally, the sun's rays broke the horizon and the darkness retreated. Exhausted and drenched, he lay in the tree shivering and hungry. It was amazing what humans never kenned that passed all around them. He watched her prepare for her day through the large leaded glass windows. Would she notice his gift. Would she invite him in? He didn't think she had noticed the comb as yet.

A late fog arose, obscuring the house from normal vision, yet he watched her in the cold of morning, waiting...he was good at that.
 
(Wow, that is really annoying, I already posted my reply once and it seems it didn't make it through)
As Jesselynn finished her omelet, she set her dirty dishes in the sink. Looking out onto the sill she noted that it was a stormy and gloomy day outside.
She also noticed that her offerings off eggs and milk were gone, and felt a tremor of shock race through her system.
Had her Grandma been telling the truth about elves and fairies?
"Get ahold of yourself Jesselynn.... Wild animals took the food, that's all" she chortled to herself.
Wild animals could not explain what she saw on her sill though.
"Doth thou believe" written in moss.
She felt herself shake with slight fear, as she looked around her yard and house. Had someone written this during the night? How could they? It was moss.
Those words hadn't been there last night right? She couldn't remember.
The paranoia of being watched set deep into her bones, almost like an ache. Her breath hitched, and her nostrils flared slightly, as she paced nervously.
Like a rabbit scenting a nearby predator.
Reason set in fairly quick afterwards, and she threw her head back and laughed. Of course it had been there last night, there was no way moss grew that quickly....
It was likely that her Grandmother had written it many years ago.
Relief washed over her. " I think I took a wrong turn down crazy lane" she said to herself, as she walked upstairs and into the bathroom.
Slipping out of her clothes, she stopped to look at herself in the full length mirror. She certainly no waif, she was a curvy girl, with DDD breasts, and a healthy, rounded waist. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were large and deep azure in color, framed with long, black eyelashes that fanned against her high cheekbones.
Turning on the taps to the bathtub, it began to fill with hot water. She opened a bottle of bubble bath and poured a healthy amount into the porcelain tub.
Slipping into the water, she let her head rest against the cool white surface, and closed her eyes.
 
Why did human work so hard to ignore what was before them. He watched as she took back the plates and read the message.

Then he noticed that the opening of the window had knocked the bracelet onto the ground. Invisibly, he entered the opened window, and placed the bracelet on the counter of the bathroom, next to the tub where she had placed the comb.

The breeze slowly blew the window shut behind him and he noted with alarm that the frame was bound in cold iron. He wasn't going out by that route. Also, the handles on the doors of the bathroom...Old black hammered iron. He gulped. well, he was in the deep of it now...

Her well curved body contained all the sensuality of two elvish ladies and as she prepared for her bath, he also stripped and pleasured himself, spraying into the bubbles, leaving a white trail across them. As she sank into the tub, the steam filled the bathroom.

It was such pleasure to watch her body outlines in the froth, and he grinned when she reached for the comb to find just a bit more. What fun to tease her.

He was relaxing and watching her, when there was the tiniest of sounds.

Old plaster was all that had held the great 2 x 3 foot mirror next to the tub. The iron screws had rusted away years before, leaving mere crust to hold its weight in place. Now, after years of drying out and cracking, the humidity swelled..and it gave way, pitching right before her, and about to hit the iron tub, to dash it self to razor sharp knives of destruction.

But Vergalad was an elf, and in him speed was well defined. He was suddenly in the tub, and grabbing the wet mirror edges, allowing them to slice his hands as he arrested its deadly motion. He gasped as back bowed and facing upward, the mirror pressed against him.

And then he realized...though invisible he might be, the imprint of his body was on the mirror, his feet in the tub made holes in the foam, and his blood was quite noticeable as it dripped down the mirror. To late to hide what was. He stepped from the tub to the mat, slowly placing the mirror down and against the wall.

Not yet revealing himself, but amused that there was and imprint of his member on the mirror, he supposed that introductions were in order.

"Peace upon you. I am a guardian by choice of this house and those who have been beloved of my lost friend, Jessie Lynn. If you bear me no ill will, please open the door or window that I may go forth. I mislike being in a prison bound with iron. I am now wounded and would not trouble you."

The blood from his hands slowly dripped into the sink as he clenched them.
 
Jesselynn blinked. Everything happened so quickly. First the mirror had pitched forward at an alarming speed. She had felt her heart shoot to her throat in terror.
But, something had stopped it. It was amazing actually, because the mirror had stopped falling of its own will... Or had it?
Then, there had been the feeling of something sinking into the tub with her, not something huge... But definitely apparent.
She gasped and covered herself in shock, staring at the mirror as it was suspended above her head.
That was when she noticed something odd. There was an imprint on the mirror... And it sort of looked like a...
"Penis...?" she muttered to herself, surprised.
She broke free of the thought, when she noticed the blood flowing into the tub, she shot up and nearly fell over into the wall.
When the voice filled the room, she stood shock still.
"H-Hello....?" she asked cautiously, water dripping down every curve.
"I'll let you go... B-But please reveal yourself first" she stammered, feeling very self concious.
The towel was all the way across the bathroom, and she wasn't sure what she dealing with... He said he was the guardian of the house... Which should make her feel better... But it really didn't because he was invisible.
He could be terribly deformed and blood thirsty for all she knew.
 
Vergalad's heart sank. But she had him fairly trapped, and he could not leave without her help. So, he took a deep breath and leaned inward to kiss her right eye, giving her the Sight.

Stepping back, she would now perceive the slim form. Muscles like braided ropes laid across each other rolled under his lightly tanned skin, and hands a big large for his five foot frame wrung themselves in worry. But those hand contained another surprise as each sported a spare finger.

His face was ruggedly handsome with a nose just a little too sharp to match the point of his chin...and the points of his ears. Slanted green eyes that lacked any apparent pupil peered at her and looked away, ashamed to be caught.

Moving down, his erect member was near her eye level jutting proudly out and up.

"Lady, Thou dost see me as I am, I beg The ask no more questions of Thy elf this day, but let him depart unto the safety of the woo..." He had started to say woods, but then remembered. "safety of the Tree."

His image would be instantly familiar as it was repeated throughout her grandmother's sketches. "Please speak not my name, as I would seek no disaster. Merely call me Watcher, Protector Elf....perhaps friend."

He shook and looked at his hands. The cuts were already closing, and the spilled blood fading into the semiclearness of sap. "If I go now, I will return when the moon rises...if the door is open."
 
Lanolyt said:
Vergalad's heart sank. But she had him fairly trapped, and he could not leave without her help. So, he took a deep breath and leaned inward to kiss her right eye, giving her the Sight.

Stepping back, she would now perceive the slim form. Muscles like braided ropes laid across each other rolled under his lightly tanned skin, and hands a big large for his five foot frame wrung themselves in worry. But those hand contained another surprise as each sported a spare finger.

His face was ruggedly handsome with a nose just a little too sharp to match the point of his chin...and the points of his ears. Slanted green eyes that lacked any apparent pupil peered at her and looked away, ashamed to be caught.

Moving down, his erect member was near her eye level jutting proudly out and up.

"Lady, Thou dost see me as I am, I beg The ask no more questions of Thy elf this day, but let him depart unto the safety of the woo..." He had started to say woods, but then remembered. "safety of the Tree."

His image would be instantly familiar as it was repeated throughout her grandmother's sketches. "Please speak not my name, as I would seek no disaster. Merely call me Watcher, Protector Elf....perhaps friend."

He shook and looked at his hands. The cuts were already closing, and the spilled blood fading into the semiclearness of sap. "If I go now, I will return when the moon rises...if the door is open."
Click to expand...
Jesselyn was relieved, but shocked.
Her 'prisoner' was an elf... A naked elf.
His looks were attractive, but not perfect, which in her opinion was better than complete asymmetric features. It gave him more character she thought.
Then it hit her, this was the Elf that her Grandmother had drawn in the sketch book.
And he had a large, erect penis... Right at her eye level.
She blushed and looked away nearly stammering. "Ah... Yes of course, I... Um... " she began walking to the window and opening it.
She noticed the comb on the floor and picked it up, frowning slightly when she noticed that it was fixed . She looked at him in surprise. "Did you fix this?" she asked, forgetting about the naked penis. She blushed even brighter, and looked away again.
 
Feeling her discomfort at his nakedness, he took a towel from the wall and wrapped himself. But his own eyes scanned her own lovely form. A breast so full...hips so inviting. The delta of her legs so delicious...

At her question, he lifted the bracelet from the floor to also present to her. "Twould not have been meet for such a fine arm ring to have a sullied comb to match."

Reaching out, a flick of his hand banished the water from her luxurious tresses, and body. His lips mumbled some like a child's song and her hair turned and wove itself into braids that were patterned over her head and down her back.

Timidly, he took the comb from her and set it into her hair like a tiara. "There, tis properly used. My thanks for releasing me. I did but enter to give this bracelet. It fell down and were missed. Welcome to Thy house. It suites Thee well. An Thou allow it, I would watch the creations of words with Thy stylus. Mayhap will I assist Thy muse, lady.

He turned to the mirror, which rose and reattached itself to the wall, all corrosion banished from both its supports and its silvery surface.

I shall return when the moon rises."

And then he was gone in an eyeblink. Taking her towel with himself, but leaving her nude and dry.
 
Once he disappeared, she felt her knees weaken and had to reach for something to steady herself.
So, either she was going crazy, or her Grandmother had been completely true about the mystical creatures.
She looked at herself in the mirror, noted how the jewelry looked on her and wondered about his words.
And then, the thought of his erection entered her mind again, and she felt herself becoming slightly aroused.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she walked to her room, breasts jiggling, unbound and impressive.
She bent over in the room to pull clothing from her suitcase, finding a pair of under wear and a bra, as well as a strapless dress before beginning to dress.
She slid the panties up her long legs in one fluid motion, leaning forward to complete the task, forcing her large breasts to fall forward slightly, swaying lightly.
Next she unclasped her strapless bra, and slid it on, turning the back to the front of her so that she could reclasp it, before swiveling it around and pulling it up. Her breast were large enough to make the task somewhat cumbersome, and they resisted for a few moments before being pressed down into the cotton prison.
She stepped into the dress and pulled it up as well, reaching behind her back with a long, slim arm to pull the zipper up in back.
She found herself quite nervous all day long. She couldn't concentrate on writing, as she had so many questions for him buzzing around in her head.
She paced too and fro in a dazed state until she noticed that it was getting dark outside.
Her heart leapt to her throat it seemed.
 
From his tree perch, the elf watch her movements, every harmonic swing of her heavy breasts causing a correlated twing and pulse in his rehardened member.

How did her curvy body affect him so? Elf girls were slim as a willow wand, nipples tiny and resting almost flat to their chests. Once he had appreciated that, but now...now measured against a breast that screamed out 'I AM nurturing and the definition thereof.' She moved with such sweet bounce, as though her body was composed of enthused rabbits. He sucked in his breath as she straightened.

Looking down, he willed his penis to calm. He was amazed that it disobeyed him. It knew better than he how to select a proper partner.

Frustrated with his own reactions, he shook out his hair and considered how to meet her this time. He'd certainly made a mess of things up to now. Fortunately, all he heard and saw, he remembered, and he recalled the ray dee oh, and tee vee projections jessie had listened to when she thought him far. He would use them for a basis.

Summoning the greenery around himself, he crafted a leaf green business suit with red veined pin stripes. Squirrel and badger hair with wood blocks became reddish grey felt boots, and spider silk became his ivory shirt.

He had gems for cuff links and a broach at his throat. Finally, his long hair was bound back into a braided pony tail. With a tray of crystal sugar honey treats, shaped like various Fae, and a bunch of wildflowers, he stepped up to tap the window pane.

Remembering his line, he said. "I have come acourtin' liddle lalady. Wone chu let this ol hoss in fer a spell." He beamed with pride at having said it right.
 
She tuned to face the rap at the window. "Ah, yes, Please come in" she invited as she opened the window for him.
She noted that he looked quite handsome in his suit, with his hair bound and braided. She reached out and offered her arm to help steady him as he came through the window.
She had many questions to ask him, and now that he was here she was feeling jittery and nervous.
Suddenly the image of his penis popped into her head and she flushed bright red. She rubbed her hands against her face to try and get a hold of herself.
"Please have a seat" she offered, gesturing towards the couch.
 
Vergalad was enchanted by her, and particularly by how he could smell her arousal.
"Well Howdy to ya too, Ma'am. Ah'm a cottonin ta...ta... Oh phooey! I really was trying to do this courting talk I'd heard. But it just doesn't work for me.

Lady, I'm certain we each have questions. I'll answer a few....I'm some where over 600 years old. Yes, I do magic. I am here to protect you. Your Grandmother was my friend and I miss her. And I do find you very attractive. Oh! and please call me Ver. My friends do, and I desire us to be good...no, the BEST of friends.

Might I have a name to call you?"

As he moved and crossed his legs, his suit, which had been drying out, began to crack and shred. Suddenly, he buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, I tried to be the good suitor....I even brought a suit."

Soon the suite was gone and he sat in his shirt, which did a fair job of covering his privates. "Do I need to leave already?"
 
A confused look crossed her face before she dissolved into laughter, breasts heaving from the force of it. "Oh thank goodness. I had a hard time understanding what you were saying when you spoke like that..." she admitted sheepishly. The smile remained on her face as she relaxed.
"Protect me? From what?" she asked slowly.
When his suit began to crumble, she nearly giggled again, but tried to keep a straight face, since it was obvious he put a lot of effort into dressing up for the occasion. "No, you can stay... Its fine" she assured, trying her hardest not to stare at his shirt covered crotch.
She thought about what he had said. He wanted to be best friends with her.
She wasn't exactly a social person, so she'd never had a best friend before... Though, having an elf for a best friend didn't sound so bad. "Okay Ver, lets be friends then. My name is Jesselynn" she introduced herself, sitting down beside him.
She curiously picked up one of the honey sugar candies, and slid it into her mouth, savoring the flavor as it disolved on her tongue. "This is really delicious!" she exclaimed.
 
Ver grinned as she agreed to be friends.

He comment about the cakes brought a sly smile. "I'm very glad you like them. They are all for you Jesselynn." The cakes were mating cakes. Made from honey, nectars and his own semen, with a spell to bind them together. They made elven women become aroused...but elves had a natural resistance to magic. He wondered how much stronger it would react upon her. He suddenly noticed that the cakes were appearing at an alarming rate.

"Jesselynn. Please stop. To many of these sweets aren't good for you." He had thought to have her eat one or two...just how many had she gulped down?

The cakes magic worked into her hormones and her forebrain firing and igniting passions like a white hot torch. As her hormones flowed, the ducts in her large breasts responded, and slowly she began to lactate.

Ver watched nervously. Perhaps it would have been wiser to have brought only one cake...instead of 12. Softly, he smiled and took her hand between his own, lightly stroking it. "Are you feeling well, Jesselynn? Those cakes can be strong."

He started to look at the window and edge towards it. Should he better leave now? He stood, but doing so lifted his shirt from his lap, exposing he semihardness. He backed one step, watching her like a mouse does a hawk. Only this time the hawk's plan had failed and the mouse was the pursuer.
 
She was beginning to feel feverishly warm. Only two of the cakes were left on the plate. She couldn't explain why she had eaten so many... It was like once she tasted the first one, she just couldn't stop herself.
When warm liquid slid down her ribs, she looked down in dazed alarm, her breasts seemed fuller, heavier... And she was lactating?
She tried to stand, but her feet very unsteady. " Ver... I feel strange" she breathed out, as the room seemed to blurr. Nothing stood out except him.
Everything in her body was calling out for him. She felt like she would die if she didn't touch him right now.
Stumbling forward, she managed to catch his arm, and just touching his skin made her feel good. "What is wrong with me?" she asked, leaning her face against the crook of his neck.
 
Ver blushed. "that would be my fault...the cakes were meant to make you...comfortable...with me, but I think you are a little too comfortable."

He folded her into a hug, trying to ignore her pressing against his member.
Then he remembered...10 cakes. "Dear, we have to get that top off you! Your breasts are still growing...I'm not sure when they'll stop, and it will not last, but I don't want you hurt."

He removed her top and bra and gasped at her breasts...so swollen...so heavy.

"Jesselyn, would you like me to suckle and relieve the pressure. Or you can squeeze them out...but I don't mind a bit." In fact, his mouth was watering for her and the smell was heavenly. 10 cakes. He'd never heard of such a thing. What else might happen?
 
She gasped and moaned sensuously as he grasped her breasts and removed her top, cool air hitting her nipples, which were dripping sweet milk down her belly.
"P-Put them in your mouth" she begged, sliding her hands through his hair and urging him towards her swollen and heavy breasts.
She could feel his warm breath on her nipple and she knees weakened.
She could tell she was already soaking through her underwear, and normally she knew she should be embarrassed by this, but she oddly wasn't right now.
 
Frightened for her now, he ran to the cold box and got the big clear milk vase and a bowl of potatoes with some kind of cream sauce.

Bye the time he got back, her breasts were actually shooting milk. "Drink, eat! This is not done and it will deplete you!"

He latched onto a nipple and gulped, hardly able to swallow as fast as it came, then as soon as it slowed he suckled at her other one. No relaxed nurturing moment as he'd hoped for, this was taking her from pain.

But there was something else. With her dress off, he could see her nectars dripping through her panties. That would have to wait, though he cupped a hand under her to press and try to stop the flow.

Over and over he drank from her breasts and his stomach was painfully distended...as was his member. The magic in her milk was having a secondary effect on him as well. Finally the flow abated and he was gasping. His cupped hand was full of her liquids.

He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to keep his eyes upon her face. "Jesselynn, whatever we both desire, we must not mate. If we do, the magic will lock us together forever...I don't think you truly want that, so I ought to leave." Star and comets, these words were hard. Precumm was actually streaming from his cock, as he released his hand from her vee and tried to take a step backwards.

But he too was disoriented, and back against the couch, sprawling there before her, and gazing as her inflamed dripping sex...so much like an orchid waiting for a bee. And his balls were swollen, holding back his need. "J-jess?"
 
She followed him, pressing a finger to his lips, before she replaced it with her lips, kissing him deeply, sliding her tongue against his. She could taste her milk in his mouth. "Ver... I.. I need this" she said lowly, grabbing his cock firmly, and stroking him fluidly.
Reaching behind her, she unzipped the rest of the dress and it slid off of her, and pooled on the floor.
With her left leg, she used her foot to pull her underwear down her long, shapely leg.
Grabbing his cock in one hand, she straddled his lap, and aligned their sexes before allowing the head of his cock to slip inside with a moan tearing past her lips.
Looking him deep in the eye, she dropped her hips, impaling herself deliciously on his rod, shuddering delightfully with each inch that filled her.
She nearly came right then and there, having him inside her was immensely satisfying.
Bending her head down, she kissed him again, deeply and slowly, trying to coax him into using his tongue, she slid her hips back and forth, setting a slow and fluid pace, as her large, milky breasts swung to and fro with each thrust.
"V-Ver... " she moaned, eyes fluttering shut as she threw her head back, lost to the reality of the situation.
 
Her kiss overwhelmed him, and she was strong...magically crazed strength of overwhelming passion searing through her.

She did need him, but not like this. Yet his aching member, sunk so very deep within her wet velvet recesses was perfection. He started to return her thrusts, then froze as an image of his uncle, master of ensorcelment intruded. The stiff austere face repeating over and over... "Vergalad, It is you choice always whether you control the magic or it you. The day you lose, you start down the dark path."

And he remembered, if his semen filled a sex tranced female, she would become his thrall...near mindless, and craving only to be filled. Jesselynn...she had art in her writing...to lose that...

The ticking of the grandmother clock seemed to slow and freeze as he made his decision.

With a howl, he threw them both sideways on the couch and pulled from her as he pushed her down, hair scattered and massive breasts splayed. "I Vergalad, give you my name and choose you Jesselynn for no less than my life mate. Now drink my mana and we will join!"

He spun and pressed his member into her gasping mouth and down her throat and buried his hands face in her labia, suckling hard, and flicking his long tongue far within her. He was all over and all in her, devouring her sweet nectars...and taking part of her human self into his soul...now she must complete by consuming his own magical offering.

He rolled them to the floor with her thighs and puss smothering him. From here she could move to fellate him and take his elven gift of shared destiny.
 
She mewled in disappointment when he rolled them over and pulled out of her cunt.
But, her mouth was quickly filled with his hard member, and she heard his howl, proclaiming that he was choosing her as his life mate. She was flattered to be honest. She realized that there was something very important and binding about what was happening right now.
Was he expecting her to hesitate, pull away?
She eagerly suckled his member, savoring the flavor of both him and her own juices that had slicked it from the earlier impalement.
She felt her body shuddering in delight at the tracing of his tongue against her delicate flower.
When he rolled them over so that she could better suck him off, she sighed in appreciation, and steadied herself by placing a hand on his hip before lowering her head up and down slowly.
 
Ver's tongue was more whipping inside her than licking. His fingers flicked over her clit and teased her overly swollen milky breasts as she repeatedly engulfed his entire length.

Never had a female given such passion to him. He had to use every bit of self control to prevent peaking. Only when her own climax hit was it safe for him to release, and to drink her as well...then their future would be one.

Faster and yet faster, he suckled her sweet puss, aching to taste her, groaning at the sensations of her burning velvet mouth and demanding tongue. He groaned up, "Jess, when I cum, you must drink every drop."
 
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