by Selena Kitt
Jack turned to Kale and began to take the other fairy’s flesh in, having learned very quickly exactly what to do.
“Do not forget me, brute.”
Jack tried to work Brey’s manhood with his left hand, but it was too difficult while ever he was sucking on the lance before him. Brey slapped Jack’s hand away.
“There is only one way we will achieve this, beast.”
Already on his knees, Jack sensed Brey kneeling behind him. Distracted by the strange feeling of having a male inside his mouth, Jack didn’t at first realize what was about to happen.
He felt Brey’s long finger, wet with spit, press against his fundament. To cry out in protest would be a sign of weakness, and Jack suspected that would only excite these fairy men further. He reconciled what was to come by picturing Lucy in his place. Indeed, he fully intended to pass on all his new learning to her when he got her home.
In truth it was not an unpleasant feeling to have a slender finger nudging into him, and he had used that hole all his life, after all…other than the direction of motion, what difference was there?
Very soon, Jack knew exactly the difference. Brey’s lance was smooth and slender, reflective of the fairy male himself, but was still much larger than a finger.
Jack groaned, more from surprise than pain, as Brey drove himself deeply into the untried cavern. It hurt, most assuredly…but in the same way as alcohol stings on a cut. It was a necessary pain, and it created warmth that would smooth the sharp edges off any further soreness.
Brey and Kale began to work in harmony, pressing forward and drawing back in unison, pumping Jack as if he were a sailor’s squeezebox. The motion became rhythmic, like a cradle being rocked, and Jack found himself warming all over.
Jack squeezed his eyes closed as fingers burrowed into his hips, mimicking the lances that were digging into his body. Never had he felt so powerless.
Suddenly Kale grasped Jack’s head and thrust two, three, four times, so deeply that Jack could barely breathe. Behind him, at the same moment, Brey grunted heavily. The two fairy males pulled noisily from either end of Jack’s body and rose gently on their downy wings, their juice bursting from their lances and gushing onto the grass.
Jack drew in a long breath and tried keep from collapsing. He had always believed that pleasing a man in bed was as simple as laying back and letting him have away at you. He looked across to Lucy and considered their time together, years where he had never gone without his desires being fulfilled. Of course, ’twas true she had had only one male to contend with. He took pride in his strength, having proved once again that men were the superior beings.
His efforts suddenly weighed heavily on him, his elbows and hips loosening as he fell to the grass. He felt himself drifting away when the Queen’s voice cooed into his ear again.
“Farmer Jack. That was but the second test. There is little more than an hour until daybreak. You must prepare yourself.”
Jack dragged himself to his feet, his lips stiff with grim tension, his manhood stiff with relentless provocation. “After what I’ve just done, Queen, I am ready for anything.”
With a surprising tenderness, the Queen placed her hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You do not know how wrong you are, boy.” She switched her attention to a small gathering of fairies at the edge of the meadow. “Laika, Kyrna and…Triskelle. Here, now.”
Three fairy maidens disentangled themselves from their various partners and flitted across to kneel at their Queen’s feet. The Queen touched each on the head in turn and they stood fluidly.
“I have chosen you three for this creature’s final test. Do not disappoint me.” She turned her cold green eyes to Jack. “Do you think yourself ready for your final test, farmer?”
Scanning the tall and slender fairy maidens before him, Jack hesitated.
“Am I to…to bring each of these maids to that same plateau that you reached?”
The Queen’s laughter was less cruel this time. “No, brute. Their pleasure is not your concern. You shall learn the art of endurance.”
“Endurance? I am to…keep my juice?”
“Poetic as always, but yes. There is but an hour until daybreak. You must last until the first slice of sunlight catches the tops of those trees. No matter what is done to you.”
His lance already bellowing for release, Jack doubted he could withstand the attentions of a bearded nun for more than a minute, let alone three of the most comely lasses he’d ever set eyes upon.
The Queen clapped her hands twice and the maidens, Laika, Kyrna and Triskelle, floated across to him.
The young farmer glanced from one to the next in quick succession. Their hair was red, like their Queen’s, though not quite so vibrant, and it tumbled in gentle curls over their wings and shoulders, reaching to the bottoms of their tender breasts. Save for the Queen herself, they were the most beautiful lasses he had ever seen, easily as tall as himself and with slender limbs and pale, faultless skin.
Triskelle spoke first, her voice as musical as a mountain stream. “This shall be so easy.”
Laika continued. “Oh, yes. The work is already done. He is beginning to weep.”
Jack touched his cheeks, wondering if that were true, but found them dry.
Kyrna knelt before him. “No, not there, farmer.” Her mouth felt like damp silk as she drew his pole inside it, sliding it back out with a comical popping sound. “There.”
Jack clenched his hands into hammers and beat at his own thighs, trying to put from his mind the sensations of pleasure that threatened to end his challenge. He thanked his God as Kyrna stood up without feasting further on his manhood.
Laika pressed in against Kyrna. “How did he taste?”
Kyrna licked her lips and closed her eyes. “Raw. Beastly.”
“Mmm. That sounds…naughty. May I?”
Laika slipped her pink mouth over Kyrna’s and kissed her with the slow tenderness of a flame melting a candle. Their tongues, even pinker than their lips, curled over each other and danced like smoke.
Jack felt his skin growing tight all over his body as the two maidens embraced before him. He was aroused beyond any point he could have imagined, but took comfort that while ever they were embracing each other, they were not touching him. It was a very cold comfort.
As he watched, Kyrna pulled her lips from Laika’s and swept her tongue down the other maiden’s willowy throat, stopping only when she had the cherry of Laika’s nipple between her teeth.
Jack groaned with desire, then grunted with shock as Triskelle curled her long arms around him from behind, pressing her palms against his chest and her breasts against his back. Her sweet breath, an intoxicating floral scent, gushed through his hair.
She swept her hands down until she had one on his prong and one around his sack. Her skin had the softness of a baby lamb’s ears, her hands the same steely strength as the rest of her kind. She squeezed, just softly, and it stole the breath from Jack’s chest.
He ground his eyelids together, trying in vain to remove from his mind the image of Kyrna suckling sweetly on Laika’s breasts. When he opened them again the maids had dropped to the soft, cool grass and Laika was delving her tongue into Kyrna’s navel. Kyrna’s moans were like birdsong and they grew in volume as Laika slipped her mouth down to tickle at the pink velvet between her lover’s thighs.
Just as Laika’s tongue slipped into the juicy slit before her, Triskelle released Jack’s rod, for which the farmer again thanked God. His respite was short-lived, though, as the supple maiden flitted around in front of him and pressed her breasts against his mouth.
In his frenzied state, Jack couldn’t resist the temptation, and he drew Triskelle’s raw pink nipple into his mouth, gnawing at it like a dog gnaws at gristle.
“Ohh…” Triskelle’s voice was even more musical as she moaned. “You truly are a beast, farmer…ohh…” She twirled her long fingers into his hair and held him against her, then pushed his face skyward so she could kiss him. “Mmm�
��you do taste coarse.”
She flitted aside and allowed Jack to once again watch Kyrna and Laika. He felt an almost physical jolt as he watched Laika devouring her companion. Where there had been the tenderness of a candle flame there was now an inferno of tongue, lips, teeth and fingers. Jack tried to look away, fearing he would shoot his juice simply by watching.
Triskelle hovered, her back to the aching farmer as she, too, watched her fellow fairies. “Mmm…how does that feel, Kyrna?”
“Ohh…it feels as good as when you do it, Triskelle.”
Jack moaned again. Hearing him, Triskelle looked over her shoulder, a sly smile curling her beautiful mouth. She lit before him, just inches between her wingtips and the farmer’s body. She made sure she did not impede his view of the two maidens as they made love.
“Are they not beautiful, beast?”
“Uhhh…aye…”
“Do you not wish to join them?”
“Uhhh…aye…”
“Or would you perhaps rather…join me?” She allowed her wings to spread slowly, revealing her long, toned back, all soft muscle and snowy skin.
To Jack, it could not have been more arousing had she been drawing her thighs apart to reveal her feminine glory. The fluid motion, and the gentleness with which she controlled her strong wings, left his throat clutching for air to breathe and sounds to make.
He turned his attention back to Laika and Kyrna, who had rolled a little closer to him. Now Kyrna was on her hands and knees and Laika was resting on her wings, still delving her tongue into the silken slit of her lover. The beautiful roundness of Kyrna’s bottom was pointing directly toward him, and he felt his pole quiver like a divining rod, aching to delve into the moisture it had found.
He jumped again with shock as something began to caress his manhood. He looked down to find Triskelle on her knees before him, still watching her companions, while the feathered tips of her wings stroked lightly up and down the length of Jack’s rod.
He had thought her skin soft, but he had nothing in his life’s experience to compare with the softness of her wings, the downy feathers seeming to move like tiny fingers, each pressing and releasing, clutching and biting, drawing ever more blood into the already straining flesh.
He feared he would be finished, and he pulled back. He recalled the rules as the Queen had said them. He had to resist shooting. Nowhere had she said he must involve himself with the maidens at all.
Sensing his determination, Triskelle dropped into a crawl and swayed across the grass to plant her mouth in the moist heat of Laika’s ripe orange bush. For what was probably a minute, but felt to Jack like an hour, Triskelle’s tongue drew hearty moans from Laika’s throat, moans which quivered against Kyrna’s quim.
Her face covered with Laika’s wetness, Triskelle looked back over her shoulder at Jack.
“Are you sure you do not wish to join us?”
He wanted it beyond wealth, beyond power, beyond all the sheep in Scotland, but he had to stand firm. He coughed out a grunt of frustration, his rod slapped against his belly and he wondered how he could stand any firmer than he already did.
He eyed the lightening sky. His farmer’s experience told him he had at most a quarter hour until the final test was won. He turned back to the writhing maidens, unable to resist the splendor of their love-making.
The Queen floated in beside him, also watching the maidens intently. She only whispered, but it was as clear as a shout.
“Farmer, we have had none who has lasted so long before.”
“I told you I am strong. I am growing tired of this now.” He tried to sound convincing.
The Queen’s laughter blew the bravado from his heart. “Do you really think we have done all we can?”
Before he could answer, she again clapped her hands twice. The three maidens uncurled from each other with a series of delicious sucking sounds. Kyrna flew across and landed straight before Jack, immediately drawing his hardness deep into her mouth. Triskelle rolled onto her back and Laika flowed like honey over her body until they each could drink from the other’s flower.
Not content with simply suckling at Jack’s prong, Kyrna embedded her teeth into the fleshy tube and began pulling back on it. Fearing the strength in her jaws, Jack allowed himself to be drawn along until he stood within a desperate, searching arm’s length of all three gorgeous maidens.
Slipping his spear from her lips, Kyrna began to bark out orders. “On your knees, brute!”
Jack fell instantly, his rod resting between the upturned cheeks of Laika’s heavenly derriere. He jolted as Triskelle took his satchel into her mouth and gnawed lightly.
“Put it in her!” Kyrna grasped Jack’s moist rod and pointed it at Laika’s quim. With all his might, the young farmer tried to resist, but Kyrna pushed him forward until his lance was dipped deeply into the boiling heat of Laika.
He could resist no more, and grasped the young fairy’s hips, thrusting like a ram on heat. Triskelle’s tongue danced all over his sack and he turned his face to the sky to bellow with pleasure.
His roar was cut short as Kyrna planted her velvet flower down over his mouth. He opened his eyes to see her hovering on her wings, her thighs wrapped around his head and her lip squeezed between her teeth.
Lucy called out to her man. “Remember, love, you do not have to finish them. You only have to avoid finishing yourself.”
He pulled his mouth free for an instant. “If I finish them, though, they’ll not have time to get their steam back before daybreak.”
Lucy sighed heavily and shook her head. “Oh, husband. Has this night taught you nothing? I fear it matters not whether you win or lose.”
Jack had no time to ponder her words. He bit insistently at the hard little lump at the peak of Kyrna’s lips and slid his tongue all over the softness around it. In seconds he felt her thighs grip him as the Queen’s had done and suddenly she burst upward like ocean spray and twirled across the meadow, humming with the release of climax.
“Right,” said Jack. “One down.”
He continued grinding his hips against Laika’s rump, sensing in her a quake which had nothing to do with fear. The heat of her body rose, bringing a scent of pollen and honey with it.
A moment later Laika popped off the end of his prong like a cork from a bottle, and flew upward, entwining with Kyrna in a sensual embrace. He watched as the two maidens caressed each other’s wings and body. The cold night air bit into his soaking wet rod and he drew comfort from it, hoping it would suppress his climax.
Triskelle rolled onto her front and took in the deep sensual aroma of his lance, coated as it was in the nectar of Laika’s womanly flower. Her huge green eyes looked up into his and she smiled archly.
Jack stood up and glanced at the sky. Less than five minutes remained. He was nearly done. A heavy flapping sound drew his attention to Laika and Kyrna, who landed beside Triskelle and formed a wall of temptation.
The maidens looked at each other and seemed to reach an unspoken agreement. Triskelle swept her tongue all the way along Jack’s manhood, from root to tip, then, as if it were a piece of rock candy, she handed it across to Laika.
“My lovely, your flower tastes even better when ’tis mixed with beast,” said Triskelle.
Laika swirled her tongue all around the brazen dome of Jack’s rod, then passed it along to Kyrna.
“Hmm…but I taste better on your fingers, Triskie.”
Kyrna grabbed Jack’s rod with both hands, swooped them along its length and then licked her fingers. “You’re both wrong. What tastes so sweet is…victory.” She opened her mouth and poured Jack’s meat into it, clamping hard with her tongue and cheeks, her lips and fingers.
“Oh…God…help me…” Jack whimpered, and in a fleeting moment, he thought back on the night’s events. The things he had done tonight that he’d never even thought could be done. No wonder Lucy had warned him away! The wanton harlot wanted to keep this all for herself!
Suddenly, he di
dn’t care if he failed…he wanted never to leave this.
He whimpered and felt his bones shudder as the tension in his belly mounted.
Triskelle pulled away from him, leaving him anchored achingly close to the point of no return. His eyes shot open as if he’d been thrown from a horse.
“I think he’s about to come, girls.”
Triskelle lifted lightly from the ground and began to circle Jack’s body, sliding her wings and her infant-soft skin all over him. As her tight breasts buffeted his face, her hot quim slid across his hip. She circled and danced, pressing herself to every sensitive part of his body.
A moment later, Laika and Kyrna joined her, until there was barely an inch of Jack’s body that was not covered with heavenly flesh.
As they danced all over him, they took turns moaning smut into his ears.
“Oh, farmer…come on my breasts.”
“No, no, I want it on my face, brute.”
It was Triskelle who finally defeated Jack’s resolve.
“Oh, beast,” she hummed. “I need you to come in my mouth…please…”
The aching need in her voice, and the notion of filling her licentious mouth with his fluid drove Jack plummeting over the edge. He grasped his rod, ground it hard and roared with desire as he pumped his juice out into the meadow.
With the reflexes of frightened birds, the three maidens recoiled, no longer able to disguise their distaste.
“Eurgh. Didn’t he taste awful?” muttered Kyrna. The maidens flitted back across to their partners and slipped back into the warm embraces they had abandoned to do their Queen’s bidding.
In his post-climactic haze, Jack heard none of what was said. He collapsed onto his belly. His breath was raw in his throat, and he could barely lift his head. An elegant pair of feet landed on the grass before him.
“That is too bad, farmer. Look, if you can…the sun has just begun to kiss the trees. You had but a handful of seconds to last and you would have been free.”
When his breath slowed and his strength returned, Jack rolled into a sitting position.
