Faerie Love

Dear Readers,

In response to various comments, I have revised and clarified "Faerie Love." I think the story may be a little better now than it was before, but of course, that is up to you. I don't know if there will be another installment. We'll see how it works out. I hope you enjoy this version of my story. Thanks, Oldguy45

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I was a graduate student when I moved into the downstairs apartment of a rambling old Victorian home with two stories and a porch that wrapped around the entire front of the house. I liked the fact that it had its own private entrance around back. A Mrs. Margaret Merryweather owned the house. She seemed nice enough, but a bit frumpy and grumpy, with stringy gray hair and the ungainliness that the elderly tend to get. I estimated her age to be in the 70s.

After extracting a promise from me that I would have no raucous parties or engage in smoking of any kind—"None of that marijuana, young man. I have a very keen nose!"—she rented the apartment to me for the duration of the school year for a reasonable price.

It was all good with me. I was a history major, and a studious one at that. I had few friends, and no girlfriend. My idea of a good evening was to drink a few beers and watch The History Channel or a baseball game.

I moved in on Friday, and by Saturday afternoon I was settled in and looking forward to starting classes on Monday. The beginning of school came and went, and pretty soon I was deeply involved with my studies.

It was about a month into the school year when I noticed my sinuses acting up. I've had allergies all my life. Usually, I just stake some Claritin or Sudafed and I'm good. So, one Saturday night in late September, I took a couple of Sudafed with a beer and watched TV until my head started to clear up.

There was a documentary about good old WWII on TV, so I watched it until I got sleepy, and trudged off to bed. I need to tell you something about Sudafed and me, though. For some reason, I have a hard time sleeping after I take it, and it usually makes me dream strange dreams. Sometimes they are even erotic.

I wore a tee shirt and boxer shorts to bed that night. And, the usual happened: a dreamy half-sleep chock full of strange dreams.

As I lay there semi-conscious, I became aware of a light through my closed eyelids. I opened my eyes and nearly had a heart attack. There, hovering in front of me about a foot or so away, was a faerie.

I was shocked and scared. My heart started beating very fast and I tasted the coppery taste of fear in the back of my throat. At the same time, I was sure that I must still be dreaming. But if this was a dream, it was a very real one.

After a while, I calmed down. My fear subsided and I got a good look at my visitor. She was female and about six or seven inches tall. She was raven-haired with oval, upturned, dark blue eyes and pointed ears. Her mouth was small but her lips were full. Her wings beat too quickly for me to see. They gave off a thrumming sound as she floated there. She wore a forest green shift that hung loosely from one shoulder and barely reached down to the middle of her thighs. She was barefoot, and surrounded by a faint, electric blue aura.

She was smiling as she hovered, regarding me closely. I felt my fear vanish entirely as I looked into her eyes. I reached up to touch her, but she backed away quickly. Her aura went through several color changes as she did do.

"Who are you?" I managed to say, still half-believing that I was dreaming.

She said nothing. Instead, she began flying in tight patterns, twisting and turning, leaving a trail of white crystals behind her. I realized a second later that she was writing. She stopped and hovered, looking at me and smiling. A word, presumably her name, hung in the air beside her. As I watched, however, it started to fall apart.

CLEFT was the word.

"Cleft? Your name is Cleft?" I asked.

She smiled and nodded, and a warming glow spread through me as she did.

Then she frowned. As I watched, Cleft rubbed her stomach. Then she flew to the bedroom door and hovered there. When I didn't react, she flew back over to me and back to the door, looking at me expectantly.

"Oh. Do you want me to follow you?" I asked. She nodded yes.

I got up sleepily and walked to my bedroom door. She sped ahead of me down the hall to the kitchen, her bright blue aura making her easy to track. Once in the kitchen, she went straight to the cupboard and hovered. I opened it and she danced around excitedly before landing on my jar of peanut butter. She pointed to the jar, then did a little leap and landed on my jar of honey, right beside of it.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

She nodded and rubbed her tummy again.

"Would you like some bread with honey and peanut butter on it?" I asked.

She once again flew in tight patterns and the word YES appeared in the air.

"Okay, let's make you some food."

I got out bread and spread peanut butter and honey on it. "I suppose you'll want a cup of milk as well," I said. She nodded then alighted on my shoulder as I prepare her meal, holding on to my ear with a tiny warm hand as she sat. My shoulder tingled where she sat, and a feeling of well-being came over me as I made her simple repast.

When I was done, I took the plate with the sandwich on it and the cup with the milk over to the table. I turned on the counter light and watched my little guest eat. She fell to with gusto, taking big bites, chewing with obvious relish, then lapping at the milk. I gave her a napkin, but she didn't use it. Pretty soon, her lovely little face was dripping with milk and honey. She developed a noticeable pot belly.

"You certainly were hungry," I commented.

She looked up at me and smiled, her cheeks bulging with food.

Finally, she'd had enough. She came over to me and put her face out to be wiped. I gently cleaned her. I couldn't help but notice how her breasts swayed beneath the material of her shift as she moved.

She yawned hugely (for such a little creature), and I said, "Would you like to go back to the bedroom? You look tired now that you've eaten." She nodded sleepily and flew to my shoulder. I felt her take hold of my ear. I heard a belch, then a tinkling little laugh.

I crawled back into bed and she got in beside me on the pillow. She stretched languidly, thrusting her pelvis forward. She closed her eyes and went fast asleep. I watched her for a moment. Her aura turned a soft, chalky blue. Then I fell asleep as well.

When I awoke the next morning, I was sure that I had dreamt the whole thing. I got up to pee and noticed that I still had an erection afterward. There was only one thing to do. I got back into bed and began masturbating. I tried thinking of the girls on the internet, of my old girlfriend, even of Jessica Alba. But nothing worked until I began thinking of Cleft. In my mind's eye, I saw her nude: the sway of her breasts, the small slit of her pussy, her eyes and hair. Suddenly I was cumming copiously. "Whew," I said out loud. It had all been so easy, so fast once I started thinking about her.

I put on a tee shirt and underwear and walked into the kitchen. The bread, honey, and peanut butter were still right where I'd left them the night before."Whoa," I said to myself. "Not only did I dream the entire thing, but I walked in my sleep as well."

I made coffee and sat down at the table, trying to reason it out. I had never walked in my sleep before. Why this time? Cleft's visit had been so vivid, so real. Just at that moment, I heard a soft knock at the door. I looked through the peephole and saw Mrs. Merryweather, my landlady, standing at the door.

"Just a minute!" I shouted. I put on some jeans and opened the door.

"Good morning, Mr. Johnson! Or may I call you Robert?" she said. Somehow, Mrs. Merryweather looked a little different, a little less frumpy. She had on housecoat, but it was a pretty blue one with flowers on it. Her hair had been done as well. The style could almost be called chic. She was holding a plate full of sticky buns.

"Uh, good morning, Mrs. Merryweather," I said. "Yes, you can call me Robert, if you wish, or even Rob."

"Robert will do nicely," she said, smiling. "I come bearing a gift. Do you like sweets?" She held out the plate.

"Yes ma'am, I do," I said.

"Good. Enjoy these then. I also wanted to know if everything was all right," she said.

"Everything is fine," I said, taking the plate from her. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. Well, goodbye, Robert," she said, and left.

I ate a couple of buns, drank two cups of coffee, and went to my ten o'clock class.

Nothing happened for the next couple of nights. I went to work at my part-time job at the video store and came home. But on Friday night, I was awakened again by the bluish light. I opened my eyes to see Cleft floating in front of me. This time I'd taken no drugs. I was not dreaming, and so I was really afraid. I laid there in bed, too scared to move. Cleft was looking at me questioningly, as if to say, "What's the matter?" After a while, she did a funny little dance for me. She pranced and flew in tight little circles. She looked like she was singing, but all I heard were lilting sounds that I could not understand. I had to laugh. I was no longer afraid. Finally, she stopped and looked at me, smiling. She rubbed her tummy again.

"Are you hungry?" I asked. What a dumb question. No wonder I didn't have a girlfriend.

She shook her head yes and flew to the door, waiting for me. I wearily got up and followed her to the kitchen. I still couldn't believe what was happening, but my fear had abated. She seemed to hold no danger.

The sticky buns Mrs. Merryweather had given me were on the counter, covered in clear plastic wrap. Cleft hovered over them. "Is this what you want?" I asked. She nodded her head eagerly and flew in a tight circle. I pulled one apart, put it in the microwave, and warmed it up for her. The smell filled my little kitchen. Cleft smelled it too. She closed her eyes and sniffed deeply. I poured her a bowl of milk, set the bun and the milk on the table, and watched her eat. She sat cross-legged on the table and ate hungrily. "You really love that, don't you?" I asked. She nodded her head vigorously, smiling.

And so it went for several weeks. Cleft visited me several times a week, ate, slept beside me on the pillow and was gone in the morning. I came to look forward to her visits. On the nights she did not come, I wondered where she was. What sort of faerie business was she up to?

Of course, I never told anyone about her. I didn't have many friends anyway, and those I did have would never have believed me. Even to me it sounded insane. "Oh yeah," I could hear myself saying to the psychiatrist, "I have a female faerie friend who comes visiting. I feed her milk and honey and peanut butter, and we hang out." I would most certainly be institutionalized.

And then I wouldn't see her anymore.

Something told me that Cleft was linked to the place. Even if I left, Cleft would have to stay. I believed that she liked me, but it was because I was there, and I fed her, and didn't try to capture or harm her. I still hadn't learned faerie language, but we managed to communicate. Sometimes I caught her looking at me intently. I would smile and ask, "What?" and she would blush prettily and fly around a little before alighting on my shoulder.

Did I tell you that she liked TV? Situation comedies mostly, and old reruns of "I Dream of Jeannie" especially. She enjoyed watching me play my Harry Potter video games. She sat on my shoulder and I could hear her high-pitched laughter and chirps in my ear, as if she was commenting on the action.

One evening, Cleft and I were in my apartment having dinner—microwave for me, peanut butter and honey for her—and I was drinking a beer. She kept hovering around it, sniffing at it. "Would you like some?" I asked. She nodded.

I poured a little into her bowl, and she sipped it. At first she made a face, but she kept on drinking. After a while, I noticed a change in her. Her pretty little face got red, and her eyes looked a little bit bleary. She tried flying in her usual tightly controlled circles, but she was a bit sloppy. I realized that my little friend Cleft was tipsy. I took the bowl away and said, "That's enough for you, young lady." She protested and tried to hang onto the bowl, but I took it and poured the beer into the sink. She folded her arms across her breasts and looked at me crossly. Then she smiled a little crookedly and flew up to my face and kissed me on the lips. As she did, warmth spread through my whole body. She alighted on my shoulder. I felt her lean on me and grip my ear. She chirped a few times and we went into the living room to watch TV. A few minutes later I heard her snore. Have you ever heard a faerie snore? Well, neither had I. It sounded a bit like a kitten's cry.

I watched television for a while, until I felt her stirring. She took off and hovered in front of me. She held her head and I said, "Ok, a little hung over are we? Well, you'll sleep it off soon enough. Let's go to bed." I held out my hand and she settled gratefully into it. I carried her close to my chest, put her on the pillow, and undressed for bed. She was already asleep.

Later that night, when the house was quiet and dark, I woke up to her bluish light. She was hovering front of me, looking at me and smiling. She looked different this time, though. More serious.

She closed her eyes and flew towards me. I could hear the thrumming of her wings and feel the soft puffs of air against my cheeks. I closed my eyes too, as I felt her hand on my cheeks and her tiny little lips press to mine. I felt her kiss and the feeling of warmth and excitement spread through me. I opened my eyes a little. Her aura was changing color, taking on a pinkish hue. She broke the kiss and drew back, then flew forward again to kiss my eyes and nose.

And then, hovering in front of me, Cleft performed an air dance. It was an ancient, yet timeless dance, perhaps one that she had performed before many times. She twirled and pirouetted, strutted and pranced. She never took her eyes from mine, and I could not stop watching her. Her eyes were warm and smiling, then pleading, then challenging. Her movements were sometimes slow and erotic, then rapid, leaving brightly colored trails in the air. While she danced, she sang a song composed of chirps and trills, with an occasional low growl. Although I could not understand the words, I understood the meaning. Cleft was wooing me.

She reached behind her, undid something, and her green shift fell off in a small pile. She was now nude. Without a trace of embarrassment, Cleft took a stance and displayed her body for me to see.

She was perfectly proportioned. Slender calves and thighs, a lean belly, small round breasts. She smiled and did a little pirouette for me, allowing me to see her perfect little butt. She bent over and spread her little buns for me. I could clearly see her tiny sex. Her hair was down and floated freely about her shoulders. She looked into my eyes the entire time, smiling a little.

Cleft's vagina was covered by a neat little bush of black hair.

For my part, I was totally entranced. For several moments, I did not breathe. Cleft's beauty, her grace, her sensuality held my attention completely. I felt emotionally drawn to her in a way I had never felt before, for anyone.

She stopped dancing and hovered in front of me. She bowed slightly from the waist, laughed a little tinkling laugh and flew down and kissed me. She walked up my chest to the edge of the blanket. She knelt down and took it in her hands. Her wings thrummed, and she rose into the air, taking the covers with her. She flew backwards, pulling the covers down all the way past my boxers. She dropped the covers, grasped my boxers, and (with my help) pulled them down as well. I helped her by lifting my butt off the bed. Hey, I'm no idiot. Guys like me don't get their shorts pulled down by beautiful six-inch-tall women very often. She was surprisingly strong, and her wings beat furiously as we worked the shorts down.

So there I was, naked from the waist down, while my nude faerie friend hovered over my crotch. Needless to say, her kisses had inflamed me, and my cock was fully erect. Cleft flitted up to my face again and we kissed some more. She hovered, looking deeply into my eyes, and I looked into hers. For the first time in my life, I saw desire in a woman's eyes.

She moved back down and alighted on my cock, straddling it. She sat upright and began thrusting against the shaft, rubbing her wet little pussy on me. Closing her eyes, she concentrated, straining for her pleasure. Her mouth dropped open and she seemed transported. I could feel myself start to leak. Her strong, lithe little body felt wonderful! As she moved on me, it felt like the most exquisite handjob I'd ever had. I could hear her quiet chirps and whimpers, and then she tensed, moving faster and faster until she trembled and fell forward, still thrusting weakly. Cleft raised up and looked at me, her eyes half-closed in satisfaction, then she leaned forward again, wrapped her arms around my cock, and began kissing and licking the sensitive area just below the head. She rubbed her face against my shaft and head in abandonment.

"Ahh!" I groaned as the sweetest of all the sweet sensations in the world coursed through me. I could feel Cleft's active little tongue and lips traveling all around the head of my cock while she held me tightly against her. She rubbed her breasts against me, making little mewing sounds as her own excitement escalated. For a moment, she raised up again, working her little cunt against my shaft, thrusting her pelvis with abandon, before dropping down to suck and lick at the bulbous head of my cock. The ebony waves of her long hair added another sensation as she concentrated on me, leaving little wet trails all over my cockhead. Once again she tensed and trembled, but this time she did not let up. Instead, she kept working for my orgasm. Pre-cum was pouring out of me, and Cleft dipped her hands into it, smearing it on my cock, her face and breasts. She leaned down, embraced me tightly, and began riding my cock like a horse. By this time, I was groaning, my arms thrown out to my sides as my faerie lover rode my ready-to --burst member to climax.

It was finally time. I looked up to see Cleft gazing at me intently, thrusting with her pelvis and bending down to lick. "Oh baby! Oh Cleft!" I gasped, and suddenly I came, and hot streams of semen erupted from my cock, splattering all over my belly and chest. Cleft rode on, milking me for every drop, and it seemed like I spurted for hours. The feeling was the most intense I'd ever experienced, beating even the few times I had actually had sex. Finally I gasped, "No more," and she stopped, reluctantly it seemed. She crawled forward on my cock, kissing as she went. There was a pool of cum right at the head. I saw her dip two fingers in and lick them off. She looked at me, a tiny drop of semen on her chin, and smiled.

During our encounter, Cleft's aura had changed from blue to pink to red and, at the moment of her climax, a bright blazing purple. It was now blue fringed with pink. We were both breathing heavily. Tiredly (or so it seemed) her wings began beating again. She flew up beside me on the pillow. I held the covers open for her, and she gratefully slid down beside me, demurely folding her wings as she did so. I turned on my side, carefully placing my arm over her. She snuggled down close to my chest. We fell asleep together.

The next morning, as usual, Cleft was gone. I laid there in bed, marveling at what had happened the night before. I was being courted by a faerie! A faerie! They weren't even supposed to be real, and yet it was really happening to me! I absolutely could not tell anyone. I mean, how do you say, "There is a faerie in my house, and we had sex together," and not sound crazy? And I wasn't crazy. This was really happening. I just had to keep my mouth shut.