Colleen's Faerie Lover

WARNING! AUTHOR'S NOTES APPROACHING!

Ho ho ho, friendly readers! This is my submission for the

Winter Holidays Story Contest 2022

. Please be advised that all characters in this story are over 18. Additionally, this story contains content tags such as huge cock, excessive cum, throat fucking, womb fucking, and cum inflation. If those aren't your jam, then let us part as friends. But if you're into it, read on! It's my great pleasure to present this silly, dirty winter fable!

AUTHOR'S NOTES CONCLUDED. MERRY CHRISTMAS, YA FILTHY ANIMAL.

~~~~~~

The door slammed closed behind Colleen as she fled from the cozy heat of a rustic cabin into the frigid winter air. It was like being dumped in an ice bath, for beneath her gray wool coat, which hung carelessly unbuttoned, she had on only a black mesh bodysuit and matching tights. Needless to say, her outfit did a very poor job at keeping her warm.

She'd barely had the presence of mine to don her boots, which crunched through the remains of yesterday's snow as she ran. A bitter wind sliced at her face. Colleen bit her lower lip hard, refusing to give in to the tears threatening to spill forth.

I won't give him the satisfaction,

she thought.

She fumbled her keys from her purse and unlocked the car, her trusty old four-door sedan, twenty years old and still going strong. Even as she started the engine, the rear view mirror revealed Bert following her out the door. He looked as handsome as the day she'd met him: football player's physique, manly beard, expressive mouth, dreamy blue eyes. A pang of grief twisted up her heart, mixed with something else as well: she still desperately wanted to fuck him. She probably always would.

It had been a bad fight.

Real

bad. As in, relationships don't come back from this one. The romantic weekend they'd planned at the cabin? Spoiled. Her goal of finally getting laid this weekend? Shattered. The life they'd spent the last year building together? Obliterated.

And he probably still thinks he's the victim,

she thought. Slamming the car into gear, she punched pedal to the metal, peeled out on the sleet-slick gravel, and sped away down the road. Bert was waving his arms, shouting for her to stop, to come back, to

be reasonable.

She was done being

reasonable.

Speeding down the winding country road, Colleen reflected on how things had gotten this bad. All she'd wanted was a normal sex life with a normal boyfriend. Was that so much to ask? When they'd met at the start of sophomore year, Bert had loved sex with her. He was always praising her ripe, curvaceous body, complimented of course by her intellect - she maintained a not-too-shabby 3.5 GPA. They were adventurous and generous with each other, doing kinkier things like roleplay and from time to time even -

gasp

- anal. She knew how to drive him crazy, and he was an expert at giving her toe-curling orgasms.

And there was an emptional connection too. He may have been a jock, but he had a sensitive side. Bert had happily joined in on Colleen's dorky pastimes like board games and the campus film appreciation club. Her sardonic wit made him laugh, and his easy confidence made her love him. While her main focus was studying history at Great Midwestern University (Go Rivermen!), she'd been excited by the life they'd been building together.

But that all changed when Bert suddenly started going to church more often and getting hung up on weird Catholic guilt. His confidence increasingly seemed line arrogance, and he never seemed to have time for her hobbies anymore. His comments about her appearance were often critical - it was clear he was thinking more about the rail-thin cheerleaders on the football field and less about her curvaceous figure. Sex came less and less frequently, until they got to the point where a full two months passed without any love. The romantic cabin getaway had seemed the perfect chance to rekindle things. It was the winter holiday from school, and they would be all alone in a rustic setting with a cozy fire burning in the hearth. She'd planned a nice meal and chosen an excellent bottle of wine. The lingerie had been picked out by her best friend Autumn, who had an eye for that kind of thing. It all should have worked

perfectly.

Colleen was even prepared to do something she'd never permitted a dude to do before: bust inside her raw. She had a serious fear of getting pregnant or catching an STD, so she always made guys wear condoms or spurt on her stomach.

But things had gone downhill after dinner. Bert, who was already acting distant, balked when he saw the mesh bodysuit and tights. He not only rejected her advances - he had the audacity to criticize her for wanting sex. He'd even used the word

whore.

And that, frankly, was the last straw.

Fuck him,

she thought.

Actually wait. No. Don't fuck him. Ever again.

The sun was going down, bathing the winding road in eerie twilight and obliging Colleen to switch on her head lamps. A smirk curled her lips as she thought about how Bert didn't know what he was missing out on. He might end up marrying some dumb, trad-Cath cheerleader with bleach-blonde hair, but there was no way she'd ever make him cum as hard as Colleen could. Colleen had a healthy appreciation for her own body, and was never short on male attention. She'd never be slim-thick, but she had a sexy, voluptuous figure that many of her friends envied. She'd been called "thicc" before - and even, at times, "juicy." Colleen didn't put much stock in any of those stupid labels, but she was proud of her unruly D-cup tits and her dynamite hips and booty. With her looks enhanced by curly red hair and a milky-pale complexion, compliments of her Irish heritage, she had never had any problem getting into bed with the opposite sex.

Until I met Captain Celibacy, that is.

A light dusting of snow began to fall, and Colleen turned on her wipers. Thinking about how close she'd come to finally breaking her eight-week dry streak, she ground her hips together involuntarily. The truth was, she still wanted Bert badly. She wanted to suck his cock until he was ready to burst and then get on her hands and knees while he plowed her madly from behind. She imagined telling him to take the condom off and explode inside her. Her breasts ached to be touched, nipples hardening beneath the mesh, and not just from the cold. Squirming in the driver's feet, she endured a steady, needful throb between her legs. If she could have masturbated and drove safely at the same time, she probably would have

Get your mind out of the gutter,

she scolded herself.

You can get off when you're safe in bed at Autumn's dad's house.

Her bestie's father owned a home out in this neck of the woods, a convenient place for a wealthy Midwest dad to get away for a long weekend to play poker and go fishing with the boys. Autumn was using it currently as a hideaway to finish her last paper of the semester, and that was where Colleen was headed. She hadn't texted Autumn before leaving the cabin, given what a hurry she'd been in, but she was sure her bestie would be happy to see her.

The snow fell in thicker waves, making it difficult to see the signs for the state highways as she navigated the twists and turns of the roads. She began to worry that she might have made a wrong turn, and was keenly aware of how foolish she looked sitting half-naked in the driver's seat.

Most of my clothes are either in my dorm or back at the cabin with Bert. Well, Colleen, it was a dramatic exit, but was it worth it?

The snow built into a serious flurry, and from there quickly crescendoed into a full-blown snowstorm. White clumps swirled thickly in the light of her headlamps, obstructing her view of anything even twenty feet ahead. She slowed the sedan to a crawl.

The weather report didn't say anything about this shit.

She weighed her options. At this point she was about halfway between the cabin and Autumn's dad's house. She'd surely be stunned to see Colleen pull up this late, in a blizzard, and wearing nothing but lingerie no less. But the other option was going back to Bert's prudish ass, and that was no option at all. So Colleen pressed on, into the blizzard.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

It would be an amazing story for her friends. She'd be telling the blizzard tale for months, and they'd all laugh about it when spring semester started. That's what she told herself, anyway, as she fought down the urge to panic.

The road was growing slicker by the second, the snow so thick around the car that it felt like being inside a narrow tunnel. Sticky white clumps fell heavy on the windshield. But she was making progress, foot by foot, mile by mile.

I can do this. I can do this!

Then the car died.

"No no no no no," she chanted as the engine sputtered piteously, gave a few final, heroic gasps, whined out a tragic death rattle, and then lapsed into silence. Her trusty old sedan, veteran of many road trips, was done for.

She was stranded in the middle of nowhere, and all she had was he purse, her coat, and a sexy outfit.

This is an all-timer Colleen. You're gonna catch hell from Autumn for this one. If you survive.

Her first thought was to call for help, but her phone service was so pitiful out here that the bars were practically negative. Next she considered just waiting out the storm inside the car, but the temperature inside the cab was already dropping precipitously. The final option, and the least attractive one, was getting out and attempting to walk to shelter. But the problem with that course of action was that Colleen couldn't see more than three feet in any direction, even with the light of her car's still-functioning headlamps. She hadn't heeded her dad's nagging advice to keep a flashlight in her glove box, so she'd be flying blind out in the blizzard.

I guess I'll take my chances in the car. Maybe someone will find me before I freeze to death.

She sighed, trying to calm herself with some breathing exercises, but it was a futil endeavor. The situation was looking quite dire indeed. Just as Colleen was beginning to despair, something outside the window caught her eye: a pair of lights dancing in the snowstorm. Two round, luminescent orbs hung suspended in air, bobbing to and fro in an almost playful fashion. She blinked and rubbed at her bleary eyes, but the lights remained.

Flashlights?

she thought.

But who would be out here this late? And are they dangerous?

Her situation was so desperate that she had to chance it. Cautiously, Colleen cracked the window. A flurry of snow instantly blew into the unsealed cab.

"Hello?" she called into the night. "Is anybody out there?"

She waited for a response until her teeth started to chatter. Then she rolled the window back up.

No response. If it was people, they would have heard me. But if it's not people... Well, what else could it be?

The strange lights never ceased bobbing a weaving, seeming to be no more than a few yards beyond her window.

I could get out and check them out. And if they're nothing, I'll get right back in. And if they're not nothing... well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

She mentally prepared herself for the cold, knowing she'd only have skimpy lingerie and a coat for protection against frostbite. Taking a deep breath, she opened the car door. A sudden blast of frigid air assailed her, spraying her unprotected face and legs with snow.

I regret this immediately,

she thought as she struggled from the car and slammed the door behind her.

"Hello?" she called again as she stumbled towards the lights. Her boots left deep imprints as she trudged through the fresh snow drifts. Battling the blizzard, Colleen managed to take a few more steps, until the lights were close enough to touch. She reach out, yet just as her fingers ought to have brushed them they danced away, moving back a few yards where they bobbed and weaved kust as energetically as before. The lights seemed close, as if she might brush them if she reached out. She growled in frustration.

It would have made sense to go back at that point. But she was tired, and frustrated, and passed off, and desperate. Something compelled her to reach for the lights just one more time. Steeling her nerve, Colleen bounded forward a few steps, her hands darting out to snatch at the lights. Just as before they slipped through her fingers, fluttering away merrily. She thought she could hear tinkling laughter riding the wind.

Her legs, covered only by a rocking pair of tights, which Bert hadn't appreciated, were practically frozen now. The gelid wind bit her to the bone. Her mind grew fuzzy as she wondered what to do. Glancing back over her shoulder towards the way she'd come, she was shocked to observe that she could not see the car at all, even with its head lamps on. All that lay behind her was a deep, foreboding gloom punctuated by drifts of thick snow.

Before her, however, the twin globes of light danced as invitingly as ever. They cycled colors now, fuchsia to indigo to viridian to magenta and back around again. They seemed to be beckoning her onward,

taunting

her even, and the sound of laughter came again on the wind.

Possessed by some kind of mania, Colleen let out a primal scream and began running in a burst of energy. Her hands held before her, she strove for the lights, but they were always just out of reach. Shadowy shapes swirled in the snow around her. The voice on the wind spoke softly now in a language she didn't understand, gently urging in a rhythmic chant.

Her footsteps slowed when she'd expended the last of her energy. She panted for breath, lungs burning, mind reeling, face numb.

Maybe I'll just sit down for a minute. Yeah. Good idea. Yeah.

She plopped her nearly nude bottom down in a soft bank of snow. Not even feeling the cold anymore, she lay all the way back, spreading her arms like a snow angel. Falling flakes alighted on her face. Her heartbeat slowed down, down, down. A blanket of snow covered her. Suddenly everything felt very warm.

Dimly she became aware of footsteps crunching through the snow nearby. As her vision grew blurry, she saw a figure loom over her. It was but a snow-shrouded silhouette with bright cerulean eyes that cut through the gloom.

"Who..." she muttered softly, but that was all she could manage.

A strong pair of arms lifted her off the ground, cradling her against a warm, solid chest. She sighed, feeling a reassuring heartbeat against her cheek. In the distance she could see the dancing lights once more, and beyond them, an earthen dome with many round windows and a door that stood invitingly ajar. A soft voice whispered foreign words, but she found them reassuring all the same.

Her heavy eyelids slowly shut. Sleep and exhaustion claimed her.

~~~~~~

There was a smell on the air like apples and cinnamon. A pleasing tenor voice sang happily. Downy-soft cushions and a heavy woven blanket enveloped her. Colleen opened her eyes.

She was in the oddest house she'd ever seen. It was so rustic that it made the cabin she'd rented with Bert seem like a modern marvel. Made up of a single enormous room, a crackling hearth blazed beneath a high vaulted ceiling. Hanging from wooden rafters that curled like living branches were herbs and vegetables of all kinds in many long strands. Situated around the edges of the house were many items of furniture carved from rich, dark wood. Shelves could be seen in many places, most of them overflowing with books, from ponderous thick-spined tomes and short, slender quartos, and everything in between. Tables and counters were adorned by many trinkets and oddities: crystal balls, polished animal bones, chunks of raw chalcedony and lapis lazuli, small hills of colored sand. In the center of the chamber was a circular area on a lower tier than the rest of the house, with cushioned benches surrounding a blazing hearth. Colleen lay on one of these benches, thick blankets piled atop her. Hanging above the hearth was a copper kettle. Stirring the kettle was a man.

He had a very pale, almost silvery complexion, looking almost silver in the firelight. With ears that tapered back into sharp points and wide, blue eyes set just a bit too far apart, he had an alien and otherworldly appearance. Yet she was more intrigued than unsettled by those details. His jaw was firm and masculine, his lips sensual and expressive. He was very tall yet not thin, a well-defined physique evident beneath his earth-toned jerkin. Lustrous silver-gray hair hung long and straight down his back.

Actually, now that Colleen had gotten a good look, she was forced to admit that this guy was

hot.

A bit weird looking, but she was no stranger to certain artworks from certain fandoms, and the otherworldly vibe held a definite allure.

Upon noticing that Colleen was awake and staring, the man broke off his singing. He smiled warmly, buy there was a mischievous sparkle in his deep, cerulean eyes. He said something in a foreign tongue, which was lilting and beautiful but utterly incomprehensible to her.

A greeting, maybe?

"Uh, hello," she said. "Did you bring me here? Is this your... house?"

He frowned, evidently not understanding her either. She decided to try again.

"I saw the lights outside my car." She made circles with her hands and mimed them bobbing through the air. "I followed them until I collapsed. Someone carried me. You?"

She gestured through her speech, hoping to get the point across. When she pointed at him he seemed to understand, and nodded, adding a few words in his own fair and lilting tongue.

"Well, thanks, dude. You saved my life, I think. I'm Colleen." She pointed to herself and said it again. "Colleen."

He smiled broadly and nodded, blue eyes twinkling. "

Colleen

," he repeated in his thick accent, seeming to savor the name on his tongue. "

Lughan

," he said slowly, pointing to himself. "

Aos sidhe

."

Aos sidhe,

she thought, recalling that term from one of Autumn's witchy books.

He's a... faerie? A fey?

She shook her head as if to clear it.

Unreal. I'm dreaming. I'm still in the car, freezing to death. This is the DMT hitting my brain before I die.

A long moment stretched on as Colleen stared slack-jawed at Lughan, which she assumed was his name. He looked back placidly, a faint smile on his fair lips, and tilted his head quizzically to one side. He seemed to be waiting for something.

If this is my brain creating one last fantasy before I die of exposure, then I may as well go along with it. Besides, it seems rude to leave this guy hanging.

"Oookaaay," she said at last. "Lughan. Sure. Great. Nice to meet you."

Lughan nodded, evidently satisfied. Taking up a long silver ladle, he drew put a measure of steaming caramel-colored liquid from the pot. He filled a pewter cup and handed it to Colleen. As she took it, Lughan enclosed her hands with his own, smiling warmly.

Drinking, Colleen tasted apples and honey in the cider-like substance. It was strong and nearly scalding as she swallowed, warming her throat all the way down. She felt invigorated, all thought of cold forgotten.

Lughan said something to her in his own language. She didn't comprehend it, but sensed a question in his intonation.

"I don't know how I got here," she replied, deciding to answer the question she imagined him asking. "My car died and I was about to freeze to death. I saw some lights outside and... hmmm." She paused, biting her lip pensively. "That was you, wasn't it?"