Chapter 14: Danielle Again
"The Central Park?"
"There are lots of 'em but, yeah, this is the one you're thinking of," answered Olivia.
I looked around us. There wasn't much to see but rock walls, some scruffy bushes and, near the end of a little inlet, a narrow stone stairway up. It wasn't particularly tidy for a city park, and no skyscrapers were visible—but to be fair I'd never been here before to say they should have been. "And your centaur pals, Les and Clara, are around somewhere?"
"Clarissa," she reminded me. "She's the redhead. Anyway, I think they're here—but they'll be regular folks. They need to be on the other side of the portal to become centaurs."
As it happened, on this side of the door from Oli's fantasy world I was still a black Pegasus, while my adoptive siblings Oli and Gracie remained bare-assed, two foot tall fairies—all of us winged. I flapped one of mine in what I felt was a questioning way.
"Unless you or I are with them, obviously ... or maybe Grace." Even Oli wasn't sure how much magic her up-until-yesterday mother had taken on board over the years.
"Right," I said doubtfully. I couldn't help noticing that just now Gracie failed to look the part of a Fantasy Facilitator—however low a bar I myself may have provided—give that she was encumbered by her own fat cock, which she'd recently doubled back into her cunnie until it projected from her mouth. This, of course, was counter to the tenets of physiology—and probably physics. It also hampered her speech: "Ooocgle!" she said, which we took to refer to our new surroundings, but may just have been an exclamation of pleasure.
The two of them held hands and fluttered off to find Oli's friends. I made ready to follow them, but space was too tight for me to fully spread my wings. The little staircase was a non-starter, so I tried to re-position myself for lift off. And that's when I felt a tickle in my pussy. Not a lustful one ... well, not entirely. I hadn't had an orgasm for half an hour, after all, and was getting restless.
I swung my head around to get a look back there, just in time to see a faerie struggle out of me—one of the eight-inch beasties Oli claimed would vanish in the real world. She flapped wildly, but her wings were crumpled and her body completely coated with my inner juices. She hung impossibly in the air for a moment like a cartoon character, before landing in a heap behind me.
"Hitching a rude ride, were we?"
"It's not funny. That hurt," she said with a sob.
Well, aside from the fact that I'd trample her flat if I tried to fly out of there, I could hardly leave the weeping little creature behind now that we were acquainted. The solution was to transform back to myself (that is to say, the improved and tattooed Pirate Wench version of me).
The faerie gasped when I changed; which was odd, given what passed for normal back where she was from. She'd only just spoken with a flying horse, for fuck's sake. I picked up the poor cum-slimed thing and held her tight between my boobies, crooning some long forgotten lullaby (so sue me).
When I started to lick her clean she asked, with a piping snuffly voice, "What day is this?"
"Tuesday. Probably," I guessed.
"No—I mean, what date?"
"Sorry, but what do you care? It's not like it matters, in there." It occurred to me that Olivia claimed to be the creator of the fantasy behind the doorways, so I elaborated. "Back in Oliwood."