Far, far away in the less traveled parts of the woods, lived a naughty little pixie called Bluebelle. Bluebelle would fill her days gathering flowers, dancing with her many friends and of course, with mischief. She was a seductive little thing, with bright red hair, smooth creamy skin and eyes a shade of green that rivaled the costliest emeralds in the King's coffers. Being quite the social butterfly, when she heard of the summer ball scheduled for that weekend, she set about preparing herself for it with great zeal.
The first thing she decided that she needed for the ball was a new gown. Not one for the passé, she desired something not only flattering, but trendy. After careful deliberation, she decided on a delicate silver dress she had seen in town that would flatter her pretty wings and glint nicely against her rambling curls. She made her way to town and upon entering the shop, with lowered lashes and her head cocked to one side, she approached the shopkeeper.
"Kind Sir," she purred, "Pray tell, how much is that gown in the window?"
The shopkeeper, a handsome elf looked up from his newspaper to see a provocatively attired Bluebelle. Her breasts sat atop his counter, spilling out of her tight corset. He peered over his reading glasses at her. Noticing that she was bursting at the seams, his eyes lingered over her bosom for a spell before he answered.
"One shilling," A faint smile played across his lips.
"I'll take it!" Bluebelle bubbled.
Bluebelle reached for her purse and then carelessly let it slip from her grasp. She swiftly bent to pick it up, allowing a breast to tumble clumsily from its restraint. Pretending not to notice, she fished for the shilling in her purse as her tit enjoyed its new freedom. The shopkeeper flushed red, carrying on her charade. A leisurely search finally uncovered the shilling and Bluebelle handed it to the shopkeeper. He extended his arm to receive it. As he did, she grabbed his hand and planted it firmly upon her breast.
The shilling clattered to the ground forgotten.
The shopkeeper could not believe his good fortune. He groped her eagerly, kneading her chest until he popped out the other tit. With an exceedingly hard cock between his legs, he closed the shutters of his shop and lifted her onto his counter.
He laid Bluebelle on her back, climbed atop her and nestled his insistent cock between her soft, inviting breasts. Grabbing one in each hand, he shoved them together and rubbed himself in between. Bluebelle licked the head of his cock every time it emerged from her cleavage.
The elf was delirious with bliss.
After a while, he climbed off to throw her legs apart. Raising her skirts, he saw that she was bare underneath. Her pink, plump pussy glistened with fragrant moisture and inflamed, the elf proceeded to prod her with thin long fingers.
He quickly bent to lick it.
Bluebelle's pussy was as delectable, as it was aromatic. Taken aback by her marvelous flavour, the elf spread her vulva wide and tongued her hungrily until she dripped with sap. He made a meal of it, lapping enthusiastically, until her wetness smeared his cheeks and chin. When Bluebelle moaned and thrashed about under him, he took his cue and extracted his long, thin cock from his britches.
It took the better part of a minute, but eventually the elf was able to fully penetrate her exceedingly tight, sticky pussy. As the shopkeeper eased his cock in and out of her, it got tighter still. He groaned and grunted wildly at first, the pleasure being immense, but then struggled to maintain his well-paced strokes. Soon he was unable to move at all.
When he was reduced to a wiggle, Bluebelle wrapped her legs around him and squeezed tighter still until she came with a heated moan, squirming around on the elf's cock. Nectar coursed down her thighs and puddled in her shoes. When she caught her breath, she released her legs and pushed the elf to the ground. She sped from the store with her gown and a pair of shoes that she had had her eye on for weeks. By the time the elf had managed to struggle to his feet, all that remained was a trail of sticky footsteps that led to the loudly banging door.
The shopkeeper was very, very angry indeed, having been left so prematurely with a raging cock and no release in sight. In frustration, he kicked the shilling away as he stared down the road, watching Bluebelle disappear hurriedly around the corner.
Bluebelle, delighted with herself and her newly acquired items, hurried back to her home in the woods, laughing all the way. Inside her cottage, she stripped off her plain blue dress and tossed it aside. She tried on her new shoes and slipped the gown over her head.
"Simply splendid!" she said, delighted with her outfit.
Bluebelle twirled before her mirror admiring herself. She fluffed her hair and pouted at her reflection, turning to look at herself over her shoulder.
Bluebelle liked what she saw and she fluttered her wings and wiggled her rump. She lifted her gown over her hips and grasping her ankles, she bent down to admire her reflection through her open legs. Never one to wear undergarments, she studied her shaven pussy. The juicy pink lips gaped open, still moist from her encounter. Bluebelle spread her ass cheeks with both hands. First, she winked her asshole at herself, pushing it open and then closing it tight. Then she did the same with her pussy, fluttering the fleshy labia like her pretty gossamer wings.
Bluebelle was indeed a very capable pixie and she was extremely proud of her talents. Not wanting to crumple her gown, she straightened and carefully slipped it over her head and hung it in her closet.
The evening of the ball finally arrived and Bluebelle had spent the entire day pampering herself in preparation. Completely manicured, pedicured and cleanly shaven, she put on her most delicate pair of stockings and garters. She riffled through her chest of drawers until she found her tightest red corset. With great effort, she fastened it, then put on her gown and shoes and brushed her hair. When all was in place, she made her way to the waiting carriage.
In her typical flirtaceous way, she had made asked a palace footman called Charlie to transport her to the ball. Charlie was a vibrant young pixie, who had long admired Bluebelle from afar. Desperately wanting to impress her and perchance to sample her ample wares, he had quickly offered to borrow one of the palace carriages for the evening. Amidst a flowery declaration of love, he had informed her that a pixie of her standing should be transported to the ball in style befitting a princess. When Charlie arrived at the agreed hour, Bluebelle hopped inside the carriage and they sped away to the ball.
