Page 65 of Perfectly Charmed Pixie

“It’s easy to get hung up on the whys of life. But their answers rarely offer the satisfaction you think they will. I like you, Parsnip. And I think you like me too.” Like was far too weak of a word, yet I couldn’t bring myself to give my feelings more weight.

“I do like you,” Parsnip admitted. “I like you more than I should.”

“Not possible.”

“But you like a lie, Vander. If you knew what I really looked like, you’d—”

“It wouldn’t change a thing, Parsnip. I promise.”

Byx would tell me I was being a fool, offering up so many promises.

“How can you promise something like that?”

“Easily.”

Parsnip inhaled, sharp and needy. “I don’t understand.” The words were weakly spoken.

“Understanding is often overrated too.” I twisted, the lovely tip of a pointed ear easily coming into range. Taking advantage of its proximity, I licked a long, flat strip up that ear.

The shiver and groan I got in return made the awkward position worth it.

“Feel good?” I asked, already knowing the answer if the firm cock pressing into my thigh was anything to go by.

“So good.”

“Do you want to feel even better?” It was a selfish request wrapped in altruism. I wanted to touch Parsnip. I wanted to feel every part of his body, hold his heavy shaft in the palm of my hand, feel the pulse of blood as it filled him.

Hushed silence lingered in the air until a faint “please?” nearly undid every ounce of self-control.

With a little manipulation and a slight shift in Parsnip’s position on my lap, I slid my hand from his charmed thigh to the thick length of his cock. It was a perfect piece of flesh that fit nicely within my large hand. Proportionate to the pixie, Parsnip’s plump shaft felt like it had been made just for me to hold, to cherish, to worship.

Parsnip’s breath caught as I stroked my hand up, coating my fingers with his pre-cum. Burying my face in the soft waves of Parsnip’s hair, I inhaled, taking my one and only’s incomparable scent deep into my lungs. Having made his obfuscation charm, I knew Parsnip’s scent was all his own.

“Tell me if I do something you don’t like,” I whispered into a delicately pointed ear. “I only want to give you pleasure.”

Parsnip panted. “S-so far all…good…oh…so good.” He started squirming, shifting his pert bottom across my lap as he rutted into my hand. I let him move as he wanted, wings fluttering and filling the air with a fine sheen of dust.

“That’s it.” I kept my voice low, tone soft. “Take what you need. Let it all go. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

The sound Parsnip made was somewhere between a moan and gasped sob. His hips moved faster, and he clung to me tighter. If he were stronger, I’d have bruises. As it was, Parsnip mostly had a hold of my shirt. I couldn’t have cared less if he shredded the thing right now.

My own cock rose to the occasion, painfully pressing against my pants. I wanted to shift, to unzip my pants and let myself free. I didn’t. This was about Parsnip’s pleasure, not my own. One day, hopefully soon, it could be about the both of us. But not tonight.

Parsnip wasn’t loud. His moans of pleasure were barely whispered puffs of air I had to strain to hear. That quiet cadence made them all the more precious, and I tucked each and every one away in my memory.

Time passed, yet I had no measure of it. Soon, Parsnip’s rhythm stuttered. Head thrown back, hair falling down his back, and wings stretched wide, Parsnip came with a silent scream. I gently stroked him through his aftershocks, his cock now flaccid within my cream-coated fingers.

Tension ran from Parsnip’s body, leaving him little more than a puddle of loose limbs. Folding his body into mine, he laid his head on my shoulder. Chest to chest, I felt the pitter-patter of his racing heart slow to a languid love song.

Pulling my hand free, I wiped it along the length of my pants. A trip through the washing machine would make them right as rain again. Hand somewhat clean, I wrapped my arms around Parsnip’s body, hugging him tight while I leaned back into my chair.

“Better?” I asked while tracing the edge of a wing.

“Hmm…so much better.” Parsnip yawned the last. Given that his head was tucked up into the crook of my neck, I couldn’t see his face, but I imagined his blissed-out, sleep-filled eyes.

Soft, rumbling laughter rolled through my chest, lightly shaking Parsnip. He didn’t even try to move.

“I think it’s time to put someone to bed,” I said while standing. Parsnip’s weight was next to nothing, making it easy to carry him up the stairs to my bedroom. When we got to the bed, I bent forward, depositing him on top of the covers.

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