Page 152 of Shroom for Improvement

“He is,” I agreed, and leaned down to kiss him again. His hand slid over my shoulder and down my back.

My very naked back.

“We should get dressed,” I suggested, suddenly conscious we were both nude in a semi-public field.

Sonny laughed and pushed to his feet. He took the hand towel from the bag of supplies and wiped the cum off his stomach, then he handed it to me.

We pulled our clothes on, occasionally sparing each other smirks and gentle kisses. Sonny only wore two items of clothing, besides his socks and trainers. My PJ pants with the trains printed on them, and his adorable hoodie with the hood up. No underpants. He was dressed in seconds. He turned to me and began buttoning my shirt. His mouth was on mine before he’d made it halfway.

“So, what happened while I was asleep?” Jenny said, not caring I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, answer it. “Hey, why is Sonny here and not with his precious Dr Science-Book?”

I ignored Jenny. Carried on kissing Sonny. Threaded my fingers into his.

The sun had now fully risen, painting the sky with its golden-coral glow. The birds had realised the end wasn’t nigh, and had somewhat toned down their cacophonous cheering. We stood side by side, Sonny’s arm over my shoulder and mine around his waist, and watched the morning roll in. Watched the clouds drift languidly over Stinkhorn Manor. Watched the colours of the sky shift from orange to pink to lilac and eventually to blue. Watched the butterflies and bees and birds gorge themselves silly on the overabundance of wildflowers. Themammals—from tiny mice to majestic deer—visiting the newly created paradise.

“Don’t answer me then, fine!” Jenny huffed several times.

I didn’t. Because I had forever to catch up with the house.

But even forever with Sonny wouldn’t be long enough.

I thought back to the day at the pool when we watched the sunset together—and now we had this incredible sunrise—and how lucky we were to share such beautiful skies.

Or maybe the skies were more beautiful because he was the one sharing them with me.

Maybe everything was better, easier, prettier with Sonny by my side.

“How’s your... down there area?” I pointed to his ass. As much fun as it had been at the time, I understood Sonny had a little more recovering to do than me.

“Squelchy, but fine. Not sore. Are you hungry?”

I laughed at how his mind had immediately connected those two things. My stomach answered his question by groaning loudly.

He rolled the duvet up and wrapped his arms around it, ready to carry it inside. It was damp from the morning dew. In its absence, flowers sprang up like little jack-in-the-boxes. I hooked my arm around Sonny’s waist and we began strolling back to the house, avoiding trampling the flora and fungi as best as we could.

“Weird that all this magic came from my balls,” I said, dodging a baby oak tree I was certain hadn’t been there earlier.

Sonny barked out a laugh. “Not to me. Makes perfect sense to me.”

“Will you be able to write about this in your paper? Fuck! Your paper! What’s going to happen with that?”

“Well, my meeting’s supposed to be this afternoon.” He checked his pocket watch. It was five a.m. “I expect we’ll be sound asleep by then. At least I’m planning to sleep.”

“So, they won’t print your article?”

“It’s unlikely, but it’s okay. This was so much more important. I’ll have other opportunities to publish,” he said.

“But your ideas would have such wide-reaching consequences. You could help heal the Eight and a Half Kingdoms.”

Sonny nodded, his expression sombre. Or, not sombre, but not his usual toothy grinning self. “Now that we know what the magic is, it’s going to be difficult to write about. Not only because of the law rendering us silent, but because it’s just an awkward thing to talk about. Because, I dunno, it feels sort of taboo. And I’d need to do some research to find out if the same glamour would work elsewhere, or if it’s something particular to Stinkhorn Manor. You know stinkhorn mushrooms are known in folklore for being aids to fertility, so it makes sense the ritual would bejsssuuuuuuufffff.”He cleared his throat. “But what would the ritual involve if, say, the shroom fae were elf caps?”

“Well, I’m glad we don’t have to figure that one out,” I offered.

“Right.” He was smiling again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And the other thing I need to research is if your...” He avoided saying the word because we both knew he wouldn’t be able to get it out, anyway. “Would have any potency outside of Stinkhorn grounds. So, does it have the potential to help people in the way we think it might? And even if it does, how exactly could we... bottle it”—he gave me an apologetic look—“so that it’s accessible on a mass scale?”

“Yeah, I hadn’t thought about that.” I suddenly understood the devastated expression on Sonny’s face. It wasn’t like I could hook myself up to a milking machine. Well, I could. Iwas sure I’d enjoy it for a little while, at least. But that would not be a long-term, or even short-term solution. One man couldn’t ejaculate enough to save an entire planet. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’ve witnessed a miracle today. Not just witnessed it, but have been part of it. Basically, the kind of glamour I’ve been dreaming about my whole life. And it’s all thanks to you.”

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