Andrew Cleese and Ms Lyon

by Kelly, Sahara

  When it was gone, she slumped back onto her pillow with a whoosh of relief. What the hell was happening, she didn't know, but suddenly she had a mortal terror of irate furry critters. Her skin chilled at the thought of taking on a full-sized chipmunk, claws and all.

  "Hey, beautiful."

  Oh God. What now? Realizing she'd closed her eyes, she opened them again.

  And there he was, Andrew, her dinner date, looking quite different than he'd done the night before. Or whenever it had been. She tugged the sheet up to beneath her chin and stared at him.

  His face was the same. His hair was tousled now - a look she found appealing. Or would have done under other circumstances, of course. His smile was every bit as attractive and still made her itch in places she absolutely was going to ignore. No, she wasn't going to squirm, no matter how heated her girly parts became.

  His clothing, however...well that had changed a lot. Now he was in a loose robe, almost Middle Eastern in style. It was secured by a thick cord and from each end various golden trinkets dangled, looking like those rune things she remembered from a magazine layout of medieval costumes.

  The outfit was deep crimson and it made his skin look warm and inviting. He seemed relaxed, comfortable - quite at home in garb that would've rendered most men rather self-conscious. But not Andrew.

  He was simply smiling down at her as if he hadn't a care in the world.

  Damn him to hell.

  "You drugged me. Where are we?" She glared at him, furious now that he was there to receive her wrath. "There are laws against this kind of crap. It's called kidnapping and it's a federal offense."

  His lips curved more fully as he chuckled. "And you'll press charges, of course?"

  "Bet your ass, mister." She fumed. "I'm naked, someplace I don't know, been brought here without my permission, and I'm having rodent hallucinations. If that isn't kidnapping, I don't know what is."

  "And are you restrained? Tied up? Blindfolded?" He paused and lifted an eyebrow. "Would you like to be?"

  "You - you - asshole."

  He made some kind of wavy gesture with his fingers and then pulled the sheet away from her hands. Her unresisting hands. She frowned. "What did you do?"

  "Merely a small spell of stillness. You are unharmed, Demetria. But you are in my world now. I am a wizard and here I call the shots."

  She snorted. "Yeah. Wizard my ass."

  "And very lovely it is." He continued to draw the sheet down to her toes. "Along with the rest of you."

  Embarrassed, shocked - and unwilling to admit she was a little turned-on at being stripped bare in front of him - Demetria ground her teeth, helpless to move a muscle from the neck down. "Why can't I move?"

  "Because I'm worried you would hurt yourself trying to escape if I allow you that freedom. You have to understand where you are, first. You have to accept it, just as you have to accept that I am what I say I am."

  Mulishly, she pouted. "Do not."

  "You don't believe in magic, I know." He looked at her thoughtfully. "So that has to change."

  "Yeah right. You've drugged me. That's why I can't move. The chipmunk gave me something, right?"

  His lips twitched. "The chipmunk. You talked to the chipmunk."

  "Yes, it..." Realizing what she'd said, Demetria shut her mouth with a snap.

  "Let's try this again."

  Andrew nudged her over with his hip and sat down, letting his hand rest on her belly. The heat from his skin warmed her, thus proving that even though she couldn't move, she could still feel. As his fingers danced down toward her pussy, she shivered.

  Yeah, she sure could feel.

  "I visited your world to find you, Demetria. I saw your face some time ago. You were promised to me by another magic creature, so don't fight this, sweetheart. It's destiny. Fate. The fairies never lie, even though they'll make a corkscrew look like a knitting needle if you ask them a tough question."

  She snorted. "Fairy stories don't interest me. I want to go home."

  "Do you?"

  Andrew stroked her shaved mound, petting her. Incidentally stoking a few inner flames she fought to ignore. "Yes."

  "Little liar." He grinned. "You're intrigued. Fascinated. Yes, you're worried about what's happening back in your world, but you're an adventuress, Demetria. You want to find out the how and the why. You want to take things, turn them upside down and make them your own by changing them."

  "Uhh..." He had to be rambling. That wasn't her at all.

  "You don't understand this world yet. And yes, you've stopped believing in magic. That's sad. And something I have to change. You've got a blind spot now, almost as if you've been injured and lost sight of a very precious part of life. The magic part."

  She lifted her chin. "I make my own magic."

  "Do you?" He repeated himself.

  "Stop repeating yourself."

  "Then stop making me ask you to be honest with me."

  She hesitated. "I don't understand."

  He smiled then and let his fingers caress her pussy lips. "I know. Relax now, and let me give you pleasure. We'll go from there."

  He touched her, reverently, delicately, blowing on her skin and apparently loosening whatever hold he had on her muscles. She could spread her thighs, which she did. She could clench her buttocks and lift her hips, which she did.

  And she could moan. Which - even though it hurt her pride - she did. Especially when his fingers parted the soft folds and caressed all kinds of lovely places.

  "You are magic, Demetria. You may not believe in it, but watching you as you respond to my touch, as the air fills with your scent - that's magic."

  "It is?" She gasped as he found a new place to tease. A very excellent place...

  "Yes, it is." His voice was rougher as he worked her with his hand. "I want more."

  With a casual tug and twist he shed his robe and clambered onto the chaise between her legs.

  "Oh God."

  "I've been dreaming of this for what seems like an eternity." He settled himself between her legs and lifted her thighs onto his shoulders, cupping her buttocks in his hands, raising her a little toward his mouth.

  He licked his lips and Demetria held her breath.

  He stared at her pussy and she felt her cheeks heat as she blushed.

  He breathed heavily.

  She clenched her teeth.

  His cock hardened and thrust forcefully from its nest of dark blonde hair.

  Demetria bit back a scream of frustration. If he didn't -

  He did.

  She screamed anyway.

  Andrew wondered if this was what Heaven tasted like.

  Finally he was where he'd dreamed of being and it was better than he could have ever imagined. She was sweet and tangy, honey with a tart dash of spice, uniquely Demetria and absolutely addictive.

  He suckled her juices and then toyed with her swollen lips, sliding upward toward her shining clit and then back again in long strokes that made her sigh and squirm in his hands.

  She didn't hold back - he wouldn't let her. Taking her out of her own environment had been the right thing to do, because there was nothing for her to seize and use for protection against her feelings

  She couldn't hide here, not from herself or from him. Andrew had realized that she was a woman cocooned in a cell of her own making. She was brilliant, driven and about as social as a hand-grenade. She'd shut herself off from so much that she'd forgotten where the door was, let alone how to open it. He was going to show her the key.

  And lest all this altruism turn him into some kind of saint, he also planned on getting his own rocks off as often as possible.

  Yep, it was going to be an interesting time for both of them. And she was definitely on board with the oral sex part, anyway, to judge by the noises and movements she was currently making.

  "Do you like that?" He gave her clit a teasing lick and looked down her body at her flushed face.

  "No I hate it." She hissed the words at him. "D
o it again or I swear I'll kill you."

  He laughed. "That's my girl."

  Bending back to his pleasure, Andrew plunged his tongue deeply into her cunt, moving it as he willed, nuzzling her, inhaling her arousal and becoming dizzy with the sheer joy of what he was doing.

  She whimpered, sobbed and twisted, her thighs trembling as she pushed her pussy at him, mutely begging for more.

  Andrew ached, his cock already beaded with a drop of his own need, his muscles taut and his balls hard and ready.

  He was a wizard, so he needed no protection...they were immune to just about everything except the common cold and the odd ingrown toenail. Andrew had neither at the moment, so there was nothing to stop him from doing what he'd planned for so long it seemed like a lifetime.

  "Demetria." He squeezed her buttocks hard to get her attention as he lowered them back down to the chaise. "It's time, sweetheart. Time to do what we both want."

  She stared at him for a long moment, her expression a blend of desire and something that might have been apprehension.

  He touched his cock. "I won't hurt you. But this has to be inside you where it belongs. You know it and I know it." He shuddered and shifted to lie above her, holding his weight on his hands.

  He kissed her lightly. "Tell me you want this too. Give me a reason to free you so that we can do this together."

  "Shit." She closed her eyes, then opened them again. "I can't remember the last time I got oral like that. I need..." She swallowed. "I need you to finish me, Andrew. I hurt. I need to come."

  "Good girl." His heart leaped at the words and he quickly blew away the rest of the immobility spell. "Hold me. Put me inside you."

  Her legs lifted to his waist and her ankles locked behind him. She stared down between their bodies and Andrew's soul soared as he felt her hand grasp his cock.

  His soul fell through the floor and he screamed aloud as she grabbed him hard - and twisted.

  Chapter Five

  It had taken four ice packs and a couple of bags of frozen peas to get Andrew's genitalia back into some semblance of working order. Demetria had gotten him but good, and he couldn't help but realize it was his own damn fault.

  The immediate urge to turn her into a fly and smack her into a bloody mess on the wall...well it had passed, and thankfully he hadn't acted on it. This was because his eyes were watering so badly he wouldn't have been able to see a swatter, let alone use it with any degree of accuracy.

  He'd managed to recite the knockout spell - after accidentally turning her feet into flippers, then back to feet again - so she was sleeping and unaware of his ongoing agony. And he completely failed to feel guilty about the flipper thing. She'd damn near torn his nuts off. He was plumb out of sympathy.

  "Well you fucked that up royally, didn't you?"

  He turned from his seat at the table and looked around to see his little naked fairy friend hovering near the mantelpiece. "Oh, it's you."

  "Yep, it's me, idiot wizard-boy." She snorted scornfully. "I see you're about as good at fucking as you are at spells, huh?"

  He waved his hand. "Hey. This house is nice. I made it all myself." He was proud of the snug cottage and the fact that there wasn't a piece of okra anywhere within at least twenty-five square leagues of the place.

  "Oh sure," sneered the fairy. "Throw some two-by-fours together and you think you're Merlin all of a sudden. Didn't do you shit's worth of good when you were about to get some of that pussy, did it?" She flipped her wings at the shape of Demetria, tucked up under a soft blanket on Andrew's couch.

  He frowned on a sigh. "I must've miscalculated somewhere."

  "No shit." The fairy snickered. "That miscalculation was right up there with...hmm," she thought for a moment or two. "Yeah. Got it. Right up there with the dude who said 'don't worry, it's just a little bit of ice'. He was on the bridge of the Titanic when he said it."

  "Har har." Andrew was not impressed. "So, Ms. Smart-ass know-it-all, what do I do now?" He raised his hands in the classic what-the-fuck gesture.

  She fluttered down toward him and landed on the table, where she pulled a couple of coasters beneath her little fairy bottom and perched daintily in front of him. "You could start over. This one's a real horror. Want another one? I can do that for you..."

  "Nope." Stubbornly, Andrew shook his head. "I want Demetria."

  She rolled her eyes. "Jackass. But I can't say I'm surprised. You're a soft touch for the underdog, huh? Or the underbitch in this case."

  "Guess so." Andrew's gaze drifted to the blonde hair and the gently rising and falling shoulders of his dream woman.

  "All righty then." The fairy straightened her shoulders. "Let's make a plan. Listen up, Andrew, because it's all on you. And you're going to have to ask yourself just how much you want this creature."

  For the next hour or so, Andrew and his fairy guest argued, shouted, strode around the room - or the tabletop in the fairy's case - and thrashed out a plan that both could agree on, and both believed had a slight chance of working.

  Andrew had immediately nixed the throw her in a dungeon with some large spiders for a century or two idea the fairy had supported. Besides anything else, none of the spiders he knew would go for it.

  She had displayed a complete lack of enthusiasm for the I'll fuck her into submission with my brilliant sexual abilities strategy. Her sarcastic question "what sexual abilities?" had been uncalled for, he felt, but since he was a bit insecure on that entire topic, he let it pass.

  Eventually, as the arguments wore down, the combatants grew exhausted and the daylight gave way to dusk, both Andrew and the fairy had settled on the one plan that seemed to accomplish what they both desired.

  For the fairy, it would give Demetria back as good as she'd given. Fairies tended to hold grudges, as everyone knew, and there wasn't much worse than knowing one of the wee folk had it in for you. Sort of like a permanent sword over one's head, held up by a hair that had been colored, curled, flat ironed and then frizzed into split ends.

  In other words, not a good thing.

  The fairy had not been pleased when Demetria had tied Andrew's dick in knots, since fairies liked exacting that kind of punishment themselves, and took it amiss when humans duplicated their actions. A knee to the groin, the fairy could have accepted. But that vicious twist...well, it went beyond her limits. Hence the grudge.

  For Andrew's part, the plan would get him laid. That was the major selling point right there, of course. But the tiny part of his brain that hadn't gone and taken up residence in the head of his cock knew the rest of the plan was solid. That it was time for Demetria to learn a few lessons and perhaps let go of some of her more destructive beliefs. If he could accomplish that...well, even better.

  He'd be helping her and getting his jollies. What more could he ask?

  "How's it going to end?" The fairy paused at the edge of the table. "Have you thought about that, Andrew?"

  The wizard tilted his head and blinked at her in puzzlement. "End? Why it's going to end happily, of course. You're a fairy. So this would be a fairy story, right?"

  She snorted. "Yeah right. Keep thinking that, dude."

  And with a sound not unlike a delicate little fart, the fairy vanished, leaving behind a barely visible puff of glitter.

  Andrew sighed. "Dratted little critters. Too unpredictable, if you ask me."

  "I heard that." A pot near the hearth rattled.

  "Oh go away." He gritted his teeth and yelled at the shining metal.

  "I'm gone." The voice faded.

  "Really?"

  There was no answer, so Andrew felt it was safe to assume she had indeed gone. If she'd been there she'd have wanted the last word, for sure.

  There was a snuffle from the couch and Demetria moved, tucking the blanket more snugly around her shoulders. He knew the spell would be almost gone and that she was sleeping normally now, thus it would be time to begin putting the plan for her transformation into action.

  With a bit of
luck she'd become the woman of his dreams in all ways, not just physically. If he didn't screw up, he'd be screwing her before the night was through. And if all the planets were in alignment and the gods not paying attention to this little place, Demetria would find herself without the burdens she carried and the pain Andrew knew was inside her.

  It was his mission, he thought, to save her. To free her and make her a happier person. And in so doing, he'd get his rocks off at the same time.

  Yep, life was good. He grinned as he went to wizard up some hearty chicken soup in the large pot and stoke the fire. He hoped the fairy had been true to her word and left. Otherwise she was gonna cook along with the noodles. He poked the coals into a nice blaze and wondered idly if a bit of roast fairy might add a soupcon of savory flavor to his dish.

  "Don't even fucking think about it."

  He sighed and shrugged. It was freakin' hard when even a wizard's thoughts weren't his own.

  *~*~*~*

  The fragrance creeping up into Demetria's nostrils was divine enough to waken the dead, and she was certainly not dead. At least not so's you'd notice. Sure, she was still naked and in a strange kind of sweetly Hollywood-looking cottage kitchen. But other than that aberration, her salivary glands were working fine and the smell of chicken soup was sending them into overdrive.

  She was a bit hazy on the whole life-after-death thing, but on the whole she felt it was safe to assume that post-life people didn't drool.

  Carefully opening her eyes, she saw the same weird wizard-person whose penis she'd attempted to tie into a double half-hitch knot. She winced. He probably wasn't too happy with her - and justifiably so.

  She quietly cleared her throat. "Uh...hi."

  He turned and smiled at her. "Hey. Glad you're awake. The soup's almost ready." He stirred, tasted and nodded, just like some chef on one of those endless TV cooking shows, except that he was cooking in a pot over an open fire. She hadn't seen anything quite so rustic advertised on that food channel.

  "Certainly smells delicious." She wasn't quite sure what to say, so she simply wrapped the soft blanket around her body and watched him.