Page 7 of Folds
“I am here, you know,” Selvanar pipes up. “What is your name, sister of Trisha?”
Lizzie’s brows rise. “Oh. I’m Lizzie.” She sits on the stool at the counter so she’s closer to eye level with him. “And you? What’s your name?”
I unload the groceries while they get to know each other. Lizzie suggests we make mimosas and sit in the backyard, and suggests I bring out the Babez lawn chair that came in my beach set.
“You’re totally right!” I head into the house to dig through my doll furniture until I find the lawn chair, and then Selvanar joins us to soak up the rays wearing a pair of shorts from one of my Guyz dolls.
That evening, I try to come up with something to cook that we can all eat. Selvanar doesn’t object to trying some bread, and he’s pleased with it.
Lizzie goes to bed early because she works in a deli and has to be up at five in the morning. I’m a little buzzed, so Selvanar and I stay up late lounging in the warm summer night air. He has a sip of his own small orange juice, which I put into a shot glass for him. It’s still too big, but the cocktail straw seems to be helping.
“Thank you for making so many accommodations for me,” Selvanar says, sighing as he swallows his drink. “This orange juice is quite wonderful.”
I love how easy he is to please.
“Of course. Not every day an injured fairy flies in through your window. I feel like it’s my responsibility.”
He gazes up at me quizzically. “Why? You do not owe me anything.”
“I think I do. I mean, how many fairies probably lived in Oregon before human civilization took over everything?”
Selvanar hums, like he’s understanding now what I mean.
“That’s true. As our forest shrinks, so does our population.” He sighs. “I understand, though, that you are an individual among many, just as I hope you know the same about me. I don’t represent all fairies, though I am one.”
“A special one,” I say cheekily. “The king and all.”
He grins back. “I suppose so. And… I believe you are a special human, too.”
I preen at this, pleased that he likes me.
Finally, I call it a night, and we each head to our separate beds. I make his a bit more comfortable by supplying a clean pair of socks as extra padding, because the little plastic doll bed isn’t really made for sleeping.
“Goodnight, Selvanar,” I call out as I turn off the light.
“Goodnight,” he calls back.
When I dream, I dream about being six inches tall. The world is big and frightening at this size—but then Selvanar is there, strong and tall, and it’s not so scary anymore.
selvanar
Tonight, since I am not ravaged by exhaustion after fleeing from an owl, it is much harder to fall asleep. I had delicious food of a wide variety, and that “orange juice” was divine. And now, I can’t stop thinking about Trisha’s smiling face.
Not to mention that I miss my home. This human place is notmyplace. Trisha turned off her phone to help with my electronics allergy, but I can still feel the vibration in the walls, as well as the hum of the “wai-fai.”
Since I can’t sleep, I attend to my personal needs, then use the edge of one of the socks Trisha gave me to wipe up my spend. But still, I’m wide awake, and soon it’s nearly morning.
My body is hungry. Trisha, that pretty creature… I think she is what I’m craving. A truly mysterious feeling to be drawn so much to a human, and I’m not sure what to make of it.
I climb up onto the bed, then survey her sleeping. Again, she’s cast her blankets aside, leaving her in only a nightgown. The bottom hem has already risen to her thighs, and her legs are spread apart. Underneath, she is completely bare.
Perhaps I just pleased myself, but my cock perks up immediately at this sight. I thought humans wore undergarments, but perhaps not when they sleep.
I creep closer between her thighs, until I am only inches away from her warm center. Here, her brown skin is even darker, and curly black hair decorates the mound of her pelvis and the folds of her cunt. I lick my chops at just the scent. Like a fairy would, she has a clitoris, which is large and pronounced—and I long to touch it, to taste it. I am drawn to it like a moth to a flame.
Before I can stop myself, I fist my hands in her curly hair and lick. Heavens, she tastes marvelous, and the fragrance has already made me hard and thick between the legs. I lick again, and underneath my hands, Trisha twitches.
Now I’m gripping her clit, and I put my whole mouth on it. I can’t get enough. One of my hands ventures down of its own accord, exploring her soft folds until it finds an opening. There. It’s big enough for my whole hand, so I fit my fist inside while I suck on the clit in front of me.
