All characters in this story are 18 years of age or older.
All characters have consented to the sexual acts described.
"This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, business, places, places, events and incidents are either figments of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review."
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I was a senior at the Ethnography and Folklore Section of the Smithsonian Institution and was already preparing intensely my thesis. Which was great, but it was completely missing. For a long time, I hadn’t even chosen a topic, so when I was asked how it was going, I answered evasively and left the place with a preoccupied face. My thesis supervisor had just fallen in love with one of the students and was over his head trying to hide the affair, so when I told him that the topic of my paper was “Mythological Creatures in Contemporary Folklore”, absently approved it and went back to his phone where he talked for hours with my fellow student – the object of his passion.
My dorm roommate, Liam Miller, was originally from a small town somewhere in Montana and was rather preoccupied with getting as many girls as he could before he finished college. His list was growing longer by the day and although he was very preoccupied with his new conquests, he noticed my worries, especially since he was somehow behind the strange title for my undergraduate thesis. He told me at one point that his grandfather, who among other things was a hunter, had once, on one of his travels, ended up in a remote hamlet called Mistveil where he found a lot of mythological creatures: elves, fairies, minotaurs, centaurs and many others that he could not even remember.
“I think I should make a trip to this hamlet,” I said to him after I had chosen the title of my dissertation. “Can you tell me how to get there?”
He looked at me suspiciously, then after a long pause he answered, “I can’t tell you how to get there because I don’t know either. My grandfather didn’t want to tell me because he said about this hamlet that it’s always surrounded by fog, and besides, none of the people who went there have ever returned. Except for him, of course.”
He replied to a message on his phone and then followed up on his idea.
“But if you want, I can give you my grandfather’s address and you can pay him a visit. If you catch him in the evening, after he’s had his daily dose of juniper whiskey, he’ll show you the way to heaven and not just Mistveil.”
I’m a stubborn guy, so when I get something in my head I can hardly get it out. So a few days later, I ended up at Liam’s grandfather who, when he heard that I wanted to go to Mistveil, first tried to get the idea out of my head.
He seemed a man full of life and initiative. However, after a few glasses of juniper whisky, his own recipe as he boasted, he wanted to join me in the hamlet hidden in the mist. I had a hard time persuading him not to come with me, especially as he was approaching 80, and I was afraid he would slow me down on the way.
But I took advantage of his whisky-induced state and tried to get as much information as I could from him.
His story in a nutshell was as follows: when he was a young man, about my age, he was chasing a deer and at some point he came to a valley shrouded in fog. Undeterred, he continued on and at some point, the fog lifted and the houses of a small hamlet appeared before him. A sign at the entrance to the village told him that he had arrived in the village of Mistveil, which had only 29 inhabitants. A little later, he met the first inhabitants, who looked at him in astonishment. And they were right to be astonished because they were all mythological beings. He was the only human there. From elves to centaurs and minotaurs it seemed that none of the beings he had heard of in mythology were missing. At one point when he got about halfway through the small hamlet a young elf girl approached him and, after standing on her tiptoes, whispered in his ear:
“Run! Just turn and run!”
“Why?” he asked, puzzled, looking around and seeing just a quiet hamlet haunted by strange beings.
“Lest you die!” said the young elf just as softly. “If you stick around here any longer, your body will soon be floating down the Magic River,” she pointed to the river that flowed swirling past them.
She looked around to make sure someone couldn’t hear her and continued, “Once it comes out of Mistveil, this water changes its name to the White River, and on it float the dead corpses of all those who have been here too long.”
Liam’s grandfather remembered that at the entrance to their hamlet, the White River bends, it smooths its swift rushing paths, and from time to time the villagers find there naked and dead young men washed up and abandoned near their little village.
When he was younger, he asked several times what the cemetery by the riverbank was all about, but the only explanation was this: washed up people. Why they were naked and how they died, nobody knew. A grave was dug for them, a few words from the Bible were read and then they were buried after a cross was put on their heads.
Remembering the throng of crosses in the little cemetery by the river, Liam’s grandfather didn’t ask any more questions and ran back. He made it through the mist and made it safely home and hasn’t told many people what he’d been through since. She did, however, tell Liam when she came home one summer and felt like walking in the mountains.
After he finished his story, he had another glass of whisky and then brought an old photo album.
“Don’t worry, I won’t bore you with the family photos I have. I just wanted to show you this.”
He pulled out a Polaroid picture from the back of the album and handed it to me. As you know, Polaroid pictures are not renowned for their clarity, but even so, I could see that there was a ravishingly beautiful girl in it. And beyond beauty she had something else: a pair of huge, immaculately white wings that seemed to flap behind her. She was naked, and I saw that she had a perfect body. I can say that I instantly fell in love with the girl in the picture, so I looked questioningly at the old man.
He sighed heavily and then began to speak.
“Last year, a young man arrived here after had left a few days before for Mistveil, and we all thought him dead and expected to find him dead in the White River from one day to the next. Instead, he turned up on the road, crawling toward our village. He was naked, thirsty, hungry and full of wounds. He clutched this picture in his hands. When I met him, he handed it to me and whispered, ‘She wanted to kill me because I didn’t want to have sex with her!’”
“He died a few hours later, and we buried him in the cemetery by the river. At his grave I put a cross on which there is no name because, like the others, I never found out his name. There are many more of them in the cemetery than those who go up to Mistveil through our village. I think it’s easier to get to it from the other side of the mountain and most of them end up this way.”
“You can keep the photo,” the old man said, seeing how admiringly I looked at the girl in the picture. “But I would advise you to be content with the picture and not go to Mistveil.”
“I have to go,” I retorted. “I really have to meet this girl because I’d be willing to have sex with her whenever she wants.”
The old man laughed and went to go to bed, but before he left the room, he said, “I see you’ve got a hankering for fairy pussy, and I see I can’t stop you. Just be careful what you wish for because it may come true in ways you can’t even imagine.”
The story was bizarre, but it still didn’t make me give up and I went to sleep in the bed prepared by the old man, clutching the picture of the fairy to my chest.
The next morning I put some sandwiches and a jerry can of water in my backpack and set off in the direction the old man had indicated.
On the way, I was always wondering if I was following the ramblings of an old man who drank too much juniper whisky starting too early in the morning.
While I was preoccupied with these thoughts, I didn’t even notice that the trail descended into a deep valley and, to my amazement, there was a thick fog at the bottom of the valley. I kept walking and soon the fog became so compact that I could barely see a few steps ahead of me.
Even the sounds of the surrounding forest were somewhat muffled, but I didn’t let it deter me and continued walking along the road that soon turned into a barely visible path. Just as I was getting completely discouraged, the mist began to clear and above me, the sun rose. After a few hundred steps, I reached the sign bearing the village name; it was rusty and ready to fall off the post where it was stuck, but I could see that it still showed 29 inhabitants, which I found curious. How come the number of inhabitants had not changed at all in so many years?
I walked on and was just approaching the first houses in the hamlet when I heard the trot of a horse approaching in a rush. It was only when it came closer that I saw it was not a horse at all, but a real centaur. For those of you who don’t know what a centaur is, let me explain it in just a few words. A centaur is a mythological being imagined by the ancient Greeks as living in Thessaly. It is an imaginary being that looked like an ordinary horse with a human torso. The emphasis here should be on “imaginary being” but the centaur in front of me didn’t look imaginary at all. It stopped galloping in front of me and looking frightened behind it said in a guttural voice, “Run! She comes, and she’s pissed! She wants to have sex and can’t find anyone willing to do it.”
There were long scratches on his arms and although I wanted to ask him something, he looked at me briefly, shook his head, and continued his gallop.
Behind him came a few elves who looked as frightened as the centaur.
“Run!” they also shouted as they passed me.
“Where should I run to?” I asked, but they kept on running.
The last of them, who seemed a bit more merciful, took the trouble to answer me but without stopping.
“Run wherever you want! Go back to where you came from, or at least hide in the woods until it passes.”
Soon I was alone in the middle of the road and I looked around, puzzled, wondering what to do. In front of me, I saw a girl coming, and I was amazed that she wasn’t running and didn’t even seem in a hurry.
When she came closer, I saw that it was the girl in the picture and that she was indeed an unearthly beauty. The oval of her face was perfect and the hair falling to her shoulders made her look like a goddess. Her body was beautiful, and she had only a bra and a few white veils surrounding her diaphanous being. She moved closer and extended her hand towards me.
“I am Lila,” she told me and, as I expected, her voice was as melodious as heavenly music.
Out of excitement I forgot to introduce myself but I said in a strangled voice, “God how beautiful you are! You look like a goddess!”
She frowned slightly and unfurled a pair of snow-white wings behind her.
“Goddess my ass! I’m a fairy, I thought you realized that. They wish goddesses were as beautiful as me.”
I was too drunk (of love) to judge clearly; in front of me was a girl so beautiful that none of the models who flaunted their beauty in glossy magazines could even compare to her. She was half-naked and showed everything to my greedy eyes, but she didn’t seem at all bothered by it. In fact, from my little knowledge of female psychology, I think she was flattered.
He moved a little closer to me and asked in a soft voice, “Do you think I’m beautiful?”
“The most beautiful being I’ve ever seen.”
She frowned again, but it suited her even being frowned and asked me, “So why is it that I can’t find anyone to have sex with, even though I’ve been looking for someone since this morning?”
Even though I know it’s not a posture that is to my advantage, my jaw dropped and I stayed like that for a few long seconds before I realized it and asked quietly, “Does no one want to have sex with you? Why would anyone say no?”
She sobbed briefly and said enigmatically, “Maybe because I know the Legend.”
“What Legend?” I asked, but couldn’t take my eyes off her majestic breasts.
She frowned and grabbed my hand.
“Forget it, it’s better you don’t know. I’ll tell you after we have sex! I hope you want to have sex with me?”
“Of course,” I stammered back, and she pulled me after her into a meadow by the side of the road.
On the way, she took off her bra and the veils around her hips. In front of me walked Beauty herself and I walked hypnotized behind her.
She came to a place where the grass seemed silky and said, “Take off your clothes and lie on your back.”
She flapped her huge wings behind her back and added, “You realize that because of them, it’s the only position we can use to have sex.”
Almost without realizing it, I undressed and lay in the soft grass.
She sat down next to me, to the side so her wings wouldn’t bother her, and said, “Don’t be shy! Just act like I am a regular girl.”
To encourage me, she took one of my hands and placed it on one of her breasts. I squeezed gently, and she moaned softly.
“Go on,” she said, and I continued to caress her breast with my eyes closed, wondering if I was dreaming or if all I was hallucinating from the few glasses of whiskey I had last night with Liam’s grandfather.
It was neither a dream nor a hallucination because Lila sat on top of me and I could feel her sweet weight pressing against my penis.
She pulled back a little and took my cock in her hands and started caressing it with soft strokes, making me go crazy with pleasure. She then put it in her mouth and inserted the tip of her tongue between the glans and the foreskin, moving it quickly. Eventually the pleasure was so great that I felt that if she kept this up, I was going to cum, so I told her hastily, “Stop! It’s so good but stop! I don’t want to finish so soon!”
She must have realized what it was all about because she pulled with a slight regret the dick out of her mouth and then leaned over me and started kissing me languidly and then came forward and I saw the most beautiful pussy I ever lay my eyes on.
It had a lovely rosy rose color and after admiring it for a few moments, I pulled it to my greedy mouth and plunged my tongue into its wonderful depths. I had always read about ambrosia. the drink that the gods of Olympus drank, and I think it must have tasted the same. And the smell... the smell was so intoxicating that I thought I was going to die of pleasure as I inhaled it.
After a while, she pulled down again and tried to put my dick in her pussy.
“I can’t get it in,” she whimpered impatiently and then I said, “Leave it to me!”
I gripped my cock in my hand and with circular motions at the entrance to her cunt, I finally found the entrance that seemed to me as sweet as the gates of heaven and, with a sudden movement of my hips, I penetrated her. She moaned slightly, overcome with pleasure, and after finding her rhythm, began to move frantically over my cock. She accelerated faster and faster and at one point, her moans turned into a piercing scream as she climaxed. So melodious but piercing that it seemed like everything around us was vibrating to the rhythm of her scream. Above us, her huge wings also kept the rhythm, beating the air. I moved my hips a few more times and ejaculated into her magical depths.
Eventually she calmed down, I calmed down too, so I could ask something that had been bothering me from the beginning, but I couldn’t find the right moment to do it.
“Which Legend did you mention earlier? It seemed to me from the way you pronounced that word that it should be capitalized.”
She grabbed me with her legs and arms and her white wings flapped harder.
“Yes, we should capitalize the ‘L’ on this Legend because here in this magical land there is only one legend.”
“Can you tell me what this is about?” I asked curiously, although I was in a somewhat awkward position because she still hadn’t extracted herself from my dick, which, feeling that her work was done, was already half asleep.
I don’t know what she was waiting for, but finally, after a few minutes, she spoke.
“Legend has it that once a month we must throw a living creature on the rocks of the Magic River as a sacrifice because the river protects us from the outside world.”
I fell silent and tried to analyze what I heard and Lila continued, “These days the moon was just full, and no suitable sacrifice was coming my way. For I am the only one who has wings and can lift the offering high enough to throw it on the rocks in the middle of the river.”
She was silent for a while, then said, “Usually we sacrifice someone from outside our settlement, but when no one shows up, we sacrifice one of our own. That’s why everyone was running away from me today. I had gone in search of a sacrifice and they all knew it and hid.”
I struggled to get out of her hands and inadvertently turned my head from her. We were above the river she called the Magic River, about a hundred meters up. I didn’t even know how I got that high. Below us, right in the middle of the river, were some rocks glistening white in the sunlight. If I didn’t get out of her hands there, I was going to die on them, and in a few days, the people in the hamlet where Bill’s grandfather lived would find my body naked and crushed. Then I would be buried like all the other strangers under a cross with no writing on it.
I clutched at her with all my strength, but I knew for sure that my efforts were in vain because Lila, as beautiful as she was, was as strong also. She spread her legs from around me, then began to pull at my hands and finally managed to unclench them. My only remaining connection to her was through my dick and I wished I had little hands growing out of my foreskin so I could cling to the pink lips that guarded the entrance to her pretty cunt.
My legs, arms and then my torso came loose from her and the last movement I saw as if in slow motion was my dick coming out of her pussy, a few spurts of my cum glistened pearly in the sunlight, sowing the air, then because of the air currents I turned face down and looked resignedly at the white rocks rushing towards me.
“Nah, I said to myself as I smashed myself against the rocks, fairy pussy you wanted, fairy pussy you got!"