I always thought fairy tales (and fairy phone sex) were for kids, but my new house felt like a haunting. Every time I cleaned up after a solo session of jerking off, the tissues and socks vanished. I woke up Tuesday to find a jagged, fist-sized hole punched through my bedroom wall. My neighbor, Mr. Henderson, an old man who has lived in the area since he was a kid, stood at the breach, peeking through the gap with a squint.
“You’ve got an infestation of pixies,” Henderson rasped, stepping back. “They’re peckish. Figure out what they want, or they’ll tear the roof off.” I asked him what they ate, and he just shook his head. “I don’t know, but hurry. Don’t end up like the last tenant. He moved out looking like he was drained of every fluid in his body.” I panicked, asking, “Wait! How do I even see the fairies?” Henderson snapped back, “Pixies! They take offense at the wrong name. Find a rock with a hole in it or a four-leaf clover. That’ll grant you the sight.”
I spent an hour scouring the backyard until I spotted a single, vibrant four-leaf clover nestled in the grass. As soon as my fingers brushed the stem, a fairy-like shimmer rippled through the air. The world shifted, revealing a swarm of tiny creatures with iridescent wings and neon pink and light blue hair. They weren’t just flying; they were orbiting my crotch with hungry, predatory eyes. I realized then why my cum-soaked laundry kept disappearing. These little monsters didn’t want nectar; they wanted my seed.
I sat back on the grass and whipped my cock out, the giant (to them) head of my penis pulsing in the open air. I gripped my shaft, sliding my hand up and down, the friction building heat. Suddenly, the swarm descended. Dozens of tiny hands, soft as silk, gripped my glans and massaged my frenulum with rhythmic, frantic precision. Their iridescent wings buzzed against my thighs, creating a vibrating hum that drove me wild. One pixie put her mouth over my tip, her tongue licking the pre-cum with a loud slurping sound that echoed in the backyard. I groaned, my hips bucking as the collective effort of a hundred tiny mouths and hands pushed me over the edge. I let out a guttural shout as a thick, white rope of cum exploded from my cock, splashing across the grass AND the tiny creatures. They didn’t recoil; they dove into the sticky puddle, gathering the hot fluid into shimmering globes, and carrying their prize back to the nest in the wall. I lay there, spent, wondering if I should call a fairy exterminator or just buy more lube. Enjoy that case of fairy phone sex? You should call me for more!
Fairy Catalina
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