FAIRY DUST & MAGIC KISSES

By

Marianne LaCroix

© copyright Oct. 2007, Marianne LaCroix

Cover art by Alex DeShanks, © Oct. 2007

ISBN 978-1-60394-100-6

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

Big, bad Jack Horner

Caught a fairy in a corner

Eating some pussy pie;

He put in his thumb,

And made her come,

And said,

What a bad boy am I!

Chapter One

Once upon a time, in the far away enchanted world called Faylin, 'Wolfman' Jack Horner was about to go on trial. Caught in a precarious position with Grandma Redford, Jack stood accused of attempted murder. If only he could convince the jury that Grandma had practically begged him to eat her.

Known for bringing pleasure to the females of Faylin with his skillful tongue, Jack lived up to his wolfish reputation in more ways than one. Fairies, witches, and nymphs clamored for Jack to show them his talents in the bedroom. He had never had a complaint, until now.

Not that the sassy Grandma, probably only in her early forties, had screamed in anything but orgasmic pleasure. It had been her embarrassment of getting caught with Jack's face between her legs by her granddaughter, Roberta Redford, that had brought Jack to the predicament he now faced.

He ran a hand across his bearded face while sitting in the holding cell before the trial. So far, it had been the biggest scandal Faylin had ever seen. No one, not even the witches of Double, Double Toil and Trouble Inc. had gotten into so much shit. Jack smiled, thinking back to his triple-header with the three witches. There was much to be said in pleasing three magical ladies such as those. They had brought a whole new meaning to the word 'enchantment' that night.

"Wolfman Jack?" a gritty voice broke the silence in his dark holding cell.

"Yeah?"

"Ready to pay the piper?"

Keys scraped against metal. With a rusty click and squeal, the door opened, revealing a stout troll, hairy and green. He looked the part of a jailer. With a sniff, Jack smelled that the troll had the unclean stench of one, as well.

"Look, I'm innocent. That woman wanted me to eat her pussy. I wasn't trying to kill her."

"Yeah, yeah, tell it to the jury."

Jack ducked his tall height through the low doorway and waited for the troll to close the cell and lead him up to the courtroom. Winding through dimly lit stone halls, Jack decided the dungeon of Faylin was everything nightmares could dream up. Some cells held chains and manacles to restrain troublesome prisoners, although, the restraints had also been used for more devious, pleasurable purposes.

A smile spread across his lips when he thought back to one night with a rascal fairy and her bondage fantasy. She had bribed the guard to let her and Jack spend a night in the dungeon. They certainly hadn't slept there. Images of her chained and writhing in growing passion as he pleasured her clit with his tongue had been an experience he would never forget.

The sounds of an excited fairy had a whole different tone when she climaxed. It was like a vocal aphrodisiac. Plunging his cock into that willing fairy had been not only pleasurable, but a mystic experience. He had been lucky enough to see her a few times after that night, but she eventually moved on to another lover, a fellow female fairy.

"Hey, Wolfman, watch your head," the troll said, bringing Jack out of his thoughts and back to reality.

Right now wasn't a good time to reminisce about his past. His entire future was at stake. And if he were convicted, he'd have plenty of time to think and remember the good times, and all the women he had loved.

Missing a lantern hanging from the low ceiling, he moved his head and continued on through the stone hallway leading to a brightly lit room. The hall emptied out into the bustling headquarters of Faylin law enforcement. Several trolls, gnomes, goblins and fairies lolled about with papers in hand, while some rushed about the office, jabbering about the latest cases they were working on.

"Come on, Jack. Move along," the troll growled as he shoved Jack in the back.

Jack walked, watching the fairies flutter by the desks carrying handfuls of mail. Some stopped to look at him, winking and smiling. He flirted back, only to have the dirty troll push him.

After opening the door marked 'Courtroom', Jack met a packed room, mainly filled with women from his past. Groaning inwardly, he made his way to his lawyer's table. There stood an old flame who'd given him quite a tumble.

The leggy, blonde attorney was someone he knew all too well. "Hey, Jill."

"Jack, I was so upset to hear about your trouble. I asked to represent you."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Damn, Jill was still the beauty from years ago when they were just teenagers. He would never forget that day up on Well Hill. She'd lifted that pretty dress of hers, revealing her naughty secret-no undies. Long, shapely legs joined at the thick thatch of blonde curls hiding her sex.

She had grasped his hand and brought his fingers to feel the softness of her apex, already beginning to glisten with moisture. As his fingertips brushed along the outer lips of her labia, she'd moaned, tossing her head back.

Like magic, Jill had whipped off her dress, revealing her perfect body. Luscious breasts bounced free and swayed with her movement. Pert, rosy nipples surrounded by tightening aureoles beckoned for his touch. While his one hand caressed the slippery wetness of her cleft, he brought his other hand up to touch the pebble hardness of her faultless nipple. Pinching one between his forefinger and thumb, he gained a gasp from Jill. Her head back and eyes closed, she looked as close to the goddess Aphrodite as Jack could imagine.

Touching her breasts, he leaned in and tasted one of the buds, like a taut raspberry beneath his tongue. Working one, then laving the other in slow strokes while slipping through her juices now running over his fingers, he touched the hard nub of her passion, and she shattered. As she screamed with her convulsions, Jack slipped two fingers into her, trying to help her ride out the contractions a little longer.

Easing her down onto the soft grass, Jack had tasted her creamy skin, relishing the remnants of her vanilla scented soap-such a delicate fragrance for such a naughty girl.

Licking her skin along her inner legs, his tongue had sampled her in easy strokes. Traveling up her luscious length, he heard her murmur pleas to fill her. In a swift movement, he unfastened his pants and his large cock thrust forward in its grand length, the head already purple, engorged with excitement. Pushing her knees open to reveal her wet pussy, he plunged inside her core. Her muscles hugged his length and he began to move into her deeper, backing out only to ram into her once again. She moaned beneath him, lifting her hips, meeting each thrust with enthusiasm and wantonness.

Bringing his thumb to the place where their bodies joined so intimately, he rubbed her hard clit, sending her into a fit of moans, panting with each small brush. Her back arched upward as he felt her tight inner muscles convulse rhythmically with each scream. He had joined her, going over the edge as his restraint broke, spilling his essence into her body.

"All rise." A commanding voice broke Jack's daydream of the sexy woman now shoving at his arm to make him stand. "The Honorable Judge Harte presiding."

Jack heaved a deep sigh, knowing he was about to get his goose cooked, or worse, by the toughest judge in Faylin. Known for her brutal punishments, he'd be lucky to come out of the trial with his head.

The traditional black robe couldn't hide the woman's generous curves. The floorboards moaned in protest under her weight. Her black hair, pulled severely back into a tight bun, gave her a merciless look and Jack wished he were back in his cell. At least the troll jailer was easier to look at.

As they sat back down, Judge Harte hammered her gavel against the hard surface of her bench. Looking over the packed courtroom, she smiled. Glancing at Jack, a scowl replaced her smile, causing a shiver of dread to shudder down his spine.

"Don't worry, Jack. Queenie Harte's bark is much worse than her bite."

Jack groaned as he leaned over the table, rubbing his hands slowly across his face. Peering back at the judge, he knew she had already decided his fate.

The hours rolled on as Jack sat sweating in his seat. The prosecutor was a short, red-bearded man whom Jack knew from the newspapers for his famous case against a noble woman he had helped by spinning straw into gold. He listed the charges of attempted murder and was met by an outburst of tears from Grandma Redford.

Later, Grandma took the stand, looking much older than her forty years, probably by the prosecutor's suggestion to dress the part of a sweet, little, old lady. If they only knew she had dressed that day in a red silk dress…the kind that clung to the curves of a desirable woman. Grandma had played the part of a seductress that evening so long ago.

"And, he…he…," she stuttered then sobbed on the stand.

"Here you go, dearie." The judge handed Grandma a tissue, flashing him a renewed look of disgust.

Oh, the dramatics. Jack lowered his head and banged it on the tabletop.

"Come on, Jack, don't give up. We have yet to get you up there."

Next came Roberta, the granddaughter. Her testimony was even more damaging as she retold the tale of discovering Jack in bed with her grandmother. All the while dear, old Grandma screamed in what Roberta said had sounded like 'a terrible horror'.

After the prosecutor finished with his witnesses, it was Jack's turn to answer the charges.

Jack took the stand and was sworn in under the evil eye of Judge Harte. With her glaring down at him from the height of the bench, he felt uneasy. He really hadn't done anything wrong, but why did he feel so nervous?

Jill asked his account of the visit to Grandma and how she seduced him into bed, begging for him to demonstrate his talents. "I swear, she asked for me to eat her pussy."

The courtroom released a collective gasp as some women sighed and nodded in understanding.

Unfortunately, Judge Harte didn't look convinced. Smashing her gavel down with a hard crack, she called the room to order, commanding the women causing the ruckus be removed. Moments later, peace had returned.

Jill finished her round of questioning, but then it was the prosecutor's turn.

"Tell me, Wolfman, why would a sweet woman like Grandma Redford want the likes of you to eat her, as you put it?"

"She said she had heard of my reputation and wanted to see for herself."

"I see, and did you eat her?"

"Yes."

"Did she scream anything?"

"I don't know…my name, probably."

"Did she scream for you to stop?" the lawyer asked hastily.

"No, not that I recall."

"In fact, didn't she yell the word 'don't' at you?"

"I don't know."

"Let me read back her granddaughter's testimony to you." He picked up the paper from his table and began reading. "She said, and I quote, 'I walked in and she was screaming, 'Don't!'" Placing the paper back on the table, he turned back to Jack sitting on the stand. "Do you remember any of this?"

"She was screaming, don't s …."

His sentence was cut off by the prosecutor. "No further questions."

"But, Your Honor, she was screaming don't s …."

"I've heard enough. Step down, boy." Her face drawn in a scowl, he knew trying to clarify the situation was pointless.

After a short recess, the judge returned and calm came over the courtroom, awaiting the final judgment on their Wolfman Jack.

"After some thought," the judge began, looking a bit too smug for Jack's comfort as he stood next to Jill, "let it be known to all that this court finds Wolfman Jack Horner guilty in the eyes of Faylin Law. You are to be confined to the Faylin prison where you shall await sentencing." She leaned over her bench, her size intimidating and menacing. "If it was up to me, I'd say a beheading would solve the problem."

Jack's hand instinctively went to his crotch, covering the head he knew she meant.