Based on "The Eagle" by Alfred, Lord TennysonOn pavement he hobbles, too great a height;A flower that blooms in deepest of night, His corset ringed in far too. Her saree was in her hands and she tried to decide whether to put it on or go for a wash. Her thighs were sticky and some cum still settled wetly over her puffy pussy lips. The drying had not yet begun. She ran her fingers over her cunt lips and felt them. She scooped a bit of cum into her fingers and brought them to her nose. “Hmmmmm”, she purred at the aroma. Then suddenly the door bell rang. Surprised and alarmed at the untimely ring, she hastily began to assemble the saree over her ravaged. Neither one noticed the growing number of fairies surrounding them.“The man caught the nymph.”“It sure wasn’t much of a chase.”“No chase at all.”“It has been a long time since I’ve watched a nymph have a bit of fun with a man.”“I bet she reaches heaven first.”“Nah. He’s too excited.”“So is she.”“That’s true.”“These humans and all their clothes.”“If she was a proper nymph they’d be at it already.”With the sound of a door opening, the fairies scattered in a dozen different directions. Mrs. Emery.Read More