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  "Aha!" There was a melodious chime of distant bells and a portion of the bark slid aside revealing an entrance. "Thank God. Fairies." He stuck his sword back in his belt and stepped into the cool shadows within.

  The passage was dark, lit by a few flickering candles mounted on sconces high up along the walls, but there was a glow at the end and it was toward that Sir Lincoln hurriedly stepped.

  He knew the fairy waiting for him would have a bottle of red potion, something that would replenish his life bar and put him in good shape to hunt for that elusive prey—the Magic Sword.

  "Over here, good sir." There she was, flittering gently above a flowery arrangement. Sparkling, of course. Fairies always sparkled. It was in their contract. In her hand was a slender bottle, full to the brim with glittering red liquid.

  "Thank God. Gimme the potion, honey." Sir Lincoln grinned and reached for it.

  "Uh uh. Not yet, sweetie. What you gonna do for me?"

  "Huh?" Sir Lincoln stopped. "Nothing. I just wave my sword at you—" He demonstrated suitably. "And you cough up the loot."

  She giggled. "You're in the Fourth Level now, darling. You've come a long way into the game. It ain't gonna be quite that simple."

  Sir Lincoln frowned. "Shit. I have to kill something to get it? That's not fair."

  "Oh goodness me, no. Nothing like that." She fluttered away from him. "You just have to persuade me you're worthy of the potion. And the Princess, of course."

  Sir Lincoln tipped his sword down, rested the point into the ground and leaned on it with a sigh. "You'd better clue me in, toots. First time I've gotten this far."

  "Hoookay, green cheeks. Here's the deal."

  The fairy—and she was a pretty damned good-looking one too—slipped out of her fairy costume, leaving only her wings and the masses of perfectly tousled blonde hair tumbling over her breasts.

  They were actually rather nice breasts. Images of Zara faded a little in Sir Lincoln's bemused mind as the fairy nimbly winged her nude way around him, generously allowing him a thorough glimpse of bald pussy, perfectly curved ass cheeks and nipples as rosy as the potion she still held.

  Fuckin' A. Fairies were getting better looking in every level.

  His cock stirred, stretching beneath his tight green tights, which were getting tighter by the second. Sir Lincoln shifted a little. "Um...so what's the next move?"

  "This."

  The fairy grinned wickedly and slid the bottle between her legs and past her pussy lips halfway into her body. Then she flew up to Sir Lincoln and hovered, her delicate pink labia only inches from his lips. "You gotta make me come, darling. I come, you get the potion."

  Sir Lincoln swallowed. "This isn't in the rules is it?"

  The fairy trembled a little as she began to toy with her breasts. "Who cares?"

  "But...the players...the game..."

  She moaned a little. "They don't know. They don't see it." She glanced down at him from eyes drooping a little as she aroused herself. "All they see is a glow of rainbow light followed by that darling fairy theme song, composed just for this moment." She shivered. "That music? It's us. Coming. The Orgasmic Fairy Theme."

  "Oh." He gulped. Her pussy was getting decidedly shiny. "The potion won't just slip out, huh?"

  "Nope. We fairies do some pretty strenuous workouts, ya know. Gotta keep that pussy real tight and snappy for our heroes. It's in there until you make me squirt it out."

  Sir Lincoln thought about it. Or tried to think about it, learning in that instant how hard it was to focus on one thing with his brain while his other head was totally in the moment with something else.

  "No fucking?" He wanted to be sure he got this right.

  "No fucking. Just a helluva nice bit of oral." The fairy paused. "Of course you can use your fingers if you want. Nothing in the rules says no on that. As a matter of fact..." She thought for a second or two and then nodded to herself. "You can use pretty much anything—except your sword." A wicked grin crossed her lips as she peeked at the bulge in his tights. "Either of 'em."

  "And this helps me with Zara how?"

  "Shit, leaf legs, you really are a bit slow, aren't you? We fairies have to know Zara's getting the best there is. You do it wrong, I'm gonna let you know about it. By the time you get to her chamber in the Tower of Chaos, baby, you're gonna have a tongue on you that could make a hooker weep."

  "That's another game. We don't have any hookers in this one."

  The fairy rolled her eyes and flittered closer. "Dude. You want your potion or not? I'm getting hotter than a volcano here. It doesn't count if I do it myself. So suck me off, will you? And stop fucking discussing it."

  He had no choice in the matter. If he wanted the potion—and he did—if he wanted to advance more levels into the game—and he did—if he wanted to finally achieve the ultimate goal, rescue Zara and fuck her brains out her left ear—and he really really did—then he'd just have to do what was required.

  Sometimes a hero's gotta do what a hero's gotta do. He tossed his hat aside, stuck his sword in the ground next to him and stepped forward.

  Sir Lincoln of Green raised his hands, filled them with soft, warm fairy ass cheeks and drew her close. "Here goes."

  She tasted of moonbeams and honeysuckle. Or nectar. Or something along those lines. Whatever it was, she was sweet and hot and extremely responsive. She was also quite definite about what she wanted.

  "Harder. No—softer. Stop there and move a little to the left..."

  Sir Lincoln tried again, this time sucking on the shiny pussy lips with more force while slithering his tongue through her folds.

  "Yeah. Better. Oooooh—much better."

  Satisfied, he moved in for the kill. She might think she needed to teach him a thing or two, but Sir Lincoln's own education hadn't been totally neglected. He gave her a dash of his specialty—the Green Oriental Dragonfly technique. A swift fluttering of his tongue over her clit, followed by pressure just beneath it and a hard stroke upward along the base of the tiny nubbin.

  "Oh...oh...holy fucking shit! That's goooood..." Her wings flapped madly, blowing Sir Lincoln's hair all over the place. "Don't fucking stop. I swear I'll turn you into a fucking demon if you stop..." Her delicate hands grabbed his wafting locks with the strength of a couple of fully licensed wrestling champions and her language deteriorated as her orgasm neared.

  "Motherfucking...shit...oh yeah, make my pussy fucking hot...fuck..."

  Sir Lincoln was nothing if not thorough at his job. He licked, sucked, teased, toyed, backed off and then returned to do it again. Part of his mind was justifying the whole episode as a necessary part of his quest.

  Another part of his mind was cataloging the various techniques he was using and quietly applauding as each one seemed to attain the desired result.

  A third part of his mind was just grinning and drooling a little.

  The fourth part of his mind, the bit located in his cock, was screaming like hell and demanding to know why it wasn't part of the action too.

  "God—ohgodohgodohgod—"

  "Mrmplph?"

  "Yes, asshole. Now..."

  She went rigid in his hands, her wings shaking, her muscles harder than iron. Her scream as she convulsed nearly shattered his eardrums, but Sir Lincoln—like the stalwart hero he was—hung bravely on to the fairy orgasming around his face.

  And also kept an eye on the potion bottle at the same time.

  She shivered and shook, cried, coughed and whimpered, her belly rolling in waves of erotic spasms, her pussy lips twitching madly.

  Sir Lincoln eased his mouth away from her as she relaxed and reached for the bottle. It slid freely into his hand accompanied by about a quart of fairy liquid and a sigh of fairy satisfaction.

  She stirred and flew slowly away from him to collapse untidily on a small, moss-covered bank. "Holy fucking sucker, dude." Limply she brushed a bit of sweaty hair off her face. "If you use your cock as well as you use your tongue—Zara's one lucky bitch. You tell
her I said so."

  Sir Lincoln was busy wiping the bottle dry with a petal from some huge bloom. "Sure. Glad to be of service." He grinned as he tucked the bottle into the special slot in his belt and his life bar zoomed all the way up to full. "Um...I hate to suck and run, but I have to continue on with my quest."

  The fairy twitched a wing limply. "Sure. Good luck. I'm gonna take myself a nice long nap here." She stirred a little and farted, sending showers of fairy dust glittering into the air around her. "Sorry. Orgasms give me gas." She yawned. "So you got the idea? You want the potion from now on, you have to not only find the fairy but find the fairy clit too. They come together."

  Sir Lincoln sighed at the really bad pun. "I got it. Thanks. See ya."

  She was already snoring.

  - - -

  Unaware that her hero was still licking the taste of a fairy off his lips, Zara was busily anticipating a little pleasure of her own.

  She too had managed to push all thoughts of Sir Lincoln to the back of her mind while Thunder loomed bluishly over her like the dark clouds whose name he bore. His body brushed hers, his hands were everywhere and she eagerly awaited the lightning she figured he ought to be packing in his crotch.

  His cock felt bloody wonderful as it thudded heavily against her thighs. She took the hint and spread her legs wide, knowing her juices were leaking all over the damn place. He'd gotten her hot.

  Okay, so it hadn't taken a whole lot of foreplay to get her that aroused—she'd been on edge for too damn long already. But regardless of her former state, she was now ready. More than ready.

  "Any time now would be good, Thunder." She figured a quick bit of encouragement wouldn't hurt.

  "Yes. We shall achieve Nirvana together. A moment of bliss before the shadows of the future claim us like a fog rolling in from the ocean of doom. It cannot be stopped."

  Zara rolled her eyes. "You're not exactly helping the moment along with that melancholia shit, you know."

  He merely grunted and moved himself into position.

  "Oh yeah. Now that's more like it." She felt the head of his cock touching her pussy.

  And stopping.

  She swallowed. "Thunder?" She lifted one eyelid. "I think this is where you're supposed to thrust? Plunder me or something?"

  "Er..."

  Zara felt his body tense as he pushed forward. And nothing happened.

  She blinked, opening both eyes to see an expression of confusion crossing his solemn face. "Is there a problem?"

  Another grunt followed. His body was moving forward, without question. But she sure wasn't getting a cock where she needed it. "It's that bit between my thighs? The bit that's probably all kind of shiny and pink right now? You know...my pussy?"

  The head of his cock shivered against her skin and he moaned long and loud. The sound was followed by a distinct spattering of droplets over her pussy. Apparently the storm had broken and it was raining.

  Thunder collapsed heavily on top of her, driving the air from her lungs with a whoosh.

  Oh fucking swell. Thunder had boomed prematurely. Shit shit shit. Zara bit back an oath of frustration. It wasn't his fault she supposed. He'd probably never had Princess pussy before.

  "My destiny is to fail." He muttered the words into her shoulder. "I am forced to accept my lot, to accept the magic that has condemned me to a life unfulfilled."

  Gently Zara rolled him off her, dragging in a breath as she did so. Her arousal withered a little as she observed the glittering blue come adorning her thighs and pussy. "I wouldn't exactly say unfulfilled there, cute ears."

  Said ears twitched slightly. "Whatever." Thunder heaved a massive sigh. "I tried." He rose from the bed and reached for his robe, dressing himself slowly. "There appears to be something protecting you, Zara."

  "Huh?"

  "I sense a magic within your quite beautiful pussy. It guards those lips, reveals the luscious folds but will not permit them to be parted." Another massive sigh. "Had I known I might have tried a few other spells beforehand. But time grows short and I must depart to meet my destiny."

  "Yeah sure. Come and run. I get it. Typical...er...mage." Zara wrinkled her nose. "This...this protection...you say it's magic?"

  "You a virgin?"

  "Um...no."

  "So it's not some kind of external maidenhead. Gotta be magic." He shrugged and picked up his scythe with a clatter, shaking his white hair back into its customary soft waterfall of tresses.

  Zara wondered if he used a special conditioning spell, then dragged her thoughts back to the problem at hand. Or, more accurately, at crotch. "So...it's like a magical chastity belt or something?"

  Thunder thought about that for some time as he fastened his belt and hefted his scythe into position.

  Zara waited.

  Thunder glanced in her mirror and twitched a tress or two, then flicked some dust from the blade of his scythe.

  Zara continued to wait.

  Finally, Thunder spoke. "Yes." He opened the door and left, carefully making sure his scythe didn't get caught on the way out.

  "Well, thanks for the blue man grope..." Zara yelled after him, but the door was already closed.

  She thumped back down onto her bed. So frickin' close too. Her head tossed on the pillow and her eyes fastened on the framed photo of a young man in green tights, standing on her bedside table. "Shit, Sir Lincoln. I'm just trying to take the edge off, you know? It's not like I've forgotten you or anything. I just don't know how long I can wait...and if you don't make it here this time..."

  She sighed. "Christ. Now I'm starting to sound like a depressed elf wizard mage myself."

  Zara pulled herself out of bed and checked the mirror to make sure she hadn't turned blue. Nope. Still the same creamy skin and long dark hair. Not quite as silky as Thunder's, but respectable. She made a mental note to check into the question of conditioners.

  Her gaze dropped to her pussy, where dark curls were shaped neatly into the zig-zag of a thunderbolt. She was damned if she could see any reason why she couldn't get fucked. There was no cast-iron thong barring anybody's way. Nobody had ever told her she had an invisible chastity belt.

  She didn't dare touch herself, of course. That was totally and absolutely forbidden by the Great Programmers. Main characters were not allowed to masturbate under any circumstances. The rules were explicit, citing the risk of such activities appearing on screen and shocking the crap out of players.

  Zara secretly believed it was just a whim on the part of the Great Programmers who probably, in her opinion, did way too much whacking off themselves and just couldn't be bothered to write the script for any of their characters to do the same thing.

  She shrugged. Time to hit the shower. Blue Thunder hadn't made her come, but he'd sure made her messy.

  She wondered what Sir Lincoln was doing and took a quick glance at the progress screen. Ooooh. The level was at the top of the green section and showed no signs of dropping.

  Wasn't that encouraging? Maybe this time...

  Princess Zara whistled her theme tune as she scrubbed herself clean in the shower—and hoped...

  Chapter Three

  Overlooking the turbulent, wind-tossed waters of the Seas of Evil

  Sir Lincoln squelched along the shores of the aptly named Seas of Evil. He couldn't help the squelching, since his green boots had soaked up the beach slime quicker than a wink. He grimaced at each step, wondering if Zara would mind a lover with pruney toes.

  It was going to get worse too. He had to go grab more potions from the Mermaid Fairy. Only then could he reach the enchanted Seaweed Island and claim the Magic Sword all for himself.

  Thus armed to the gills—and pardoning himself the pun—he stood a damn good chance of confronting Noxious. And maybe even defeating him. Or de-heading him, whichever came first.

  Then—and only then—he, Sir Lincoln, could shed his god-awful tights, free his aching cock and finally boink Zara 'til they were both exhausted. He sighed. It wasn't alway
s fun being a hero. Sure, the extermination thing was neat. Offing bad guys was guaranteed to put some steel into one's spine. But this whole wet-boot business left a lot to be desired.

  He double-checked his equipment with care. Friendly Flippers—check. Potion bottle—check. Magic re-breather unit—check. He devoutly hoped the player remembered to equip him with it, or his potion bottle contents were gonna get used up real quick and he was going to gargle himself to death on the waters of the Evil Seas.

  A sudden shiver followed by a thunk and a chord or two of theme music reassured him. Tada! He was now quite capable of surviving in a liquid environment. Nothing ventured—nothing wet. With a deep breath, Sir Lincoln of Green strode boldly into the rough waters.

  And promptly fell over. Friendly Flippers apparently weren't too friendly when walking, only when swimming. Ramming his hat firmly on his head, he let the current take him and soon found himself paddling happily down into the depths of the ocean.

  Several interested fish swam by, giving him a polite nod of welcome. He waved back. Several more—larger—fish appeared, looking quite interested. This time he waved the hand with the sword in it.

  They got the hint and decided to take their school activities elsewhere.

  A few seemed to find him fascinating, though, darting around him, playing with the bubbles plopping out of his nose and mouth, and generally making a nuisance of themselves. He'd seen them before someplace, trailing anything that might possibly produce edible morsels in its wake. He wasn't planning on stopping for a snack or a couple of cookies at this point so he tried to ignore them. He didn't have any cookies. For some reason, heroes were fed a steady diet of things like chunks of beef and the occasional chicken leg or two. Stout hearty protein for questing, but not exactly guaranteed to make a dessert-lover leap for joy.

  He would have liked a cookie right now. A big chocolate-chip one with walnuts in it, warm from the oven...

  Distracted, Sir Lincoln jerked his thoughts back to his underwater trek only to realize one fish was very close and pursing its fishy lips at him. Almost as if it was ready for a kiss.