The Trouble With Elves

It is a warm evening and he has thrown most of the covers off, baring his chest and one of his legs, which is wrapped around the sheet that covers his other leg and groin. The pale blue moonlight streaming in through the window affords her a well-lit view of his chiseled body. He is fine and there is no doubt about it. He almost looks too perfect, too much like a youthful male elf. He has one arm across his belly and the other cocked above his head. His fingers loosely curl around the headboard like he is posing for a spread in an erotic magazine for humans.

She takes a deep breath, trying to decide if she should go forward or simply retreat to her room. She wrestles internally with the question until finally, lust wins out over logic. This is after all something elves just don’t do. This is a human thing. But when in the human world, do as the humans do, right? She slips the short, shear robe off her shoulders. It simply flutters silently to the floor. Underneath, she wears a silky white camisole with spaghetti straps and nothing else. Lace formed the V between her ample breasts. Her heavy breathing is making them rise and fall. Her hard nipples are clearly visible.

As she gazes upon the young man before her, she grabs her breast with her hand and squeezes it, allowing her fingers to pinch the hard nub extending at the tip. Her other hand moves up the inside of her thigh to the molten area between her legs. As she slides her finger through her moist folds, the boy stirs on the bed and the sheet covering his groin shifts slightly. For a moment she thinks that she can see his balls in the dark juncture of his legs. She removes the finger from her wet slit and brings it to her mouth, sucking her own juices from her finger which only makes her even wetter.