The Life Cycle of the Lesser Blue Fairy (MF anal fist size magic rom) Part 3/4 You don't believe in fairies? This one could change your life forever. DISCLAIMER: This work of fiction contains sexual situations not suitable for children. It may not be reproduced in any way where readers are charged for it. Copyright reserved. Chapter Three - Butterfly (You really do have to read Chapters 1 & 2 first. Currently at /files/Authors/Old-Softy/Blue_fairy_1.txt) In which our hero works some things out, and our heroine takes charge. In a symbyotic relationship, unlike a parasitical one, the host can gain as much as the vector. 19.14 Saturday 3rd July 2004 I've been doing some research, and I have to note this down. Photo albums. I've looked through the old photos of both of us, and it is NOT just that I am seeing her properly for the first time. I look at the picture and I look at her, asleep, and she has really changed. In the pictures, she used to be ... okay, but fairly ordinary. You know, good old Celia. Now she is just stunning. As for me, I look in the mirror, and again, I have changed too. I can't put my finger on it, but frankly now I'm pretty cool. That's Number 1. I went out and bought an anatomy book, a text book on the human body. It's actually a school revision book, for "A" levels in think, but it's really interesting. I never knew half of how we are put together - they ought to make everyone learn this. But I have been looking for certain things in particular. My cock. That's Number 2. I have been reading this log just to check on what has happened since, you know what, and sure enough I got stiff. So I got out the tape measure and, on the top, from the join to the tip is fifteen inches. The book says range five to eight, median six, star turn nine. So what's with this monster? Number 3. Blue. Nowhere does it mention any thing about the colour of bodily fluids, but I know blue should not be on the menu. The juice from her cunt, my spunk... I've just licked a piece of white paper to check my own saliva. Not strong, not like my cum, but the wet patch has a clear blue tinge. Number 4. The clincher. The diagrams of a woman's parts are pretty fascinating. What comes across is that not much of it is designed to give us pleasure. Sorry guys. Most of it is to do with making babies. Making babies is such an extraordinary thing that I don't suppose this should surprise me. Now I've worked it out, it's clear that last time, the head of my cock ended up buried right in Celia's uterus, her womb. That's what felt so good. Her cervix was what was gripping me. It's also clear that it's completely impossible. The angle's wrong, the shape's wrong, and finally that's what the cervix is there for - to keep out nasty foreign objects like my prick. So how? And why no damage? And the answer is ... Ariel. It has to be. I mean two weirdly supernatural things like this must be linked. Strange to say, I have hardly thought about her today. I feel quite disloyal, but now the whole thing with her seems like a dream. I had to re-read this log to remember all the details, and I just cannot bring back the way I used to feel about her. I guess that's how I feel about Celia, now instead. But reading it makes it clear. She knew what was going to happen when we finally actually did it. She knew it, and went ahead any way. She knew what would happen to her body, and it was her idea for us to eat it. So that's the trigger, whatever was in that blue glass statuette was what started these changes. That's WHAT happened. But why? 10.22 Sunday 4th July 2004 I decided to come clean with Celia. Partly because I think she ought to know, I mean she must be wondering about all this weird shit; partly in case it's dangerous, but mostly because I love her. This is too big, and I want us to share everything from now on. Our new life starts here. Of course it did not go as I had planned. When I got back to the bedroom last night she had changed into a simple grey skirt and white top, and was looking pretty hot. (Actually I don't think there is anything in her wardrobe she couldn't make look hot.) She kept the blue shirt dress, she explained with big sad eyes, just in case there was another time I felt like ripping her clothes off and raping her. I felt terrible and started apologising before I caught her wicked grin. "You little ... " I cried and grabbed for her, while she rolled around on the bed gurgling with laughter and delight. When the romp and the making out that followed was threatening to turn into something a little hotter, I called a halt. "Look, we have to talk." She stopped, sighed, and sat next to me, gazing into my eyes. "All this stuff that's been happening to us, well, it's not just you and me." I started. "Well of course not, you lunk," she interrupted, and then went on in a serious tone. "Look, Mike, I didn't like all the hours you used to spend in your den on the computer. I sure didn't like what I learnt last night about your chat room girl friend and your cybersex. But if she's ...if she really is dead, then I forgive her and I forgive you. You were pretty cut up about it but even you must realise that if she did commit suicide, it was NOT your fault." She stared at me, hard. "Okay?" "Yes, but I didn't say ... I mean she did, but it's not" I started but she steam-rollered over me. "And if the drugs in that little present she sent us really were meant for you and me, as a couple, to get us together like this, then I forgive her anything. I hope she IS still alive, and if not, I hope her soul is happy." I gazed back at her for a week or two before the power of speech returned. Here was I being so clever working it out, where Celia just spotted the link immediately. "But what about the changes. Haven't you noticed, we are actually physically different?" "Well, of course. Silly boy. You think a girl never looks in the mirror?" She got up and stood in front of the full length mirror on the old Victorian wardrobe. She stroked her top over her high round breasts (no bra, I could not help noticing), and swung her hips to make the pleated skirt swing and ride up on her thighs. "God, I would forgive anything to the person who did this for me." She turned and grinned at me. "And who remembered to zap you so you actually noticed." She danced towards me on those long, long legs, chuckling, hips swinging that skirt at each step. "And, I may be innocent in these things, but even I know that a weapon like you're packing these days is NOT natural." Before I could stop her, she was on her knees in front of me, tugging my belt buckle free. "But aren't you worried? We don't know what's going to happen next!" I protested weakly, as she jerked my trousers and pants down, freeing the beast. She stopped for a second, and gazed up at me, big blues eyes shining. "Honey, I love you. The day before yesterday I was desperately worried I was going to lose you. Whatever is happening here, I am so grateful, so happy." She returned to the business in hand. "And I'm determined to enjoy it before it all disappears like a dream!" Before I could say another thing she won the argument by wrapping her lips around the shiny end, and her hands around the base. God, she hadn't forgotten anything since the morning. It was after four or five minutes of this bliss, that she showed what she was capable of. She took first one, then the other hand away and put them behind her back. Then, jerk by jerk, she impaled herself on my cock, forcing it down her throat until her nose was pressed against my lower belly. I couldn't believe it was happening. I couldn't believe the feeling. There was a resistance, and then suddenly my prick head was through it, and was being clutched by something tight and vibrating, inside her. I was touching her hair and her face, and in disbelief I gingerly felt her neck. The bulge of my prick head was clear in her throat, moving down and down while she thrust herself onto me. God, it was way down near her collar bone. I just exploded, and felt the pulsing under my fingers as load after load of spunk squirted down her neck, straight into her stomach, while her body shook with the spasms of her own orgasm. It took me a moment to recover my senses, but as soon as I had, I dragged my softening prick out of her. It seemed to be pulling out from her lips for ever, and as soon as it was clear she gave a great gasp and sucked in air as if she had been under water. Of course, how could she have breathed? Really concerned, I gathered her up in my arms, and we collapsed back onto the bed together. However, after a couple of deep breaths she turned to me on one elbow and beamed, seemingly none the worse for wear. "Did you see me?" she said proudly, still panting, in an amazing husky voice. "Proper deep throat. I can do it!" "You sure can" I replied, amazed. "Are you sure you are all right?" "Oh, yes. Well, maybe a bit sore in my throat." she husked, still sounding like Eartha Kit. "But, you know, it's just a question of overriding the gag reflex. And I came at the same time as you did! As soon as you started to pump into me. What do you think of your sexy wife now!" That's the trouble. Now I have no idea what to think. I looked it up. Human throat. Guess what, even if it feels like it, the man's cock doesn't really go down the girl's neck. It's too narrow, the wrong shape, the wrong angle, and the phalanx would get in the way. So why was my dick reaching down to her collar bone? Even though it's big enough to reach, I must have been half way down her oesophagus. No wonder she couldn't breath. So that's, what, Number 5? And, have you noticed that yet again we came together. Even with a blow job, really deep in her neck where there can't possibly be any nerve endings or whatever trips a girl's trigger. Number 6 is - I come, it makes her come. I wonder if it works in reverse. 23.56 Sunday 4th July 2004 I have decided to take a leaf out of Celia's book, and just go with the flow. I can't pretend to understand what is happening, but what can I do? Trot along to the local hospital and ask if they have any specialists on impossible body penetrations? Sure. The more I think about it, the more I realise we should keep all this very quiet. And in the mean time, I'm going to lie back and enjoy the show. Which is just as well, because when we went to bed tonight, she pulled another one on me. We were getting ready for bed, or at least I was, while she got in my way trying on all her night wear in different combinations to see what was going to be the most difficult for me to ignore. The winner seemed to be a boring pyjama top of mine that had lost its buttons, got shrunk in the wash, and had been put out to be a cleaning cloth. Until she wore it, tails tied together under her breasts, with nothing else. How come a piece of clothing makes her MORE naked? She was bad enough simply nude, but now ... She danced just out of reach, with her back to me, winking over her shoulder, as if the silly top actually clothed her while her bottom and long legs oscillated beneath. I reached out to grab her thighs and softly took the round soft flesh of her left butt in my mouth. "Mmmmm. You want some ass, tiger?" she growled. "Then come and take some!" Before you could shake a tail she was on the bed on all fours, beautiful legs apart, breasts swinging, looking over her shoulder at me with such a hungry expression that I almost came when I caught her eye. Where did she learn to shake her bottom like that! I licked her rosebud asshole without even thinking of it (mint flavour ? !) and noticed that blue tinge again. I lined him up, but hesitated. My prick looked enormous. Did this really fit in here yesterday morning? Wasn't this going to hurt her? "Oh go on" she groaned, and dropping her face and shoulders down onto the bed reached behind with both hands and pulled her ass cheeks apart. As she stretched it all to display the bud of the opening it seemed to swell and ripen so invitingly. With my thumb I spread more of the strangely blue saliva around and into it, revelling in the slick feeling of the opening and the stretched slippery skin around it. I lined up the head of my cock, pushed down, and was in. Wow. She didn't stop. She pushed back against me, egged me on, begged for more, and, unlike last time, it just kept going in. It was pretty good. I won't go into details, but amazingly it was as if we both knew what we were doing. She took all of me, pushing back against me until each resistance was overcome, and I ended up with my belly tight on her luscious buttocks, feeling as if my prick was about to emerge near her belly button. It took only a few touches around her clit to set off the old chain reaction, and I pumped stuff into her for so long it felt like it should have been coming out of her ears. Number 7. The human rectum is about five inches long when full. I was in Celia all the way. Looking at the cross section in the book, I don't think I was imagining pushing against her belly button. I bet I really was. With my fifteen inches I should have been making dents in the bed. So what happened to all the stuff in-between? What is happening in her body? 09.38 Monday 5th July 2004 I've decided to call in sick today. Well if I am not sick I am certainly not my usual self! We woke late this morning. But not together - I was woken up by the sensation of soft lips carefully engulfing the end of my tool. It seems she had stirred first, and the sight of my "morning" erection was too much to resist so she decided to return yesterday morning's favour. I was in no position to complain, flat on my back and barely able to think for the feeling in my cock. However when she disengaged only to climb over me and carefully lined herself up over it, I started to get worried. "Hush, honey" she shushed me. "That blue magic ... huh ... has it covered ... ahhh ... you're so sweet ... huh ... to worry but ... huh ... I think my insides will ... ahhhh ... take anything now ... huh ... huh ..." and with each breath she worked herself further down until she was sitting on my hips with the whole thing buried inside her and a grin like the cat who got the canary. God, the sight of her sitting, on display, on my tummy with my thing swallowed inside her. The feel of her, all within reach and waiting for me, her pretty grimacing face, her round shoulders, her soft hot nippled breasts, her flat toned stomach. There was a dent in her stomach, just above her belly button, moving as we moved, and I knew what it was. I reached out to push it gently and I could FEEL my push with head of my knob. I came immediately, and of course, she was hot on my heels. Wow. How can I complain? Talk about gift horses. But I worry about her. I mean, if I was in her womb before, where was I now? If I was to hurt her I couldn't bear it. Maybe I should ask her - she always was the only sensible one in this marriage. Don't get me wrong, I am so pleased to have her like this and I know we're so lucky. But I just don't get all this shit. It's not quite believable, and now I am beginning to get a little bit ... frightened. 10.25 Monday 5th July 2004 This is Celia. Mike said he had something to explain, and then he brought me in here, and showed me, on his computer. This log. I have read it all. I have sent him off to work. He has to do something normal, to stop him from worrying so much. Me, I do not work on Mondays, which is often useful. If nothing else, I get a day to catch up on the mess he makes over a weekend. I should say that I cannot believe it. But the strange thing is that I can, I do. I had been in some sort of denial up to now. This thing with him and me since we ate that little glass figurine, has been so great that I have not dared think, not dared question anything. But incredible as it seems, now it all hangs together. Of course his stuff in the log is hopeless. Trust a man. All that stuff about the sex. I can hardly read it - it is worse than a Mills and Boon novel (which, by the way, I do NOT read) - and he left out all the facts, the interesting things. There is no proper observation, no system, no record of this amazing experience that would be any use to a proper scientist. These changes that are happening to us could be really important. So I have insisted that I am going to keep this journal from now on. 20.19 Tuesday 6th July 2004 I have decided we need a continuous record of the changes. So each day I will record the size of his penis, measured erect, along the top surface to the tip, and my vital statistics. Of course he has to be hard to measure it properly - we have to be consistent here. And I have to look after him afterwards. Well we must all make a little sacrifice in the cause of science. I did wonder about some internal measurement for me but I cannot think how to do it repeatably. And I must record our activity, of course. So last night and today it is; PL (penis length) 16.5; stats (Hip, waist, bust, bra size) 34-26- 38-DD; Action , VPx1 (lounge), Cx2 (lounge, garden) APx1 (bedroom) I am using a code to keep it short. VP = Vaginal Penetration, C = Cunnilingus, etc. I probably should try and record the time duration but for some reason I never remember to look at the clock. 20.10 Wednesday 7th July 2004 PL 17, stats 34-26-38-DD, Action VPx1 (kitchen), Cx3 (I think - I may have lost count somewhere) (mostly garden) VPx1 + APx1 + Fx2 (bedroom) (do I count orgasms or separate events?) Maybe I should only count them separately if there is a decent break in between. F means fellatio by the way. Should I distinguish deep throat? Mind you that IS the only way I do it these days. Mike is helping me measure breast volume to work out cup size, but I am not sure how accurate his method is. I will let him continue since it makes him feel useful. It makes me feel ... well anyway I will let him continue. 20.56 Thursday 8th July 2004 PL 17, stats 34-26-38-E, Actio I cant do thsi Back after a break. I am here in the study alone. My eyes sting and my cheeks are wet. I have been reading the old log again. Up to the part where .. where she dies. I can't read any more. I didn't really take it in first time. Oh yes, I got the headlines, the blue light, the fairy, the amazing penis. But now I understand. He was in love with her. Loved her. He was completely in love with this fantasy figure and killed her. Poor, poor boy. I remember him now, weeping incoherently in my arms. God, how wrong was I, about the chat room fling and all that. I should feel jealous, but for some reason I'm just ... sad. I did not even get to see her, not once. And now I never will. 20.25 Friday 9th July 2004 PL 17.5, stats 34-26-39-E, Action VPx1, Fstx1 (study) VPx3or4 (bedroom) This thing that is happening to us, it is not just about sex. We feel so well, so healthy, that I am surprised the glow is not visible. We are both much stronger than we were, particularly Mike. He can just lift me up, and support me in any position , which is great when we are trying to ... well anyway, he can support my weight for hours. We have not had a sniffle nor do I ever seem to feel cold, no matter what (or how little!) I wear outdoors. But the strangest thing happened this evening, when I was chopping carrots for supper. I cook mostly, and I have the kitchen arranged just how I like it, with a place for everything and everything in its place. But Mike has always liked to hang around and keep me company. We chat while I potter around, and he is quite good at the simple tasks I give him. But tonight he crept up and, well I think the phrase is, "goosed" me. The knife slipped and I cut my finger really deeply. I squealed and immediately sucked the cut, how you do. But within about 30 seconds it stopped hurting. And when I pulled it away from my mouth to look at it, I could see the cut getting shorter until there was only a pink line left, and then that disappeared. In three minutes there was no sign at all of what I had done. It looks like we have some sort of healing powers - no wonder Mike can stick that thing right up inside me without it hurting! 20.39 Saturday 10th July 2004 PL 18, stats 34-26-39-E, Action VPx2 (lounge) VPx3 (bedroom) I love having him in me, just love him, so much. Maybe we are calming down, maybe we are getting used to it, but it now it lasts longer and I can actually think while he is in me. I lie there and glory in the feeling, the sensations, of doing what I know we should not be able to do. God it feels good. I've been thinking about what Mike wrote in the journal about us. Never mind the fairy, what is strange is to discover what this man, that I thought I knew, actually felt about me. You see I was never really in love, even in the beginning. To me, he was a meal ticket, a way to get out of my parents house, and yet maybe I blamed him for our loveless marriage. Now I think about it I was pretty tough on him most of the time. But he never strayed, although I must have been pretty grim to live with sometimes. He did not take up gambling or prostitutes or drink, and I am fairly sure he did not even flirt with the girls at work. All because ... well as far as I can make out, it is just that he liked me. And to me, the old Saturday night "date" in bed was really special. I thought I was being sooooo brazen, and so clever in keeping my man faithful with my regular weekly dose of irresistible sex. Instead it turns out he put up with it to keep me happy. (Which really worked by the way - well these things *are* relative.) God I was such a sanctimonious bore. And Mike was just ... one of the good guys. Mike, even if you are not reading these entries now, I know that some day you will. And this is for you. I love you. I am in love with you. I love you. And I can make it up to you now. I do not know where this strange business will end up, whether we will end up super-humans, or dead, or even just back how we were. But whatever happens I promise that I will never return to being like that. From now on every part of me, every hole, every inch of my surface, is yours to use and abuse in any way you can imagine. You can do what you like with me. If I could manage it I would spend the rest of my life with your prick inside me. I am yours. 20.15 Sunday 11th July 2004 PL 18.5, stats 34-25-39-E, Action VPx1, Fstx1 (study) VPx3or4 (bedroom) I need a new code for this thing which I understand is called "fisting". That is what "Fst" means. I could never have imagined it before. I mean he has always been magic with his fingers, even in the old days. It was the only time I ever really let loose. But putting his whole hand up my ... And now it is not foreplay. What he does with his hand up inside me - well that is the main event. What is amazing is that apparently people do this WITHOUT that healing thing that Mike and I have got. Did I mention that since the wall of my uterus has been breached, his penis goes right up into my body cavity? And it has been getting further up inside me. On top of that, my insides are becoming sensitive. It is difficult to describe, but basically your internal organs and surfaces do not actually have much in the way of nerve endings. Or not usually. Not much point, I suppose. When he was in me before, although the overall sensation was always great, it was more like a pressure, a warmth, that filled me. But now I can tell what is going on as if it was the surface of my arm. I still love his penis, in my womb, in my anus, down my neck. But you cannot imagine how intimate it is, mind blowing, to have the man you love caressing the INSIDE of your belly with his fingers. 20.16 Monday 12th July 2004 PL 19, stats 34-25-39-E, Action VPx3(all garden), Fstx1 (study) VPx2, Fx1, Cx1 (bedroom) Must prune the roses. The things you spot on your back. I do not understand why I am so calm about all this. Maybe the changes affect my mind as well, so I do not mind. Last night we were lying on the carpet in the living room with a few cushions about, and he was right inside me, with his hand. Well, never mind his hand. He had his head on my thigh and shoulder against my vagina, with his whole right arm roaming around inside my torso, exploring. I could feel his every touch, even when he brushed against the underside of my lungs. I could breath against his fingers. 21.45 Tuesday 13th July 2004 This is Mike. Celia can't write this. Well she could, the silly girl, but she's in a bit of a state. I was just sitting down in front of the TV when I heard her cry out, from the bathroom. When I rushed to the door I discovered it was locked, but I could hear her whimpering, then weeping, inside. She opened it after I had been banging for what seemed like hours but I guess was only a minute. She was naked to the waist, and had blood streaming down from under her left breast. Even without the crying it was pretty garbled but she had clearly cut herself somehow, pretty deeply. Then I don't know what grabbed me but I bent down and licked the cut. Stupid, but it was completely the right thing to do. The bleeding stopped almost immediately. So I held up her boob up with my hand, put my head right down, and licked the wound, putting my tongue right into the gash so I could feel the cut flesh with it. It was pretty weird - have you ever licked a raw steak? And this wet red meat was my live wife, my darling. But as I did, her flesh just grew back together again. In about half a minute, there was nothing to see that anything had happened, and although shocked and scared, she was fine. It was another ten minutes of holding her on the sofa, before I got the truth out of her. It's almost funny, she is so apologetic, and so embarrassed. She seems to be more worried about frightening me than about the fact that she might have permanently scarred herself. Apparently she got this idea that this blue business has somehow made us - not immortal - but impervious to damage. And for some reason she got it into her head that she wanted to have me feel INSIDE her boobs. Tweak her nips from the other side. So she was going to cut a gap big enough for me to get my hand in. With a Stanley knife, would you credit it. It is still lying there, on the bathroom floor in the blood. Nuts. Sweet, interestingly perverted even, but nuts. So when she's settled down, I think we are going to have a little talk about what we can and can't do with this strange thing that's going on. (But I have made a mental note that it seems blue saliva can heal almost anything.) 20.40 Wednesday 14th July 2004 PL 19, stats 34-24-39-E, Action Fstx2 (lounge) VPx3 (bedroom) Mike is such a good guy. I don't know why I never saw it before, but somehow, over the years, he ... well he knows how I tick, and there is something in me that just relies on his being there. How can I not have loved him before? Or maybe I was in love with him, and just never noticed it. He was so great just talking to me, and putting it all in perspective. It IS far out, what is going on, but that does not mean that real life is not going on at the same time. Yes, it is special, maybe even important, but not as important as us. I realise that, while I love this new body, (and I love HIS new body,) if push came to shove I could do without either. But I could never do without him. That thing I wrote down last weekend, you know, about me being his no matter what? Well now I have told him to his face. And to see it light up, to have him hold me and kiss me like that ... Why didn't I do this years ago? Anyway, he and I are going to map my insides. Yes, him with his arm and hand up inside me. All the way inside me. Christ I am getting that warm butterfly feeling in my stomach just typing the words, and it is starting to get a bit, you know, slippery, down there. I might just go and see what he is up to. 22.16 Thursday 15th July 2004 PL 19, stats 34-23-38-E, Action VPx1, Fstx1 (study) VPx3or4 (bedroom) Today, we did the business of mapping things out. I lay on the bed, and he got into a comfortable position. I love the feel of him between my legs, the weight of his head on my inner thigh. It is as if he belongs there. So he started, well warming me up, and its sooooo good when he does that, and then I gripped his ... well any way, once we had that out of our system, had calmed down and caught our breath, he reminded me why we were there. So he gently slipped his hand in, where it was still nicely warm and lubed up. As he worked up higher and further in, he just talked to me, describing what he could feel, while I tried to tell him what I thought he was touching. Talk about torture - having to remain lucid, trying to be clear and detached and scientific, while his fingers were roaming around inside me! It is pretty amazing, the changes. First off, lots of things are just missing. Most of my bowels, small and large intestine, that sort of stuff. As far as we can tell there is a liver, kidneys, and spleen, but none of the other, well, offal, left. And yet I feel fine. Better than fine - I feel great. So what IS there? Lungs for sure, the heart we can both feel beating, a straight tube from my neck down to a spherical stomach, and then a pretty straight piece of intestine to the rectum. Vagina, uterus, body cavity of my torso if he goes in one way. Anus, rectum, short stretch of intestine up to my stomach if he goes in the other. Nice and simple, eh? It certainly helps explain my wasp-like waist! And then, the magic blue goo is everywhere. My saliva, my vaginal juices, Mike's ejaculate, his pre-cum, what leaks out of my nipples when he really gets me going - it all seems to be the same stuff. Everything inside me must be coated with it, because he can feel it everywhere, and we think that my even stomach fluids are made of that or something pretty similar, because he can stick his hand right in and splash it about. I can hear you think "Eww" but it is not like that. When it is him and me, it is all beautiful and there are no limits. It covers his hand when he pulls it out. (oh, that strange sucking feeling and the feeling of emptiness afterwards!) But then, it disappears, as if it evaporates or is absorbed into his skin. Three minutes later, his hands are clean and dry, and any on my thighs, say, is gone as well. Which rings a bell. Where have I heard or read of that sort of thing happening before? 20.23 Friday 16th July 2004 PL 20, stats 34-21-39-E, Action VPx2, Fstx1 (car) Mx1, VPx1 (garden) VP at least 3 (bedroom) He can still surprise me. There we were, lying wrapped up in each other on the bed, panting and recovering from the first bout, and I asked him if he liked my new baby doll nighty. The white one that was lying in a silk puddle on the floor by the bed. And you know what he answered? He chuckled; "Honey, it's lovely. Looks almost as good on you as it does off." (I think I knew what he meant) "But there is one thing of yours that is sexier than anything else you could ever wear." I was puzzled. "The black lace bodice, with the laces?" He had seemed struck by that, before it got ripped. But he shook his head, to that and all my other suggestions. "Think laterally" he suggested. "You are always wearing it. You never take it off." "My smile!" I beamed, hopefully. He laughed again. "Almost. Except when you are getting carried away, when its less of a smile and more ... oo .. oo .. oo " He proceeded with this ridiculous imitation of an extrovert chimpanzee having an orgasm. He had to crush me to his chest to get out of the pummelling I was giving him. Of course he would not let on, even when I tickled him in the ribs, really hard. He is so strong, the bastard. But then he slays me. By reaching over and gently taking my left hand in his, then tapping his wedding ring against mine. "This thing", he whispers, while he holds me with his other arm and pauses. He looks deep into my eyes, and the rest of the room swims. "this thing, that means that you are mine and I am yours. You want to turn me on; then wear this ring and nothing else." What can you do? Well I know there is only one thing I can do. Fuck his sweet brains out on every possible occasion. End of Chapter Three The Final Chapter is currently at; /files/Authors/Old-Softy/Blue_fairy_4.txt