A different kind of healing

Lux nods slowly. “All right,” she says. “If it’ll help.”

“Here we go.” Juniper sighs. “I’ll leave you to it.” With a shrug, she steps into – or through – the tree beside her, melding into it as if she were never there.

Willow doesn’t give Juniper a second glance; she has eyes only for Lux. With a certain trepidation – though not exactly **** – Lux lowers the blanket, leaving herself uncovered down to the waist. It’s not as if Willow hasn’t seen everything already…

Scooping some of the pale ointment onto her fingers, and obviously trying hard to restrain her eagerness, Willow reaches out, at first tracing her hands over Lux’s ribcage below her breasts. The cold salve makes Lux shiver – first with a momentary discomfort before the bliss of relief overtakes it. She lies back and tries to relax, finding an rising enjoyment in the sensation of Willow’s fingers moving over her skin, kneading and massaging. Little by little, the pain in her ribs fades to nothing, and she lets out a quiet sigh of contentment.

That sound is followed by increasingly loud gasps of pleasure as Willow starts to shift her attention, her delicate fingers moving closer and closer to the curves of Lux’s tits. Lux bites her lip and tries to contain herself, even as her body aches for more. She makes the mistake of looking into Willow’s amber eyes as the dryad continues her tender ministrations, momentarily tempted…

Almost unconsciously, involuntarily, Lux finds herself leaning up, moving her face closer to Willow’s. She thinks she can read something in the dryad’s eyes – a yearning, a lust – and, sure enough, as their lips brush together, a tremor goes through them both. Taking encouragement, or permission, or something, Willow brushes her fingers tantalisingly over one of Lux’s hardening nipples. A gasp of pleasure breaks from Lux’s lips.

Lux writhes helplessly as Willow’s hands move across her skin, now fully caressing her big breasts. Every one of Lux’s senses is overloaded with a conflict of impossible combinations. Willow’s touch is both pillow-soft and firmly unyielding, comfortingly warm and yet refreshingly cool, incredibly gentle and yet handling Lux’s body with irresistible ****. Even the scent of her, close to, makes Lux light-headed – flowers and honey and fresh-fallen rain, calling forth an ineffable sense of safety and welcome…

Is she making me feel this way? Is she manipulating me? The thoughts swirl drowsily in Lux’s mind. Do I even care any more…?

She closes her eyes and kisses Willow deeply, adding a confusion of heavenly tastes to the heady mix of sensations as their tongues intertwine. It no longer matters to her how much of this is a fey glamour – she wants to drink it all in, lose herself in the intoxicating haze. She’s not even conscious of reaching out towards Willow until she can feel herself touching, sliding her hands underneath that all-too-thin silk robe to caress the contours of her impossibly perfect body.

Willow moves down, kissing Lux’s neck, her breasts – hands drawing the blanket away, tracing over her belly, before they take hold of her thighs and push them tenderly but irresistibly apart. Lux feels her heart race as she realises what’s going on, Willow’s face lowering between her legs, and she can’t help but lift her hips slightly in anticipation of what is sure to happen next.

A tremor goes through Lux’s whole body as she feels the dryad’s tongue part her warm and wet folds; a deep glow of warmth pulses in her lower belly. She reaches down and her hand finds Willow’s, their fingers twining together. Breathless, all she can do is arch her back and surrender to Willow’s ministrations.

For a blissful eternity, Lux can only writhe and softly whimper in toe-curling ecstasy as Willow works whatever magic she’s doing down there: licking and sucking and teasing in exactly the right place each time. That deep warmth rises to furnace heat – she’s close, so close, she just needs a little…more…

That’s where the sensation stops. With a soft moan of disappointment, Lux opens her eyes to find that she and Willow are face to face again. The dryad puts one hand on Lux’s heaving chest while the other goes back between her legs, her fingers hovering tantalisingly. Lux bites her lip, looking into Willow’s eyes imploringly, aching for that sweet release. Charm or no charm, in this moment, she’s completely under the dryad’s spell.

“My pretty little bird,” Willow whispers, “sing for me.”

Lux takes a deep, unsteady breath – and then lets out an equally wavering, wordless cry as she feels Willow slide two fingers inside her while her thumb rubs against her clit in just the right way. That’s all it takes to unleash the inferno, to push Lux over the edge. Waves of overwhelming pleasure radiate out from the core of her being as she screams incoherent passion into the silent clearing. Once again, it is as if everything has stopped – her heart, her breathing, time itself – in a perfect moment of bliss.

When she finally lands back on…whatever world she’s ended up in, Willow is there, her hand gently stroking Lux’s chin and neck.

“Such a good girl,” Willow murmurs. “Now for your reward.”

She stands, and with a grace that shouldn’t be possible in the circumstances, swings a leg over the makeshift bed and Lux’s prone form to straddle above her. As the sculptural beauty of Willow’s perfect posterior lowers towards her waiting face, Lux has no time or energy to form any meaningful response, only to open her mouth and eagerly let the taste, the scent, the touch of Willow fill up her whole world.

Everything past that is a blur – a delirious fog of delicious sensations, from which Lux can no longer distinguish the point where it fades into sleep and dream. All she knows is that, at some point, Willow’s cries of passion echo in the glade like sweet music, and Lux’s muffled voice joins hers…

Doom decreases to 1