Skittles - Sex Stories

Skittles

... weather or the local sports team. Olivia took after her sister in all the right ways. A real looker. Legs that seemed to go on forever, a nice ass, and, while her tits weren’t nearly as impressive as Valentine’s, no one in their right mind would say she didn’t have a nice pair; nice and perky, just like the expression on her face. From the photo, she seemed like a nice ‘kid’, full of summer sunshine unlike her sister’s ice queen persona. Girl like her would be easy pickings for the skittle dealers of Tinktown, especially if, as I suspected, she had any fairy blood running through her veins. I’d noticed enough of a point to Valentine’s ears to guess that, somewhere along the line, the bloodline wasn’t as pure as she’d like to pretend. Even the best of families had a penchant for philandering with the fey from time to time with few exceptions. Upon arrival, I tipped the cabbie handsomely. In my line of work, it paid to make as many people remember my mug for the right reason as possible. One never knew when catching a cab might make the difference between spending the night in bed or spending it on a slab. I took a moment to gaze up the serpentine like stairs that led to Ivy’s House of Pleasures. It was magnificent in its gaudiness. Built of marble and quartz it practically shone like a beacon beneath the light of the moon. The way led through gardens that were both wild and over grown and bursting with color. Flowers of every variety fought for dominance behind the wall that ...

... protected the small hill upon which the mansion sat, broken only by the wrought iron gate of the entrance. I chuckled, thinking, not for the first time, that it needed a huge flashing neon sign that read ‘Abandon all morals ye who enter here’ over the door. It was Tinktown’s most notorious den of iniquity. One thing that fairies had down pat was vice. It just came to them naturally. Standing upon either side of the main entry door were a pair of perfectly matched trolls who managed to look both bored and menacing at the same time. Tall, dark, and ugly number one and number two. “Gentlemen,” I said, putting on my most charming smile as I paused on the marble steps. “fifty bucks if yous wants in,” Number One announced unceremoniously. “Cash,” Number two added, unnecessarily. Trolls weren’t the most imaginative of creatures which made them perfect for door duty. “I don’t suppose you know where I might find your boss?” I asked, reaching for my wallet and mentally tabulating my expenses for the night so far. “Miss Ivy’s in da garden, playing croquet,” Number One said, both of them snickering as he slowly counted out the dough I’d handed over. Apparently I wasn’t privy to the joke. If it even was a joke. “No touching without an invitation. Food is on da house. Drinks and everything else ain’t. No fights and no trouble, or yous get tossed and me and Jasper get to show you a good time.” “Don’t worry, boys. Not here to cause trouble,” I replied, managing to hide my wince. Unlike the ...