The air in the Costella glades was already thick and sweet with nectar and lust. Thousands of tiny fairies buzzed with frantic energy as they prepared for their daily breeding frenzy. What other species called “mating season” once a year, the fairies treated like breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Everywhere you looked, fairies were stretching, preening, and shamelessly touching themselves. Little cocks stood stiff and twitching. Slits glistened with eager dew. They giggled and moaned openly, swapping quick kisses and gropes while shouting crude encouragement to one another.
“Get those flowers warmed up, girls! I’m dropping at least twenty today!” “Save some stamina, you greedy slut — we’ve got all day!”
The older fairies moved with practiced swagger, already leaking and ready. The teens darted about in excited swarms, eyes wide and bodies trembling with anticipation. In just a few minutes the entire glade would dissolve into a writhing, moaning, cum-soaked cloud of spunk and tiny bodies.
Because for the fairies of the Costella tribe, breeding wasn’t an event. It was their favorite hobby. And they were about to get very, very busy.
