Battle of the fairies

Spring Fairy kicks in the door with hips swaying and a grin that says trouble’s coming, nipples already tight under that skimpy petal top. Winter Fairy shows up wrapped in frost lace and little else, her pale tits thrust forward, cold nubs begging to be pinched. They circle. Then they grab. Hands squeeze asses, fingers slip under fabric, and in seconds the clothes hit the floor. Spring’s thighs are slick and open; Winter spreads her and drives two frosty fingers straight into that warm cunt. Spring yelps, then laughs, shoving three of her own into Winter’s icy slit and pumping hard. Tongues chase each other, spit mixing. They tumble onto the moss—nipples rubbing, clits grinding, juices running down pale and pink thighs. Moans turn to giggles, giggles into sharp gasps as they fuck each other right there like they’ve got something to prove. Nobody dies. The world doesn’t end. Two horny fairies just needed to rub one out and get over it.