Lil and Pyushun: Part 2 (Patreon)

I rush to the door and scan the open space between the house and the tree line.  Nothing.  No shadowy figure, not rustle, no receding footfalls, nothing.  I look back to the twin blossoms and shake my head.

“How?”

Slowly I approach the desk and stare.  How was this happening?  Where were they coming from?

I sit down, the chair creaking beneath me as my weight settles.  The pole I keep gripped in my right hand just in case that there was some flower smuggling crazy out there but my entire attention is transfixed on the pretty pink blossoms.

I am still pondering the situation…when a tiny man, no more than five inches tall, hops up onto my desk with a plum blossom held in both of his arms like a big punch bowl.

Blink.  Blink.  Blink.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?”  I cry and instinctively kick away in fright.  The sudden shift is too much for the old wood chair.  There is a loud crack as both rear legs snap at once sending me sprawling to the floor.  “OOFF!”  The air is pushed from my lungs as I land flat on my back, the top of the chair jarring into my middle vertebrae.  “Gaaah!”  I roll to the side holding my aching back.

I look up to see the miniature man standing at the edge of the desk looking down at me with an expression of surprise and concern.

“AHHH!”  Scrambling to my feet I take another step back and swing stick above my head to have it ready to squash the weird thing if I needed to.  Paaaang!  The post rings off the metal shade that housed the lightbulb suspended in the middle of the room.

The light sways wildly and the tiny man cocks his head quizzically.

“Wh-Wh-Whaaat the fuuuck?”  I bleat as my mind careens more than the swinging light above me.

Lil…ya done lost it.  You lost your damned marbles.  I don’t know if there was something in the water, if someone spiked my lunch with a delay release psychedelic back at school, or if I’d just finally gone off the deep end from isolation.  Whatever the reason I was in cuckoo land.  It was either that or there really was a five inch tall man standing on my desk.  Between the two possibilities I know which one I’d put my money on.

The man holds his hands out toward me, palms facing me, in a gesture of ‘be calm’.

“Calm down?  Calm down!?”  I exclaim.  “What the hell are you!?”

He looks to the rod in my hands and motions me to lower it.  He then spins around and hurries back to the trio of blossoms.  Picking one up in both hands he comes back to the edge of the desk and holds it out to me with a dashing smile.

I hadn’t a clue what to do with all this.  One thing was certain is that he was no threat to me.  Leaving aside the kind smile and the offer of flowers I had to outweigh him by a thousand to one.  If I wanted or needed to squash him I wouldn’t need a stick to do it.  Slowly I lower my weapon and lean it against the wall beside me.  Reaching up I steady to swinging light.  This was surreal enough without the lighting swinging all over the place.  I then stand a moment and catch my bearings.

His smile grows when he sees me settle.  Ever more eagerly he lifts the flower higher.

I push the broken chair to the side with my foot and take a wary step toward him.  After a moment’s hesitation I reach out and lift the bloom from his arms and feel his tiny hands brush between my fingers as I take it.  He swoons backward holding his heart and laughing, a sound akin to the call of a happy wren.  He spins on one foot then comes prancing back to the edge again.

“No need to chew the scenery, geez.”  I look at the delicate blossom and ponder it a moment then back to his smiling face.  I lower myself to one knee so that I could look at this miraculous curiosity face to face.

As I really focus on him I see…the prettiest man I had ever seen or would ever hope to see!  He…was…GORGEOUS!

His skin was a sensuous mahogany brown.  His long free flowing hair was onyx black but when he moved it glimmered with the iridescent sheen of a raven’s feather.  In his hair were woven beads of blue and green, the largest of which held his long locks in a ponytail that cascaded down the center of his back.  And his body! Ohhh damn!  Those male gymnasts at the Olympics had nothing on him!  Slender but not skinny with lean deliciously defined muscles and proportions the Ancient Greeks would have made into sculpture.  Wide shoulders tapered down into a narrow waist then thickened once more into two powerfully built legs.

He looked to be right around my age, early to mid twenties somewhere, and in the full prime of his manly vitality.  When he moved those incredible muscles would shift and flex in ways that would make anyone with an eye for such things mouth water.  I knew this because of the rather revealing outfit he was wearing.  Over his torso he wore a sort of billowy white vest that was mostly open down the front and below his pits to reveal the tops of his six pack abs, the cleavage of his well defined pecs, and all of his elegantly muscular arms and shoulders.  Cinched snugly around his lean waist was a red sash that accentuated his vaguely hourglass physique.  And covering his nethers were a pair of olive green shorts cut off halfway between hip and knee to give a peek at the thick muscles of his quads and a full view of powerful teardrop shaped calves.  His feet were bare, his toes the teeniest things I’d ever seen.  As I scan back up his body I cannot help but notice the impressive bulge at the crotch of those green shorts.  Little man was packing some serious pipe!  DAMN!

His incredible body was only second to his achingly beautiful facial features.  His eyes were huge by human standards with no whites to be seen.  Instead his gleaming peepers were a pure walnut brown with oval shaped pupils in the center.  The shape of his jaw and chin and cheekbones were somehow both masculine and feminine in a way I couldn’t even grasp.  The BEST possible way.  Strong yet soft, smoothly curved yet defined, the shape of his face defied description.  His nose was slender and delicate, his lips full and luscious with the most wonderful shape.  His brows were long and dark and thick, like those of the actress Brooke Shields.  Behind his long bangs his tapered ears narrowed to points like some elf out of a Tolkien novel.  Had this creature been of my world I had no doubt that this was a face that would be gracing magazine covers.

Combine that body with that face and you had yourself a full blown stud, but it didn’t end there!  He moved with the physical grace of Micheal Jackson, the swagger of Prince, and the smooth suave of Billy Dee Williams.  There was this confidence about him that shone through.  That oh so rare IT factor that every woman could spot with just a glance.  I couldn’t know for sure but I would have bet my year extension that this little cutie was a player.

Though my mind is still grasping for rational explanations my too long fasting pussy doesn’t know any better and begins to glow with moist interest.  A hot flush rushes up my body.  My nipples stiffen and my cheeks warm.  Easy Lil, easy!

Beyond his pantie dropping hotness what strikes me most was just how…normal he looked.  Except for his tapered ears, unique eyes, and of course his diminutive size he could have been human.  I didn’t know what he was but I would have figured a creature like this would have had wings or antennae or…something weird.  Instead he was simply a drop dead gorgeous guy under six inches tall.

As I look at him he is looking right back at me.  Not just looking at me…but checking me out!  His big sparkling eyes pan across my face with a transparent amorous interest I hadn’t seen since I left the States.  Those cheeky peepers of his don’t stop there though.  Continuing down he gives my whole curvaceous body a unhurried perusal, paying special lingering attention to the little space open at the top of my shirt.

“Hey!”  I laugh and cover my chest.  “You are a brash one, aren’t you?”

He grins and covers his face in false embarrassment then gives me a saucy waggle of his brows to let me know he liked what he saw.

I continue to laugh.  I couldn’t help it.  The cheek of this pipsqueak!

He suddenly stands straight, chin held high, and slaps his chest.  He lets out a sort of peeping chirp that I think were supposed to be words.

“Huh?”

He leaps and comes down in a double stamp and does it again with greater bravado.  This time I can make out that it was supposed to be two syllables, but they’d been spoken with such speed I couldn’t make them out.

“Sloooower.”  I exagerate the word to try to get across my meaning.

He nods.  Again he goes through the dramatic motion.  “Pyu.  Shun.”  He slaps his chest.  “Pyu.  Shun.”  He slaps it twice.  “Pyushun.”

“Pyushun?”

“Pyushun!”  He smiles and raises his arms in celebration.  He certainly was an expressive little fella.  He then points at me.

I pat my chest.  “Lil.”

“Lil!”

“Yes.  That’s right.  Lil.”

"Lil."

“Pyushun?  That’s not a Japanese name.”  I lean closer.  “But you’re not Japanese, are you?”  Obviously he wasn’t human yet still I might have expected him to have a local look about him.  He did not.  In fact he didn’t really have any dominant racial features that I recognized.  By human standards he was a blend of this and a blend of that, just like me.  “What ARE you?  Some kind of…imp or fairy or something?  I’ve seen some of the local legends at the museum and I didn’t see anything like you down there.”

He laughs, quite clearly not understanding what I was saying, and points down to the pink plum blossom in my hand.  I lift it so that it hovers between us.  He points at it and points at me.

“For me?”  I say.  “Well…thank you.”  Not sure what else to do with it I hold it to my chest in a gesture of acceptance.

This makes him very happy.  I confess I was pretty pleased myself.  The hottest guy I’d ever met just gave me a flower.  And by the way he was acting the gesture meant exactly what I think it meant.  He was interested in me!  God damn.  If I thought I was intimidating due to my size to the local men I was Godzilla for Pyushun.  The dude had set of brass balls on him, I had to give him that.

He points at me with one hand, himself with the other, then brings the two fingers together.  Finger beside finger he then points out the door.

“You want me to…come with you?”

“Lil.”  He peeps.  “Pyushun.”  He then brings one hand to his waist and the other up to shoulder height and he begins to dance, slowly and romantically.

“You’re kidding?  You’re asking me out, aren’t you?”  I shake my head in disbelief.

When he sees me shake my head his face falls and his shoulders sag with disappointment.

“No!”  I blurt.  “I wasn’t saying no.  I was…um…what the hell is happening?”  I bring my hands to my head.  “This can’t be happening.”

Undeterred Pyushun gets down on both knees into a prayer like posture, begging me to accept his invitation.

What was I to do!?  I was still reeling from his very existence and here he was asking me on a date.  “Pyushun…I…you’re…”  I sigh.  “I don’t even know what you are!”

He hops to his feet again.  With the pride of a matador he stands smooths his long hair.  With a funny little head bobble he asks again.  “Pyushun.  Lil.”  He brings his fingers together then clasps his hands, fingers interlocking, then waggles his eyebrows again suggestively.

“Woah there little tiger.”  I chuckle.  “I haven’t even said yes yet.  This is crazy!”  I kneel down with my other leg and sit back.  Pointing up at him I say.  “I know that head wobble you used.  That’s Bill Cosby.”  I glance behind me at the old black and white rabbit-eared television at the far end of the room.  “You’ve been watching television.”  I look back at him.  “This isn’t your first time in here, is it?”

When he sees me look at the TV he claps his hands then brings him out in front of him to pantomime clicking away on a typewriter.  My brow furrows in confusion until he begins to peeping the theme to Murder She Wrote.

“You have!”  I point at him.  He holds his hands up in a ‘you got me’ pose.  From ten until eleven each night the local television station aired American programming.  It was a mish-mash of shows with lots of repeats but when reception and electricity allowed for it I never missed a show.  The Cosby Show and Murder She Wrote were among those that they aired.  “You little peeper.  You’ve been in here.  Watching me.”

He seems to get my meaning.  He steps back and makes the motion of undressing, then hops quickly to another spot where he covers his eyes and sneaks away.

“Uh huh.”  I cross my arms.  “You never once looked?”

He creeps around in a circle and covers his eyes again…then takes a super fast peek through his fingers.  He swoons back and fans himself.

“I oughta be mad. I oughta smash you!”  I was acting angry, but in truth I was more flattered than anything.  “You little…peeper!”

“Peep!”  He shouts then laughs a hearty laugh, hands on this hips.  Once more he does the pointing.  Once more he bring his fingers together.  “Pyushun.  Lil.”  He then points to the door.

I look at him, flabbergasted, then throw my arms up.  “This has got to be a dream.  But you know what?  What the heck!”  I look around my quiet, lonely house.  “It’s not like I’ve got anything else going on.”  I rise to my feet and give my miniature admirer a curtsie then nod my head yes.  “You got yourself a date Pyushun.”

He claps his hands and leaps into the air twice his own height, doing a few twirls along the way.  When he lands his long pony tail wraps around his lithe body and he has the biggest, brightest, SEXIEST smile on his handsome face.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”  I hold up a finger.  “I am sweaty and frazzled.  Let a lady get ready first.”  I go through the motions of getting dressed and done up.  He seems to understand as he shoots me a double thumbs up.  “And NO peeking!”  I do the ‘peek’ motion that he had then jab a stern finger his way.  “Stay!”

He grins a too innocent grin and crosses his heart.

“You better!”  He nods.  “Alright then.  I’ll just be a minute.”

I turn and make for the bedroom/tatami room to freshen up and get into something nice.  The whole time I am muttering to myself.  “This isn’t happening.  This can’t be happening.  You lost your damn mind Lil.”  But the words do nothing to slow down my actions.

Part 3