Love Potion

"You need to ask before you drink random potions," Naomi admonished as she cast a reversal spell over her familiar. She could cast a potion reversal in her sleep now. "For all you know, I could be making a poison."
Emeril shrugged, "You hardly ever make dangerous brews; you wouldn't leave those just lying around." He watched the artificial color drain from his skin with mild interest. His most recent potion theft had turned him cobalt blue.
"For this precise reason. You're blue today, you're dead tomorrow! Not every unlabeled bottle is for drinking, Emeril. At this point, I could leave rat poison out and you would eat it."
"Hey now, I know better than that. Rat poison is green and powdery, and it tastes bitter, hardly easy to mistake for food." His words did little to lessen her concern. The witch stared hard at her familiar, hoping he'd understand that he should not know what rat poison tasted like. Emeril was blissfully unaware.
The fae hopped off of her table once his skin had returned to its usual autumnal gold, long crimson hair falling back around his shoulders as the magic faded. "Besides, I'm testing your potions for you. Isn't that what you summoned me to do? I'm tougher than you are, human. Imagine if you drank this, you might be green."
Naomi lifted her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose and sighed as she said, "Look, just ask me next time you find something laying around that you want to taste. I don't want to come home to a blue fae in my kitchen again."
"Yeah sure, I'll ask you if I find something while you're here." Emeril was already distracted by his next bought of mischief, not even looking over his shoulder as he spoke. He was like a cat, wandering around her house and knocking over things-- or drinking them-- just to see what would happen.
"I'm going to banish you if you start digging under the cushions for crumbs again," she warned him with a stern glare. He looked up from the couch with faux innocence.
"I'm just cleaning up. I thought you wanted me to tidy," his devilish grin told her he was doing anything but.
"I mean it. I'll send you right back to the astral plane." Her empty threats were falling on deaf pointed ears. She rolled her eyes and busied herself with preparing dinner.
Naomi had entered into her pact with Emeril two years ago, and the fae had been nothing but trouble since. He was helpful enough, a good test subject for her spells and potions when she needed it, but he loved to stick his nose just about everywhere it wasn't supposed to be.
She ought to teach him a lesson, show Emeril exactly where this bad behavior could land him if he wasn't careful. Naomi thought carefully over her stew as it simmered on the stove. Emeril seemed to take her contemplative silence as actual anger, and he'd snuck upstairs to hide from her potential wrath. She let him hide while she schemed.
Naomi's trap was easy to set. She made a batch of fragrant and enticing potions the next day. Emeril was hanging over her shoulder for longer than necessary, peering at the bright pink liquid swirling in her cauldron.
"What are you making?" He leaned on her counter, far too close to the hot cauldron for comfort.
"It's an anti-fae potion," she said, deadpan. Her answer didn't dissuade the nosy fae. He reached down to dip his finger in and Naomi smacked him away with her spatula. "No samples. This is for a customer, not for you. I don't want you contaminating anything."
Emeril retreated, but eyed the pot while she added the ingredients and brought it to its final rosy hue after a long two hours over the fire. When she was done, she bottled thirteen potions. Twelve were sealed and packed into a crate to be brought to the "customer" that afternoon. It didn't take long for Emeril to grow bored of the packing process. He left the kitchen and gave her plenty of time alone to add the final ingredient to the thirteenth bottle.
Funny thing about health potions, they could be mixed with a bit of lotus blossom and saffron to create a love potion. As far as love potions went, the effects were pretty weak. She wasn't trying to actually make Emeril fall in love. She just wanted to teach him to stop drinking from random bottles. At most, he would become deeply infatuated for a few hours with the first person he laid eyes upon, following their every direction. Naomi was nearly giddy at the idea of him actually listening to her for once.
She left the potion on the counter while she readied her cart.
"I have to go deliver this batch. Don't destroy the house while I'm gone," Naomi said as she loaded the crate and took up the handles on the front.
"Yessir," Emeril replied. He was back in the house and had shut the door before she even had time to roll her eyes. She knew exactly where he was going.
Naomi was only gone for an hour. Despite the late-season chill in the air, she walked happily down the snowy path into town to make a surprise delivery to the doctor there. She insisted she didn't need payment, and that the effects of her potion were enough of a reward. The doctor was confused but happy to accept her gift. She practically skipped through the woods on her way back to her house.
"I'm back, Emeril! You better not have gotten into any trouble," she called from the front door.
There was a noise from upstairs but no response otherwise. Was he already feeling the effects of the potion? Naomi left her coat at the door and walked up the short staircase to the second floor, where her bedroom was.
The sight that greeted her was... unexpected, to say the least.
Emeril was on her bed, face pressed to her pillow as he took deep breaths. He raised his head when she came up the stairs. His face was flushed deep orange, from his nose to the tips of his ears. His mouth hung open. He panted like he had just run ten miles.
"Naomi..." His eyes focused on her and he began to crawl across the mattress. "Naomi, you're home!"
"Em? Are you feeling alright?" Naomi knelt to meet him, only to be overtaken by the fae. He pulled her into a tight embrace, arms winding around her back as he buried his face in her shoulder.
"I am so glad you're home," he said. "I missed you so much while you were gone. Did you miss me?"
"You missed me? I was only gone for an hour," she chuckled. His silly behavior didn't assuage her worries, not when she could feel the warmth emanating from his body. Fae ran hotter than humans normally, but Emeril was burning hot. She tried to pull away to take a better look at him. Emeril was usually so magically put-together. It was odd to see him like this, hair mussed and clothes askew like he didn't care.
"Did something happen while I was gone?"
"Mmmm.... No..." He made his dishonesty far too obvious.
"You drank that potion I left on the counter didn't you?"
"Mmm... yes. I did," Emeril admitted.
"And what did I tell you yesterday?" Naomi fixed him with a stern look that didn't cow him at all. "What did I say about this exact scenario?"
"That you would banish me if I tore up the couch." Now he was just being an ass. Naomi put her hand under his chin. He looked up into her eyes instantly, his golden eyes burning with something a little stronger than puppy love. "I didn't tear up the couch."
"I know you didn't- nevermind. No. I told you not to drink potions if you don't know what they are. And you immediately drank the first one you saw. Honestly, Emeril, you're hopeless." She started firm but her words melted as the fae leaned into her hand.
Naomi squeaked as she suddenly found herself supporting an armful of gooey fae man. He rubbed his cheek against her chest like a cat, almost purring.
"Come on. I can do a reversal downstairs," Naomi tried to convince him to leave her arms.
"Why reverse it? I don't mind all that much..." Emeril's face got dangerously close to nuzzling between her breasts. Her breath hitched as his nose brushed the neckline of her shirt.
"Because you're not in your right mind. Now get downstairs!" Naomi just wanted to be firm with him, but her tone seemed to startle him back. He looked up with wide eyes, like a kicked dog. Then he wordlessly obeyed. He crawled off the bed and descended the staircase to their living room. She followed after him, worried she might have scared him.
Naomi prepared to cast a potion reversal for the second time in as many days while Emeril lounged on the couch. He stared at her with obvious longing, hand trailing off the couch to reach for her while she moved around the living room.
"Are you sure you want to undo the effects of the potion?" She raised her gaze to meet him as he said his most coherent words in the last hour.
"I- yes. It wasn't right for me to dose you with a love potion. You will feel better once your head is clear. Now sit up," she ordered. Like before, he obeyed. He wasn't looking much better. He had unbuttoned his shirt at some point and now she could see his chest was the same burnished orange as his flushed face. Naomi pointedly looked away.
"A love potion? Is that what that was supposed to be?" Emeril tilted his head, grinning.
Naomi hesitated. "Yes?"
"I don't think it was just love in that potion."
The fae man sprawled back out against the back of the couch, letting his legs fall open. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since I drank it, Mimi." The nickname made her falter. She stared at the growing bulge in his loose-fit trousers.
"All the more reason to... To reverse it," she shook her head and closed her eyes.
She began to cast the reversal, holding a paper pouch of peppermint and lavender in her hands. The magic began to eat away at the paper, then the herbs. Then, a hand on hers stopped her casting.
"Naomi."
Naomi opened her eyes to see Emeril inches from her. She swallowed around the knot in her throat looking at his disheveled appearance.
"I think you should take advantage of this situation, Naomi. I could do anything you want, you know."
Anything?
"Anything," he answered, as if he could read her mind. Maybe he could. Maybe that's why Emeril was so insistent, because he could see the dirty thoughts that had run through her mind so many times since she got home.
"Emeril, I-" Her protest failed before it could leave her lips. She considered it, staring into his eyes. Finally a chance to make her familiar obey her. She couldn't pass that up, could she?
No.
"On your knees." The order felt so natural on Naomi's tongue.
"Yes, ma'am," he said reverently. Emeril fell to his knees in front of her, hands dropping into his lap.
Naomi untied the laces of her shirt and let the fabric fall from her shoulders. It fell to the floor unceremoniously, leaving her breasts bare in the lantern light. Emeril looked up at her like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"You can take off my skirt," she said as she turned and presented the bow that held her last piece of clothing.
"I can." Emeril sounded almost in awe of this as he reached up and untied the ribbon. The layers of wrapped fabric loosened until they could fall from her hips. Only when she stood fully naked before him did she feel self-conscious. Did he even find her attractive? It wasn't right to make him do this, not if he didn't want it.
Emeril quickly put her fears to rest with a needy, hungry whine. He pressed his face to her thigh and panted dangerously close to her unshaved pussy. She could feel his breath tickling the black thatch of curls.
"Oh fair Lady Witch, permit me to taste you," his voice was soft and high. "Tell me to please you. Make me work for you."
She wanted to say yes and let him bury himself in the slick growing between her legs. She felt her pussy throb with lust, wanton need for Emeril to put his tongue to use. She held herself back and gave him another order instead.
"No. Undress yourself first. I'll not be the only one bare here."
Emeril shed himself of his tunic in seconds, leaving his pants on top of growing pile of their clothes soon after. He had been naked around her before; he had even shown up on her summoning circle naked. "Fae don't care much for clothes," he had once told her, and this proved true when she found him lounging naked on her couch multiple times. But something about seeing him now-- the lithe lines of his ocher body taut with lust, his hard length jutting from between his muscled legs-- she felt hungry. He flicked his hair over his shoulder and looked up at Naomi through soft lashes.
She wondered if it was possible for the potion to affect her too.
"You want to please me?" Emeril wriggled forward on his knees, nodding eagerly. Naomi led him back to the couch, where she sat down and spread her legs like he once had. His eyes focused on the pink folds hidden beneath her hair.
"Get to it," she told him.
"Yes, madame."
Emeril spread her fuzzy lips with two fingers, giving his tongue easy access to her most sensitive parts. Nothing could prepare Naomi for his intensity. His first taste sent him into a fervor, licking over her entrance until she was shivering and reached to grab his head. His tongue dipped down into her hole, then came up to wrap around the small nub of her clit. He took it between his lips so gently. Naomi's hips rose to rut against his face when he began to suck.
"A-aha, Emeril," she gasped. Her head fell back against the cushion as she pushed up into his hungry mouth. Naomi threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled him tight to her sex. He moaned in response, ragged and needy. His tongue danced between her clit and her hole, teasing her in the most delicious ways that set her body aflame.
He paused only to take her thighs up in either arm, pressing them to the sides of his face while he buried himself in Naomi's pussy. The witch was at the mercy of her familiar, now. She let him suck and lick, tasting her in ways few had done before him. He was so attentive. When her cries grew louder, he redoubled his efforts, sucking her clit like it was his sole purpose in life.
Her thighs tensed around the fae's head. She loathed the idea of this pleasure ending, but there was no stopping her as she hurtled toward the edge of bliss. Her body tightened like a rope, twisting and twisting until the tension snapped.
Naomi's orgasm was a flood of relief. She groaned and clung to Emeril, keeping him locked between her legs while she rode through the pulsating pleasure. Her familiar didn't fight against her grip. For several long moments he kept tonguing her sensitive pussy, her clit throbbing in response.
She relaxed back onto the couch, legs still thrown over Emeril's shoulders. Her chest heaved, gleaming with sweat that dripped down her breasts. She looked down at the man between her legs.
Emeril was as much a mess as her. His lips were sticky with her slick, and he kept licking at them like he couldn't get enough of the taste. He didn't move his head from her thigh for a long moment. If there was an afterlife, Emeril had found it between her legs.
"Naomi," he rasped, "please."
"You got what you wanted," she panted back. She dragged herself up, forcing him to pull away. "You wanted to taste me and you did."
"I'm-- nngh, I'm so hard, Naomi. Please." He looked up at her with longing. She could see his cock hadn't flagged at all.
She reached down and cupped his cheek. He rose on his knees to meet her touch. She guided him up to her gently, letting him climb onto her thighs so he sat with his cock between their bellies.
"Do you think you've been good for me?" Naomi didn't look into his eyes as she took hold of his cock.
"I- I don't know. Please, Naomi, please," Emeril whined. He stiffened when she wrapped her fingers around his length, but didn't move otherwise. He looked so needy in her lap like this. She could see the tightness in his hips, where he wanted to push into her grasp. He was being too good for that, though.
"Do you think you can show me how a good familiar fills his witch?" Her question seemed to torment him. He clenched his eyes shut. His shaft twitched in her hand and a dribble of translucent pre-cum fell down over her knuckles.
"I won't last long," he told her honestly.
"You don't need to. Just be a good boy and give yourself over to me," she assured him. Her familiar melted into her touch.
It took several moments to get into position, Naomi laying on her side across the couch while Emeril lined up with her wet, sensitive cunt. He slid inside so easily, like his cock was made to be in her. Like he was made to be hers.
True to his word, he didn't last long. Emeril spilled inside her after only a few thrusts, crying out and clutching at her raised leg as he buried himself in to the root. He collapsed against her moments later, shuddering with the aftershocks of his own well-earned orgasm.
"What did you put in that potion, Mimi?" Emeril laughed softly against her knee.
"It was just a love potion. I thought you would just be infatuated for a few hours. I never expected..." Neither of them had expected this outcome. "A bit of saffron and lotus blossom. I didn't think you would react so strongly to them."
"A love potion only strengthens existing emotions. You should know this," he said.
Naomi froze. "I didn't realize you-- wait why didn't you say anything?"
"I think it was more fun to find out this way. I never expected you to take this route, but I can't argue with the effectiveness." She swatted his shoulder.
"You're the one who drank it in the first place. Have you learned your lesson about downing mystery potions?" Naomi had a feeling she knew the answer.
"Quite the opposite. You should start leaving love potions around more often."