Just let me softly take hold of the back of your head, a feather-light touch you barely even feel, you're so close to being under my spell already, and pull you deeper in, as my lips kiss you, first on the cheek, nice and chaste, and then moving inward slowly, each kiss sending pleasant flutters through you, until after what feels like an eternity I relent and let your lips taste mine. The feeling blossoms in your mind, the sensation of that faint peck seeming to echo within the walls of your mind until it's achingly intense and all you can do is lean into the kiss, desperate for more. With the first brush of my lips against yours, you wonder how you ever lived without that taste, the taste of midsummer nights and warm breeze that wraps around you like a blanket and flowers in full bloom, and you know that, now you have truly drunk deep of it, you would waste away from thirst if you had to go even a day without it.

How lucky, then, that I show no signs of letting up, my lips parting slightly so that you may taste me more fully, as I moan your name into the kiss and the world around you seems to at once fade and sharpen; colors brightening, richer than you could ever imagine, but boundaries fading, until you can no longer tell where you end and I begin, or where the fields you know end and faerie begins. Slowly even the memory of boundaries fades from your mind, forced out by the overpowering sound of me breathing your name while my tongue dances with yours, and suddenly all you have ever known is faerie, and the embrace of the Leannán Sídhe. I would say "welcome to fairyland", but really you've been here your whole life, haven't you?