John scooped Nightingale up like a princess. It was an act as natural as it was for a salmon to swim upstream. Immediately the vulnerable look was replaced with a reassured smile. He threw her onto one of the couches. The many pillows feathered the impact. John climbed over the backrest, after her. The soft fabric of the cushion gave under his feet. The leather of the couch creaked.


    Although it did not quite fit with the general aesthetic, John could not, in good conscience, have any absorbent furniture wherever he was likely to linger.


    Lavender filled his nostrils, an intense fragrance rising from the goddess and mixing with the greenery he had planted around the room. Before he laid down next to her, John extended the couch to serve as a bed. The place, he realized, was a cosy mix between a themed bar and home.


    After the mechanisms had snapped into place, the Gamer slowly descended on Nightingale. With deliberate slowness, he brushed some of her silky mane behind her ear. The strands were smooth, despite their natural wildness. Adaptations of harpies must have gone quite far – or perhaps it was just another manifestation of the Abyss and its magic.


    John was enticed by the shape of her ear for a little bit. There was nothing unusual about it. It was simple, a round top swinging down to a cute little earlobe. All that made it interesting was who it was attached to. That was enough to make it very interesting. He trailed the rim of it with his thumb, before locking eyes with her again.


    The lavender depths of the goddess’ irises were more divine than her nature was. Like amethysts, they sparkled in the dim light of the room. Inquisitively, she stared, awaiting his next move.


    He was sorely tempted to lean in further and claim those lips. With the self-control of a wise man who was surrounded by some of the most beautiful women on the planet at all times, he averted his gaze and got comfortable next to her. This was not the environment to have their first kiss.


    Nightingale cuddled up to him. Her head laid on his shoulder, and found a natural depression to rest in. “Is this what you want?” John asked quietly, an arm around her. “Just me next to you?”


    “It soothes me,” Nightingale whispered back. “I didn’t get this attached to a man before.” Clothes and fabric whispered when she rolled onto her side. She looked up at him with deep purple eyes. A wing covered his chest, like a cool blanket, welcome on this summer evening. “Perhaps you are that unique of an individual,” she purred. “Perhaps I’m just exceedingly thankful for what you did.” Her left thigh, in all of its delicious pale length, moved on top of him. “Perhaps I just remember what we did before.”


    “You’re playing with very dangerous things,” he warned her.


    Stretching up to his ear, her quiet, elegant voice put two little words in his ear. “I know.” An audible clack of her teeth accentuated the sentence, and she began to make her way down his body.


    Before she even made it past his collarbone, he held her in place. “Is this really what you want?” he asked her, staring deep into her eyes. “You owe me nothing. I’m here because I want to be. I’m your suitor. Don’t repay me in ways you would feel are too fast.”


    “I decided what you deserve...” Nightingale responded with a little smile. He let her go and she crawled further backwards, until her head was right above his groin. As she bowed down, her leotard dissipated into drifting shadows. Her heart-shaped ass was raised high, giving the tent in John’s pants every reason to grow even more prominent. “...and what I desire.”


    The harpy audibly swallowed, before catching his zipper between her teeth. With talent and care, she slowly pulled it down. Seconds later, her dextrous tongue undid the button at the top. She brought one of her legs forwards and pulled at his pants until they were out of the way. Fully enjoying the show, John let her do all of this without any meddling.


    Nightingale impatiently licked the outside of his smooth underpants. Further and further, her tongue elongated, while she stretched towards the waistband. Once there, she pulled her tongue back in and, with another bite, pulled at the last obstacle. Taut by the erection underneath, it was much easier to remove. Thick drops of her throat’s sexual secretions soaked into the cloth. They were nearly immediately removed by the enchantments.


    Firmly, she peeled back the final obstacle. An excited breath escaped the harpy when his cock was revealed. Once her teeth released the waistband, John pressed the button to move his legwear into his inventory.


    John’s eyes traced up a little. ‘My mark would fit really nicely there.’ Between the outwards swing of the sickles was room for the deep blue emblem Lover’s Will placed on his partners. It even had the right colour. Some things were just meant to be. Looking up further, he caught Nightingale gulping again. The harpy had either given up or was utterly failing at calming down. Her eyes were fixed on his cock. “On the floor.”


    The sudden order made Nightingale cross gazes with him. Hard and demanding, he stared back, causing her to cast her eyes down submissively. There definitely was some tendency there, just not as intense as it was for many in his harem. When she opened her mouth to answer, the natural lube ran down her chin. To hide the lewd display, Nightingale moved one of her wings in front.


    Pushing it back aside, John stared at her. “On the floor, my lusty songbird,” he ordered her, this time with a reward imbued in his voice. Rather than drool further over the couch, she just nodded. Once on the ground, the harpy let out a sharp moan. To reward her obedience even further, John positioned himself in front of her. “Satisfy me.”


    Nightingale opened her mouth and continued right where they had left off. The constant stream of rewarding pleasure from her service mixed with the natural stimulation of her mouth-pussy. Screams reverberated around his cock, while John got comfortable. He pulled several of the cushions into position to really support his back.


    Usually, he was one more for an active approach, but he was slowly working out that Nightingale was notably more of a submissive than she was a masochist. In effect that meant that she got most of her psychological gratification out of being of service, rather than being of use. It was the difference between a servant and a cocksleeve.


    Since the only thing John loved more than pleasuring himself was pleasuring his loves, he just laid back and watched. Granted, there was barely any sacrifice of his enjoyment involved, considering Nightingale so fervently paid attention to what satisfied him. Partly because of his command. Resolving he wanted the situation to escalate a bit, he updated his demand, “Use my cock like you would your favourite dildo.”


    Nightingale made big eyes up at him for a moment. They both knew her favourite had been the one mimicking the very same dick currently balls deep inside her. Applying the habits should therefore not have been particularly difficult. A tiny nod.


    From one moment to the next, Nightingale changed gears entirely, from worshipping what belonged to her suitor to using it to stuff her throat. The long, deliberate strokes of lips and tongue turned into a desperate up and down. There was barely any rhythm to it at all, Nightingale just used his rigid member to scratch itches deep inside of her.


    The excitement turned her servile kneeling into a forward leaning squat. Her wings were holding onto his legs as best she could, while her head aggressively bounced in his lap. She did not bother to try and contain the mess her drool made, dripping continuously onto his balls and the floor. The intensity of each bob created lewd squelching sounds.


    John was clawing at one of the cushions, overwhelmed by the pace of her self-indulgent deepthroating. Taxed breathing brushed over his glistening shaft, while Nightingale took a short break to get fresh air into her lungs. Right after that, she resumed fucking her face with his cock. Wildly, she shook her face while all of him was sheathed inside of her, trying to stimulate every nook and cranny of her tight folds with his erection.


    She came. Again and again, she came. The heat of a genuine cock and the Perks the Gamer had must have made this quite a lot more intense than the regular dildo sucking. Still, she continued, hungry for more and more.


    Suddenly, she stopped. The threshold of what her body could sustain in terms of simultaneous pleasure had been reached. Close to a second release, John let his instincts take over. His hands clawed into her hair and manhandled her to continue her blowjob. Muffled, ecstatic screams accompanied his use of her throat to get the rest of the way.


    Pressing her against his groin, John unloaded inside her gripping throat. Halfway through his orgasm, he let go of her, slouched back and just rode out what he felt. Through fluttering eyelids, he followed Nightingale sliding up until only the head remained inside her mouth. She gyrated softly, coaxing every last drop out of him.


    When there was nothing left to get, they finally separated. Proudly, the harpy presented the white that filled her purple mouth. Remaining still, she did not swallow. Just to test her, he waited for a little while, before saying, “Alright, go ahead.”


    Nightingale gleefully tilted her head back and audibly gulped. All of it was down immediately and she opened her lips, drawing thin strands of her sticky drool, to present that fact. “How about...” even now, she needed to clear her throat, “...we test that jacuzzi?”


    “Fantastic idea,” John agreed.