Monsterboy Quest Ch. 05

She heard movement from the nest, but it was just the sweep of the boy's wing. The light grew dim. So there was some magic, here, in this little lair of his. The crystals above her sparkled like stars, but Levinja could not sleep. Her ears were active, waiting for the first signs of deep breathing from the boy. Gods, but she had made herself frustrated!

And worse than that, it was cold, even with her bedroll wrapped around her. She had caught a chill, perhaps. She began to shiver. She steeled herself to reach out of her little cocoon for one of the rugs that covered the floor beside her, and she pulled that around herself, too.

But to no avail. Ah, but even with the rug beneath her the floor of the cave was viciously cold and she imagined it was sucking the heat out of her entire body.

She realised then that the boy had fallen asleep. Feura, deep and snug in his nest. His breathing was low and deep. But the cold had eked the passion from her blood as well as the heat.

Levinja tossed and turned. No, no this would not do at all. She squirmed herself in her cocoon across the floor. Maybe it was warmer closer to Feura and his nest.

It was a little warmer, but not as much as Levinja had hoped. She lay there, listening to the boy's breathing, hearing also the gentle whisper of his feathers rubbing against each other. Her eyes, unable to close from her sleeplessness, were used to the dark now and she could see the shape of him above the nest, the glistening of his wings. No sign though, now, of those huge dark eyes which had been so glued to her earlier wanton display.

He did not despise her, then. He was just like any other young boy when confronted by a mature woman - intimidated. That was why he had been so sharp with her. Perhaps he was even a little afraid of her.

There was no sign in this place of a mate. Levinja wondered how such a beautiful creature could be lacking one. But then she thought of his arrogant pride. No doubt he did not think any of his admirers suitable for himself.

There was something to respect in that, though. Instead of merely using them like so many boys gifted by fortune with such beauty would, he preferred to remain alone.

Levinja shivered again. No, this was bad. Without a warmer place she could not sleep, and without sleep she would grow weaker than she felt. She knew people had died in similar situations when stuck in the mountains.

She peeled herself out of the cocoon. There was only one thing to do, but she would have to be quiet. She wormed her way out of the bedroll at last with some difficulty, having folded it so tightly about herself, but with a last kick of her feet she was free. The air in the cave, the bare stone on her bare feet, started her shivering again.

She could not dally. She found the nest, clambered over the side as slowly and quietly as she could. The blankets which covered it were warm to the touch - the heat of the boy's body had bled out this far. And the scent of his body! The entire nest was imbued with it. Even had the cave been pitch-black, Levinja would still have easily been able to find the boy and his nest.

She reached out. Ah, a pillow, and beside it the ticklish softness of feathers. She jerked her hand back as though she had been burned. The softness had startled her. But they were so wonderfully warm as well.

Her hand moved forward until her fingertips touched that soft wall again. Yes, very very warm. She let her fingers splay out and slip between the feathers, until they touched smooth skin. So this was the edge of one of his wings, then. Gently, she moved her fingers, no longer touching the skin, with the flesh growing narrower until only feathers, long and noble, remained.

His wings, like a bird's, were splayed out over his body. Levinja knew she would not be able to make do with merely squeezing herself between the boy's body and the pillows. Instead, she gingerly lifted the wing's veil of feathers with the back of a hand and slid under into the incredible cosy warmth underneath.

She knew she was taking a chance, but she had no choice. And the boy remained asleep, although he stirred a little as she positioned herself in the little nook of space between the boy's human torso and the edge of the nest. Her toes touched the smoothness of scales. His legs, then, ending in those birdlike talons. She let her toes slip up a little. Yes, the scales ended here and the soft, yielding flesh of a human began.

Levinja bit her lip. Stop it, you! With her shivering passing and her body quickly and hungrily drawing in the boy's body heat, her blood had relit its fire. The delightful smell of his body was also did not help the situation.

Levinja pulled her toes away and curled her knees up to her chest. Better not to touch the boy more than she had to. Otherwise, he might wake up and she would lose her wonderful little bed and have to return to that cold and lonely floor.

With his wing curled over her, Levinja felt safe. So this would be the lot of a human woman married to a harpy? She could easily learn to enjoy this sort of life. She wondered if humans and harpies often came together. It did not seem impossible. The lack of a harpy's arms and hands might make some situations more challenging, but in return you would be able to have those wings swept about you, enveloping you in a feathery hug only a harpy was capable of blessing you with.

Feura murmured and Levinja smiled in the dark. She closed her eyes and sleep fell upon her in a single sweep of its own dreamy wings.

-----

She awoke an unknown time later with the boy wrapped around her. His bare chest was pressed against her, with only the thin material of her tunic between them. Her arms had encircled his torso of their own accord while she had slept. Her palms were pressed against his back, where his feathers began, and were full of soft fluffiness. Ah, but underneath those longer feathers which he used for flight was a soft down, like any bird would have, and her hands were full of it. No wonder they were so warm!

Levinja, as calm as she could muster while her head was still thick with sleep, began to extricate herself. Regret touched her heart, though. The cold night had brought the two of them together, she with her arms around him, he with his wings swept around her, and as she drew her hands out her fingertips slipped down to the beginning of his smooth skin. Any lower and she would reach the first rise of those beautiful buttocks and then she would be lost.

She pulled her arms away at last and moved back. Feura shifted in his sleep and muttered. She felt his warm, fragrant breath near her face. She did not have far to move her head if she had wished to kiss those pouty lips of his. Levinja's heart lightened to imagine the boy's reaction!

But her amusement quickly sublimated into passion when the boy, with an annoyed mutter, wriggled back against her and his wing, with a shifting whisper, slipped around her tighter.

With her arms against her side she shifted her body, trying to find a comfortable position, but the boy's proximity made it impossible. She sighed and slipped her arms back around his sides, hugging him. She would be careful. He had not woken up with her earlier movement, and who knows how long the two of them had lain there, wrapped together like lovers? She would, with luck, be able to spend the rest of the chilly night so and when the boy woke up she could merely express as much surprise as he no doubt would at the situation.

She did not regret what the situation had forced and drew closer to his smooth warm body. His feathers tickled her nose and stifling a sneeze she against shifted her body, straightening it. In doing so, her tunic rode up and she suddenly felt against her thigh a hardness she knew all too well. She drew away, but the boy moved with her, pressing it against her. He murmured a pleased sound and with a birdlike chirp he swept his wings further around her back and drew her closer.

Levinja rolled her eyes. Gods, this was going to be agony. Tension in that most wanton of places had continued to grow and she felt hot and sticky there. Any more of this and she would drench her underwear. There was no way she could sleep under these conditions!

Still, lying there cradled in his wings was a novel and delightful situation. If only he would stop butting that gorgeous thing into her...

Her hand was already slipping down between them as she wrestled with whether or not what she was intending to do was a good idea. Levinja! Just a few short hours ago you were on the point of dying from exposure, and now all you can think about is this exquisite creature pressed against you? But another part of her, too, wanted to prove something to this arrogant little bird. And perhaps he deserved a reward for his kindness, even if it had been forced out of him.

Feura butted his erection against her once more and Levinja took it as consent. The poor boy couldn't be expected to sleep well under these circumstances either! Her fingers touched his hardness gingerly at first, pressing against it through the material of his loincloth. Ah, there was a warm wetness there! So he was already slick and eager. Levinja wondered what strange and erotic dreams were passing through that handsome head of his. Was she a part of them?

It didn't matter. She would be the one who would please him, regardless of the identity of his dream lover or lovers.

Her initial touch had elicited a soft, hissing intake of breath from Feura, but he remained asleep. Now Levinja placed her palm over the mound in his loincloth and gave it a gentle squeeze. A happy murmur came from the boy and Levinja's heart warmed. She stroked him through the material, following the unseen contours of his rigidity. Yes, he certainly was a well-endowed boy!

Levinja's free hand slipped down between her thighs and slipped under the waist of her underwear. She was already sopping there and her fingers slid through dewy pubic hair to find her button engorged. She bit her lip as liquid lightning sparked up her spine and a further gush of lewd juices coated her fingers. Sliding them into herself was like a knife through butter and she let her thumb rest on that stiff little promontory, pressing it as she fingered her sticky sex and squeezed her hand between her thighs.

Her rising pleasure made her bold and she slipped her hand up under the loincloth where it straight away encountered the hot, smooth length of his erection. She drew his foreskin back, feeling the wetness of the head, and began to stoke him with the rhythm she knew men liked. Too fast, too slow, or too erratic, stimulation by hand could be a frustrating experience for a male. But Feura's shifting of his wings, the pushing forward of his hips and his growing hardness told her he was enjoying her touch.

As she stroked him and pleasured herself, his face fell near hers, his chin resting on her shoulder. His cheek was against her ear, his hot breath, coming in short pants now, washing over her neck. She wanted more than anything to turn her head and bring her lips against his, to catch that sweet breath and taste it for herself, but she knew that would be a step too far and, like the sleeping princess in the fairytale, he would wake up.

No, she would bring him to completion with her hand and then she would finally get some sleep.

Levinja bit her lip. She was growing close to her climax and still the boy was rutting into her hand. What stamina he had! Some men would come off almost immediately after she touched them, bringing that strange mix of disappointment and delight that her touch had been so powerful. Her hand was slick with his juices and he gave no sign of slowing.

Levinja slipped her hand off his member and brought it up to her face. Ah! His scent was overpowering! She could not resist slipping her tongue from between her lips and giving her slick fingertips an exploratory lick.

Saltiness and a rich, lewd flavour overpowered her senses and sent a spark jetting down her spine to where the fingers of her other hand were still plunging deep into her sopping cleft. The fingers stained with Feura's excitement slid into her mouth again and Levinja's tongue slipped all over them, scouring them of every tiny patch of his flavour.

Feura, meanwhile, was squirming, and she saw his face in the half-light, grimacing.

Levinja tore her slippery fingers from her mouth and grabbed hold of the boy's hip. She slipped down under his coverlet of shifting feathers until her face was before that hot and hard part of him which she wanted more than anything. She fished him out and brought her lips hungrily against the impossibly smooth head of his rigidity. His excitement was drooling from him and Levinja's tongue, flicking with intoxicated delight, lapped every bit into her mouth. Feura above her groaned but Levinja did not slow down. No, if the boy woke, the boy woke. She would find some way to calm his anger, if indeed he was angry at her. But there was no way, now that she had got a taste of his masculine essence, that she would stop until he was spurting inside her mouth.

She slipped the tip of her tongue into the tiny swollen slit which was the source of the delicious fluid and burrowed it deep. Feura gave a little cry and her tongue was suddenly awash with a flood of salt. Some dripped out of her mouth and wet her chin, so she dove onto his sex, engulfing half of the substantial length in her mouth to make sure nothing more was lost.

Further gentle waves of fluid basted the inside of her mouth, but he wasn't coming yet. These were just the overflowings of a boy who had not ejaculated for a long time. The poor thing! No wonder he had been so angry. He was merely frustrated. Well, Levinja would see to it that he was fully satisfied. Herself, as well.

She bobbed her head rapidly, her copious greedy saliva creating a lubricant which let the boy slide in and out of her mouth as though he was rutting into her sex. Levinja breathed through her nose, keeping the seal around his shaft complete. She did not want that delicious organ coming free and wasting its no doubt generous load when he came at last. No, she would have every drop of him!

Levinja came first. The sensation of his hardness plunging in and out of her mouth with abandon, the boy's impassioned pants and moans, the constant overflow of his delicious seed drove her over the edge before she could stop herself. She gave a little cry, her fingers plunging deep inside her, the heel of her hand pressing desperately against the stiff promontory of her button. Her whole body shuddered and she felt a hot sticky blast of fluid across her palm. Oh god, there was so much of her coming out! Her scent flooded the air.

As she pressed her hand harder between her thighs and pursued every last shivering moment of pleasure, she maintained her attack on the boy, bobbing her head feverishly. As her climax faded into a gorgeous warmth which lay thick on her body like a blanket, Levinja extricated her sopping hand from between her legs and slid it around the boy's shaft. Slick with her juices, it became a surrogate for her own sex and the boy penetrated it with increasing abandon, his hips pumping.

Feura suddenly stiffened and Levinja felt his balls rise up against her wrist. His head throbbed against her tongue and without delay she closed her mouth over it, making a seal around the shaft so that nothing could escape her. And then with a cry Feura came, an incredible wave of boiling hot semen, salty and sticky beyond description. Levinja swallowed desperately, trying to clear the huge amount of fluid impregnating her mouth, but as her throat dealt with one wave, the next was already blasting over her tongue and filling her to overflowing. She swallowed again, but the next, even greater load made her choke and gasping she tore the boy spurting from her mouth. Thick ropes of strongly-scented fluid splattered across her lips and cheek and she closed her eyes just in time as more seed splashed across her face and up onto her forehead. Feura was moaning with his climax and Levinja, not wanting the boy to miss any iota of the pleasure he had helped her to attain, kept up her feverish stroking of his shaft.

But still he came. Her face was splattered, irreversibly stained by his pungent semen which dripped down her chin and onto her neck. Levinja licked at the streaks that were smeared over her lips and around her mouth, and she directed his last, less powerful spurts onto her widely splayed tongue.

She teased the tender spot underneath and then ran her tongue all over his slick and salty head, but like all males after they have come, Feura was now too sensitive and he pulled himself free from Levinja's licking tongue. With a happy, sleepy murmuring he fluffed his feathers and sought the other side of the nest, leaving Levinja gingerly touching the cooling stickiness coating her face. In the dark she imagined how she must look, her entire face glazed with his seed. Levinja knew well how much males enjoyed seeing a woman's face in such a state and she felt a little sting of disappointment that she was not able to titillate the boy with the sight.

She wiped her face with the top of her tunic. Oh gods, the whole of her stunk like him now! The smell would not let her get to sleep and she sensed a whispered pressure hinting between her legs. She had come, but desired still more.

But she had come enough, perhaps, to finally get some sleep. She nuzzled up against the pillow nearest her head and reached out to embrace it. Fuera was on the other side of the nest and she decided it was best to leave him there. It had been a miracle he hadn't woken up, and as a result she'd had the precious chance to enjoy him without any protest.

Gods, it had been a little like ravishment, hadn't it? But the boy's body had told her the truth. He had not fled from her mouth or hands and the copious amount of his seed and his adorable, sleepy cries proved he would not have resented what had happened had he woken up during it.

But Levinja lay there, a twinge between her thighs, wondering how it would have felt to have that large organ filling her womb with so much of his seed. And her mouth was still full of him, his smell steeping her sinuses, her mouth and tongue still thick with his flavour.

Somehow, though, sleep at last took her.

-------

Levinja woke to something pushing against her. For a few desperate moments she struggled to remember where she was. The whisper of feathers and the thick delicious scent of a warm male brought it all rushing back. Somehow she'd moved during the night and was now draped over the edge of the nest, clutching one of the long pillows which made it such a cosy little bed. Her face pushed forward again, pressing into the soft material. Oh, Feura was on top of her! His wings covered her from behind and he was pushing against her, the familiar hardness of his erection pressing against her buttocks.

Levinja's sex flooded. Gods, he'd woken up and now he was taking his revenge by ravishing her! But no... his whole body pressed against her with the next rut of his hips, his warm, firm chest flush against her back, and she smelled his sweet breath against her neck and cheek, coming in slow pants. The boy was still asleep! No doubt he was dreaming, but the stiff pressure of his rigidity showed the reality of the situation.

Levinja gripped the edge of the nest. Even asleep he was rough! He rubbed and pressed against her and sharp, tingling pleasure shot along her spine and spread through her chest. Levinja felt a drop of moisture on her shoulder - Feura was moaning, his saliva dripping onto her from those wide, sensuous lips of his.

Levinja's face was pushed again and again into the pillow and her own moans were smothered by the material, but she soon felt a rising frustration. The boy's hips were moving faster now and she knew that if she didn't do something, his delicious seed would be spurted against her tunic and be wasted.