“Morning” came all too soon, but at least it greeted Francis with the sweetest of kisses. And the brightest of faces. Cassidy smiled down upon him as he blinked away his weariness, looking into that beaming visage. Her eyes seemed to glow in the creeping darkness, hidden under the soft steam of the mug in her hand. He took it, and mumbled a thank you before tipping back that amber brew.
Tasting the cruel reality.
“Morning,” Bridget said, becoming clearer as that haze of sleep fully fled. The harpy was nowhere to be seen, with not a feather of a trace to be had in the bed. The redheaded witch, meanwhile, stood proudly over him, holding her own mug, waiting for him to wholly to his senses. “You have a gift for timing.”
“Huh?” He uttered, taking another sip- and couldn’t fight back his gag. The aftertaste was so strong now that it hid the mocha and coffee behind a veil of flowers. “Hoo, man! You overdid it this batch.”
“I know. Sorry... I let it steep too long... Mind if I sit?” He slid his legs back, and she tittered as she sat beside, taking another drink from her cup. She sighed, looking off to the window a moment... before snapping her attention back to him. “You stirred as soon as I entered the room.”
“Funny how that works... Have you seen Cass?”
“Oh! You must mean Cassidy Crane.”
“As in the bird? Oh, the irony... She was here earlier- last night- whatever the fuck you want to call it.”
She tittered, and ruffled his hair.
“You are a real grouch in the morning, aren’t you? A right old bear.” She cooed, really scritching his hair, getting down to the scalp. He grumbled and growled, but lulled under those fingers, smacking his lips- feeling the cup pressed back up to it. “Careful now. You almost dropped it... Do you like head scratches that much?”
“Like you wouldn’t... believe...” He brayed... yes. Brayed. Like a bull, leaning against her hand, against her as he rose a little out of the sheets. He was still in the suit from the day before, but he could still feel her warmth through that soft, red slip- “Hey. Don’t you work today?”
“I do, but I came early.”
“Ah.” He opened his eyes a little, and saw that “slip” was generous. It was barely more than a veil of red mist, yet even then her crimson tips shown through. Her pale skin seemed to shine, like crystal, cascading such color through the negligee, lulling his eyes down, down to her waist, her hips. There, barely hidden behind a crimson thong, was a maidenhood screaming for love, reeking of need... forsaken as he drank from the cup. Gagging again.
“You don’t need to drink it if it’s too strong,” she said, but the way her hand pushed said otherwise. The way her other kept playing, fondling with his hair, pushing him d-
“It’s fine.” He stated, and sat up... Remembering he was asking about someone... Who th- “Cassidy. Have you seen her?”
“I have not. Though, knowing her, she went home early to prepare for her tests- that’s right! I forgot to mention. She hasn’t been in class all week-”
“I know. W- she told me.” He groaned, and dug his phone out of his pants pocket. “Damn. I hoped she would have been here long enough for me to give her my number.”
“You have a phone?”
“A gift from Des.”
“You know Des but not Cass?”
“To be fair, harpies are a dime a dozen while I’ve only ever seen four lamia.”
That you are allowed to remember, he thought... and finished off the cup. Strange as it was, he was starting to really enjoy that aftertaste... was it strange, though? Really, given his “relationship” with Nicole- which she was gone until Wednesday! Three days all to himself. Oh, glorious-
“It seems you are running low,” Bridget said, taking the cup from him. She leaned over him as she did, burying his face into her cleavage... smelling her soft, lavender perfume, lingering from her night out. He could smell the smoke and polish from the bowling alley, as well as the bitter tang of that city, but it was buried under that lavender and her natural, enticing arom- She giggled as she stood, removing her hand at last from his head, and he was face-to-face with those wafting lips below. “I’ll be right back. Is the same batch okay?”
“If it’s all you got right now,” he mumbled, and watched after her, his mind in a daze from that assault on his senses, as she left. He rolled on his back, and noticed that he had a right tent in the bed. His “pants” had rolled up to his short hairs, his mast free to hold up those three blankets.
“Not. Good,” he said, repeating it as his heart began to hammer. If it was Eve or Nicole, he wouldn’t give a toss. Eve wouldn’t pay it any mind and Nicole... that helped some in lowering the flag. Some, but not enough. As much as he would love to bend that saucy little redhead over and take her, he wanted her to stew a little bit longer. She wasn’t exactly making it subtle what she wanted; he wanted her begging to fuck her. It’s been so long since he broke a smart woman, a strong-willed one- and that only made up for the thought with Nicole. Dammit!
Francis huffed. And heard the door open in the entry. He didn’t have much time. All he had was his phone, and that was loaded with pictures of Des-
And a new message from “Destiny”.
Good morning, sunshine. Did the harpy take your date well?
He scoffed- but his member did lower. Fast- only to twitch and engorge as he gave it thought. Focus dumbass! You have less than thirty seconds. He shot “Destiny” a message, turning on his side as he did, away from his door as the redhead entered.
Beats me. She left before we could talk. How are you this morning?
It sent, and Bridget took her place again beside him, handing him the cup. She tittered, seeing the phone in his hand, and showed she brought hers, as well.
“Already on it, huh?” She said. “Who are you texting this early?”
“No one in particular... But yeah. Des gave it to me and has been bombarding it with tit pics.”
She gasped, blushing... but giggled.
“I have never seen her so... She must really like you,” she said.
“Seems that way.”
“Well? What about you? Do you like her?”
“As much as someone can like a stalker snake lady.” He took a drink- HELLO FLOWERS. It was as if his head was sent forward in time to spring –or backward... considering how it spun, yes. His hand quivered on the cup, his other rattling the phone as he tried so hard to keep hold of it. “Goddamn!”
“That was the bottom of the jar,” she said, giggling even more-
“Wait. Jar? Don’t you mean pot?”
“Pot, jar; it’s too early for my brain to focus.” She sighed, and her hand met his head again, humming as she pulled him against her chest. “I wish I could spend the entire day just ruffling this hair... You know, us witches are attuned to the natural world far more than any other being.”
“You feel so nice to hold... If you don’t mind, after I come home tonight, would you like to go out and grab something to eat? It won’t be anything grand, but- well, I hate review week. This is going to be so stressful. Going over what the students did wrong, correcting them, seeing their hopes shattered over small things that can be easily fixed... I really need someone.”
Her voice cracked as she said it, and Francis felt something wet drip into his hair, rubbed in. She sniffed, but tried to chuckle to cover it up, her breath shuddering in her quivering bosom... Francis took another drink from his mug, hoping it would warm his dying hard, but the veil of summer inside that cup seemed to only prick the poor thing worse, as if he was truly ingesting roses that were tearing at it. He sighed, finishing off that cup, and pulled back enough to look into her eyes, sparkling with tears.
“Oh come on. How can I say no to that?” He said, and wiped one of the tears away. “Fine... I should be hungry by then. I like food, and like to see you happy.”
“Really?” She cooed, and let his hair go, squeezing her cheeks as she giggled again. “You’re so kind... but I know I sort of put you on the spot-”
“Nah. It’s fine. Seriously. I want to.”
“My knight in shining armor... Here. Let me see your p- oh my. You weren’t kidding with how... promiscuous she is being.”
“Why? How m- forty!? She sent forty since waking up!” He groaned, and swiped the phone open, feeling a bit guilty that the lamia was his background as she put in her number. She tapped a simple message, and her cell gave a small chime, indicating the deed was done. She handed it back, and ruffled his hair one more time before standing, forcing him face-to-face with her bottom again... and, this time, she wasn’t wearing any panties. It was perfectly shaved to boot, with the quivering bud at the top of those folds glistening with her need.
“I’ll be bugging you all day now,” she said, almost singing it, and pat his head one last time before tittering and skipping away. “I’ll be needing you more than ever this week, my knight.”
I bet, he thought... and laid on his back again. His mind, though, kept that picture of those delicate, glistening lips, of that perked bud, rivaling his own member in how it lusted after. The door closed, and he wasted no time throwing back the sheets, grabbing firmly to his rod, already drooling from the tip. It didn’t take him too long to pop off the first, painting the ceiling with it, but he still wasn’t content. He was nowhere near content. As usual, it was never enough for him to do it anymore, and, after what happened, there was only one person that could truly fulfill his need... but, the problem was, she was family-oriented. Did he really want to commit for some cloned tail? She was cloned, though. He could always go down in the basement and grab a fresh one. He could fuck her s- and he couldn’t breathe as the second launched with that thought- then the third. The bed creaked, begging him to stop, but it was hidden under the deluge that pattered down-
Silenced by the entry clicking open.
His heart stopped. His mind cleared, horrified by the winter wonderland he turned the world around in such a short time. The cause of it was still engorged, still demanded him to keep going, and yelled at him as he dove onto the ground, crawling towards the bathroom. He didn’t hear it nor cared to at that moment. He needed to get in there, needed to close the door, if only for a moment.
He heard talons enter the entry, clack into the kitchen, spurring him on to that tiled room. In four, quick sweeps, he was in. He kicked the door shut behind and stood, stripping out of that suit as fast as he could and tossing it in the hamper. His rod, once again, was a burden, stopping him from pulling the “shorts” in any way. He didn’t want to rip them- there was only one solution. He dove into the shower and blasted the cold water. He took down the shower head, switched to it stream, and aimed it right at the tip.
That was the day Francis learned he was an opera singer. And a true glutton for punishment. Even with that force, with that frigid assistance, his rod stood strong –and, even, got off one more time, coating the head. His pants were drenched, sticking to his prickling flesh, and it was the chill against his orbs that ultimately brought the Goliath down. Those poor baubles weren’t meant for that abuse, but, if it meant striking down the beast, so be it. And it did. It shrunk back under his pant’s leg and they finally were able to be rolled off.
Francis heaved one helluva sigh, tossing them into the hamper, and turned the water off. He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his middle, and left for the bedroom again... thanking God for fairies. Cassidy was on the bed, the room clear of any misgivings, smelling of honey and fresh linen as she munched on a piece of bacon.
“There you are,” he said, and smirked as he sauntered over. He sat beside her... and stole one of the other strips of bacon in her other hand.
“Hey,” she whined, pawing after, but giggled as she pecked his lips. “Sorry. I should have said something. I went to grab us breakfast. It’s in the kitchen, but I wanted to jump you.”
“You mean like this?”
He roared, a playful thing, and she squeaked-then-exclaimed as he pounced upon her, pushing her down to the bed. Cassidy “fought” underneath, squirmed as he held her down, but went still as his lips met hers- stealing the piece of bacon there. She gasped, lunging after, and broke the tip off, tittering as she made quick work of it- only to whine as he stole another from her palm, holding it out of his lips like a stuck tongue- making her lunge- but miss, kissing him again.
Francis swallowed, and let her up, chortling as she crossed her arms, pouting.
“Jerk,” she grumbled, sighing... and shot him a glance. “Did you enjoy your night?”
“It was fine. For the most part. Nothing too exciting. The bar was set too high at the start when I destroyed her phone –I have one, by the way.”
She sat up. “You have a-” He reached back and dangled it before her, making her squeal. “Awesome! That means I can message you. Here. Let me see it so I can... punch...”
Her jaw dropped, and he couldn’t blame her. Even at a glance, to see over ninety messages piled up from four different sources was... astonishing. Most of them were from a certain lamia, showing that she truly loved the camera, but there was three from Bridget, two from Beatrice, and one from Destiny. Francis cleared his throat... five times- and finally had to grope her waist to bring her back to reality. She gasped, shook her head, and punched in her number at last –thrice; the first two failed. Her phone buzzed in her shirt and she handed his back, leading to a very tense breakfast.
She didn’t speak. It was for the best; even if she tried, the way her visage kept switching, flip-flopping, it was a miracle she didn’t dribble any food out. Not that he was paying it much mind. He had a backlog to go through, which, for Desiree’s, it was finding any form of message to answer to. Beatrice was teasing him for when he finally got down to her, while Bridget sent her confirmation and how she couldn’t wait... Destiny, though.
I would be better if I were in bed with you.
… What does one even say to that? How does one even approach that! How did they know... Were they watching, even now? Where and, again, how?
“So,” Cassidy finally spoke, making his fork scratch the plate. He was in the middle of folding a piece of pancake, loaded with berries and a touch of honey, slopping out as her utterance made him jump in the chair. “You seem popular-”
“Okay. I’m saying this now: Don’t pull the jealous shit,” he said. “We aren’t technically together, and we only had one date.”
“As you did with Tina. A Fang.”
“Oh. Nothing, nothing... do you consider yourself dating her?”
“Though after a couple more dates.”
“You plan to date her again?”
“Sure, why not?”
“But what about us? Aren’t we having another date this weekend?”
“Again, yes, and?”
“W-well, didn’t you s-s-say after a couple dates-”
“That I might consider it. I haven’t considered it. Yet.” He managed to wrangle that piece of pancake once more and shoved it into his craw, glaring at her. “Look. I’m not turning you down, but there’s this little thing called freedom. Freedom and choice. As far as everything is going, you’re in the lead; aren’t you happy with that?”
“I don’t feel in the lead-”
“Why? Because of Des?” He chuckled, holding up his phone- buzzing on cue. “This has been more than enough proof. This girl thirsty as hell. Desperation is not a good look. I like tits as much as the next guy, but this? This is overboard... I would say you have to worry more about Bridget, but, well...”
“Well... you know... You don’t, do you?” She shook her head, and he groaned as he drank a cup of water. “She’s a teacher. I’m a student.”
“That’s sort of a big no-no.”
“Not really. There’s no punishment for such at Vereor Nox.”
“You’re shitting me... No. Seriously. You’re shitting me!” Then why did Eve... He groaned, pinching his brow. “I thought we were only having fun teasing each other. There was a chance she was serious!”
There was a chance she was serious. His rod bounced straight up, and the table thundered. The plates on it rattled as they both landed back down and the food returned as well... He cleared his throat.
“Anyways.” He started, taking another drink of water. “You have tests today so you better hurry up and eat.”
“Don’t remind me... I wish you stayed home last night-”
“Yes yes. At least you’ll have me all of Sunday... then I return to school Monday.”
She nodded, and finished off her plate. The harpy stood and kissed him on the head before depositing it in the sink, heading off... Francis sighed, and swung his legs over to the right, glaring down at his rod, its covering on the ground.
“Some days I just want to rip you off,” he grumbled- and heard a soft fluttering. “But I owe you guys a big one. I really didn’t want to explain that mess.”
There was no answer. Not verbally. Instead, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of light on the table. When he looked that way, there was a simple post-it note with rushed, tiny scrawl.
Don’t mention it. Just, please, get a girlfriend already!
“I’m working on it! Sheesh... everyone’s always in a rush.”
He huffed... but looked down upon his phone, wondering if it was such a good idea. Would this Destiny accept it, or would they simply make his life worse? What sort of person were they, aside a darker stalker than the lamia... All questions in time. He needed to get dress and begin week two of his “vacation”. Beatrice was already gunning for him and he didn’t want to disappoint.