“Yeah?” Seymour kept up the light caresses, tracing over firm muscle and soft skin. “I know it’s not, well, that it’s not really you, but I hope it feels good.” He moved back to Sariel’s wings and massaged around their thick bases.
“Ah!” Sariel jerked.
Seymour froze. “What’s wrong?”
“They are sensitive.” Sariel shivered. “But in… a very euphoric way.”
Seymour noted how Sariel’s face flushed and the way his muscles shuddered beneath his skin. He grinned. “You mean in a sexy way?”
“Yes, that.”
Seymour returned to touching Sariel’s wings, tracing up the firm frame—he didn’t know what parts of wings were called—and along where the soft feathers attached. “So, this… feels good?”
Sarielmoaned. “Yes.”
Always eager to find new ways to pleasure Sariel and his unique anatomy, Seymour continued to stroke along each feature and back up, again and again. Watching how Sariel squirmed was thrilling, and he tried to pinpoint exactly where and how to elicit the strongest response.
There, right where the feathers attached, seemed to be it, judging by how Sariel suddenly rutted his hips into the bed.
“Feelin’ good, Daddy?” Seymour purred.
“Yes. So good.” Sariel gasped. “More please.”
Seymour worked his fingers along each individual feather and the bone above—he really needed to figure out what this was called, especially since Sariel seemed to enjoy it so much.
Sariel groaned, louder than before, grinding faster now. “Ah…Seymour.” He was breathless, his tone urgent and tinged with faint surprise. “Yes.”
“Oh, Daddy’s hot for some wingplay, huh?” Seymour grinned slyly and bowed his head, his tongue flicking out to give the feathers an experimental lick. They were soft, oddly smooth, and didn’t taste like anything in particular. He felt Sariel buck beneath him, so he did it again with a more confident lap.
“Ah!” Sariel cried.
“Good, Daddy?”
“Very.” Sariel inhaled sharply. “I am… close.”
Seymour glanced over Sariel, finding that he was trembling and sweating. The muscles beneath his human skin were writhing frantically, and a few gleaming eyeballs had broken through as he struggled to maintain this form. “I’ve got you,Daddy.” He mouthed at the base of Sariel’s left wing. “Mmm, I’ve got you… Just let go.”
“Ah, Seymour.” Sariel whimpered. “I…”
“Go on, Daddy,” Seymour urged. “Come for me.” He latched on to Sariel’s wing and sucked, using his tongue to stroke back and forth. Sariel’s responding moans were immediate and hot, and Seymour kept suckling to coax out more sweet cries. He reached for the other wing to stroke that one, and Sariel spasmed beneath him.
“Seymour!” Sariel groaned, the sound echoing and distorting as his climax hit. He fucked the bed with enough force that it banged against the wall, and his cries morphed into a roar that rattled the windows.
It was moments like this that Seymour was very thankful for magical soundproofing.
Because yup, that was a thing, and he made a mental note to thank Neil again for letting him know.
Seymour licked and mouthed up the crest of Sariel’s wing, still caressing the other as he hoped to work him through each blissful pulse. He stopped when Sariel finally went still, lifting his head to ask, “So, Daddy. You really do like havin’ your wings?—”
Sariel rolled beneath Seymour and then pounced with incredible speed, pinning him down to the bed with a searing kiss.
Seymour gasped, kissing back hungrily. He groaned as Sariel ripped his underwear clean off, and the sound of ripping fabric did unfair things to the already intense flow of blood to his cock. He hugged Sariel close, reaching around to fondle the bases of his wings. Now that he knew what that did for Sariel, he wanted to do it again and again.
Sariel, however, apparently had other ideas.
Strings of muscle burst out of his shoulders to pin Seymour’s hands to the sheets.
“Daddy is going to have his turn now,” Sariel said firmly, though he was smiling.
