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“Anyone want to tag along?” John asked the room of haremettes. With the menu open, he tapped the ‘regular indoor wear’ pre-set he had made, putting on the parts of his regalia that shared their appearance with simple clothes. Deep black, the shirt form of the Suit of the Chosen covered his chest, the uppermost two of the copper red buttons open. The pants had the same aesthetic and make. Both were primarily made from Schattengarn. The only real change his indoor set made was that he did not wear his shoes, Skittersteps. As far as John was concerned, that was a barbaric practice.

“What’s your plan, tiger?” Rave asked. Like most haremettes, she was still sitting around the dinner table, patting the soft rise of her filled belly. Flat as their midriffs were on the regular, even athletic and slender women did bloat up a little when they gorged themselves on Aclysia’s home cooked meals.

Exceptions to this were Claire and Eliana, both of which could turn food directly into energy, and Nathalia, whose inner workings could probably have filled an entire medical journal. Everyone else who did eat looked a little less sexy for it. The trade-off was that they were sated and happy, and that was entirely worth it.

“I was just going to hang out with her for a little bit and then take her somewhere. I should be back before midnight.” John waited for anyone to show interest.

Rave turned to Lydia. “How about it, ya wanna go along with tiger? You’ve yet to hang out with Gale.”

“A thought to consider,” Lydia hummed and sipped her cold brew. “I must admit to a sensation of laziness. Unbecoming of me, yet Aclysia’s food leaves even me in such a state.”

“How about I take her along the gala date instead?” John suggested. “That’d give you plenty of time to get to know each other.”

The redheaded royal carefully swung the teacup in her hand. Coffee swirled, just barely missing the rim. “Yes, I do find that option acceptable. You may inform her of the possibility.” Lydia took another sip. “A lady of her renown will need no reminder to show up in an appropriate gown.”

“Anyone else?” Rave asked the rest of the harem. A general sense of post-dinner laziness prevailed. A few responses also spelled out that they did not want to impede the courting of Nightingale too much. The harpy was fully built for the harem lifestyle, but John still needed some time to actually flirt with her and that was difficult with a dozen other voices in the room.

“I will join, for the initial talks,” Nathalia announced and got up.

It had now been several hours and the novelty of her breasts had worn off after constant exposure. John’s eyes still instinctively snapped to the heavy spheres, shifting around with each tilt of her torso. “Want to show off to your fellow goddess?” he guessed.

“She has a right to behold me, she is to be ours as well.”

John chuckled and offered his arm to the tall, nude dragoness. Never growing out even a single scale, she accompanied him all the way to Nightingale’s apartment. He did not comment on the matter. It was neither appropriate nor inappropriate for their current relationship with the night goddess. A certain mood would be doubtlessly set by it, however.

They heard Nightingale long before they saw her. Ajar, the door to her room let her voice echo through the corridor. She appeared to sing nothing in particular, random lyrics intermixing with note practice. Stronger than ever before, John felt the difference between her voice and Undine’s. Where the slime girl had a crystal-clear tone perfect for the opera or as leading singer of a choir, Nightingale’s voice was powerful and covered a lower range. Expertly, she manipulated her pitch. The volume increased as they approached.

Without additional music John found it difficult to consider what genre she was going for. By voice and fervour of the song alone, it felt like something high-octane like Rock or Symphonic Metal. Not exactly what John had expected of a siren famous for singing in high society.

The impression would gradually shift, as she turned to a melodic, slow song that he could have certainly seen as the accompanying piece to a gentle waltz. Lyrics covered the usual topics court music covered, a sense of pride for the privilege to rule, reminders of responsibility, the value of valour and the importance of gentleness.

John could not know if this was a song for him, but he enjoyed it all the same as he pushed open the door fully. They went down the corridor and carefully entered the living room.

Nightingale stood in the middle of her new abode, surrounded by lavender light and covered by her usual leotard. One of her wings was raised, like singers were prone to do with their arms when they were holding long notes as she was currently doing. Her eyes focused them for a moment and acknowledged their arrival, then they went back to halfway closed.

Continuing her singing, she was now performing rather than training. The constant shifts of her subject matter stabilized and adhered to genres for the duration of each song. Three she presented to him and Nathalia. The first was a calm, melancholic shanty, which John recognized as the song called ‘Bones in the Ocean’. The second was a song that gradually grew faster, with lyrics that felt like they belonged on a melody like ‘In the Hall of the Mountain King’. The third was a return to the feeling of Rock and Metal, specifically she sang the old-time classic ‘Barracuda’ by Heart. She mimicked the tone of the original songstress incredibly well.

When she was finished, she threw her head back in a cascade of black hair and folded her wings. From one moment to the next, she transformed from Rock performer to the diligent lady she usually was. Hiding the lower half of her face behind the ‘wrist’ of her left wing, she turned to her audience. John and Nathalia had sat down on one of the many couches. “I hope you were pleased by my songs, my suitor?”

“Your vocal range is impressive,” he told her with a smile and padded the spot to his right. Much like Lorelei earlier, Nightingale first sat down at a reasonable distance, then was pulled against him by the assertive Gamer. “I was incredibly pleased,” he added in a whisper, befitting the twilight of the room. “I would love to hear more in the coming days and years.”

“You may have that wish fulfilled,” the pale harpy purred and tilted her back. “Nathalia, your company is surprising and appreciated.” For a moment, she paused, her purple eyes taking proper stock of the dragoness for the first time since they entered. “Your appearance has shifted in ways small and unignorable.”

“After last night’s conversation, I decided to adjust my avatar to my mate’s desires.”

“How interesting. I wonder if such an ability is accessible to me as well.” Nightingale pulled her wing back and revealed her curves, stark naked as Nathalia was. “Do you prefer the well-endowed?”

“I have no strong preference for breasts of any size. It just fit my Nathalia to have the largest breasts in my harem, for many reasons,” John told her. With lust no less than what he felt for the much taller and curvier dragoness to his left, his eyes trailed all over the night goddess’ curves. They made their way up her thighs, looking especially delicious flattened on the couch, over her midriff, to her petite, perky breasts and up to her black lips.

As much as he enjoyed all of her body, the sight of her sultry, glistening lips had him the most excited. All of him remembered what laid beyond them, the ecstasy she could bring both of them. Noticing his stare, Nightingale visibly swallowed.

“You mind if I use Observe on you?” John asked, while he still had some blood upstairs.

“I will conceal aspects of it,” the goddess informed, otherwise giving him permission. All John had wanted to confirm was her stat block anyway. Her Libido had risen from 10 to 17 since he had taken her throat virginity.

‘Yup, Newman Effect in full swing,’ John thought to himself, explaining both what he wanted to check and the term he had come up for it.

“It is impossible to not grow more desiring when bestowed with such ecstasy,” Nightingale responded dismissively. She had doubtlessly noticed her own horniness spike over the past week. She let out a long sigh, slightly distorted by the beginnings of a slimy undertone. “And I have no toys to take care of myself here.” Demonstrably parting her legs, she revealed her dark grey pussy. “I’m completely at your mercy.”

‘Definitely the Newman effect.’ Nightingale had several hours to fix this issue in some form, yet she waited for him to help her resolve it. Admittedly, why would she spend time masturbating when she knew she could get railed in a few hours? That was not necessarily a sign of submissiveness. It was definitely a sign that she wanted this as much as he did.

John took his hand off her side and discarded his clothes. The goddesses reacted instantly, both of them staring at his abs and mostly erect cock like he did at their butts and thighs. Simultaneously, they bowed down. While Nathalia continued greedily towards his cock, Nightingale slowed, letting the dragoness take the dominant position and get the first taste of him.

Drooling, she watched, her lips wetter than her pussy, as Nathalia effortlessly took him all the way into her throat. Her enormous tits half laid on the left side of his groin and his leg, squished into a pancake of raw delight. For a little bit, she monopolized him, bobbing up and down wildly. Then she slowly glid back up and let his dick pop out of his mouth.

Nightingale’s slimy tongue wrapped around his glans the moment it was exposed to the air. Venerating, the harpy kissed the tip. “I ahwoahke weht, dreahming of thish,” she confessed, while her tongue swirled around. Wings brushing on his right leg, John groaned when she wrapped her lips around him proper and diligently sunk down. The angle changed much about the sensation of penetrating her throat, but her mouth was a hole evolved to pleasure men all the same. Sticky wet folds gripped his dick, massaging and sticking to the length.

When Nathalia demandingly nudged closer, the harpy obliged and let go of his cock again. Eagerly, she awaited when the dragon goddess would let her have her next turn.

While John greatly enjoyed the back and forth blowjob, there was a minor issue he had to contend with. There was a raised, pale butt to his right and a raised, light brown butt to his left. Fundamentally, it was obvious what he had to do, but he lacked the reach to touch both of them at the same time.

‘Time for old solutions,’ John thought and retrieved a vibrator from his inventory. It was a medium sized, phallic object, designed to stay in place even if there were no hands holding it. Possession extended his consciousness to take control of the object, as he stretched all the way to reach Nathalia’s massive, round backside. Part of why she could rock such an enormous rack was that her ass had the size to match.

He felt her moans around his dick, as he inserted the vibrator, and the shouts that followed when he willed it into action. With the workaround applied, John turned the attention of his hands to Nightingale. It was much easier to reach around her heart-shaped derriere, courtesy of her being over ten centimetres shorter.

Trailing over the roundness of her left cheek, John reached her pussy just as her lips enveloped his manhood again. With great care and respect, she took him inside, savouring the time she had been granted. Each bob of her head brought her deeper down, while her tongue, tightly sealed lips, and quivering throat folds caressed every centimetre of his cock. The depth of her throat around his dick felt just like her pussy around his fingers, as he masturbated the eager harpy.

John was holding some of Nightingale’s hair, preventing it from getting in the way too much. The moment Nathalia demandingly inched closer, he moved his digits to instead hold onto her horn. Backing off, the harpy let the dominant dragoness reclaim her mate’s manhood. Untamed and greedy, the redhead rapidly moved up and down, ever concerned with stuffing herself with his cock.

Watching and moaning, Nightingale only caught herself drooling on his leg after several drops of the viscous secretions of her throat pussy had already dripped down on him. John did not care, and when another orgasm, brought by his rapidly moving fingers, made her tongue loll out again, neither did the embodiment of the night. Her climax was made that much more intense when she got to take him into her mouth.

There were two goddesses in the room, but with the way they treated his dick, he felt like he was the deity around here. Nightingale’s venerating service interchanged with Nathalia’s wild, almost primal cocksucking. The different styles achieved the, ultimately, same thing.

John’s enjoyment of it all was intense, Nightingale was getting off repeatedly from being stimulated on both ends, and Nathalia, realizing that her own pleasure was the least of the three, grew discontent. As much as the dragoness liked to take his enormous dick down her throat, she did not have the sensitivity other haremettes or Nightingale had. All she could rely on was the vibrator.

“How about you use your tits again?” John suggested, knowing what was going on. A displeased women in a sexual engagement with him was not something he accepted and this was, fantastically enough, a solution.

“Splendid suggestion,” Nathalia purred in agreement. She glided off the couch and crawled, on all fours, the short distance in front of him. With lowered head and continuous gasps, Nightingale watched, just as he did. Cupping her massive tits, Nathalia leaned in. Clean boobs were made immediately sticky from the mixture of juices covering his cock. “Help me lubricate,” Nathalia demanded.

The harpy nodded and bowed over the breasts that near-entirely enveloped his manhood. Only the tip peeked out, oozing precum that was quickly joined by the strands of Nightingale’s drool, flowing from her pointy, purple tongue. Nathalia, all the while, was shaking her breasts. One rose, then the other, spreading the lubrication in the ravine between.

John’s view was obstructed by Nightingale, but that did not bother. As a matter of fact, he had already resolved to make this obstruction absolute. Putting his right arm under her hips, the Gamer lifted the slender woman up by her bottom half. If Nightingale was confused by this, she did not make a single sound. The purpose of it became clear quickly anyway.

Carefully, John settled Nightingale down with her thighs on his shoulders and her crotch in his face. The dark grey pussy lips were swollen, the hints of pink further inside vaguely visible. Supporting the position, John slung his arms around her sides and brought them down on her butt with a little bit of a smack. The jiggle right in front of his face made his cock twitch between the squish downstairs.

Nightingale’s ass was a heart-shaped work of art of a nicely balanced size for her slender figure. The pale flesh almost seemed to glow in the twilight of the room. Dug by his grasping fingers, the trenches in the soft, relaxed cheeks were a delightful showcase of how much there was to yield. Even if she was, in the context of his entire harem, one of the less bottom-heavy women he tangled with, she still had an ass that would have landed her on the cover of any swimsuit magazine she would have cared to model for.

She also had a honeypot that John could no longer resist.

Probing her labia with his tongue, he pushed around the swollen, entertainingly puffy outer area of her sex. Fully stretched, he circled her clit and heard her delighted moans in response. Nightingale was no longer holding back her voice when they made love. She also did not get quite as loud as many others. John indulged himself in the measured volume of her cries all the same.

The taste of cold, sweet lavender filled his mouth. Nightingale was colder than humans, like a summer night compared to the day. That was, all in all, pleasant, and only added to the difference of sensations when Nathalia pulled her tits back to let Nightingale have her turn again.

Both goddesses were now using a part of them that was absurdly more sensitive than it regularly was supposed to be and both of them were getting their pussies teased by him. Whether a vibrator did a better job than his tongue could be argued; John liked to believe it was the latter. Fact was only that Nathalia was no longer displeased.

Nightingale’s throat clenched around his cock. The orgasmic tightness made it near impossible for her to glide upwards. Sticking vacuum tight to his cock, the folds only let him go through effort. His shaft was never exposed to the air. When the night goddess was deepthroating him, she had her nose buried in Nathalia’s tits. When she retreated, the dragoness advanced. There was never a moment where his dick was not tended to in its entirety.

There was absolutely no rhythm to their back and forth. It was all as Nathalia demanded. Time taken or orgasm had made no difference to the volcano goddess’ whims.

Hot and cool, wild and methodical, dominant and serving, soft tits and tight throat, the irregular interchanges of pleasure dominated John’s senses. Gradually, he reached his climax. Just as he was about to burst, Nathalia’s tits were replaced not with Nightingale’s mouth but her own. The harpy’s tongue coiled around his shaft, masturbating him while his balls tightened.

Nathalia’s lips sat tight around his glans, while his seed pumped into her mouth. The ecstasy was powerful enough that John had to close his eyes and rest his head against the couch. Spurt for spurt, into the nymphomaniac goddess, no rope any less thick than the last. The breathing of both cascaded over his wet shaft. Nathalia’s was deep, desperate and infrequent, interrupted by orgasmic shouts muffled by the cum in her mouth. Nightingale exhaled through her open mouth. Long and lusting cries, marked with the desire for what the redhead claimed and the aftershocks of previous orgasms. The tensing of his shaft decreased in frequency and strength, until he had nothing left to give.

Suddenly, Nightingale was pulled off him. The taller and physically superior dragoness effortlessly pulled her off the couch as she rose to her feet. Confused, the embodiment of the night just went along with it when Nathalia half-hugged her and opened her mouth.

Thick white cum flowed from the redhead’s mouth. Directed by her tongue, she fed it to Nightingale, who eagerly positioned herself to receive it. It was a beyond messy way to swap his cum, which made it all the hotter for John to witness. Less than half of his semen ended up where it was supposed to, the rest covering their faces or running down their joined chests.

Eventually, Nathalia closed her mouth and swallowed what remained. “Wh-ah-t a wasteful way,” she said, between a growl and a moan. Her reprimanding glance went to John. “Claim this one as yours swiftly, so her lips become ours in totality.” Without waiting for his answer, she returned to Nightingale. “You have pleased me again, young one. Treat my mate well, this night.”

Nathalia left the room, satisfied.

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