Nathan no longer cared.
The damp scent in the air, Morvessa’s absurd posture—like a child who hadn’t learned to pee by herself—and even the strange vibrations between the thighs of that half-bird monster girl... all of it felt oddly reasonable.
Not because he was insane.
But because he had finally accepted that this world was never meant to be rational.
And maybe... love didn’t have to be, either.
His hand moved forward, slowly—like someone touching his grandmother’s old piano, the one she used to play farewell songs on.
But this wasn’t a piano.
And the place he reached for... wasn’t a key,
but a slit of memory never touched by anyone.
A slit that was wet. Warm. Strange.
Flesh that looked like it had been glazed in honey, waiting to be savored—beckoning Nathan’s tongue,
asking to be blessed by male saliva mixing with the sacred lubricant only a woman could make.
"I... may I?" Nathan whispered—more to himself than anyone else.
But his body had already answered.
His throat swallowed.
And as he leaned too close, his thoughts shifted from "May I?" to "Thank you... for trusting me this far."
Nathan’s tongue—somehow—had already touched a place even she rarely paid attention to.
Her body jolted, reflexive, like a sparking wire that still had some life left.
Yet somehow... it felt right.
That tongue greeted her cute little thing,
that tiny bundle of nerve endings designed solely for pleasure.
Saliva began to meet the pale slit—her private part looked like a luxurious dish far too expensive simply because the restaurant, or the brand, was famous.
"Na... than?" she hissed, barely audible.
But no voice replied—only a breath.
A soft exhale, spreading between her thighs like the timid fog rising from wet grass on a shy morning.
And what confused her even more:
Lilith was still holding her.
Still treating her like a child who hadn’t learned to squat on her own.
And her mother—no, the Tower Manager—was still hugging her from behind.
Lilith’s breathing was uneven now.
"He... he’s serious," Lilith whispered from behind, her voice like a TV narrator—too soft, yet clearly hiding an agenda.
Morvessa didn’t answer.
She merely closed her eyes, letting her body feel something that defied logic... but was far too hard to resist.
Her pale butt, framed by twin streaks of black feathers, began to tighten.
Her lower back arched, writhing ever so slightly.
The bird-woman monster who once attacked the Tower Manager in blind fury...
was now surrendering—savoring the rhythm of a man’s tongue plucking at the nerves of her most sensitive region with primal hunger.
Lilith watched Nathan from behind Morvessa’s body.
She was still kneeling, but because of her towering height, Nathan could comfortably enjoy the pale slit that was now being presented to him—like a sacred offering.
Her hands still held her Monster Girl’s thighs,
as if feeding fresh meat to a starving wolf cub—
a cub hungry for the kind of love he had only just started to taste.
A love he once tried to build on a degenerate foundation...
until memory and awareness returned to the Monster Girls, and shattered it all.
"You’re doing it, my child..." she said with a smile—one far too proud for someone with this little shame.
"You’re giving your sister happiness."
The word sister made his brain tap the brakes for a moment.
But another part of his body replied bluntly:
We don’t share blood, do we?
And deep inside, there was a voice—one he didn’t say out loud because, really, what would it change?
"She just can’t stop making all of this sound even more perverted... and taboo."
The Tower seemed to fall silent.
The air on that floor trembled—not from magic or monsters,
but from the absurdity of love that didn’t know its place.
Love born from a gaze, from warm bodies, and from understanding...
that even creatures who can fly
"He still has much to learn," Lilith whispered gently.
"But he’s already grasped one truth:
Giving... feels better than asking."
Morvessa could only give a tiny nod,
her body still lifted like a child being told to pee in the garden.
But her eyes were wet—not from tears.
Because finally, her body wasn’t just wanted...
Nathan lifted his face.
It was a bit messy. His hair tousled.
But his eyes sparkled like a child who just got candy after a month of fasting.
He looked up at Lilith—who was still holding Morvessa, but leaned closer now, her body pressing into the girl she lifted like a sacred doll.
And before he could say a word—
Lilith tilted her head and smirked,
and let out a slow breath scented like aged milk.
The slit between her thighs was still hidden, but the soft fabric outlined its contour like silk hugging forbidden curves. A single drip of sweat crawled down the inside of her thigh, slow and teasing—like even her skin wanted Nathan’s tongue to follow. Her breath... wasn’t the only thing dripping.
"My son..." she whispered, her voice lower than before.
Her chest rose subtly, the fabric of her dress tightening over those heavy white breasts. With each breath, the cleavage swelled—like dough rising in sacred heat. Nathan’s eyes couldn’t stop following it. Every inhale whispered a promise. Every exhale threatened to spill a revelation between bouncing milk mountains.
"Next is mommy’s slit, yeah?"
Nathan didn’t answer.
But his body... had already begun to move forward.
Like a puppy who just realized:
his first bone... wasn’t his last.
Nathan, with a mouth still slick with intimate fluids, swallowed without meaning to.
Lilith’s lips curled into a grin that wasn’t just seductive—it was instructional. Her eyes flicked downward, then back to him—silently guiding his next move. And Nathan, still tasting the nectar of Morvessa, realized: he wasn’t done. Not when another altar had just lifted its veil with a smile.