The gust of wind came from a pair of black wings—like a dark angel, Morvessa descended to the right side of two living beings who had been enjoying the open-air oral intimacy.
Her pale face showed a frown.
Nathan’s thrusting thigh froze—his hardened private glock still touching the end of her throat.
Domina’s eyes glanced sideways, a thick line of saliva dripping from her lips, clinging slowly to her caramel chin.
Her head slowly pulled back, releasing her caramel mommy lips from the glock that had been basking in lubrication and the heat of her throat walls.
The atmosphere turned silent.
The cock—now slick with saliva—throbbed faintly, while the caramel mouth it had just visited exhaled erratic warm breaths that brushed against the skin of a man thigh.
"What are you two doing?"
Morvessa squatted like a bird, her head tilted to the left, brows still furrowed, and her pale, firm breasts remained beautifully composed.
Nathan could only stay silent.
Meanwhile, Domina released her hands from Nathan’s thigh, her warm breath drifting away from his skin.
She stood up and wiped the saliva from her chin—but not all of it was gone. A small trail dripped onto her caramel tits, still warm and slightly sweaty.
Caramel Mommy struggled to catch her breath.
"Help him release the white water," she said with a smile.
The pale-skinned bird girl didn’t understand.
She walked closer—like a mommy bird bringing a worm to feed its kids.
Nathan swallowed hard.
What’s she gonna do? Is this gonna turn into a double blowjob?
His perverted soul smiled gleefully, eyes locking onto the pale, firm tits that slightly jiggled each time Morvessa moved.
Then his gaze lowered, staring at her pale thighs, faintly dusted with dark fur.
Morvessa finally arrived in front of Nathan.
Domina was still panting, her caramel tits rising and falling in erratic rhythm.
Morvessa stared at the slippery worm—furred and crowned with balls.
Her eyes locked onto the cockhead.
"What a strange body part," she muttered, tilting her head upward, eyes glancing toward Nathan’s face.
"Weird...." she said.
Morvessa paused for a moment, then slowly nodded.
"I... want to visit Validia." She turned toward the river.
Nathan didn’t respond.
Morvessa flapped her wings—graceful but cold—and flew away like an angel disappointed by the one deemed holy by millions, who turned out to sexually exploit a fragile and innocent body.
As the wind from her wings faded, Nathan stared at Morvessa.
His eyes followed the bird girl’s movement—or more precisely, the pale ass perfectly framed by the dark hair on her thighs.
"Pale-ass bird," he muttered, as if speaking a curse... or a compliment.
Domina, who had been standing with her chest rising and falling like a rabbit after a sprint, slowly knelt again.
A warm breath flowed from her nose and mouth, brushing against the head of Nathan’s shaft—wet and twitching like a biological weapon that had endured far too much ideological chaos.
Domina hadn’t touched him again.
Hadn’t sucked. Hadn’t licked.
But even her breath was enough to make his nervous system question whether he was making love... or being skinned alive by a gentleness that knew no sin.
Domina’s face was now right in front of him.
There was something in that face—a raw vulnerability, as if she were a bunny who only knew one thing: to make her master happy.
No fear. No shame. Only surrender... and a desperate desire to bring out the "white water" so Nathan wouldn’t suffer.
Then, slowly, his hand moved.
He held Domina’s head, but not to guide her into another blowjob.
He simply pressed his shaft against her cheek—a slow rub, a strange ritual that even Domina didn’t question.
As if it was a form of love, spoken in a language only understood by skin and saliva.
Domina’s cheek slightly indented from the shaft. Her bunny ears twitched softly.
Nathan stared at her deeply.
His grip on Domina’s head tightened—not out of anger, but out of a manic affection toward the unreasonable gentleness.
That feeling, the one that makes you want to squeeze something unbearably cute, bubbled up in Nathan’s chest.
Slowly, he pressed his thigh forward, increasing the friction between cock skin and cheek skin.
Saliva smeared across Domina’s cheek—like an overpriced, foreign skincare product, manufactured solely to exploit women’s insecurities, marketed by genetically-blessed influencers with no clue what the product actually does.
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Nathan"s shaft lingered on her cheek, warm and twitching—
not thrusting, not teasing—
as if trying to remember why it ever hardened in the first place.
And in that strange silence,
between lust and restraint—
something inside Nathan began to stir.
He felt weird—a mix of disgust and pleasure, like a reader who came looking for smut, but ended up discovering a pile of satire along the way.
That weird feeling started to fade...melting into lust.
Climax became the only thing in his mind.
Nathan looked at Domina’s face.
His hand moved, playing with her bunny ears, stroking her face, admiring her beauty.
The feeling that once mixed disgust and pleasure now backfired— but this time, it was filled with love.
His manly... yet lowly soul began to rise.
Refusing to be ruled by lust alone, he chose to embrace love.
He knew— the future would never play in perfect rhythm
if it was just cum after cum,
without a single emotional in rhyme.
His soul chose to pull the string of love,
even if it was disgusting as fuck.
Even if the moment came not from effort,
but from pure, absurd luck.
There was no reason to abandon the kindness
of this caramel mommy—
who gave his private glock
Stabbing his soul again, whispering:
You’re just a degenerate. Is it really a problem if you use them like toys?
You’re not special. So why give a fuck?
Just fuck, cum, and slap their butt.
Nathan’s fragile masculinity stirred.
His cracked confidence stood up like a half-broken pillar in a ruined shrine.
...Yeah, I’m a degenerate.
...But I can give them respect.
I... I have my own will.
Yeah... I’m not special. But them? They are.
They made me feel like I matter. And I think... they’re special to me.
So I will love them...
Amidst the absurdity,
The First Legendary Dick Master’s selective empathy
Still holding his nasty dignity,
still loving the caramel titty,
not pretending to be a hero,
nor a perfect man with billion-dollar worth crypto.
his balls can still dry.