Morvessa’s voice cracked the sky.
Like the third angel descending to investigate who stole Heaven’s spare key for solo use.
Validia and Nathan’s kiss paused.
But only for a moment.
Validia licked Nathan’s lips like she was savoring the final dessert before going to war.
His breath hitched. The taste she left behind was humid—sweet, but with a tangy afterburn like fruit soaked in body heat. A ribbon of drool stayed between their lips, quivering like a tightrope walker’s final step. Nathan’s heart thumped. His tongue twitched. His pants grew... less theoretical.
"Ah... sorry," she murmured, then turned upward. "Oh... Morvessa."
Morvessa floated midair, her black wings stretched wide like a banner reading "NO ERECTIONS IN THE AGRICULTURAL ZONE."
"You all..." her gaze swept downward, "...what are you doing?"
Validia responded without hesitation.
"Following Nathan’s orders."
Nathan—still breathless between kisses and coils—suddenly felt like he was under a surprise tax audit.
Each suck of her lips pulled at his sanity. Her teeth grazed the edge of his lower lip, and her tongue curled in like a thief. Nathan tasted honey, sin, and maybe a little blood. And beneath it all, heat. Heat that wanted to melt not just his lips—but him.
"Eh!? I—I didn’t—that’s not what I meant—wait, I was just—"
Morvessa nodded once.
Just cold bureaucratic compliance.
And then she descended.
Not like a guardian angel.
More like a tired owl who’s caught her teenage kids jerking it one too many times.
She landed on Nathan’s thigh—or more precisely, squatted on it.
Like she was eavesdropping on a food cart vendor.
Her claw touched his skin. Ck.
The talon grazed his skin like a cold spoon dipped in heat. It didn’t cut—it kissed. And somehow, the pressure made his thigh twitch. A low pulse shot from muscle to groin. It wasn’t pain—it was permission. His dick bobbed slightly, hidden under foam, like it just nodded.
Nathan twitched. "Ah—!"
"Apologies," Morvessa murmured. "Reflexive grip."
Validia—barely missing a beat—took the opportunity.
This time harder. Deeper. More aggressive.
Her kiss felt like diplomatic warfare—and Nathan was the small neutral country being annexed by force.
Morvessa kept watching from below. Then... her eyes shifted.
Now almost invisible beneath foam, soap, and Velmora’s unrelenting snake embrace.
"Hm," Morvessa muttered.
"It looks like a worm. A... silver worm?"
"Why does it keep twitching?"
Beneath the foam, his shaft twitched like a submerged eel catching lightning. Each motion from Velmora’s coils made it spasm helplessly, like it was trying to scream underwater. And that shimmer? It wasn’t magic. It was shame, sweat, and pre-cum—swirling together into a silver-colored embarrassment of divine biology.
Tower Manager, in the control room—
The scent of her own arousal clung to the glass panel beside her, fogging it like a sauna window. One nipple brushed the screen, leaving a smear. She didn’t wipe it. She moaned into it. Her legs twitched open wider, like gates welcoming a holy invasion of unspeakable purpose.
Her hands? No longer "just touching" herself.
One had migrated upward—now clutching her milky-white breasts.
Her black dress was a crumpled mess from her own greedy hands.
Every movement made her nipples more visible, less justifiable under her job title of "Administrator."
"Ahhh... my son..." she moaned.
One hand squeezed tightly.
"My son... my soooon..."
She writhed in her chair.
Panels around her trembled.
One even clicked itself—accidentally triggered by the curve of her breast brushing a holographic interface.
Back in the Tower fields.
Morvessa stared again at Nathan’s shaft.
Velmora was still very much engaged.
Her noises sounded like a high school girl discovering the joy of her first washing machine.
The coils weren’t just slick. They pulsed—contracted—milked. Each motion was a love letter in the language of friction. Velmora’s scales rubbed and tightened like she was buffing a relic, but that relic moaned. A wet squelch echoed every time she twisted. Nathan’s balls? Fully submerged in love-lather.
"I have to keep moving," Velmora muttered, writhing.
"Forward... back... coil again... until the white water comes out~!"
Morvessa narrowed her eyes. "White water?"
And then—a memory surfaced.
That day. The first time she saw Nathan.
Domina hugging him from behind, her hands enthusiastically playing Nathan’s holy flute.
She still didn’t understand why it came out of him.
She thought it was venom once. Or healing nectar. But no—white water wasn’t medicine. It was madness. A creamy delirium that emerged only when women wrapped themselves around Nathan like sentient lingerie. The memory was warm, wet, and confusing. Just like her current view.
Back to absurd reality.
Validia grew even more aggressive.
All of a sudden, she feel need to do more than just sucking his mouth. Maybe... i can lick his tongue, also inside his mouth... She thought. Her tongue dove into Nathan’s mouth like a pro diver searching for lost treasure.
Their breaths tangled—hot, crashing.
Their saliva didn’t just connect—it oozed like uncontrollable slime, dripping from lips to neck, nearly touching Nathan’s nipple.
His shaft—now resembling a soap-drenched limousine—was still being coiled and pumped by Velmora, who had long entered full sensual autopilot.
And on his thigh, Morvessa sat.
Nathan mumbled internally.
This... this pleasure... it’s getting unreal...
He no longer knew where reality ended.
Validia’s kisses turned feral.
One hand still gripped her horn.
The other? Twitching uselessly—bent at an awkward angle like a remote soaked in water.
Validia seized the back of Nathan’s head. Pressed it down.
His nose sank into her cheek, and his lips couldn’t escape. Her tongue bullied its way deeper, curling like smoke. Her grip on his scalp wasn’t possessive—it was surgical. Nathan didn’t resist. He couldn’t. His brain floated. His spine sang. The only thought he had was: more.
Nathan lost his breath.
Heaven... this is heaven... I...
He began laughing silently in his head.
What would it feel like... to climax ...?
And amidst the swirling absurdity—
He remembered something.
A weird skill he once dismissed as useless.
A crooked smile formed.
—This time... he said inwardly.
His eye glowed—half-insane.
Validia’s tongue dove back in.