She wants to try something; alright... The new sensation almost confuses Harold but he dives right into it like so many things this night. This is different but a good different... oh, that was a good spot... that's a little... whoa, that really was a good spot...

Harold thinks for a beat before answering Carver, "I could definitely do that some more... I mean, some of it worked really well but other parts just seem to go with it." He catches her slightly confused look and tries to disarm it with a smile, "Oh no, don't get me wrong, I really liked a lot of it, especially that one..." Ugh, how to explain it? Fingers dance strangely in a futile attempt at an illustration, "You know, when you..."

Ugh, this isn't working. "Hold on a sec," Harold says before filling his own mouth with water, trying to cool his own tongue. Remember it's backwards this time. Tongue tingling, he swallows the water, "Here, I'll show you." Gently placing one hand where the back of head and neck meet, Harold leans into Carver and kisses her, carefully trying to match her motions from before.

He smiles excitedly at her, "Like that... you do that the right number of times in the right places and who knows what'll happen."

*  *  *

That had worked better than she had hoped it would; the cool tongue in her mouth had been exotic but familiar.

"That a challenge?" Carver grins as she draws some more water into her mouth. As Harry eagerly grins in answer, she kisses him again concentrating on the areas that he had pointed out. She stops only to take another drink; she dives back in as soon as her mouth is cool again.

She can't wait to see what will happen...

*  *  *

Wow, she's really taking to this... she's getting good at this... Carver's eager and deft tongue taunts Harold, teasing him with a delicate taste of what's to come while giving pleasure at the same time. In return, he chases her with own warmth, tracing competing lines of hot and cold between both of them.

Unguided, their hands run over each other's bodies, adding to the building familiarity between them. His body shudders unexpectedly as she grazes her fingers across his side. Whoa, her right hand got cold from that bottle... but damn does that feel good in the right places. And his left hand has cooled down too... hmmm...

The game being played in their mouths starts to be mimicked on their bodies, but this time cool mirrors cool instead of a chase, drawing out little and surprised tremors of pleasure. Oooo, that's a good spot... And she liked it too... There's so much to explore, so many different... hold on... Harold pulls his head back for a beat just before Carver reaches more water and he gives her a taunting grin, "I have an idea... do you trust me?"

*  *  *

Carver gasps as Harry takes the play to the next level, caressing her body with cool pleasure. Harry's fingers trail over her skin, burning her not with heat, but with sensation.

She returns the favor without being asked, testing where he likes it best, what spot makes him moan the loudest, what makes him shudder. He's doing the same to her, though and she evidences her pleasure through small groans, through unstoppable trembles, through the language of all lovers.

Harry pulls back from her, giving her a split second of disappointment, but he doesn’t leave her. Instead, he gives her a taunting grin and says, "I have an idea... do you trust me?"

“Of course,” she says instantly. After what they’ve done, how could she not? Especially if what he has planned is more of this exploration and pleasure.

*  *  *

Ooo, that is exciting; she's as willing as he is. Harold keeps the taunting grin as he leans in to give Carver one more slow, passionate kiss before whispering to her, "Lie back on the bed... and close your eyes." She nods, slowly lying down onto the bed with an interested but expectant look.

He slowly moves himself over her, stealing a moment to take in the sight of her body while finding the right position. Even now part of his mind is still boggled about this happening to him, especially when she looks so... yearning for his touch. Alright, this is an easy one, just do it nice and slow so she doesn't get freaked out by a strange sound. Aaaaand there they are... okay, just grab some bottles and give it a try.

She feels his light touch again against her skin, picking out the spots that bring out the strongest reactions while still looking for more and more places to excite her. At first, it's pleasurable but much like what they were doing before... then she feels another cool touch explore her body, far from the other two... and then another; four little points of cool pleasure searching every square inch of her body as he leans in to begin their chase anew.

*  *  *

Carver's eyes snap open, expecting to see someone else in the room. Instead, she sees a four-armed Harry fondling her. For one second, her WASP upbringing is screaming about how wrong this is, but another, louder part of her starts to purr about how wonderful it is.

Her hands begin to move over him, trying to make him feel as good, but she was at a severe disadvantage. "Hey, Harry, I guess you could say I'm handi-capped," she puns suddenly, groaning at her own joke.

She only wishes that she could sprout some arms so that she could return the favor. As his hands stoke her, Carver sighs, "My god, you are good. What other tricks do you have?"

*  *  *

Thank God, she does like it... who knows how he's keeping all four hands moving so well, but she sure is enjoying it. Hands long warmed by Carver's writhing body, Harold gives her the same taunting smile and pulls her hips a little closer with one hand while the others stroke up her thigh, brush past an erect nipple on its fifth circuit of her body, and reach up to tenderly rub the base of her neck, "Only limited by my imagination, remember? I can add parts, take them away, and change them completely... I can do other people or even gods..."

All four of his hands find just the right spots for an instant, "Maybe it's my turn to fulfill a fantasy of yours..."

*  *  *

"Oh, god, oh my god, Harry," she gasps; that wasn't quite an orgasm, but it was close. If he did that a few more times...

"A fantasy?" she thinks as she strokes him with both hands. "Well... let me think." Her mind roves over what she's seen Harry do, and a memory surfaces.

"Harry, do you remember - oh, yeah, there - when we went to the club?" she gasps. When he murmurs an affirmative, Carver tentatively asks, "That indigo thing... that you used to get us on the roof? Could you do that for me?"

*  *  *

Interesting, he didn't expect that... Harold smiles affirmatively, "Sure, I can do that for you." His hands give Carver one last touch, rub, and squeeze and he slowly pulls back his arms while she shudders from the feel of his touch. Hmm, this ought to be interesting...

Arms roll inward as silent wings sprout outward, pale skin turns indigo, and silence practically cloaks around Mythic. No, it's too bright in here, where's, ahhh, there's the light. The lamp switches off leaving the room lit only the ambient light of the city filtering through the shades.

Yes, this is just right... and he has her, a very hungry her... He knows she's not his mate in reality, but that little urge to take her is satisfied with her presence. Practically invisible in the darkness, he leans down to Carver's ear, his tip just nudging her with out entering, and his voice is nothing more than a whisper, "There are so many things I will do for you."

*  *  *

Carver's breathing quickens as she reaches up and strokes the beautiful, dark face. There's enough light that her night vision doesn't pop up and she's glad - she'd hate to bath this special moment in dull green vision. It feels like Harry's skin, but different too - smoother.

But the feel of him gently pushing at her is unfamiliar, and Carver curls up slightly. She reaches her hands down and strokes the familiar yet unknown part of him. It's noticeably bigger and Carver gulps in both fear and anticipation.

Having satisfied her curiosity, Carver lies back and whispers, "Then shouldn't you get started?" Her voice is calm, but there is an edge to her voice - eager anticipation mixes with hot desire.

*  *  *

The smallest of smiles spreads on Mythic's indigo face, "Who says I haven't?" She wants him and she's ready... but he wants to entice her first, for her to need him. Silent but dexterous hands deftly spring to life on her body, putting their mutual research to maximum affect, as he leans in to search for that spot on her neck.

Hips slowly slide forward and upward, sliding him between her lips and up to her apex - he really needs to look up the word for that - taunting her with his length. Mythic can feel Carver quiver and start to explore this new body herself, subtly urging him on. Just a little bit longer...

Soon, her breath has hastened and her hips continuously tilt to invite him in as he still only rubs up against her. Mythic can hear the real desire tremor within Carver's whisper in his ear, "I thought you were going to start?" Now it's time. Without a word, he shifts his hips again and slowly presses into her, making sure she can handle every bit of him.

*  *  *

The slow invasion is a sweet torture and he has his arms around her, holding her down. Carver's back bows, coming off the bed as she thrusts her breasts at him. That wasn't her intention, but her body had to do something when facing this physical onslaught.

"Harry," she whimpers, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. "Oh my god, this is... God!"

She leverages herself up and kisses him, but what he's doing to her doesn't give her much brain power to respond to him. She's never felt anything so large; she would try to tighten herself around him, but she doesn't think that there's room to spare.

The first withdrawal is slow and is more sweet torture. Carver can temporarily breathe again, but he starts to push into her again and she writhes as he fills her up. Her back bows again and Harry is once again offered her breasts, which are trembling from her exertions. When he releases her from his thrust, she collapses.

God, she wants more of him, even when he’s built like this. She widens her legs further, nearly doing the splits to allow him deeper access into her. “More,” she whispers breathily, pleading. “Give me more of you. Please, more, more. Fill me.”

*  *  *

The words simply drive Mythic on, his silent but pleasurable ministrations his only reply. Must remember this form for later - even if there's never a later. He was worried the form might hurt Carver but it's done quite the opposite. Oh yes, definitely must remember.

Mythic presses back into Carver again a little faster than before, leaning his head down to reach her perfect breasts being offered to him as she begs for more. He slowly develops a rhythm with her, each time thrusting a little faster and a little deeper, each penetration meant not only to drive her mad with pleasure but to help her take more and more of him.

Gradually, their bodies grind closer and closer together with slowly building speed. Yes, she is very much a perfect mate, so willing, so wanting, so exquisite... don't think about that. She's a goddess come to life and she's his tonight, but only tonight. By the time striped and indigo hair press together rhythmically, Mythic's hands and lips are continuously reveling Carver's breasts and her pleas have turned into wordless whimpers of pleasure as his every thrust fully satisfies her desires.

*  *  *

He is touching her in places that she's never been touched, reaching deep into the core of her. She's never been this full, this completed. The lines of sensation blur; she's no longer sure where she ends or where he begins, and the universe flows through them both.

He is moving ever harder, ever faster, pushing her out of her own body. In the darkness of the room, Carver sees white lights, flashing and sparkling. "Stars..." she whispers; another thrust cuts off any further words. She reaches out a hand and starts to float among them-

The orgasm slams her back into her body, replacing the languid pleasure with hot ecstasy. Carver wants to scream, but her body is far too invested in other actions to allow that. Instead, she can only make short, desperate gasps as she shudders.

My god, she can feel every inch of him as she spasms and seizes around him. He’s in her so tightly that there is no room for error; in those long shuddering quakes, she learns every inch of Harry in this form.

When her orgasm releases her, Carver falls back, panting, but he’s not done yet. His thrusts are becoming more frenzied, and Carver realizes that he won’t be long. Making sure her legs are as wide as she can make them, Carver locks her hands around his hips and begins to coax him to go deeper. She wants him buried to the hilt when he comes; she wants to feel his release in the deepest core of her.

*  *  *

Primal desire fills him, drives him as she gasps beneath him. Her slight body feels like hot fire against his indigo skin and every one of her curves fuels him even more. And the feeling of Carver wrapped around him maddens Mythic even more, feeling her strained to her limits and yet still craving more and more of him.

Take her, keep her; she's an exquisite mate, perfectly shaped, more than willing, and so capable of giving and accepting pleasure. Before Mythic can chide his own instincts, Carver's sudden orgasm and tremors seize his body and mind and banish all hope of rational thought. He wants more of her, all of her, and the sensation of her quivering around his length pushes him closer to the breaking point.

The touch of her hands and her pulls for more launch him far past any level he's been before. She wants all of him and he's more than eager to give it. His hands slip down to her hips as well, pulling her further and further onto him as he thrusts faster and deeper into her. She's so tight yet so accepting, clenched around him but still hungry for more and more, until finally he can hold it off no more.

He thrust hard into her one last time and both of them pulling their bodies together with all of their strength. Fingers twitch and silent wings shudder as he freezes in climax, pressed deeper inside of her than he ever thought possible, and what's left of his mind wonders screams in ecstasy in the overwhelming sensation. Moments later, his body slowly starts to relax and creep down to press next to her, the silent wings slowly spreading out like a blanket over them both as he still remains nestled deep inside of her.

*  *  *

Carver moans as the first shudder passes through him; she can feel him all the way inside of her. His fingers hold her tight - if she had been a baseline, he'd have hurt her, but then, the same thing for him. Harry's not moving his body any longer, but he's still in motion, pouring himself into her. The tight fit combined with the depth of his final stroke and the feel of him releasing himself have driven her half to orgasm again.

But he's coming down, and Carver catches him, moving her hands so that she can cradle him to her. Her legs wrap around his waist, careful to not disrupt their connection; his dark feathers tickle her legs. One arm snugs his head to her shoulder; the other curls around his torso, holding him gently.

After a long moment, Carver begins to run gentle fingers over his feathers, enjoying the contrast between the soft, downy feathers and the stiffer pinons. He's been so quiet, and Carver finally has to ask, "You ok, Harry?"

*  *  *

That now familiar feeling of fatigue and refreshment is settling into him again, making every inch of his body feel like its glowing. Mythic nuzzles a bit into Carver's shoulder, basking in her presence and affection. This is what life should be, everyone should have a chance at this, even for an instant.

It's quiet, dark, and she's wrapped up with him... those instincts contently hum in the back of his mind, apparently satisfied with the fiction of this night, but he keeps them settled away. Were he not so familiar with all of the intimacy or not so distracted by other things he would've started wondering when he learned to shove the instinct away. Especially one that strong.

Wrong? That small smile appears again on Mythic's face as he slowly works a hand up to slip into Carver's hair. "Just enjoying the moment," he whispers with warm breath against her cooling skin, "Something about it seemed just right."
 

*  *  *

"Mmm," Carver drowsily replies to his statement. "Feathers warm..." And they were. Combined with the indigo skin and the other benefits of this form, Carver could tell it would be a fan favorite.

Fan favorite? Am I a fan? Obviously not; not here wrapped in his arms with their bodies slowly cooling down. So would that be Carver favorite?

Careful. That sobers her, and Carver switches her mental topic, pushing away any thoughts other than tonight. After all, this was her night of comfort; it had, in her mind, become his night too, given the milestone he'd just passed.

Oddly enough, all the fan fictions that she had found about him had never hinted that he was a virgin. Hell, no guy is a virgin after sixteen anymore, or at least that's what everyone believes. Even geeks find a geekette.

Idly, she is reminded of a fiction where she and Mythic "practice" shapeshifting. In some ways, it hadn't been far from the truth, though it had him being much more clumsy than he was in reality. I wonder what those kids would make of him now? She chuckles suddenly and says aloud, "You'd better not let any of those crazy fan fiction writers find out about this form - it will just inspire them to write some really crazy stuff." She runs her fingernails lightly up his back, wondering if he likes that. As she does, she shyly admits, "It inspires me."

*  *  *

Mythic's wings silently twitch as Carver's nails trace his spine and a quiet chuckle escapes his lips. Ooo that does feel good... The wings pull in a bit closer, sheltering them in what must look like a pool of darkness on her bed.

Writers? Hmm, intriguing. He lifts head up to look at her with a playful face, that small smile and whisper-like voice still present, "Inspires how? Tell me about it."

*  *  *

"Well," Carver says, running a hand over his cheek, "it makes me want to see what else you can do with this body. It makes me want to hook my feet over your shoulders and see if we could repeat what we just did from a different. It also makes me want to see how different going down on you would be like this."

Her hands slide down his back again and her fingernails scrape enticingly over his butt. "Actually, Harry, all of your little surprises inspire me to seal us in a room for hours to play."

*  *  *

She wants more... his body stirs and his heart jumps. Oh yes, she is a fine choice indeed. Such smooth skin, eager attitude, exquisite curves, and beautiful mind... just think about tonight. Tonight he can satisfy those urges, be her lover, and be her mate.

Now... hours of play... yes, there is more he can do like this and in other forms too. That thought alone is almost enough snap him fully to attention. Mythic slowly starts to trace one of Carver's cheekbones with his nose and he carefully shifts his body so their slick bodies rub together, relishing the feeling of her bare skin against his, "Hooking feet, going down, even from behind again, I like trying and learning new things." She feels a quick touch of hot air against her cheek, the only sign he let out a little chuckle, "And just name the time and location of the room and I'll be there before you know it."