Wings of Desire

I caught two fat pink-fleshed fish, heavy with their spring eggs and left them beside him to go and find other treats that might tempt him. I knew that humans, like harpies, enjoy sweet things, and so I gathered as many little branches of alpine strawberries and cloudberries I could find.

When I returned he was awake. He was staring at the fish and started when I landed near him. I dropped the fruits from my mouth beside him and he stared at those, too. He seemed dazed from the effects of the aphrodisiac and our energetic mating, so I gave him space. I went and drank from the rivulet and then lay down on my side on my sunning-rock and watched him.

After a while he tried the fruit and then ravenously devoured them. The fish he played with for a while, but in the end those too he ate, although he seemed to have trouble with the bones. I watched amused as he picked them out and like a child left them with the heads and eggs untouched on the grass beside him.

When he was finished I stood up and stretched luxuriantly. Pleasure filled me. I gazed upon the human who was now looking at me and felt warmth in my chest. I had enjoyed our mating and was already looking forward to the next time.

Self-conscious, I preened my wings and stretched again. I glanced sideways at the human. He was still watching. What was he thinking? Did he find me attractive, I wondered? Humans and harpies are not so dissimilar, after all. I pushed out my breasts, proud of their haughty firmness. They were more than ample to nurse a child and I wanted to show them off to him.

He turned away then. Another blush? I covered my body with my wings and turned away, my heart playful. Wasn't this what a human girl would do, cover herself? Humans are so fearful of nudity! Their naked vulnerable skin makes them so.

I wanted very much to feel that soft, naked skin against mine again. My face grew hot and my joints melted. Wait, could it be that must had already returned to me? It was gentler now, not so demanding. And yet I very much wanted to mate again.

I hopped closer to the human, wondering if he might also wish to mate. He lay there, watching me. His eyes were wide, but lacked the panic I had seen in them before. I came closer. He had abandoned the fish's heads and their glistening eggs, so I scooped up the delicious morsels and ate them, the heads crunching and the eggs popping with a delectable creamy saltiness.

Still he made no move. And so I sidled up beside him. I nuzzled his chest, dislodging some of the ferns covering it. He placed his hands over his skin to prevent my touching it. I nudged his arms without force, playful, before moving lower. He tried to push my head away but I had become too excited to play along now. I licked at the skin of his stomach, wishing to taste him. Saltiness greeted my tongue, more delicious still than the saltiness of the fish eggs, and I wished to lick him more, but he scrambled away from under me.

I darted forward, licked along his ribs and he began to laugh. It was a nervous sound, an explosion of ticklishness. I sat back on the grass and laughed too, amused by his consternation.

The game was over. I wanted very much wished to mount him again but I did not wish to spoil the gentleness of that moment and the closeness we had enjoyed. I was growing sentimental, just as I had feared. I watched him as he drank some of the water and then waded into the pool to wash. His naked body intrigued me. Humans looks so similar to us in so many ways, and yet the differences are impossible to ignore. So naked without feathers, like they've been plucked clean! And no wings, the soft little extremities of their limbs so fragile and yet so agile. His 'hands' had felt nice as they had tried to push me away. I wondered if they would be good at caressing me as well. I wanted to know how it would feel, those soft and agile little hands running across my skin and stroking my feathers.

He slid out of the water. I moved away from my sunning rock to allow him to use it. As he lay there drying I wondered at my next move. Ferns would do little for my human when the sun was gone. I had destroyed his hides in my eagerness for mating and he would require more. And yet I could not leave him here. I knew that one of my sisters might see him and try and take him from me. I hopped over to him and tried to explain what I wished him to do.

With much headshaking and sweeping of wings I communicated very little, but just the effort seemed to calm him. I hopped over and pressed myself against him. He moved away but I followed, bumping my chest and belly against him. Perhaps he thought I was trying to initiate mating again, but soon he came to understand what I wanted. He tentatively placed his arms around me and held on. My breasts squeezed up against his chest and he went red as his grip went slack. I shook my head, frowning at him. He must not relax his grip!

When he was holding on tight enough, I spread my wings and in short half-glides I returned him to the ledge of our home. He stood there beside me on the ledge, making no move to go inside and I shook my head again. I pointed a wing at the sky and glared at him. He must be careful not to be seen by my sisters!

He understood and retreated inside. I flew off then back towards human habitation. I avoided the area I had stolen him and flew instead to the series of little habitations that follow the great sinuous river leading to the far off waiting ocean. The ocean is a magical place for us, always glittering on the border of a harpy's vision as she flies over the mountains, and seeing it today made my heart happier still.

I stole hides that humans had left hanging outside to dry. I gripped them in my talons and tore them from the lines. No humans saw me. Then I returned to my eyrie. The human was still there, exploring the little cave. He had draped some of his torn hides around himself to defend against the cold and he looked so pitiable I desired to rush to him and sweep him my wing around him. Instead, I called to him and indicated with a wingtip the clothes I'd left on the ledge.

He was surprised to see the clothes, but my gift pleased him. He smiled as he sorted through them. Some were of course the wrong size and he discarded these, but he discarded too some others which seemed just right for him. Perhaps the shape or colour of the clothes displeased him. Luckily, there were several sets of hides he liked enough to keep and he soon wrapped himself well.

Happy, I returned to my nest. I beckoned to him with a wing to join me, but he shook his head: no. I sighed. I should not have expected too much too soon. I put my head under my wing and dozed.

When I woke I saw the human in the corner busy with his hands. He was clashing two stones together. Little sparks flew out. I knew what he was trying to do. Fire! The thing humans adore more than any other, their beloved god and their fickle slave. I cried out at him and climbed out of the nest. Alarmed, he dropped the stones and I hopped over and kicked them away. I shook my head at him, no. No! Fire was too dangerous!

The human sulked then, retreating to the far end of the cave where he hugged his arms around himself. Perhaps I had been too harsh. He was no doubt still feeling cold. My warm feathers and comfortable nest beckoned to him, but his heart was still hardened towards me. I wish I had been able to resist must for longer than I had.

I hopped over to him, making conciliatory noises. He turned away but I insisted, nuzzling up against him. At last he relented and followed me. On the ledge he hugged himself to me and this time I glided downwards to a secluded little nook in the mountainside where old, dead trees still clung to the rock. It was out of the way of the wind and it would be a perfect place for a fire. The smoke would not travel up to annoy my eyrie or alert any of my sisters. I left him there and went to collect his rocks.

When I returned the look on his face was one of joy. He was happy to see me! Perhaps he had thought I had tired of him and was going to abandon him here. I dropped the rocks from my talons and nuzzled at his face. He was so happy he tolerated it this time, even when I licked at his ear. The smell of his hair and skin was delicious and I remembered our mating again. Warmth flooded me and I moved away. I left him there to play with his beloved fire and went off to hunt. Perhaps with fire he could eat the sweet rabbits I so prefer to all other prey.

I returned with two fresh-killed in my talons. He had already started his fire using some dry wood and I left the rabbits beside him and perched on the largest of the trees jutting from the bare cliff. It was strong enough to support my weight.

I watched him cook. It seemed a shame to burn such tasty morsels, but humans are not harpies, after all. He used a slice of rock to strip the hides from them and removed the tasty, bitter guts then stuck a long stick through what was left and held it over the fire. Humans were so picky. But I appreciated the agility of his hands as they went to and fro. They were definitely cute, those fragile, fluttery things.

He ate the rabbits voraciously, tearing the flesh with his teeth. Humans must soften their food with cooking since their teeth are soft and blunt like a chick's. He clearly enjoyed the rabbits and I was pleased. Perhaps his heart would not be so hard towards me now.

When he was finished I let him explore the little nook, but he seemed disappointed when he found that it was as isolated as my eyrie was: a great drop down a ravine below and sheer rock-face above. Soon he grew bored and I joined him. I bumped up against him and he threw his arms around me. I murmured with pleasure at his touch. He was not strong, but the way his arms enveloped me, his hands flat and warm against my back, made me happy.

That night I beckoned again to him with an outstretched wing and this time he came to the nest. He was hesitant as he climbed in and stiffened when I swept him close against me, but he made no attempt to leave my side. I leaned down and sniffed at the hides covering his shoulders, checking his wounds. They smelled clean, no hint of the sweetness of infection. I wished to cleanse them again with my tongue, but decided it would be too hard to communicate my desire to him. Removing his hides against his will might damage them and he would likely think I was trying to force him to mate again.

I woke. The moon was spilling her light into the cave, but it was not that which had woken me. I felt the quills of my feathers tingling and a flowing below my waist. My skin was hot.

Must had returned.

The human was asleep. I nuzzled at him with my nose, pressed my lips against his skin. I had seen humans do it before and I thought perhaps it would wake him. It did. His eyes opened straight onto mine. They expressed no surprise this time. I snuggled closer to him, pressed my breasts against his chest, my wings shivering. I began to pant.

The human understood. He reached down and took off the lower part of his hides. He looked away from me as he took off the soft layer closest to his skin. His member was very hard and I had not even fed him my saliva yet!

The sight of that spontaneous rigidness delighted me and I pressed my lips again and again against his. He made no move to press his back and although I wished it I had not expected him to. Instead he lay back, offering himself to me.

I wasted no time in mounting him. I was careful not to press down upon him as heavily as I had the first time we had mated. I brought my sex against his hardness, wondering at how swollen and slick I was. I rubbed against him and he opened his mouth and emitted a little yelp of pleasure. I grinned and mimicked the sound. I rubbed again and this time he bit his lip with his fragile little teeth to stop making the same sound again. Perhaps I had shamed him.

I leaned down over him, blanketing his body with my wings. He turned his head away so that he would not be looking into my eyes. Playful, I licked his neck. I slid my tongue across his cheek and onto his mouth. After a moment of shutting his lips tight he relented and I dipped my tongue inside his mouth.

This time, with the must not so strong, my salvia was far less copious. Some still spilled from our joined mouths but he was able to breathe. He lay there and did not struggle. At times his own tongue moved against mine and I cooed in delight.

His body grew hot beneath me. The saliva had done its work. His member grew even harder. I waited no longer and slid it deep into me. I took the mating slowly this time, relishing it. The human did not struggle like before. He tried to remain still, as though my ministrations were doing nothing to him, but his cries betrayed him. I knew that he too was feeling pleasure, no matter how he tried to hide it. With his body betraying him, I quickly learned what he enjoyed: how he liked it when I let his hardness slip almost free from my body before I swiftly pushed myself back down onto it; how grinding my hips forward so that our bellies were against each other elicited the loudest cries from him. It was not long before he attained his pleasure, his semen spilling into me, but he remained hard and so I continued, taking my own selfish delight. When I felt his seed spurting up into me a second time I reached my own peak of pleasure and my joyous unashamed voice filled the little cave.

We fell asleep together, my legs locked around his, my wings cradling him, his member softening inside me.

---------

As the days passed I noticed that although the must had lightened, it did not disappear. We mated every night and some mornings as well. Always the human lay there, his eyes closed tight, his face turned away. I made it a game to tease him, to make him move his hips, to show me that he enjoyed our mating. He tried his best not to, but I always won. Either he would cry out or his face would go red or his hips would move on their own to thrust his hardness up into me. When we were finished he would sleep, or feign it. Often I would lie beside him, my wings cradling him like a chick, cooing to him as I drew my lips across the back of his neck. Just once I wanted him to press his lips against mine as I had seen humans do.

Our days together followed a routine: I would leave him in the upper meadows to bathe or catch fish when I went hunting. Afterwards, I would take him down to the little sheltered ledge where he could worship his fire. Nights we spent together in my nest. Often I caught him looking out across the landscape in the direction of his previous home. I wondered if he was thinking of her, the human female I had stolen him from. The thought brought a shadow down upon my heart.

Whenever I was apart from him I would grow sad and lonely. It was as if I was undergoing an emotional must, one that could only be relieved by his presence. Such thoughts shamed me, and yet the pleasure of reuniting was so sweet I did not begrudge the bitterness.

Wishing to make him happy, I brought him things that I stole from humans down in the valley. I brought him short lengths of rope, just enough that he could climb down to his fire-nook or up to the alpine meadow. With the extra freedom he grew happier.

My favourite moments were spent together with the human in the pool up in the meadow. I would dive and splash and preen my wings while he waded in the shallows. He had grown used to me and was no longer ashamed of his nakedness like before. He would often lie on the grass and watch me. I caught him doing it many times, and I felt the flush of joy at his eyes upon me. I would always be careful to show my body at its best, stretching up out of the pool so that the water sluiced from my breasts, lying out across my sunning rock on my belly with the curve of my hips and my round buttocks and shimmering feathers on display.

Our mating, too, grew more intimate. He no longer looked away but watched me as I took my pleasure with him. One morning as I rolled my hips against his he reached up to my chest. I thought he had tired of mating and was meaning to push me off, but when his hands cupped my breasts and covered my nipples I gasped both in pleasure and surprise at his gentle touch. From then on he would often play with my breasts as we mated, and the nimbleness of his fingers never failed to quicken the rushing onset of my pleasure.

Then one glistening day we were together in the pool. As usual, he was lying on the grass and staring up at the sky, a ritual that seemed to relax him. I was hunting fish in the pool, dipping my head in and out of the water, trying to find one that would please him for his lunch. I found a particularly fat fish, its belly heavy with eggs, and pursued it. I grasped its tail in my mouth and pulled it out of the water but the fish jerked free and landed on the human's stomach. He yelped and tried to catch the fish as it went skittering across the grass, its whipping tail glittering. I joined him and together we strove to catch it. The fish slipped from the human's grasping hands and my talons proved too slow and clumsy. At last the fish flipped itself back into the pool with a final desperate jerk of its tail. The human and I fell back on the grass, panting and laughing. As we lay there together he drew closer to me. I stared at him. Perhaps he was cold and desirous of the warmth of my feathers? But the sunshine was already so warm.

He leaned over and brought his lips against mine. My heart surged hot in my chest and I pressed my lips back. His tongue slipped out and licked my mouth playfully. I caught it and then we performed that human ritual called kissing.

My heart raced. There was still must within me - it had never fully left me, an unheard-of mystery. Usually a few days after mating the must will leave a harpy and then she quickly tires of her human, returning him to his fellows so that she may reclaim her nest for herself and prepare for her clutch. Harpies, after all, are solitary creatures by nature. And yet I had no desire for him to leave me and craved his presence whenever I was apart from him. At first I had thought it was because he had not yet impregnated me. But I knew now that was not the case. For some days I had noticed the swelling of my belly, the increasing heaviness of my breasts. It would not be long, I knew. I felt the hardness of the new life inside me.

As we kissed he wrapped his arms around me, as often we did when I flew him down to the little ledge. He wished to be close to me? The thought brought happy coos to my throat as his lips slipped from mine to dance across the curve of my neck.

That was the first time he initiated mating. His hands slid across my body and I squirmed and panted at their softness and the tenderness of his touch. He climbed on top of me, covering me, his mouth seeking out my breasts just as a chick would. My nipples hardened under his tongue and my panting grew deeper. I felt myself flooding, heat coursing within my bones. I moved to sit up, to roll him on his back and mount him, but he shook his head no. He knelt then and drew my thighs apart, exposing my swollen sex. He pulled his lower hides off in a frenzy and then lay back on top of me, his hardness stabbing straight into me. I cried out. He had pierced me deep, at an angle I had never felt before. So this was how humans mate? It was certainly appropriate for a race whose females are so lazy.

I lay there, my talons curling with exquisite delight at each desperate lunge of his body. I, too, desired him to go deeper and I swept my wings about his back, pulling him closer. His thrusts grew shorter, faster, his belly lying flat against mine, and he kissed me again, deeply, swallowing our mingled cries of ecstasy as he pumped his boiling semen into me.