“”Happy Birthday, dear Gale – Happy Birthday to youuuuu.”
Nightingale, her pale skin a shade of bright red, inhaled deeply and blew out the candles on the tightly packed collection of muffins. Everyone inside the bus cheered. Aclysia waited until the applause ebbed away, then she began the work of pulling the candles out of the muffins. The first one, she placed in Nightingale’s talon. The piece of bakeware was firm and appropriately sized for harpy consumption.
“That was terrible,” the harpy chided all of them with a smile on her face. “Moving, trendously, and the worst two minutes of my life.”
“No one ever said that a birthday should be fun,” the Gar responded and grabbed his own muffin. There was a great selection of them. He ended up with dark chocolate and cherry, one of the greatest flavour combinations known to man. Not that the vanilla-blueberry, the simple sweet, or the stracciatella muffins were of any less value.
Nightingale, and everyone else, was too busy munching for a little bit to follow that up. A voracious quiet fell over the room, only interrupted by the muffled tones of whoever tried to speak despite the presence of muffin or flavoured tal. “To turn 31 is not an event of jubilation.”
“Any goals in your senior years?” Lee asked cheekily.
“Disciplining disrespectful fledgelings,” Nightingale shot back imdiately. That got chuckles out of the gathered harettes. Seriously, the harpy continued, “I want to be pregnant by 33.”
That changed the air in the room in the usual way. Whenever the topic of children ca up, the wave caused by the ntion went a bit higher. The bristling energy was held back by the universal understanding that a part of John’s recent ntal issues was that he was denying himself fatherhood to wait for a better ti.
John paused to observe himself for his reaction. Any emotional distress? Any rebellion of his mind against him not wanting to oblige her imdiately? Nothing of the like. There was the expected excitent at the prospect of pinning her down in a mating press and give that sexual position the honour it was due. On its own, that was a non-worriso emotion.
“Why by 33?” The Gar’s tone was casual, leading to shedding of the strain and barriers. “You’re a goddess, you don’t have a ticking clock.”
“I was not always and an oath made I keep.” Nightingale leaned back, flirting with him by putting her body on display. 31 years reflected on her wrinkleless face in a variety of small ways that gave her an aura of maturity. Yet, her body was no less nubile than that of a mid-twenty bombshell. The lunar marks on her white skin directed his eyes up and down her curves. “To have at least 3 children, I require to start soon. Besides, my ti may be unlimited, but my parents deserve to see their grandchildren.”
“Which reminds that we are due for a video call soon,” the Gar said. It was not every day that John got to et the parents of any of his harettes, mostly because a bunch of them had a lack of them. Those parents that were around often had a complicated relationship with their daughters and John’s harem situation.
Two that had truly intense familial problems were Eliana and Lydia. Rave was a distant third. Estranged mother was a difficult situation, but it really could not be compared to dostic abuse or the ss Lydia’s background was. Reagan, her father, had made his own set of mistakes, certainly. He had also given her as much love and attention as he could. It wasn’t all terrible for her.
Lee and her parents had so difficulties. Nothing that could not be bridged or summarized under the terms of standard generation conflict. Lorelei had a good relationship with her parents. Sa went for Scarlett, even if both had died several years ago. Honestly, if Lee was given 12 more years, her and Nightingale’s situation would likely look the sa.
John was happy to say that his harem may have consisted of a selection of uniquely minded individuals but none had the motivation to get with him only to annoy their fathers.
“Should I put on my suit or sothing casual?” the Gar asked and gestured to the rest of the naked harem to expand the question to what they should be wearing.
Nightingale tilted her head in confusion. “It did escape that humans are not as comfortable with nudity,” she confessed. “Between harpies and their parents, there is no sha.”
Salamander raised an eyebrow. “Is that limited to nudity or do you fuck in front of your children too?”
“Not in front of minors,” Nightingale specified. “We share the modern conviction that a child’s innocence is to be protected. Beyond that point, there is no sha. My father is of the sa opinion.”
“So there is a chance the first thing I see of your parents is your mom sucking your dad off?” the Gar asked, shifting around uncomfortably. He had gotten ‘better’ when it ca to the whole ‘having sex around friends and family’ thing. He neither was nor aspired to entirely be totally fine with such things. He liked having so barriers to his debauchery.
“I suppose. You need not wear clothes, was the sole point I was making.”
“Yeah, no, I think I will,” the Gar decided. A simple black t-shirt and jeans quickly covered him. Many harettes decided to follow his example, quickly putting on or conjuring their clothes. The exceptions were tra, Nathalia, Eliana, Rave, and Nightingale herself.
The set-up inside the living room of their expanded bus space was similar to the one at ho. A large, U-shaped couch (lowercase c, in this case), open towards a big flat screen TV. All of it was controlled via a laptop. No one had a hand on the device, Scarlett was doing it all ntally. The video call started as suddenly and awkwardly as these things usually did.
John saw four people on the other end, all of them stark naked. The set-up Nightingale’s parents had put together was visually stunning. They were sitting on a leather couch located within a veranda. Behind them was a beautiful display of a Sicilian beach. Her parents had been doing well with her daughter’s fa and gotten a beautiful property, from what John heard.
There was one man and three won. John’s eyes were first drawn to Nightingale’s mother. Similarities with her daughter were obvious. She had that sa set of petite breasts, narrow waist and balanced hips. Her skin, however, was heavily tanned from the long ti in Italy, her brown hair and feathers lighter from the sun. Age was apparent all around, but for a mid-fifty woman she certainly maintained herself well.
John could not help himself and looked at the two other won first. Where Nightingale’s mother occupied her father’s left side, the second woman John looked at was attached to his right. It gave off the sa dynamic as Rave and Aclysia did, when they took their spots. It stood to reason that the second woman he looked at was therefore Nightingale’s father’s first wife. She was short, buxom female, as close as a human could get to being a shortstack without having a dical condition or a magical effect on them. She had long, almost white hair, whether that was from age or the sun was debatable. Her big breasts drooped further than John preferred, but they were firm in her age.
The third woman sat on the floor. It felt like she was the Eliana of the set, with a collar around her neck and a big grin on her face. She was younger than the other two, which still put her in her forties. Brown hair, moderately sized curves, average height, she was visually moderate. Attractive, yes, but just not in a stunning way.
Finally, John looked at the father of his latest harette. A late fifties, awe-inspiringly buff man. He had a full head of blond hair that he wore long and luscious. He had hard, green eyes. His skin was heavily tanned and wrinkled, but the muscles underneath stretched most of it out. There was the kind of high-status energy radiating from him that convinced John the property they were on was not entirely owed to Nightingale’s riches, nor was it a fluke that he was the one with a harem.
John established eye contact with the man. As much eye contact as one could have across the sea of latency. Sothing clicked imdiately. “Elek,” he introduced himself.
“John,” the Gar responded, swiftly and sternly.
Elek bowed forwards. His eyes mustered the Gar through the screen. He stayed relaxed and waited. Finally, he nodded. “I hear a lot about you, but you look like you can back up most of it.”
“I can back up all of the good things,” the Gar assured and leaned back. While maintaining eye contact, he put his arm around Nightingale and pulled her against his chest. “Your daughter is in perfect hands.”
Elek nodded, with gravitas and certainty. “I believe you. How unusual.”
This was the first ti John felt it with such intensity: soone who completely shared his lifestyle. Maximillian had been treating his harem more as an assortnt of fuck-buddies and how exactly his new one would be shaping up was up for debate. Romulus only seed to maintain his relationship with Sol and Luna in perpetuity. While Elek only had one more woman, everything about the way he carried himself was similar to how John hoped he was seen.
Minus the casual nudity during a family call.
“You’re doing well,” Nightingale cooed in his ear. A wing settled on his chest. Had she had hands, she would have started unbuttoning his shirt that instant.
“I have so experience,” he whispered back.
“It’s so good to see you, Yolande,” the harpy on the screen spoke up. “Are you eating well?”
Nightingale just chuckled. There were so things only parents were allowed to get away with. One of them was to use a discarded na. “Mother, I am a goddess now. I can go weeks without eating.”
“Okay, but are you eating well?” she asked. Before her daughter could respond, the brown-feathered harpy shook her head. “Oh, how silly of . First, happy birthday, my little nightingale.”
‘Is that where the na ca from?’ John wondered and received his answer in the form of his lady of the night blushing.
“Thank you, Mother. If you would like to introduce yourself to my flock?”
“Of course, I am Elana, this is my matriarch Calliope,” the short woman to the right of Elek waved, “and this here is our maid Leona.”
“’Sup?” the submissive on the floor asked.
It really was nice to see soone older enjoying the harem life. Odd as well. John could deal with that oddity. “Alright, introduce to all of your roost. Which one of them is responsible for your cooking?”
“Aclysia, primarily,” Nightingale pointed at the weaponized maid with one of her talons. “Yes, Mother, I am eating well. Exceptionally well. Now, this here is my matriarch, Rave.”
The Lightbearer waved from her position on John’s right side. “Y’ello! Not gonna lie, the whole matriarch thing is weird to . Don’t really feel like the superior of a woman ten years my senior. Oh, also, Jane is fine.”
“Harpies often are subordinate to won their juniors. Matriarch is a position of respect and seniority within the harem, not of age. I hope Yolande knows her manners well and compensates you for sharing your man?”
“Wonderfully,” Rave purred. “Let’s not get stuck on though, ya can see there’s a lot of introducing to do.” A long, waving gesture emphasized the entire rest of the harem sprawled out around them.
It took almost an hour to get through the process of Nightingale introducing every last harette to her parents. At one point through the process, Elek got sucked off by Leona. It happened so casually, nobody would have thought anything off was happening. John still found it odd and did his best to ignore that happenstance.
After the introductions, they chatted for a little bit. The usual questions ca up: when are the grandkids coming? Why did John have that weird arrangent about wedding Rave and impregnating Eliana? Was everything going on nicely? How was the weather? More unusual questions also ca up. The weirdest one was Elena outright asking her daughter if she was getting sexually satisfied. Nightingale went on a whole retelling of how her first ti had gone. Endless praise for his virility was nice to hear, but between mother and daughter, it just was so weird.
“Ah, just seems like yesterday that our Yolande was stumbling around the house,” Calliope sighed nostalgically. Then she snickered, hiding her smile behind a raised hand. “And then like a few hours ago that she had her feather bleaching phase.”
“Anolia!” Nightingale cried out. Even a thirty-year-old was not weathered against the embarrassnt parents could bring. Anolia was a word from harpy culture that described a permanent partner of her father other than her mother. It was a word John would eventually teach his own children.
Beatrice visibly perked up, “Investigation: feather bleaching phase?”
Nightingale quietly shook her head towards her parents. Elana looked to her patriarch, Elek nodded at his primary harette, Calliope grinned. “Oh, our dear Yolande was so unhappy having normal brown feathers when she left for her singing career. She bleached her feathers and they got such a pretty pink colour.”
“How would you even do that?” the Gar asked. The logistics of bleaching feathers were a mystery to him.
“By begging for a lot of money,” Elek provided the long and short of it in an amused tone.
Elana raised one hand in front of her mouth and giggled. “Ah, that was interesting. Calli is doing the sa thing, for what it is worth – That is my youngest, not shorthand for my matriarch.”
“Nightingale doesn’t talk a lot about her siblings,” John said. “How many does she have again? Eight?”
“Yes,” Elek confird. “Happy to have them all out of the house. It gets quiet without them, but we fill that silence.” Hard, he put a hand on Leona’s head. The ‘maid’ bobbed up and down with renewed vigour and did not stop. Elek barely let it distract him as he continued talking about his children. Apparently, he had three from every one of his won. A nice spread, all around. Aside from Nightingale, they had all ended up in rather uneventful positions in life. Sothing that he still took pride in.
John supported him in that. The world needed woodworkers and store managers. They were the unsung heroes of society. The more the two of them talked, the further the initial understanding went. Elek truly was a man after John’s own heart. That the older man was less successful along every tric did not even bother him in the slightest. He even joked that 20 won would definitely drive him to jump into the ocean.
The conversation ended around the two-hour mark. The limitations of the technology just beca too apparent. With this many participants and only one person at each side really being able to speak at a ti, everyone was awkward and slow. “Visit us in person so ti,” Elek half-suggested, half-demanded. “It’s difficult to have a proper conversation through this.”
“I’m a busy man, but I’ll try to make ti,” John promised. Imdiately thereafter, Elek shut down the connection, sparing all of them the awkward goodbye bits. “You could have told your father is aweso,” he said jokingly to Nightingale.
“He taught how to find a good man,” the harpy cooed and kissed his neck. “He taught well, agreed?”
“Agreed,” John gasped. It was doubtful he would hear of her parents more than once or twice a year. That they were imdiately identified as people he could get along with was a nice assurance though. “Now, what do you want to do with the rest of your birthday?”
“I got a few ideas,” she whispered and slipped down to the floor.
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