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The tower was all cobbled limestone; better for resisting arcane effects.

On the mid-most level of the multi story spire was a study: a cozy, fire-lit space, with a ceiling ten times taller than the mage who kept it. Books, organized by category and title, lined the walls, surrounding all who studied on the wooden plank floor below, a personal library he had amassed over the years.

He sat at one of two round, marble tables, the book in his hands tilted so that it was illuminated by the nearby fireplace. Since there was only one source of light, his side of the study was bright, while the other was blotched by a thousand cast shadows.

Even with the burning flame, the air in the keep ran cold, but Roland kept warm in his mage's robe, which was a dull, dark purple. He was away from reality at the moment, lost in the text, droning incantations, convoluted recipes, passages upon passages of hand techniques for spells, and no shortage of markings for arcane enchantments. Page after page he turned; entire afternoons could pass this way.

"You look comfy over there," a woman's voice came.

Roland looked up, having barely heard her. "Come again?"

At the only other table in the chamber a full-grown gryphon sat on her hind, her own assortment of magical documents strewn about. Her feathers shone hazel brown, complimenting her yellow, predator eyes. Her lower, lioness half was hidden from sight. She was frankly beautiful, but he could never say that to her face.

"I said you look comfy," she repeated.

He checked over himself. "I do?" he asked.

"Yeah, all cooped up by the fireplace, with your fancy robe, probably all warm and stuff," she said.

He narrowed his eyes at her.

“Kinda seems nice," she added, her gaze drifting sideways.

“You know you don't need an excuse to come over here, right?" he asked.

She chirped, feathers bristling in excitement as she got up and trotted, crossing the room. Her scaled forelegs ended in wide, avian claws, which clacked against the floor. Right down the middle of her body, the feathers stopped, her back half being softly furred, her feline, digitigrade legs padding along quietly, a lion's tail trailing behind her.

Circling around his table, she sidled up behind him and took a seat on her rear end. Him being on a stool, there was no backrest to block her, so he felt the fluff of her natural plumage press into his back, billowing out on either side of his head. Even sitting down, she was able to lay her beak in his hair. Which she did.

“I just like it better when you invite me," she said.

He sighed, leaning back, the warmth of her body apparent even through his attire. Closeness was something he would never object to. Having a gryphon as a companion had many perks, one being an innate affinity for magic, the very substance of it being nestled in their bodies. Another was the personal comfort. They tended to enjoy and seek out physical affection, and Marron was no exception.

“What are we reading today?" she asked.

“Oh, I'm reviewing a bit of everything. I know I'll forget it all if I don't. The Eastern spells especially," he explained.

“But those are the easiest ones," she said.

“Hah! For you, maybe. My body wasn't built for this like yours was," he countered.

She began to read the tome with him, tracing the lines.

“Then what was your body built for?" she asked.

“Well, we might not have inner magic, but we have these," he flared out his hands for emphasis. "Opposable thumbs and all," he continued.

She shook her head slightly and smiled. “Is that it?"

He shrugged. “As for something I can do that you can't? That's about it," he admitted.

“Hmmm," she hummed. "Humans hands are interesting. Almost too many uses to count," she said.

He chuckled. "Heavens, Marron. Where is your mind?" he said.

She shook her head, now staring off and across the chamber. "What do you mean?" she asked.

“Too many uses to count," he repeated, the pitch of his voice increasing considerably. “Your ambiguity hides nothing you silly gryphon."

“Ok, I do not sound like whatever that was," she asserted. “Secondly, I only said what I said."

“Oh of course. I'm sure of it. But, now I'm curious. What makes you ask in the first place?" he questioned.

She shifted in place, moving him slightly. “I don't know. Humans have always been strange to me. I feel like I hardly know anything about them. Always so reserved and proper, always covering themselves with clothes. It just makes me want to find out what's under it all. Even you sometimes," she said.

He stopped reading his tome and set it on the table. “Do you feel I'm too reserved with you?"

“No. Well, sometimes. But that's not really the problem. It's just that, I've never seen you without clothes," she said.

He didn't know whether to burst out laughing to be genuinely baffled. “That's… I... “ He searched for the right words. “That would be on purpose, I make sure I'm dressed before I'm in sight of anyone," he explained.

“Even mates?" she probed.

He pursed his lips and adjusted his crotch. “In those cases, obviously not but…" he trailed off.

“Do you have any?" she asked.

“Um, mates? No, not… not really," he said. “Marron, you've never asked me anything like this before," he continued.

“I know. I decided today I was finally going to find out," she said.

The question made his heart race before he even posed it. “Find out what?"

“What's beneath all those clothes," she replied.

He felt her lift her beak off of him, and then felt it against his neck, nuzzling gently. She went from one side to the other, before she laid her head on his right shoulder.

“Marron?"

“Yes?" she cooed.

“What's going on?"

“You should take off your robe, I'm pretty sure it's gonna warm up today" she mused.

“No- you… are you serious?"

“Look me in the eyes and you tell me," she said.

He twisted around, his lips parted, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes wide. Her pupils were dilated, crowned on the edges by yellow, a stare that pierced him easily, saw everything about him. He knew that she knew him too well for him to veil his anxiousness, his surprise.

He turned and leaned back into her once more. The truth he feared more was his own.

“Why today?" he asked, resigning.

“Why not? Sometimes the right feeling comes along and you have to go for it," she rebuked.

His stomach fluttered. “You really think that?"

“Without a doubt."

He closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. Deep breaths in and out. The fireplace crackled.

“Are you ok?" she questioned.

He perked up. “Yes, yes. I'm fine."

“You just went quiet for a little there. What were you thinking about?"

He clasped his hands in his lap. “I've had thoughts about you before Marron, and this almost feels too good to be true," he said.

“You've wanted to get undressed in front of me?"

He nodded slowly. “That, and a bit more."

She was silent for a beat, considering. He started to worry. What if she-

“Wow. I never would've taken you for a pervert, Roland," she teased, breaking his train of thought. Feeling himself moving, he realized she had begun to rock back and forth where she sat. “So you've wanted this?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered honestly.

"You seem a little put off," she noted.

His fingers tightened around each other. "Just nervous excitement. A lot of it."

“But you're usually so composed, Roland. Are you thinking about what's under my tail?"

If he said it, it would be too much. There was nothing he wanted more and yet…

“How often have you looked there while you thought I was distracted?"

He knew the sight well, quite guilty of her accusation. Sometimes it almost seemed like she would purposely expose herself to him. The image was vivid in his mind, even now.

“Do you think about me when you take care of yourself? Don't think I don't know you do it."

Of course he did. Every single time, it was her that he thought about. Imagining how she might feel. In his bed, when he thought she was asleep in her own quarters, he would lie, hand around himself, daydreaming. The sight. The sounds. Right until he-

“How long have you secretly wanted to fuck me?"

On the tip his tongue. He wanted to. He just couldn't.

“Still nervous?" she asked. “What if I told you that I've thought about your cock?"

Her talons brushed his ribs, causing him to reflexively raise his arms, watching as she surrounded him, rubbing down and over his stomach. Her avian claws simultaneously met at his crotch.

“Inside me," she added, pressing against his now stirring bulge. He felt the pressure through his robe. “Is that what you want?" she probed.

In that moment, he knew he could have her, and it nearly made his heart stop. Would she let him cum inside? Were they really going to do this right now?

Her beak nudged his ear. “Say it," she whispered.

They were alone together in that room. No one would know. He could focus solely on her body, on fulfilling all of his nightly fantasies, every possibility at his fingertips, there for the taking. He could ask for it all, and she would mostly likely oblige.

"Yes," he breathed. That was all it took for her vigor to bloom.

She kneaded him, being sure to keep her talons flexed and away from him, making him squirm under her attention. He pushed into the rolling motion, the fabric he wore creating a nice, smooth barrier. The idea of having his way with the gryphon, combined with her current ministrations, was enough to make him swell quickly. His manhood rose and brushed against the silk, being massaged and rubbed tentatively. He could feel the muted contours of her scaly claws, stimulating his arousal in unexpected and unpredictable patterns. His eyelids began to droop, wanting to focus only on Marron and what she was doing to him.

The feeling left him, or more accurately, she did. He started, seeing that her forelegs were no longer around him.

“As your companion, I'm supposed to help you out, you can ask me for anything. You know that, right?" she asked, still pressed against his back.

He nodded.

“So what will it be?" she questioned.

Once his imagination got going, it was impossible to stop, the haze of lust had very well taken hold, and its corruption of his current desires were apparent in the plans he was concocting. He stood up, away from the table, and faced her. Her gaze was honest, expectant.

“Just wait for me to get out of this, for now," he said, already in the process of it.

“Alright. I suppose that means I can't simply rip it from your body and have you take me right where you stand?"

His skin tingled, and his head felt like it was full. He pinched at the button of his robe, a magical object that kept the whole middle seam together with enchanted thread. With that, it fell to the ground. His grey undershirt was next, off his body and away. She eyed him as a cat would a mouse, waiting batedly. As soon as his torso was uncovered, she attacked, running her slightly prickly tongue from his stomach to his chest. He laughed at her tickling assault, struggling to undo his trousers as she continued to lap at him. It seemed she simply couldn't get enough of his taste.

The second he finally pulled his trousers down, his breath was stifled, her attention dropping to his exposed member, painting it with her tongue. The texture was rough, but no less pleasant, and no less titillating.

"Ahhh," he groaned, still trying to fully undress.

He froze again, mouth agape. Looking down, he saw that she'd taken him into her beak, closing carefully on him, the underside of his length cradled by her tongue, right up the very base. Her eyes, initially focused on his member, met his. They glowed with intent. She searched his face with anticipation, reveling in the fact she could so easily incapacitate him. Gradually, she slipped him back out, leaving him throbbing in the chamber air and moist with her saliva.

“Somewhere you wanna put that?" she asked.

He nodded vehemently.

“I won't stop you," she stated.

One moment he was still, the next he was jumping up and down, kicking off his trousers, his leather riding boots flying off afterward. His clothes haphazardly flung into a nearby pile, the mage stood nude before the gryphon.

On all fours for him to behold, Marron awaited the young human, her words still fresh in his mind. The exhilaration of choice hit him again, driving him firstly to desire, and secondly to action.

He stepped forth, appreciating the view, her body feral and enticing. His cock bobbed inches from her beak. She was about the size of a small pony, but her neck was far more flexible than that of an equine. Her refrain from taking him in right then and there made him tense from head to toe.

"Is that where you want it?" she asked.

"Fuck… yes, darling," he breathed.

She was still as she spoke, his dick well within reach.

“Fuck? I thought you wanted to cum down my throat first," Her tone being one of faux innocence.

The teasing was too much to bear. The instinctual, hormone-influenced part of him wanted nothing more to stuff his cock right back into her beak. The more rational part of himself held back, still afraid somehow, telling him it was not allowed. She had told him to do whatever he wished. Couldn't he get a grip on that?

“Please..." was all he could manage.

“I'll say it again, nothing is stopping you," she said.

The nervousness, the bit of fear, it was still there, but he had just found the key to overcoming it. He took another step forward, planting his feet shoulder width. Holding his cock in one hand he guided it hesitantly toward its destination. She obliged the gesture, opening up just enough to be able to accept him. His hips tilted, and slowly, as controlled as could be, his cock once more slid into her maw.

Inevitably, the tip met the surface of her warm avian tongue, and with that there was nothing left outside her beak. Once more, gently, she let her jaws close on him. This trapped his sensitive member between her tongue and the soft roof of her maw. His hands shot to either side of her eagle head.

Her breath was hot, her copious saliva was hot, her mouth was hot. A temperature that soothed, much like a warm bath, causing his thighs to both tense and relax intervally. Her eyes were closed. And he soon felt why. Her tongue slid back and forth, brushing every tiny, squishy nub against his delivering vein, forcing him to moan out. It was a soaking sponge, an abundance of slickness that surrounded his cock with seemingly no end to its quantity. It would be ridiculously easy to rock his hips in time with her tongue.

It came naturally, like the two were built for it, which only sent his mind further reeling in arousal. He rocked his hips back, even as her soft flesh slipped the opposite direction, generating just that much more friction and pressure, before he rocked forth, plunging his cock back into her maw, right to the base.

Every so often, when he would hilt balls-deep in her beak, he could a unique tightness around his tip. He groaned as he realized it was her throat, accepting his deepest of his plunges.

Careful as always, he began rocking faster, pushing his cock into her pillowy tongue, feeling it give and surround him further, the gryphon even curling it around him as he went further in. Keeping a comfortable grip on her head, he began to fuck her beak.

She opened her eyes, and their gazes met. He could tell immediately how much she liked the increase in pace. He saw hunger and sinful desire. What else could he do but indulge her cravings?

Marron tilted her head to introduce his cock to a new angle, better able to take him that way. It only made him go faster, each time sliding his tip farther down her throat.

On his most sensitive of skin, this treatment was impossible to sustain. His loins burned with pleasure and the need to cum. It ramped and built violently, as violently as he filled her maw over and over, never breaking their visual embrace. He knew why she stared back, and that alone was enough to bring him right to the edge. She wanted to watch his face when he came down her throat, wanted to watch his body stiffen like a board, electrified by how he coaxed the seed from his jewels.

Before he could even consider it, it hit him. He was cumming. He hilted in her beak.

“Ohhh… ugh… ghhh, fuck…" he moaned.

Her tongue squeezed around him, demonstrating intimate control, timing it with his throbs, accompanying each and every new squirt of cum that lanced down her gullet. His tip was massaged and spoiled silly by her avian throat, which she had full control of. His eyes were open but he did not see. The world was gone and replaced by the insurmountable bliss of her maw, the rush emanating from his crotch, shooting down his legs and up his spine. She watched with satisfaction.

Working him over still, she rode him down his high, bringing him back to his surroundings. He saw her. A gorgeous gryphon, his cock in her beak. He rubbed the feathers of her cheeks, and she cooed. Pulling away just so, she let his softening member slip out to dangle in the air, a string of saliva and cum connecting them.

His breathing had yet to return to normal. "That was…"

"Delicious," she finished for him, promptly swallowing her prize.

Before he could protest, she began to clean his cock, swiveling her tongue over the tip, the crown, eventually making her way to the very base. She took it back into her maw for one last suckle before she let it be.

If he hadn't just unloaded, he would've gotten hard all over again.

“If I had known you could do that, I would've been the one asking for this," he panted.

“So I take it you liked it?" she crooned, eyeing up his manhood.

It was a criminal understatement. He couldn't believe he got this gryphon all to himself.

Marron stretched, much in the fashion of a house cat, flaring her tail upward. Although he couldn't see her backside, the mere mental image of it planted filthy intentions in his head.

“What? Something catch your eye back there?" she asked. He looked away, realizing she must've caught him staring. “Oh, I see. Let me help you out with that," she continued.

Without warning, she faced her body toward the fireplace, lowering her chest until it almost touched the floor. Her rump right in front of him, she raised her fur-tipped tail just for his viewing pleasure. He breathed out in awe. Although she had the back half of a lion, her flower was a spade, a plump trio of tightly wound lips, dark in color, soft-looking in texture.

The display was primal, animalistic, and it worked wonders in seizing his attention. She tilted her head to the side to look at him.

“Why don't you show me what those human hands can do," she said, waving her presented rear side to side in slow, inviting motions.

He was upon her just like that, kneeling behind her, one hand on her sumptuous rear, the other hovering inches from her honeypot. She shifted in place, pawing at the floor at the feeling of him touching her. Pushing down his hesitation, he brushed his finger against her arousal. His mouth fell agape as her arousal winked, flexing on its own, a teasing hint of her inner pink flesh showing for a fleeting, precious second. His fingers sought more, only this time he prodded his index finger at the center of her spade. It was as soft as it looked, perhaps even more so. It gave in against his finger like a cushion, like it was built specifically to accept him. At the same time, as he kept pressing, the pressure keeping his finger from slipping in proved greater than expected. Then it slipped past her lips at once, down to the knuckle. They both gasped, her from the sudden intrusion, and him from the sudden tightness. Her supple innards clamped on him from all sides, her core burning ten times hotter than his single finger. His cock throbbed in anticipation. If this is what he was going to have…

If he was an uncivilized beast, he'd probably start drooling.

He curled his finger, twisting it, exploring with reckless abandon. Her tail flicked in the air in response. Marron rested her head on the floor, glazed eyes staring ahead, unfocused.

The human began to work his finger in and out, waiting until only the first knuckle lay within before sinking down to the last. What began as solitary drops became a steady, thin stream of her lubricant, pushed out from the source by his finger. His palm was coated in as it dropped down.

"That's it… so good… I want you, Roland…" she managed between moans. Her expression was desperate, beyond lustful. His dick throbbed again, almost at full mast.

He was surprised. All it had taken was a little tending to and her confident disposition vanished, in its place her visible need and wild, wanton desire. Giving her what she asked for, mid-stroke, he added a second finger to the mix.

"No, Roland stop. I need you," she said.

He paused. She turned her head to look at him again. Her shape was outlined by the light of the fire, beak open just so, her tongue peeking out as she panted. The gryphon hadn't mentioned it, but by his measure, he would've assumed she was in heat. His blood was liquid fire, fueling his lions, his cock hard as stone itself.

He got to his feet, removing his finger and grabbing her shapely, feline rear with both hands. Having to adjust for their height difference, he prodded for her to lower her hind just so, and she obliged.

It was perfect. His manhood lined up right with her pussy. Her lips glistened. The fire crackled.

He didn't even have to hold himself, he simply moved his hips forward until his tip caught in between her outer folds. Already, he could taste how wet it was, the pouring heat just waiting to be driven into. He pushed. Her entrance resisted, the billowing spade cushioning his tip.

At once it slipped in. The crown sank past her tight folds and lodged within.

“Oh… gods," he cursed.

He didn't know if he would be able to survive the heat for long. Yet, he pushed further. The rest of his member sank in with ease, her pussy stretched around his shaft as it swallowed him whole. Soon, the skin of his groin rubbed into the fur of her rump. From there, he was gone.

It was a living oven, baking pleasure into his cock, a warmth so extreme yet so welcome and pleasant. Her flesh hugged him, a snug little sleeve for him to fuck silly. The pressure almost made it feel like her walls were heavy, weighing on him, but when pulled back out, slowly, torturously, until the tip remained inside, it parted for him. It sucked at him, involuntarily clenching, trying to keep him from leaving. He thrust, hilting himself again in her wonderful snatch. There was a loud squelch, her liquid allowing him to slip back in fluidly.

“Just like that Roland," she breathed.

She flagged her tail further back, tilting her hips into him, making him grind against her, a motion he went along with, thrusting into her even though he was already balls-deep.

He could feel her walls spread around his head, in the hardest to reach part of her canal, perhaps the most intimate part of her body. It was feral bliss. His desire, greedy as it was, mounted.

Starting right away on a break neck rhythm, he pounded her bestial lips, her spade spreading around him, her walls suckling on his cock each time he pulled back out.

The gryphon began to squawk, her legs shuddering as he took her with violent passion. He watched his slickened, wet member sink in and out of her hole, and that sight along with senses that came with it was a whole other level of ecstasy. His hips only kept pumping, churning her inner flesh, pistoning himself inside her.

“Don't stop, don't stop… oh by the gods above," she moaned aloud shamelessly.

He loved those words. He humped at her rear faster for it, his bare flesh against hers. Two animals, nothing between them, as close as they could be.

Beneath his hands, her ass dimpled under his squeezing and groping, unable to resist it as he fucked her silly. There was no worldly feeling that matched this gryphon beneath him, his loyal companion.

“I'm…" was all he said. It was all that was needed.

She crooned, her wings extending on either side of her, full span. They twitched and flapped in abrupt, excited movements. Her body began to rock against his deep plunges, slipping his cock even farther within her each time. His pace was merciless, and he was about to pay the price for it.

He slammed home. His toes curled. The first spurt of his seed launched inside her pussy, his balls tightening as they rested against her outer lips. His whole body flexed repeatedly. He heard squawk a final time, her head craned to the ceiling, eyes closed as her walls began to convulse, clenching and unclenching on his sensitive cock. She literally milked him, coaxing out each rope of his cum.

“Fuck... Marron…" he groaned. He had to say her name. It was right.

Emptying himself within her loins was so unearthly satisfying. It didn't feel real. And when he managed to regather his wits, he gazed upon her form. Even among her own kind, she stood out. Other gryphons did not compare.

“You said my name," she noted.

“That I did," he nodded.

They took a moment to catch their breaths.

“More?" he asked.

She looked back at him. “Of course you're going again. A gryphon in heat can't be satisfied with just one seeding."