CHAPTER 3 #3
Okay, fine. I’m a little sensitive about my folded-wings that create the appearance of a hunchback under my jackets. But who wouldn’t be? Pride might be a deadly sin, but I don’t see any angels walking around looking like a tortoise. Plus, there’s only so much that fine tailoring can accomplish.
“Unless you’re afraid?” she challenges, looking around, likely for something she can stake me with.
Not shifting is making her think I’m a vampire again.
“I’m thinking of your sensibilities, Bumps. When I shift, I’m going to be naked, and when I return to flesh, I’m still going to be naked.” Amusement suddenly folds through me. “Think you’re big enough, little girl, to handle a naked gargoyle?”
Another blush of red transforms her back into a tomato, but all she does is fold her arms and tap her foot, waiting.
My cock is a lot more interested in performing this proof than it should be.
Be flaccid, cock. This is a fake girlfriend, not a real one.
But the stupid appendage doesn’t seem to care, even though Bumpy is nothing like the last woman I loved. Esmerelda was darkness, with eyes filled with night and shooting fire. Bumpy is all sunshine and sweetness, her exact opposite. And yet…
I’m just horny. I should have asked Jean-Luc to bring in some women last week.
He offers to do so from time to time. I just hesitate to be with someone who’ll only be with me for money.
There’s something sordid about prostitution, though in the old days, women who lay down upon their backs provided the spine for the village.
“Well? Forget how to shift?”
“If you’re sure?” I start to slip my jacket off, taking care to fold it over the back of a plush chair, before I slip out of my shoes. Reaching down for my socks, I take longer than I need to, giving her a chance to reconsider.
When she doesn’t, I go to work on my cufflinks and then begin unbuttoning my shirt.
Immediately, my wings begin to spread, even though I’m actively focusing on glueing them together.
But that’s the nature of wings. They want to fly.
Finally, when all the buttons are undone, I slip the shirt from me and lay it over my jacket.
With a sudden thrust, I expand my wings to their full breadth.
Luckily, the room is wide. So are my wings. I need a good fifteen feet and I have it.
“Still need proof?”
But when she just stares at me, drinking me in (no, that’s just my imagination), I move my fingers to my belt.
And watch her swallow. Watch red suffuse her cheeks again, not that the last blush has fully disappeared yet.
Slowly, I unbuckle the slip of leather before dragging it through the loops of my pants.
When it’s free, I fold it over and caress it against my palm, all the while keeping her gaze on mine.
She swallows again. I don’t know if she’s picturing what I’m picturing—me, swatting the folded leather against her ass, pinkening her elsewhere other than her cheekbones—but the image does nothing for my cock’s descent into flaccidness, which won’t be happening anytime soon.
I reach for the button, pop it open, unzip, and wait with my hand in front of the family jewels. Because any moment now, my cock is going to spring free of its constrictions, hoping to attract her tongue.
“Last chance, little girl.”
She swallows again. Her lips don’t touch. That slight parting only makes me even harder. Honestly, I didn’t know I could get this hard. My cock could stake stone, easy.,
My pants fall to the floor. Two steps take me out of them.
I spread my arms wide, watching her as she studies me, letting her get a good, long look before…
I shift. Instantly, I compress into hard stone.
Gray, like my skin. Impenetrable. My wings fold into tiny flutters against my back.
My face crags and my features realign until I look nearly ape-like.
All my muscles trill into skeletal thinness as my flesh disappears into my stone bones.
I’m not beautiful in true gargoyle form, but I retain my inner attributes. I’ve always been a thinker. That’s what they used to call me, too, ever since the twelfth century when I was brought to life by good magick and grace.
Time collapses as it does when I’m in my inanimate state. I can see, hear, think… but the minutes don’t take on the same sort of lightness. I’ve been chipped and ravaged with time, but I’m still me. Still whole. Still eternal. In this form, I can wait forever.
Pulling on the small bright spot of magick inside me, I reform into my human guise.
The horns upon my head descend into my skull.
My face flattens out. My skin grows paler, though always gray.
My wings enlarge with my body, aching as they always do when released from stone. I fling them out… and hold her gaze.
Which drops. She focuses on my cock. “Well, someone’s pretty high on their own supply.”
And I burst out laughing. Heavens, she’s wonderful. “Could be a normal reaction to shifting.”
Finally, those blue eyes meet mine. I’m not sure what expression I spy in them, but it’s… something. Something warm. Something almost… reverent?
And my pulse begins to race.