My morning wood had been taken care of twice over. A wonderful start to the day that could only have been bettered by two additional events. Number one was a shared shower with my girlfriend. An affair of kisses and cuddles, but no further lewdness. Even if I had managed to work up the necessary vigour for a third round, I was certain Esther wouldn't have let me. Taking the excuse of cleaning her to rub up and down her curves was enough entertainment though. There was just so much about her to squeeze.
Number two was coffee. It was instant coffee and it was tasty. I drank it black, unwilling to dilute its awakening capacity. One would think that two rounds of morning sex got the blood pumping enough that caffeine was no longer a necessity. Such a person would not know about the depth of my addiction. Only extreme excitement, such as the first day on Welldark, was enough to overpower that particular need.
Between sips of my coffee, I prepared our breakfast. It was a new month and I had a fresh influx of money from the allowance and from my wage from the service job at Café Served. Part of this money had been invested into the cheese omelette currently frying in the pan.
Practically every morning, I did this job. Esther was not particularly happy that I did it so often. To stop me, she would have needed to enter the kitchen before me. While we usually took our showers together, we never left the bathroom together. By the time I was dried up and ready to leave, she had barely started her hair-taming routine. That gave me plenty of time to cook.
A bit too much time, as I had learned. If I started cooking immediately after I left her to her desperate quest to gain control over her luscious mane, the food would be cold by the time she got to the table. Because of this, I had about an hour in the morning to kill in various ways. Typically I went through a light workout and read. There was plenty of learning to do and I had a clear mind after the preceding morning activities.
When it was time, I prepared breakfast. On days I didn't feel like cooking, I just threw bread, toppings, milk and cereal on the table. In all honesty, it barely mattered. Esther wolfed down anything and everything within reach. The submissiveness and agreeability displayed during morning sex was entirely forgotten. After spending upwards of an hour on getting her hair in order, the usual crankiness of her hunger was in full effect. The calories burned during our erotic entanglement only worsened that.
The lesson I had learned early in our relationship held true: do not talk to a hungry Esther. Wait until she either slowed down or addressed you first. Otherwise, stay quiet, make no sudden movements, and never, ever mess with the hair.
Because my Queen was a woman who hated owing anyone anything, on days I prepared breakfast, I was often treated to either home cooked lunch or dinner, depending on what we had time for. Because I, her King, was a man who loved treating her, I returned the favour on the days when she prepared breakfast for me. That was, typically, Tuesday and sometimes Sunday. Tuesday, both of us could sleep in until around nine. I graciously accepted that as the gift from every last god out there that it was. Esther saw it as an opportunity to wake up at the same hour as any other day. Consequently, even her hair routine allowed her to get into the kitchen first.
We still found the time for morning sex on those days, I just snoozed off afterwards. A two hour sleep extension after pounding a bombshell like Esther into the mattress was heavenly.
While Esther's repayment always came in the shape of a meal of her own, I often opted for an alternative: massages. One of the many absolute truths in the universe was that women with sizable chesticles desperately needed someone to work their back at least once a week. As much as I enjoyed touching her, this was actually about her enjoyment first. Her spine did require frequent relaxation. Food could be bought practically everywhere, but a proper back rub was something she had to entrust me with. No one else was allowed to see her naked back.
Thinking about this and many other things, I lifted the bottom of the omelette. The cheese had melted, the bottom was a light brown, and therefore it was as good as I could make it. I cut it into two halves with the spatula, which landed on separate plates on the table. I was fine tuning the arrangement, when Arlethia and Willt decided to grace me with their presence.
"Look at it, our butler made us breakfast," Arlethia remarked. The succubus moved towards the table, mischievously reaching for the plate. I slapped her hand. She pulled back with a giggle and an overplayed protesting sound. Then she fell onto another chair.
Arlethia was a demonette dominated by the colour red. Her hair was red, her skin was red, and her pupil was a red slit sitting in a black iris. Shades between different areas made it easy enough to differentiate and prevented her from appearing too monochrome. This was especially notable around her dark red lips and, as I knew from a years past school trip incident, her nipples. Today, she covered herself with a dark, oversized shirt and hotpants.
Like all succubi, she had a thin tail and horns that curved backwards. My personal theory was that succubi had these horns for two particular reasons: one was to protect their hair during cat fights and second was to serve as handles while they used their mouth. Since succubi were born with a natural inclination to extract male reproduction fluid in order to raise their energy levels (Arlethia described it as a better version of coffee), it would have made sense that they developed the features to make the process more enticing for both parties.
I did have to doubt that Willt was the kind of person who took full advantage of those love handles though. The young warlock, and Arlethia's childhood friend turned boyfriend, was of a slender figure, particularly for a man. This was especially notable with how short and curvy Arlethia was. His hair was long, brown, and straight for the most part. Often, he could be seen with circular, red tinted glasses. Today, he opted for just circular. He wore a shirt with the logo of a metal band. The exact name passed me by. If the random assortment of jittery lines was supposed to spell it out, they failed to do so. At least his jeans were normal.
Willt sat down next to his girlfriend and added, "He isn't on shift at the moment."
"Oh, that's an idea," Arlethia hummed and tapped her feet on the ground. "Maybe we should come hang out at the bar later."
"You might serve to break up the monotony as I serve in the Café Served," I responded, while sitting in eager wait for my Queen. "Maybe Esther will get you a discount. She's bartending."
"She's already been promoted to running the bar?" Willt asked.
"Assistant bartending," I corrected myself and let out an overplayed sigh. "A true shame of epic proportions, that after so much time has elapsed, we are still not trusted with the sole oversight of the bar. Alas, the tips must be split, between us two and whoever else appears, in our splendid establishment."
"Dude, relax, you've only worked there for two months," Arlethia pointed out in her dry tone.
"I practically run the establishment."
"Then why do they put Esther behind the bar and not you?"
