Making sure that his balls were completely emptied inside the silver haired neko girl, Devon finally pulled out, satisfied for now.
"Phew, that was good," he said with a deep breath. Devon slapped his unerect cock against her ass for good measure, as just a bit more baby batter oozed out from his phallus onto her ass, dripping down her butt to the ground below. He let go of the neko girl, letting her wobble on her legs on her own.
The neko girl collapsed onto the floor, knees first. Her legs were visible shaking, and she had a lewd dazed expression on her face, with her tongue sticking out.
Devon patted her on the head, preening her shiny hair. "Good girl," he praised her. "You took my cock well."
"Thank you, master…"
Letting her process what just happened, Devon pulled up his pants and grabbed another jellyfruit from the tray the waitress neko left on the coffee table. Taking a fist full of the jelly-like flesh of the foreign fruit, he put it in his mouth and took a deep bite.
It was bouncy and sweet, and very delicious, just like the waitress neko girl's tight pussy.
They still had the better of an hour to kill, so Devon sat down behind the neko girl and began massaging her breasts, squeezing her voluptuous petite body into his own while she still stayed in her post coitus daze. Devon began to lick her ear, and then the inside of her ear, sloshing his tongue into her as he felt her goosebumps raise for a brief moment from the intense sensation.
Her pussy was slobbering wet now, and leaving a bit of a puddle on the floor. Devon petted the neko girl gently, from her head to her back. He really liked how submissive and feminine she was.
Devon played with the waitress neko girl's body for the remainder of the hour, just enjoying massaging her lecherous figure. Eventually, it was time to do what he was brought here to do– have dinner with the earl, and regale him with tales of his conquest of the gorilla demon.
"Come this way, master," the waitress neko said, unlocking the stateroom door finally and bringing him over to the west wing. This earl's mansion was even more impressive than the baroness's he stayed at last night, which was saying a lot. If the baroness was considered high nobility, this earl was a notch above. Elite nobility, so to speak.
Just the sheer number of servants walking around blew Devon's mind. There were at least three times as many servants here than there were in the manor he stayed at last night. Chefs, gardeners, maids, handmaids, butlers, doormen… the amount of service people of all sorts of professions and races was just astounding. Devon saw a dwarf for the first time in his life, working a billow for the kitchen.
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Walking through the estate, multiple servants nodded and bowed as he passed, signs of respect that he did not receive at all yesterday. Word must have spread fast about his deeds.
Devon honestly didn't even remember very well about how he killed the demon. He just sort of… exploded, while in miserable pain from getting his spine detached over and over again while his body perpetually healed from his [Dead Man Walking] passive.
His passive was really both a blessing and a curse, and he now knew that if someone that understood his ability got a hold of him, an experimental dark mage perhaps, he could be in store for an eternity of continuous torture, as his limbs and body continuously regenerated no matter what happened to him.
Devon decided to do his utmost best to avoid getting into a compromising position like that. Step one– don't get caught by an experimental torturer dark mage, he thought to himself.
"We're here," the neko waitress said with a smile, as they arrived at the dining hall. With a ceiling that reached upwards like a chateau, Devon stepped into the archaic and refined dining hall, fitted with long tables that he only ever saw in medieval children's fairy tale books before.
If he was told that this was the king's dining hall, he wouldn't question it. The majesty shown here was quite a statement.
"Welcome!" a booming voice said from the other end of the long table in the middle. It was an older man, with a hunk of venison in his fork raised to his mouth.
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