Erin lay basking in the afterglow of the most amazing sex she'd ever had, feeling the soft Persian rug beneath her, inhaling the smooth smoke if the cigarette. She looked over at John, who was laying on his back with his wings wrapped around him and his eyes closed.
"That's never happened to me before," he said, his voice breathy, still reeling from the intensity of pleasure.
"What, you've never had sex?" she asked, jokingly.
"That American--" he took a drag from his cigarette--"wit again. I meant, er, lift-off. That's a new one on me. You...are...amazing," he said, and Erin could hear the sincerity of his last comment. Suddenly, John sat bolt upright, and stared at her with fear. "You aren't going to try to eat me now, are you?"
Erin burst out laughing, and couldn't stop until her sides hurt. "You're really milking the spider jokes for all they're worth, aren't you?" she said, still chuckling.
John sighed in relief. "I'll take that as a 'no'," he said, snubbing out his cigarette. "And yes, I probably will. Feel free to make bird jokes, of course."
Erin realized what he was doing, and honestly appreciated it. He wasn't making fun of her; the more she could laugh about her transformation, the less it would bother her--she could accept herself for what she was. It would seem strange, even cruel, to an outside observer, but John really seemed to understand how her mind worked.
With her powerful legs she jumped up, to find John already half-dressed. He tossed her clothes to her, and she caught them with her foremost legs, and got dressed herself.
"So, Erin, what now?" John asked as he bottoned the last button of his shirt around his wings.
