Pengu keeps nooting a climate researcher

While the night was blissful and mindblowing, it was not without consequences. The fatigue from wandering in the blizzard and making love for hours combined with laying naked and covered in bodily fluids in cold cave cause Paul to fall ill with fever. Much to the shock to the Emperor Penguin as she awakens to Paul shivering and sweating, muttering in his feverish sleep. Despite her efforts, she can’t wake him up. Worried she gets up from the bedding and backs away.

By the nature, Penguin Harpies are motherly and caring creatures. Living in the harsh conditions of Antarctica, they must rely on each other to survive the freezing winds. Hurdling together they share their body heat in large flocks, alternating their place in the flock so everybody gets equal share of the warmth.
Greatest example of this behavior is when one of the flock births an offspring. To ensure the offspring survives in the glacial environment, large parts of the flock dote and pamper it, keeping it warm with their bodies and bringing it food.

So, seeing Paul whimpering in his sleep, the Emperor Penguin suppresses her mating desire despite spending only one night with him and instead pulls a calm, motherly smile on her face. He looks vulnerable, defenseless. Instinct to nurse arises within her and she knees besides him, soothing his feverish forehead with her wing. She cleans his body, wiping away the sweat and love juices, gathering all cloths and feathers to make him comfortable, placing cool towel on his head, finally snuggling besides him under the covers, resting in his armpit. And thus goes the second day, blizzard howling outside of the cave.

On the second morning, rays of light entering the cave, she repeats yesterday’s actions; wiping Paul’s body clean, replacing the towel with fresh one, gently dripping water on his lips. The blizzard has finally ended, wrath of the icy nature calmed down, letting sun light in the cave and causing small ice crystals sparkle as wind pushes them inside. The Penguin harpy ponders should she seek help from the creatures of the faraway mountains, but decides against it. They are unnerving and the trek is long. Paul seems stable now, she can nurse him herself. Paddling over him, she places gentle kiss on his cheek before heading outside. While he sleeps, she is going to gather fish for healthy meal should he feel better on the evening.

As the evening sets, sun painting the Antarctic sky with red and yellow, Penguin harpy sits beside Paul worried. He is still sleeping, the fever stubbornly refusing to lower. She is running out of options. Apart from waiting and hoping for best, her own skills are falling short. She can’t force herbal fungi down his throat nor she can’t look for his own medicine from his cave. Penguin harpies have stared the humans with interest from behind the hill, but avoided approaching their strange caves. It was only last night she dared to sneak closer after other humans had left.

Even the cool towels won’t bring Paul’s fever down. She can’t exactly freeze his head either. Wiping sweat off his face and dipping the towel in cold water is best she can do to ease his plight. This isn’t like the regular sickness she has seen. There must be bad energy burning him up from inside, polluting his mind and body. Her mother taught her a way to drive such bad energies out of body when she was young. She used to tell tales how she had saved her father with such methods after finding him wondering the icy plains of Antarctica, having gotten separated from the mountain expedition. The foul energies must be gathered to single body part and ejected from the body. Revising the ancient shamanic Penguin harpy cleansing rituals, she flops her breasts on Paul’s forehead.

Smothering his hot face with her cool mammaries, Penguin harpy yelps in surprise of the feeling. She gulps down, reassuring she is only nursing him, pushing back the resurfacing mating instinct. Hefty sized breasts envelope Paul’s face, parting above his chin to leave him a crack to breathe through. She massages her breasts, making sure they cover his head completely. What she is doing seems to help, the fresh feeling of cool, soft, plump flesh with hint of sea breeze pushing the fever away from his mind to his member. More and longer the Penguin harpy smothers him with her fat bird tits, hotter and bigger his phallus grows.

“It works!” She exclaims with feeling of achievement. Now that the bad energies have gathered to single point, she needs to eject them from Paul’s body and he should feel better.

The fully erect phallus twitches in anticipation, becoming redder than the quilted coat Paul is resting. Penguin Harpy lifts her breasts from his face, releasing him from the marshmallow heaven and climbs on top of him. Crawling across his chest on all fours she stops before the infected penis, bulging and twitching like being stung by manticore poison. She pokes the tip with her finger, flicking it. It towers straight, stubbornly like taunting her attempts to conjure the foul energies out.  Shuffling forward a bit, she sits on Paul’s chest and leans forth. The hefty, plump breasts descend around the meat tower, swallowing it up. She moans, it burning hotter than his forehead. Enough to counter the coolness of her skin, thin layer of sweat forming on her cleavage. She won’t fail now, lose to this malicious spirit possessing his penis.

Pressing her breasts together hard she prevents it from escaping and begins to pump up and down, squeezing it out of bedridden man. She works hard, pressing, lifting and pushing her breasts with vigor. With each rhythmic cycle, the swollen tip taunts her, peaking from the soft flesh, showing no signs of surrendering to her. Instead she feels her own chest growing hotter. Determined she plants her lush behind on Paul’s chest, the tailfeathers tickling his chin. Putting her back to it, she begins to bob her upper body on the penis. Whole weight of her chest envelopes the member, pressure creating a vacuum which sucks it deep within the moist cleavage. Her breath comes ragged, her own heat rising from within her in par with the heat of his penis.

Finally, the twitching becomes noticeable even through her vigorous paizuri. Penguin harpy slams down her breasts one last time, resulting thick stream cum spurting out between her cleavage. As last rope of cum blasts out, almost simultaneously Paul awakes from his fever slumber and is greeted by faceful of penguin tail. He struggles to grasp the sudden situation, drowsy from the sickness.  Clearing the honey dripping tailfeathers from his face, he traces the backside upwards with his gaze until meeting with the Penguin Harpy’s gaze. Strings of cum cover her features, the motherly smile having reverted inside her having completed her nursing, replaced with the lustful smile of mating call. And thus goes third and fourth day.

Personal_log_entry_137: I reported long black-out, which I spend several days fixing on the stations log. Not a lie per se, fixing the pylons was quick job, but reaching them just took long. I… decided not to mention what really happened. It will be our secret. She stayed back at her cave. I do not know what to think. I can’t just leave her, that would be assholish thing to do. But appearing at the main base with a penguin on arm would rise several questions. I might try to apply to ornithology sector, there is clearly much we don’t know about local wildlife. There is rumours circling about those guys, I used to laugh at them, but maybe there is some truth behind them after all.

Personal_log_entry_138: Second crew arrived on the morning. They seemed worried since I had gone unresponsive after the blizzard, but I gave them the same story I wrote on logs. They relaxed after that. We had some friendly chatter, nothing seemed out of ordinary and they got to the work. Their team leader did question me privately though, seemed like a new guy. Bit uptight. Scheduly guy. But got sense of humor. Asked me if I had seen any Shoggoths even. He was satisfied with my response and wished me safe travel to the main base. My team was already waiting me there. I wonder should I tell them what happened? I doubt they would understand. Well, neither would have I before this.

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Log_entry_701211: Arrived at the research station. Found the behind left researcher in good shape. Claimed that the blizzard had caused pylons to malfunction, resulting to power outage, which prevented him to answer contact attempts. His log entries seem to certify his claims, but the substitute generators never reached critical charge levels, which would cause radio connection to shut down. There is also the guideline leading to the pylons, which was cut. Cut, not worn down by weather. There is no other signs of foul play or evidence of illicit actions, so I’ll writing this down as humane error. When questioned about witnessing or being in contact with Shoggoths, researcher denied jokingly. DE-wards support this, not registering beyond average values. Only spike appears briefly before the blizzard, most likely wildlife seeking shelter but leaving soon after. We’ll double check every system before beginning the scheduled analysis. Chief-God bless us.