[succubus] Irina

The location. A plan B if it rains. The guests. The seating plan. Three versions of them. Your aunties are as far away from each other as possible. The bridesmaids and their dresses. Something not ridiculous. The food and the drinks. Vegan too. The cake. White with chocolate filling. The music. The decorations. Flowers. And even more flowers.

and, and, and

And your wedding dress. A white one with lace details and a bit of shine. A strapless dress with a sweetheart neckline and A-line silhouette. The length is long but not that long. It has to highlight everything you love about yourself and hide anything else. And a veil. You already have one. It was your mother's and grandmother's and so on. A family tradition.

Everything else can wait one day. Your shoes. The jewelry. Your makeup and your hair. Your nails. And the things that can go wrong on the big day.

The back of your head already throbs when you step into the shop. The familiar pain pulls your brows into a frown and your lips into a grimace. Your fingers around the strap of your bag tighten. The door behind you closes with a thud, muffling out the noises of the city.

"Long week?" The question comes from the other side of the shop.

"Long months," you correct her with a heavy sigh.

Your gaze settles on the woman. Her deep, cherry-red skin stands out among the soft and light colors of the dresses around her. Her black hair is pulled into a neat bun at the top of her head, between the horns that are spiraling upwards. They are a few shades darker than her skin.

"They say marriage is easier than planning a wedding," she says. "I don't believe them."

You laugh. "I don't either."

As you get closer, you let your bag fall on the couch in front of the huge mirror that hides the back of the shop.

"Come," Irina says with a wave of her hand. "Your dress is ready."

"Great," you sigh again, following her obediently to help you into the dress. "If I gained weight, I will cry."

The succubus laughs. The sound is deep and sultry. "Don't worry," Irina replies. "I have tissues and a few bottles of champagne."

Irina helps you with the dress, adjusting the soft fabric around you until it feels like a second skin on your upper body. It pushes up your chest and highlights the curve of your waist. The skirt falls around your legs in soft pleats.

"How does it feel?" She asks. "I can change a few things if you want to."

Your hands smooth down on the skirt around your waist. "It feels okay."

"Do you want to see yourself?"

After you nod, she grabs the back of your skirt to help you go out to the mirror. Your gaze lands on your own reflection immediately. The shiny details around your waist glint under the bright lights. The lace is just enough to make the dress more special, but you don't feel like a kitschy meringue in it.

"What is it?" Irina asks after a few seconds while you stare at yourself silently. "What's wrong?"

You shake your head. "Nothing," you reply. "Nothing is wrong. The dress is perfect."

"Then?"

"I'm just so tired," you tell her, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment before your attention turns back to the mirror again. "But it's really perfect, Irina. I love it."

"You look beautiful."

A smile tugs on your lips. "I am," you reply, grinning. "My tits never looked better."

Her laugh sends shivers down your spine. It vibrates through your body and stops between your legs. Your breath gets stuck in your lungs at the sudden feeling.

"That's true," she agrees. Her gaze is heavy on your cleavage. "I have a necklace you could try on."

Not finding your voice, you nod, watching her disappear and come back a moment later with a flat box in her hands.

When the box opens, your eyes widen. "Oh."

The necklace is beautiful with white and silver colors.

"Should I?" She asks, and you nod again.

When Irina steps behind you, the air changes within a moment. You don't even recognize it at first. You are too busy watching the necklace falling on your chest, following the slope of your cleavage. The glinting of the small diamonds matches your dress. Irina's fingers are warm on the back of your neck. Her long fingers graze your skin.

"It really looks good on you," she says, stepping closer. One of her hands lands on your waist while the other one slips in front of you, playing with the necklace on your chest. The feeling of her nails surges goosebumps all around your body. Your lips open, but no sound escapes your throat.

The succubus feels everything you go through. Your scent is heavy in the air, filling her senses with desire and need. You are sweet and seductive. Her chest raises with a deep breath.

"Gods, Anne," she groans. "You smell..."

You can feel her nose running across the curve of your neck and shoulder.

"Irina," you groan, closing your eyes.

Every nerve in your body is on edge. Your skin is sensitive. Her touch burns and makes you forget everything else. It's just you and her in the shop. You look like a princess in your wedding dress while she is the temptation herself. And you don't remember how to say no to her.

"You are so tense," she states, massaging your shoulder for a few seconds. You can feel your muscles melting under her hands. Your posture relaxes, and you almost fall back against her body.

"Let me help you," Irina says next to your ear. Her voice is quiet and sultry. Heat spreads across your cheeks, going down on your chest.

Your desire for her throbs in the air. The succubus feeds on everything you give her.

"Please," your answer is airy and pleading. Your eyes are still closed, so you don't see the woman's lazy smile as she watches your pair in the mirror.

For a few seconds, nothing happens. The only things you can hear in the quiet shop are the rapid beating of your heart and your ragged breathing. Irina's finger runs up and down on the slope of your cleavage, disappearing under the neckline of your dress and coming back to your collarbone. Your whole body buzzes under her soft touch.

Then you hear the sound of the zipper, and the dress around you loosens. Your chest heaves as you take a deep breath.

"Was it too tight?" Irina asks, her palms on your arms, moving up and down on your soft skin.

"No," you shake your head, opening your eyes. "The dress is perfect, Irina," you tell her again. "I couldn't imagine anything better."

A proud smile flashes on her face before her attention turns back to the reflection of the two of you. Her expression changes, and all of a sudden, you feel like prey. Irina's eyes glint with something that scares and excites you at the same time. Anticipation stretches in your chest.

"I couldn't either," she hums, tugging on the dress easily until it pools around your legs, leaving you just in your panties. The necklace still shines on your chest. Her eyes rake over your body, pausing on your breasts and between your legs. Another quick tug and the small fabric hiding your center from her hungry eyes follow the path of your dress too.

"Gods," she groans. "You are so pretty."

"Irina," you whisper her name, letting your head fall to the side to give her more space on your neck. Her lips brush over every sensitive spot that makes you shiver.

"So delicious," she groans. The sound trembles inside you. Your thighs clench for some friction.

The succubus slips her arms under yours, palming your sides until she reaches your breasts. She gropes your chest, playing with the weight of your tits. Your hard nipples peek out between her fingers. Her hold tightens around them.

"Fuck" you cry helplessly when she tugs on your nipples, and you can feel it in your pussy. The apex of your thighs glints with your juices. Your panties are soaked. Totally ruined.

"So soft," she says. "I could eat you up, Anne."

"Do it," you tell her. "Please, Irina."

Her smile is smug and satisfied. The air is hot and sweet around you. She can almost feel your taste on the tip of her tongue.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" She asks. One of her hands smooths down on your stomach. Your legs open up on their own.

"Yes," you reply, watching her fingers disappear between your thighs. Her touch is a shock to your system. It strikes through your body. "Yesyesyes."

Your head falls back on her shoulder. Your eyelids feel heavy as you watch the mirror.

Your wetness coats her fingers as her fingertips slide through your folds, opening you up and grazing your clit. Your hips jerk, begging for more.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know you shouldn't do this. In a few weeks, you will be married to someone else. You will be a wife. You should stop and leave. It was not in your plans for today.

Irina's finger finds your entrance. Teasing and torturing you.

But how could you stop? Your mind is hazy and empty. The only thing that reaches you through the fog is her spicy scent, her burning touch, and the small kisses on your neck.

"So hot, Anne," she breathes on your skin. "You burn my fingers."

"I'm sorry."

She laughs. "Don't. I love it. I want to put my tongue here." Her fingers pull back to your clit, drawing small circles on the sensitive bud. "I want to taste you here." She slides lower, spreading your wetness on your skin even more. "And fuck you with my tongue here."

The only thing that keeps you on your feet is her arm around your torso. She thrusts two of her fingers into you. Pain and pleasure rush through your veins. The muscles in your abdomen jerk, and you almost fall forward at the force. Your cry fills the shop. Your nails dig into the red skin of her arm. You can feel her muscles under your hold.

"Fuck," you groan. "Irina!"

"Cum, Anne," she demands impatiently. She fucks you with her fingers. "Soak my fingers!"

Your orgasm crushes you. Tears run down your cheeks, and you can feel Irina's tongue as she licks up the salty drops.

You feed her with every cry and moan that leaves your lips. Power gathers in Irina's body, tensing her muscles and throbbing in her cunt.

"Good girl," she hums. "Are you ready for more?"

You shouldn't. You should stop. Run and forget it ever happened.

You nod. "Please."

Even though you cum not even a few minutes ago, you feel even more needy. Hunger burns your insides, demanding you to do something. To beg. To cry.

"Are you sure you are not a succubus?" The woman laughs, walking in front of you. Her hands go to your breasts again, caressing the soft skin and grazing your nipples with her nails. Your hand slides to the back of her head. You want to pull her closer, pushing your chest to her face. Your back arches.

"So demanding," Irina smirks but gives in to your needs. Her lush lips close around your nipple, flicking the hard peak with her tongue.

"Oh, god," you groan. Hollowing her cheeks, Irina starts to suck. She coats your skin with saliva. It makes your skin tingle. Tears gather in your eyes again at the feeling.

"What's happening?" You ask her, shocked.

"One of the perks of being with a succubus," she grins, letting go of your breast with a quiet pop.

"It's amazing," you tell her. Your nipples are still sensitive and tingling.

"Just wait and see," she says, dropping to her knees in front of you. Your breath quickens at the view. Her horns almost reach your breasts, her eyes shine, and her lips are swollen. From this angle, you can see the woman's breasts through the neckline of her shirt.

"Spread your legs more," Irina says, pulling on your thighs. Her gaze is heavy on your wet folds. You can feel yourself gushing around nothing. Your walls still flutter because of your orgasm not long ago.

"Good girl." Her praise is muffled by your pussy.

Irina doesn't hold back anymore. The sight of your wet folds clouds her thoughts. Your scent and taste push her higher and higher.

Not wasting any second, her lips find your clit instantly. The impatient flicks and licks of her tongue send a shock through your body. You moan at the feeling, grinding your hips down on her face with a new-found elan. You chase your orgasm with barely any thoughts in your mind. She sucks on your clit, feasting on your desire and juices. Her chin is coated with your wetness. It glints under the lights. You can feel the effect of her saliva. You become even more sensitive, and the tingling feeling between your thighs radiates all over your body.

"Oh, fuck," you groan. "Fuck, Irina!"

Your hands snap up, grabbing her horns when you lose your balance for a second. The pull strikes between Irina's legs, ruining her panties even more. Shivers wreck her body, making her bite on your clit a bit harder. The sucking feeling on your sensitive bud and the searing pain send you into another world. Black dots dance in front of your eyes, your muscles twitch with every contract of your lower stomach. Tears continue to run down your cheeks. Your cry is hoarse and powerless.

"Ohmygod," you chant. "Ohmygod!"

When Irina stands up, she doesn't move away from you. She keeps you close while you wait to feel your legs again.

"Good girl," she praises. "You taste so good, Anne. I'm so full of you."

You mewl at her words, not finding your voice yet.

Irina really feels satisfied. You fed her full.

"I think I could make a few adjustments on your dress," she says. You can hear the meaning of her suggestion. And god, you want her again. "What do you say?"

"Yes," you croak out. "I think it's a great idea."