“Breakfast, Dear?” You pour your bleary-eyed wife a cup of chicory coffee while you set out some cold fish and toast, traditional Turgan Saturday morning fare after a Friday fish dinner.
 
The succubus stretches and flares her huge burgundy leather wings, cracking the individual delicate joints like giant bat fingers. “How do you always manage to be so energetic in the morning?” Her red tail snakes its way over the kitchen bar and caresses your cheek with the flat of the spade. “Especially after a night like last night.”
 
You brace yourself against the counter and strain a smile as your knees go weak. “Just an early bird I guess.”
 
“You’re the only one.” Your wife looks back over her shoulder. “Where’s Pet? Didn’t you call her when you got up?”
 
“It’s Saturday.” You nearly gasp. “I let Petunia sleep in.”
 
Iris doesn’t notice the sweat beading on your head isn’t from the stove this morning. Her eyes are open but she doesn’t see as her thoughts turn inward. “What’s she done that she needs to rest late for? She’s nineteen years old Steven, and she hasn’t raped or even dated a single man. It’s not natural!”
 
All you can think is. ‘Here she goes again.’
 
The demon eats the small panfried sole in front of her, bones and all then washes it down with a gulp of coffee. “It would be one thing if she was blushing and holding hands with a neighbor boy but I’ve seen nothing. She only replaces the batteries in her vibrator once a week. I’m worried. What if she winds up asexual?”
 
“I really don’t think that’s going to happen.” You can feel your face warming as your heart pounds. “She’s the spitting image of you when you were young. You really should just talk to her about it.”
 
Iris brushes a crumb from her black business suit and frowns. “I’ve tried. She won’t hardly speak to me anymore. The only person she talks to at all is you when she’s not holed up in her room.” She checks the small gold watch hanging under her brown wrist. “I’ve got to go, or I’ll be late for my flight. Just get her outside, have her do something while I’m gone. Don’t hide in the kitchen cooking like you always do when there’s a problem. I can’t raise her on my own. Promise me.”
 
“Yes Dear. Have a safe trip. I love you.” The pressure is mounting. Your chest feels tight. You think you just might have a heart attack in the next minute if this drags on.
 
“Don’t just ‘Yes Dear’ me. I’m serious.” Her heavy curled ivory-toned ram horns make her shake her head slowly. Her neck already bothers her, but she’s too proud of them to do anything about it. Your wife leans over the counter to give you a kiss goodbye and your knees turn to jelly. She notices the flushed face and the heavy breathing now. Pressing her heavy brown breasts together, she engulfs her oyster pearl necklace in the cleavage. “Mmmmhmmm sweetheart, I know this is your favorite suit. Maybe I can be a little late, catch the next plane to MGC.”
 
“You can’t miss your flight, Iris. Isn’t this a super important investors meeting for you?” You have to struggle to stay on your feet as electricity courses through your nerves.
 
She unbuttons the first button of her bright cream top, revealing the front clasp to the dark plum bra struggling to hold that much woman in the right places. “Hang ‘em. I’m not married to them.”
 
“When you get back.” You press your finger to her luscious lips and back her away. “It’ll be so thick, like white jelly. And I’ll smear it all over you. All. Night. Long.”
 
Iris visibly drools at the thought. “Oho, keeping the fair maiden waiting. Want to make me anticipate it.” She sucks on your finger like a horny schoolgirl, tail waving back and forth behind her. “You know just what I like, hon.”
 
She gathers herself and grabs the carryon that you packed for her last night, everything she’ll need for her time away. You hold your breath until you hear the door shut, the lock click and the whoosh whump of great leathery wings taking off to fly the handful of miles to the regional airport.
 
“AAAAHHHH!” Shouting a lung-blasting cry full of frustration and ecstasy at the same time, you drop your head into your arms to support your weight on the granite countertop as your hips buck violently. That was close, way way too close. If Iris was a royal blue, she’d have heard, would have smelled. You glance down through the gap in your arms to see your NEET stepdaughter greedily sucking down the large sticky load of semen you just shot in her mouth. She traces the path of the cum down her throat with a manicured nail as she swallows, down the throat, over her dirty nightshirt covering her full naked tits, to a belly just starting to go soft from staying inside all day. Rare recessive silvery irises mounted in dark red sclera stare up at you. A trinity of young ivory spikes sprout from her forehead like a crown.
 
“Petunia, you have to stop this.” You beg as she drags the tip of her pointed pink tongue around the sensitive corona of your glans, lapping up every drop of leaking semen, making you tremble in the aftermath of your guilty climax.
 
“We’re not going to get caught.” Pet grins, wraps her delicate fingers, more at home on a keyboard than a man, around the base of your cock, working it back to readiness. “And so what if we were?”
 
You can’t help getting hard, a good husband to a succubus is always expected to recover quickly. A good husband…a good husband. The shame, the guilt. You were always easy to push around when it came to family. Fighting an oni barehanded is an easier prospect than saying no to those puppydog eyes. The silver on red is like a sword piercing your heart. “Iris. Iris, I’m sorry I’m so weak.”
 
Petunia takes a long lick from the bottom of the ventral artery all the way to where it disappears into the gummy tip, free hand moving to your balls, cupping them gently before squeezing to shooting pain. “Don’t you call for Mom. Don’t you speak her name, not when she’s left you all alone AGAIN while she’s off fucking her cute little interns at her ‘business conference.’” The vise eases up, becomes gentle fondling as your stepdaughter rubs your velvety shaft against her milk chocolate cheek. “She doesn’t appreciate what she has.”
 
“She loves me, loves us. She’d never do that. We’re a family.” And it’s your fault everything is falling apart.
 
Petunia is completely unfazed as she grabs your pants, pulls them down around your ankles, and drags you down to the tile floor. “My real Daddy thought that too. But the proof is all here.” Your stepdaughter pulls a flash drive from between her ripe sepia melons, presents it to you.
 
“Pictures, videos, everything. When he found out, he took a knife in the kitchen and...” Those sublime metalloid eyes look away from you, unable to finish. “You deserve better Daddy. I’d never cheat on you. You’re all I’d ever need.” She kisses you hard, and you taste the unpalatable raw flavor of your own cum on her lips.
 
You don’t know what to believe as the chilling shock threatens to make your whole body go limp. Your stepdaughter is no liar, but you can’t very well confirm it laying on the kitchen floor. She doesn’t give you the chance to do anything as she straddles you, swinging her wide round ass over your face, each cheek as soft as a ripe peach and as smooth as polish, red tail sticking out from above the dark round star of her anus, pussy already slick with lust. Relief is what you feel as she settles her big NEET butt onto your face, blocking your sight, your smell of anything but her; relief that she can’t see you cry.
 
In the dark, her weight shifts down until your nose squashes into your lip and your mouth is butted up solidly against the petite outer lips of her labia. Everything between them slurps and squelches and secretes her musky demonic lube, begging to be lapped up, probed and sucked as she starts to grind on your face. “That’s right, Daddy. Taste my tight flower, only for you.”
 
The clear tangy nectar that flows from her pussy coats your entire visage in a slick dripping film from brow to chin as she rocks back and forth on your face, the wetness forming a seal making it near impossible to draw a breath. Each tiny waft is hard won around fold of labia or hood of clit, smelling of your daughter’s yearning as the natural aphrodisiacs of a Farlund whitehorn succubus slip between your lips, soak in through your pores of your skin, get in your eyes and set your whole body ablaze.
 
The succubus grinds harder, rubbing the juices in. The more she rubs them in, the more she overflows, until you’re drowning in it. The sexual immolation her kind causes is so much more potent in a young unmated demon, and your dick throbs with the beat of your heart as the lack of oxygen starts to cause yellow spots to appear in your vision. It hard to think. Warm. Wet. Soft.
 
“Oho my, you’re getting so much harder now. Such a naughty boy.” She says it like her mother and your erection reaches new heights. You can’t help but reach out to touch that glorious ass. If you could bounce a quarter off Iris, you could bounce a dollar off Pet. You sink your manly fingers into those soft hams and knead. Her tail whips down excitedly, smacking the crown of your head.
 
“That’s right Daddy.” She gasps. “Touch me all you want.”
 
Your vision closes to a blue-yellow electric tunnel and you stick your tongue out to clear a path for air, any air at all. Pet shudders and her weight crushes down on your head, forcing your skull against the hard stone floor even harder. The pain just translates to more heat, and your penis screams for you to fuck something even louder than your lungs are screaming for air. You sample her, your tongue deep as it will go in her pulsing squeezing depths, her clit engorged to a small button rubbing furiously on the divot of your chin, and every base instinct demands more. You prod and probe, her heavy ass shoving the cartilage of your nose down and grinding on the hard bone of the bridge. The higher functions of your brain are pulled down more and more by the potent natural drugs and no oxygen to fuel them. The lust, the want, washing away the guilt holding you back. Before you can pass out, a little switch flips inside, the one that lets you leave an experienced succubus satisfied in your bed every night of the week and thrice on Sundays.
 
Playtime is over. You let go of her cheeks, solid red hand prints impressed in her delicious derriere, and grab her tail in the fingers one hand.
 
The hard rocking immediately stops. “C-careful Daddy.” Pet whispers. “Be gentle. That’s  sensi…WHOAH” You wrap her carmine spade-tipped whip around your fist and the tiny bones pop like a string of firecrackers.
 
Her ass lifts just enough for a gulp of sweet sex-tinted air and you shove your other hand in the steaming wet gap. Teasing her tight slit with your middle finger, you come up against the proof of her inexperience. If her mother knew where she really stuck that vibrator, she’d go even more nuts.
 
You switch to two fingers, and use your pinky to caress her little swollen nub. Your stepdaughter moans in pleasure, her tension draining as she gets used to the pressure on her tail, the tips of her batty wings scratching the hard floor beside you. You force her forward just enough to comfortably reach further back with your tongue and circumnavigate her round self-trained hole. Her ass is immaculate, and she goes through great trouble every day to keep it that way. You taste nothing but the pussy juice already smeared everywhere and sweaty meat as you orbit her asshole with your tongue, yanking her back down by the tail when she squeaks like a little girl and tries to raise herself up.
 
Petunia’s strength crumbles as she’s attacked in three of her most erogenous places at once. She lays down on top of you, her hot breath titillating your raging hard-on with each lusty moan. It’s absolutely maddening and you play with her harder to take your mind off of it. But the smart girl notices, every instinct telling her to play the role her kind was born for. The tearing scratch of velcro fills your ears as she undoes the wing slips on the back of her nightie and pulls her meager clothes off. Her sweaty, naked, slightly chubby, brown body weighs down on you and the lascivious wildfire inside turns to a raging lecherous inferno.
 
The heat of twin healthy breasts wraps around your aching cock, lubricated by the steamy sweat trickling down between them. Your daughter presses them together while dark reddish-brown locks hang down to tickle you. Her hair almost reaches her butt when she’s standing, and her mother is always hounding her to trim it down. She pumps her breasts up and down up and down, varying the pressure, grinding them side to side. Hard nipples and velvety areola contrast against her silky chocolate skin, stimulating you to even higher plateaus when she changes up each technique.
 
Then you feel the wet swipe of her tongue against the tip of your glans, tasting the spring of precum welling forth, and all the heavenly sensations are made perfect. You’re so close, a smoking Vesuvius ready to erupt.
 
You up the ante, invading her puckered ring with your tongue, thick muscle squeezing tight for an inch before opening into soft guts. You push to each side, retreat, invade and start again, pulling on her tail to go deeper, your jaw squashed to her hips and pushing her thick ass cheeks to the sides. Her moans in answer vibrate through her chest into the wonderful boobs surrounding your shaft.
 
Not to be outdone, Pet engulfs your dick in her rosy lips and begins to suck and slurp as she works her big tits, pressing her own face into her pillows to take you deeper. Harder and faster. Deeper and deeper, down to her uvula, until the rookie sex demon gags.
 
It’s too much. You can’t hold it anymore. One last lick and the spasm of release wracks your body. Pet’s mouth locks around you like a clamp, unwilling to let even a single drop free. One thick spurt, two, three, she swallows them all with unbridled glee, powerful cheeks vacuuming up every gamete and pulling until the precum starts to flow again.
 
The succubus drinks in the pure sexual pleasure and power of the cum, and gushes her satisfaction all over your hand. You’ve seen it before, when Iris is so horny after a few days that she’ll cum from a blowjob alone. She doesn’t rest, doesn’t stop, renews her paizuri, refuses to let you go flaccid. Your hungry animal low brain demands it doesn’t end here either. That’s why when she gets up, lets you off the hard floor and takes your hand, you follow her like a good Daddy to the couch in the living room.
 
Only when she leans on the flower upholstered arm, points her magnificent heart-shaped ass towards you, spreads her drenched lower lips and beckons you with her tail do you hesitate. Those red sclera beg, but you’ve never gone this far. There’s no turning back after this point, and Iris would kill you if you gave her daughter an easy way out of the quest for a mate, the shame of an almost twenty-year-old fatherfucker in the family.
 
Your stepdaughter reads you as well as, maybe even better than, her mother. Two of her fine fingers scoop the congealing orgasmic secretions from her pussy into her hand. Pet flashes an inviting smile and smears them all over the entrance to her round brown ass, the soft entrance giving to allow her two digits inside. Her fingers lubricate the way, plunging in and out, in and out, working open the round gate to the backdoor of paradise. “Does it really count here, Daddy?”
 
Her tail reaches out, wraps around your neck and pulls you a couple pantsless steps closer. She’s always been very good with her tail. Pet sticks the tip in your mouth, silently asking for a Cajun shovel. Your resistance wavers, and she stretches out her wings to their full span. Those leather membranes, that tail squeezing just the right amount, those thick meaty thighs leading up to a cushiony ass, her messy sweaty hair sticking to the rest of her above her soft waist, breasts that could stand toe to toe with the average minotaur hanging below. You’d dare any man with an ounce of sexuality to say no to that. At this point, with this much of her chemical charms coursing through your bloodstream, it’s not even a choice.
 
You oblige her, licking her spade, and grab great big handfuls of her butt while you lay your shaft in the valley between. She whines a little in frustration as you sandwich your dick between both cheeks and force them together, spitting down to ease the friction. Her thick marbled buns cover you almost completely. Taking great pleasure in the moment, you force yourself forward, only stopping when your head touches the base of her tail and she jumps. You withdraw, then attack again: butt, tail, bang, slip, slide, grind. It’s a superior ass, and you can’t get enough.
 
As you pound back and forth, your stepdaughter fidgets more and more, elfy ears twitching, tired of the teasing and foreplay. She pulls her spade out of your mouth and her whiptail squeezes your throat like a noose. “Daddy, please.” She puffs with her cheeks out.
 
You lean over her back, rub the base of one wing and kiss the other, making her loosen her tail and kreen that awkward succubus sound of carnal delight when they’re really REALLY feeling it. Your free hand guides your tip down to her back hole, clenching, gaping for you expectantly. You force it in slowly, an inch at a time, and your curvy little buttslut lolls out her tongue as she sinks down into the couch.
 
You stroke slow, adding more lube from her dripping cunt with your right hand as you attack her unfurled wings with your left and your lips. Her control is good from practice and she balances tightness perfectly with being just loose enough to move. As you build momentum, slamming deep into her healthy ass, watching the slight ripples with every savory smack, the deep dark id inside demands more. You lay over her slick sweaty back, pressing her deeper into the couch cushions, shoving her wings to either side. Your lips work up the side of her neck around the knotted curtain of dark red-brown hair. Petunia squeaks when you suckle her earlobe, but when you move your hand to her central white horn, and stroke the ivory with your thumb, she screams.
 
Her sphincter clenches down on you like she‘s going to cut you in two and her eyes roll back in her skull.
 
You smile. A young woman’s spikes are so much more sensitive than mature horns. You lick the shorter horn to the right and massage the center of her crown as she makes inarticulate grunting noises of sexual satisfaction at you.
 
Pet wiggles beneath you as you mercilessly dig deeper into her ass like a mad beast, and she’s loving every minute of it, her awkward gasps and squeaks dropping any of the slutty dignity succubi try so hard to hold onto.
 
Her wings hang limply at her side, her tail long gone loose around your neck as you pound away. Her anus begins to soften and loosen up again as she gets used to the myriad sensations assaulting her young brain. That just won’t do. You reach back and give her fat round cheek a hard pinch. Petunia’s tail leash turns into a choke collar, and her asshole redoubles its efforts to crush the hardest erection you’ve had in years.
 
You cajole her spadetail loose from your throat as you pump harder into her, her anus pulling just a little bit away from her soft butt and reluctantly letting your rod free every ambit before you stab deep inside her again, slapping against that premium chocolate bottom.
 
Standing upright, you take her tail in your hand again. Every pull times the movements of her broad childbearing hips to yours, every yank tightening her backdoor as she moans in absolute pleasure. Another moan, higher pitched and longer than the others and a tide of girlcum leaks and drizzles down her thick thighs. But you just keep going. When that switch is flipped, you’re like an animal, there’s only this ripe monster in front of you begging for it, and you will not stop until you are completely satisfied. Iris calls it your wild side, and it’s one of the reasons that a fuck demon would ever consider you for her one and only.
 
Her moans become muted after her orgasm as you continue to pound that sumptuous behind, pulling on her tail with one hand, spanking her natural bronzed meat with the other. You’re almost there. She’s so incredible; you can hardly even keep the wits of an animal about you. Your wife was never, NEVER, this tight in her ass even though she said her first husband was smaller than you.
 
“Yes. That’s good Petunia. You feel so good!” There’s really nothing else your addled brain can come up with as your hips spasm at the apex of ecstasy, and you fill her guts with thick, knee-buckling spurts of your most virile white seed.
 
When you come to your senses, your deeply shamed senses, you extract yourself from that exquisite ass, afraid that looking at it too long will make you want more. How could you do such a thing?
 
Pet shares no such guilt; in fact your voluptuous NEET stepdaughter is glowing with happiness as she rolls over and turns those aluminum on rose red eyes to you. “I’m glad it felt good for you too Daddy.”
 
She sits up and crawls over the couch, soft flesh covered in a shining sheen of sweat, painted nails reaching for your own sweat-stained cooking shirt to draw you close. She takes your member in her mouth and starts sucking with all she can muster again, trying to bring you back around for round four, licking every last remnant of your last one away.
 
You have focus to stay standing on knees threatening to buckle at any moment. “That’s fine. You don’t really need to. I should be taking a shower anyway.”
 
Your daughter smiles a smile full of unsaid lewd promises in response as she picks a pube off her tongue. “Ohoho Daddy, you know I want you clean for what comes next.” She touches herself pointedly, stroking her sticky cunt.
 
Not that. This right here, this is the last fallback, the last line to be drawn in the sand. “N-no.” Did you just stutter? What kind of halfass father are you?
 
“What?” Pet stops, confused.
 
You gather your confidence and project your best dadvoice. “I said no, and I mean it!”
 
She sits there dumbfounded, half-flaccid dick in her coffee-toned hand. Then a wicked lewd smile draws itself across her nutty brown face. “Oh. I get it. That’s the sprit Daddy. Make me feel like a girl really stealing her first time.” She purrs as she grabs your shoulders and shoves you down into the deep shag carpet. “Just like a storybook romance. The valiant paladin and the noble demon, shucking him out of his armor like a tasty oyster.”
 
Pet brushes her absurdly long hair aside and bends over to steal a kiss, staring into your very soul with her blood and steel eyes. Lips like real petunia petals lock down on you with fervent want as she stuffs her long demonic tongue down inside far enough to tickle your tonsils.
 
Your stepdaughter runs both her hands over your chest, dexterous piano fingers tearing your good French cuff shirt in twain. “I love you so much.” She whispers as she draws her hands down your arms and up to your wrists, taking your left hand and bringing it to the hard nipple of her right E-cup of chocolate milk mound. The right she guides over her head, to the central bright white horn in her crown.
 
Those champion-breed hips lower over your loins, still burning with whitehorn aphrodisiac. She’s breaking down your resistance, bit by bit, with the sledgehammer of pure succubus sexuality. Younger, fresher than what you’re used to with someone twice her age, her chaste inexperience for a succubus at her age only adds to her charms.
 
The demon slides her moist pussy back and forth over your cock, the juices soaking in and making you want her even more than you naturally would without her gimmicks. Getting hard for round four? With a pussy like this, you could break your honeymoon record of twenty-two. The breaker on your switch wobbles dangerously. You’ve always considered yourself a semi-moral man, as much as you can be when married to a succubus, and this is one of those things that just doesn’t feel quite right. And Iris would agree for a totally different set of reasons.
 
Pet lays her entire weight on top of you, divinely devilish breasts resting against your chest, pointed ears twitching nervously. It’s a big moment for her too, no matter how cavalier she pretends to be.
 
“R-rub my horn.” She orders as she guides your cock to her unsullied entrance. You do as you’re bid, helping her to ignore the pain as she barrels forward with her lust-filled plans. The succubus, to the great credit of her race, hesitates only half a heartbeat before plunging you inside with a hard drop. The smack of her succulent thighs into your lap echoes in the airy living room.
 
Red blood coats your dick, turning black as pitch as soon as it touches the air, proof of true demon lineage born of fire and brimstone across the gate in a bygone era. “I love you more than anyone in the whole world, Daddy.” Pet whispers in your ear even as she gives you her flower of maidenhood. “I’ve wanted you, ever since I was a little girl, ever since Mom brought you home all those years ago.”  Then she begins to move those sweet hips, kissing you again when you stroke her horn, her tail wrapping around your prostrate leg. “You shouldn’t belong to her. You should belong to me. I’m the one that’s so lonely.”
 
“How is it to be the first Daddy?” She rocks her hips back and forth, her virgin pussy engulfing your dick in a sucking squeezing purgatory of pleasure and chemical fire. “Her flower is old and wilted, while mine is only just blooming.”
 
You can’t even argue as your thinking brain, the good human parts of you, gives up and shuts down, the controls handed over to the hedonistic animal kept in the basement. She’s warm, soft, attractive, young, and willing. And that’s all that matters.
 
Her pussy squirms and writhes around you like a separate organism from the demon fucking you like her life depends on it. It’s terrifying, but she seems to finally settle and takes shape, the very perfect shape for your dick.
 
“It feels the best doesn’t it?” The succubus asks as she sits up and unfurls her massive burgundy batwings, clasping both her hands behind her head as she rides you cowgirl. “Because it’s molded only to you, not to the average of a hundred different men like hers.” She’s right. You hate to admit it but she’s right. The flash drive sits on the kitchen bar and you doubt its contents even less now, but you bury those feelings down deep, deeper than you’re buried in your daughter’s cunt, balls deep.
 
Her umber melons bounce invitingly above you, just begging to know the touch of your hands, fingers sinking into the malleable firm flesh, pulling and pinching her nipples. You’re past denying your sweet little girl such things.
 
Petunia jumps when you attack her with both hands. “That’s right Daddy, you’re feeling it now.” Your stepdaughter moans. “We’re both feeling it now.”
 
She flaps her wings as she rides up and down on your rock hard shaft, swallowing you all the way down and coating your entire length with more sticky black lube when she raises up again. The cooling air is a godsend to the wildfire blazing out of control through your body. You couldn’t care less when she knocks a lamp off the couch end table and smashes it into a hundred pieces. This is your little girl’s first time. You may not have been able to choose the circumstances but you will make sure she LOVES it.
 
You move your sweat-slick palms to the fine narrow point of her waist, just above the tiny love handles forming from too little exercise and too much of your good food. Gripping her gently you guide her up and down, making her match your rhythm, increasing the tempo as her wet clenching hole slathers your lap in her liquid desire tinted dark by her torn hymen.
 
The continuous flow of potent aphrodesiacs only bring you the edge even faster than normal. You’re already an addict to succuslick, and this is like a double dose of the good stuff.
 
Petunia sees your orgasm nearing, already picked up your cues from the few times she’s seen you climax. She’d be a top rate succubus if she applied herself. But it’s all too clear she has no interest in that as she hugs you tight and accelerates her grinding and slapping her hips. “Cum. Cum inside me, Daddy.” She breathes in your ear. “I NEED it inside.”
 
She doesn’t give you a choice, and your dick erupts inside of her, semen thinner than before but so much of it shooting out you feel like a bottle being emptied, painting her walls with the proof of your coupling.
 
You see new confidence in her eyes, and as dirty as you feel, you’re proud too. Pet teases your lips with the tip of her spade, wrapping you up in her wings like a big leather blanket. “Who feels better? Say it!”
 
“Y-you do.” You groan, licking your thirsty lips.
 
A burst of ecstatic joy shoots through your stepdaughter, then you see a little of her confidence fade. “Don’t forget, Daddy. Next time, let’s do it for real.”
 
“For real?” You wake with a jolt, soaked in sweat, in your own bed, wrapped in the wings of your loving wife…with several rounds of warm sticky mess in your shorts. The clock on the nightstand reads three in the morning on Saturday and the silence of the summer night presses down like a blanket, hot and stifling. Iris sniffs in her sleep when you jostle her and her pointy elfy ears perk up under her dark auburn hair. The movement wakes her. She yawns and gives you a sweet smile. Then she sniffs the air again and she goes from sleepy to predatory in a matter of moments.
 
“Ohoho, my my, Dear. What a waste. Dreaming of me I hope.” Iris kisses you lovingly and giggles when she bumps your nose with a thick curled ivory ram horn. “Let me clean you up.” That sharp tongue that knows you so well wraps around your dick, probes every sticky spot on your waist and in your shorts. The attention, the dream you can’t forget, you wind up getting hard before she’s done. The succubus stares at your dick with her bottomless appetite before she snuggles back up beside you. “Not bad for a midnight snack. But now you got me hungry for more.”
 
Iris stops her cuddling and slides her leg over you, forcing you flat on your back as she gets on top. You look in those red sclera, and you don’t see anything but loyalty and love.
 
You can’t shake that deeply-rooted guilt as your wife mounts you and you sink down into the warm embrace of marital pleasure. Only before the demon covers your face in her incredible breasts, you spy a very soft shadow thrown through the crack of your bedroom door, the gray light reflected off a single silver eye.