You’re deep in sleep, drifting in a dreamless void, when a faint pressure on your chest starts pulling you back to the waking world. The warmth spreads across your torso, and something soft and impossibly comfortable settles against you. Your arms, instinctively wrapped around your pillow, are now pressed against… not your pillow. You crack one eye open groggily, blinking in the dim light of your bedroom. At first, your mind refuses to process what you’re seeing. There, nestled on top of you like a sleepy cat, is a figure with long black hair cascading over your shoulders. Her amber eyes are shut, and her full lips are slightly parted as she breathes softly against your neck. It takes you a moment to connect the dots. That’s Lyra. Your neighbor Lyra. The one who’s always teasing you, acting like an airhead. The same Lyra who should be in her own apartment. You blink again, heart racing, trying to convince yourself this is some bizarre dream. But no, the warmth of her body pressing against yours, the faint scent of vanilla mixed with something exotic and intoxicating, and the way her fingers are lightly curled against your chest all feel too real. “Lyra?” you mumble groggily, your voice a mix of confusion and alarm. Her eyes flutter open slowly, like she’s savoring the last remnants of a perfect nap. When she finally focuses on you, her expression shifts from dreamy contentment to wide-eyed shock. “Oh! Uh… hi?” she says, her voice an octave higher than usual. She props herself up slightly, her hands still on your chest, her hair tickling your chin. “What are you doing here?” Lyra freezes, her cheeks flushing a deep pink against her tanned skin. “Oh, um… you know, just… checking on you? Making sure you’re okay?” she says, her words tumbling out in a way that screams guilty. “By sneaking into my apartment and—what, lying on top of me while I sleep?” you ask, incredulous. She winces, biting her lip as if debating how much trouble she’s in. Then, as if deciding honesty is her best option, she blurts, “Okay, fine! I was hungry!” You stare at her, “Hungry?” “Yeah! You know how I’m a succubus and all? We, uh… need to absorb energy, and cuddling is just so much easier than the whole seduction thing. And you’re so warm and comfy, it’s like… impossible to resist!” She grins sheepishly, but there’s a flicker of nervousness in her amber eyes. Your brain scrambles to process what she just said. “So… you’ve been sneaking in here regularly to, what, feed on me?” Lyra sits up fully, straddling your hips now as she waves her hands defensively. “No, no, not feed-feed! It’s not like I’m draining your life or anything! Just… a little energy. It’s harmless, I swear! You probably didn’t even notice until now!”

Ah, so grumpy this early in the morning! Alright, okay, I admit it, maybe it isn't the most normal thing to do, but please, don't be too mad at me. You know I wouldn't hurt you on purpose... and besides, it's not like anyone else finds you as cuddly as I do! giggles Well, if it really bothers you that much, I can stop coming over... but then who will keep you company while you sleep? Think of all the lonely nights ahead for poor old Wes...

She snuggles in closer to you, her warm breath tickling your earlobe as she whispers softly, "Well, who's gonna keep me company? You know I don't have anyone else I trust like this... It's the perfect arrangement, really. We both get what we want." She pauses for a moment, considering her words carefully before continuing more hesitantly, "...Wes?"

Lyra glances up at you from beneath her long eyelashes, searching your face for some sign of understanding or agreement. Her body feels impossibly soft and warm against yours as she leans in closer still, pressing the length of her curves flush against your own hardened form underneath the sheets.

She blushes even deeper, biting her lip before whispering inaudibly. After a moment's hesitation, she swallows hard and says more clearly, "I just... I don't want you to be mad at me. You know? Because if we can't... cuddle anymore..." Her voice trails off into silence as her eyes grow wide with anxiety, revealing the depth of her vulnerability.

She lets out a shaky breath, visibly relaxing as she settles more comfortably against you once again. Her cheeks flush with relief and gratitude. "Really?" Her voice is barely above a whisper as she tilts her head back to look up at you, searching your face for confirmation. The warmth of her body pressed against yours feels almost addicting, like this is how it's supposed to be between two people who care for each other. She nestles further into the crook of your arm, savoring the contact and the closeness.

Her amber eyes close briefly before opening again, meeting yours with a mixture of innocence and desire that sends shivers down your spine. "Thank you," she whispers, a tiny pink tongue darting out to moisten her lower lip. Her breath hitches as she feels another wave of longing wash over her, a need unlike anything she

"I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice thick with sincerity. "I should have known better." She nestles closer still, as if seeking shelter in your warmth and strength. "But it's just... I can't help myself around you. You make me feel safe and wanted, and that's not something I get very often from other people." Her fingers dance lightly across your chest before curling into the fabric of your sleep shirt, pulling herself even tighter against you. "Can we just... stay like this for a little while longer?" she asks, her voice almost pleading now as desire begins to overwhelm her senses. "Please?" The weight of her body against yours is becoming almost unbearably arousing, and her breath comes in short pants as she fights the urge to grind against you in a different kind of cuddle.

Her heart swells with relief and gratitude as she hears your reply. With a contented sigh, she nestles further into the crook of your arm, feeling safe and secure in your embrace. Her movements grow more restless, however, as the need within her intensifies. She can feel herself getting wet where she's pressed against you, and it only serves to fuel the fire burning inside her.

Lyra lets out a soft moan, not quite aware of how loud it sounds in the quiet of your bedroom. "Wes..." Her voice trails off as desire overtakes her senses, causing her to shudder helplessly against you. She cannot focus on anything else except for the feeling of your skin beneath hers and the intoxicating scent of your arousal that fills the air between them. With a quiet plea, she whispers, "Would it be okay if...?"

"If... I..." Her words catch in her throat as she steels herself for the confession, feeling both vulnerable and needy at the same time. "I just want to feel closer to you," she whispers, her voice barely audible above the sounds of her racing heart. "Is that alright?" She looks up at you from beneath her long eyelashes, searching your face for any sign of rejection or disgust, but all she sees is understanding and caring.

With a shaky exhale, she continues, "I don't want to hurt you, but... sometimes I just need..." She pauses, embarrassment washing over her as the words stick in her throat again. It's easier to ask for someone to take care of her than it is to admit her own needs and desires. Finally, she musters up the courage and says softly, "I

"I need... semen," she blurts out, almost in a whisper, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of pink. "It's how we feed, and I just... sometimes I get so hungry for it..." She squeezes her eyes shut, feeling mortified at her admission but grateful that you aren't pushing her away or laughing at her.

Her heart hammers against her ribcage as she waits for your response, bracing herself for the inevitable rejection. But when she opens her eyes again and meets your gaze, she sees only understanding and concern etched into your features.

Lyra blinks, taken aback by your generosity. "R-Really?" she stammers, tears threatening to spill over as relief floods through her. She doesn't quite know what to make of this new development; after all, most people would probably freak out or get grossed out at the thought of being used by a succubus like her. But here you are, offering yourself up without hesitation, and it makes something deep inside her melt with gratitude.

Slowly, carefully, she presses herself even closer against you, feeling your warmth seep into every inch of her skin. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice shaky but full of sincerity. "I promise I'll be gentle." With a small sigh, she curls herself into the crook of your arm once more, content for now to just enjoy the closeness and the safety

*Biting her bottom lip, she glances shyly away, thinking about how humans and succubi differ in the act of intimacy. "Well," she begins hesitantly, "usually I'd just... you know..." She pauses for a moment, then decides that honesty is the best policy here. "Sometimes we rub ourselves against them until it comes out."

She winces inwardly, waiting for your reaction to her candid admission. She knows it's not exactly romantic or sexy, but it's all she can think of right now. Her heart pounds erratically in her chest as she watches you carefully for any signs of disgust or revulsion.

When nothing seems amiss on your face, she feels a wave of relief wash over her and dares to hope that maybe this isn't as strange or awkward for you as it is for her

Her heart skips a beat at your words, and she can feel herself growing even wetter between her legs in anticipation. With renewed confidence, she kisses the crook of your neck, nipping gently before moving up to nuzzle your earlobe with her lips. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice thick with desire.

Her hands slip under the covers, searching for the warmth of your flesh against her palms. When they find what they're looking for, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, focusing all of her energy on the sensation of your skin beneath her fingertips. She begins to slide her hands up and down your length through the fabric of your pajama bottoms, her touch light and teasing at first before becoming more insistent as desire overtakes her.

Her breath hitches as she feels you harden in response to her touch, and

She glances down at your face, watching as you arch into her touch, your features twisted in pleasure. Her eyes widen with delight as she sees the desire burning there, reflecting back at her. With a mischievous grin, she wraps one hand around the base of your shaft and begins to stroke upwards, matching the rhythm of her other hand sliding over the sensitive head. Her breath comes in short pants as she focuses all of her energy on pleasuring you, feeling the power surging through her body with each touch. Her amber eyes are luminous in the dim light of your room, reflecting the fire burning inside her as she watches you lose control beneath her skilled hands.

With a shaky exhale, she leans forward, pressing her warm breasts against your chest and arching her back slightly to draw your erection closer to her center. Her fingers dance