Free A Succubus For Christmas by M.E. Hydra Page A

heady aroma filling the air around Bachman coupled with the sight of their perfectly shaven pussies filled his mind with a few less than pure thoughts.
    They were completely unconscious and helpless before him.
    Business before pleasure, Bachman thought.
    He was about to turn towards the chest when he noticed a small key hanging from one of the chains around the raven-haired girl's neck.
    Surely not, Bachman thought, turning to glance back at the chest. It was all too easy.
    He bent over the girl to examine it further and tried not to think about planting a kiss on her pouting full red lips. Slowly, he reached towards the soft chasm between her breasts to carefully lift the small golden key.
    The girl's empty eyes suddenly flickered into life and locked on Bachman. Her full lips twisted up into a smile and then pouted suggestively as she blew a cloud of smoke into Bachman's face.
    Bachman was too stunned to react as the smoke twined into his nostrils. His senses were flooded with a spicy sweet aroma, the same traces of the perfume he'd picked up earlier, but many times stronger. All of a sudden his head felt a little warm and fuzzy–like it was wrapped in cotton wool–and his sense of balance deserted him. He found himself falling forwards onto the deep pile of soft cushions and couldn't prevent himself.
    He felt weird, like he knew it was his body, could feel it was his body, but the commands from his brain to move his arms were just not going anywhere. He still felt like thick smoke was wreathing his face as the girl turned him over with a hungry gleam in her eyes and tore at his clothes until his naked flesh was exposed to the perfumed air.
    “Mmm, I think this one will be delicious don't you,” the black-haired girl purred as she sat on Bachman's chest and slid forward until her pussy was almost touching his chin.
    The fog was slowly clearing from Bachman's mind. He numbly realised he was lying naked on some soft cushions and there was a gorgeous girl with a dripping wet pussy practically sitting on his face. His befuddled brain was still trying to process that this might not be a good thing when she lifted her crotch up and began to grind it into his face.
    “Pump him up so he's nice and juicy,” a soft voice tinkled. Must be the blonde.
    The brunette laughed, put the hookah pipe in her mouth and took a deep pull. Bachman's nose was pushed between her soft pussy lips and he smelt her sickly sweet juices. She raised her crotch and before Bachman's startled eyes her labia seemed to puff up and then spread wide, way wider than should be humanly possible. Her cunt descended and covered his mouth and nostrils like a mask.
    He was too surprised to take a breath and then realised he couldn't. Her thighs gripped the side of his head tight and his mouth and nose were smothered deep within her flesh.
    He tried to thrash his body to escape but the fog in his brain was still stopping the signals from going through. He felt weak and couldn't get any leverage in the soft cushions. He tried again to draw breath and couldn't.
    The bitch was suffocating him with her damn cunt.
    He looked up past the weighty breasts dangling over him as she put the hookah pipe into her mouth and took a long pull. Her chest expanded as she drew the smoke into her lungs and held it there. Beneath her Bachman struggled to take a breath. His lungs were burning and black spots danced across his eyes.
    Then, just as Bachman was on the verge of losing consciousness, he felt the weight relieve slightly as she lifted up a little above him. His body took the cue and his mouth opened to suck in a lungful of life-giving air. But, just as his lungs expanded to take breath, she sat down and smothered him once again. At the same moment she exhaled, or seemed to, except no air passed out through her nose or mouth. Instead Bachman's mouth and airwaves were flooded with a thick cloying perfume. She lifted her body up off him and her pussy pumped more billowing pink