I shifted slightly and gasped. That was going to be a recurring theme, I could feel it. Every time I moved even a little bit, I could feel her inside me, blasting every sensitive nerve with so many sensations it was making thinking hard and drooling easy. I managed to focus on the right one, though, and very gently lowered myself to kiss her. Only a small gasp that time. Progress. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked. I was never going to get over how concerned she was with my well-being. Not that it was something I wanted to get used to, but it was jarring. In a good way. She actually cared, and that was wonderful. I made a satisfied sound. 

“Amazing,” I said softly and kissed her again. “Not quite overwhelmed yet.” It was true. As much as I felt like every nerve in my body was on fire and my brain was not so much in freefall as it was entering low earth orbit at mach three, I felt… fine. There was no anxiety about things being Too Much, no fear of losing myself. I wondered what that meant. “I’m… weirdly okay with all of this,” I said, musing, and I sat upright. I was going to say more things but this was a new position and I hadn’t considered the fact that the angle would push things into other things and that new places would be rubbed and possibly even deeper and--

I tried to say something but what came out of my mouth was a primordial moose-call of a groan as I’d inadvertently shot a railroad spike from my groin all the way up into the language center of my brain. Madeline moaned softly and then immediately laughed at the sound I’d made. When I recovered, I shakily put my hands on my hips, trying to look indignant. “L-- look. I’m new to all this, okay?”

She put her hands on my thighs, looking up at me with adoration. She was so beautiful, her hair splayed out on the bed, her jet-black lips curved into a smile that could sink a thousand ships and the last of my brain cells. “Go on,” she said softly. 

“I just… I’m clearly very horny now.” I accentuated my sentence with a very slight flex of my hips and I saw her eyes unfocus for a hot second. If it hadn’t felt so good I would’ve been able to feel a lot more smug about that. “And I’m wondering, like… did my transformation do that? Was I always going to be like this?”

Madeline nodded and propped herself up on one arm, pulling me down with the other. We met and kissed halfway. She leaned back again. “It’s a good question to ask. There’s no definite answers, I don’t think. I mean, nobody’s done any scientific studies about succubi in a millennium, at the very least.” She sighed and looked down at herself. “I think, and take this with a grain of salt, that there is a difference between before and after a succubus transforms for the first time.” Uh oh. That’s what I’d been scared of. Had I been basically turned into a slave of my desires? Would I get so hungry for sex that it would become who I was, override my identity? She saw the worry on my face and I told her what I was thinking.

“No,” she said calmly. “I work in a library and I don’t go out much. There’s a few people from out of town I see every couple of years, and when we meet, sure, we go to town.” I filed that away as something to ask her about later. There was a small pang of jealousy there, but I’d only known her for like, a day. Another something to talk to her about. “But I don’t have an ‘aching need’ or anything. I can feed off books just fine, and I prefer it to meaningless fucking. So no, I don’t think your personality was changed. What I think happens is that you become a lot less inhibited,” she paused for dramatic effect, “when it comes to realizing and understanding your own desires.” I nodded, trying to wrap my head around the changes and what those meant for me. “There’s no personality change that isn’t just… a boost in confidence.”

“Are you saying I’ve always been really hungry for a pounding but I just didn’t want to admit it to myself?” She grinned in response. “Are you calling me a slut, Madeline?” I asked with a playful pout. She shifted her hips, put her hands on mine, and thrust up, which caused at least two supernovas and possibly an imploding black hole. 

“Do you want to be?” Oh, what monstrous evil had been cast on me. What infernal creature played with me so? I leaned over with what I hoped was a threatening snarl, though the sound coming from my mouth might as well have been a kitten’s meow. The smug look on her face told me she knew exactly what the answer was. 

“Listen here you,” I said, and then realized that I had a much better way to retaliate than with words. I sat upright again and shifted my hips, rolled them around. Her grin dissolved like an ice cube in soup -- I was going to have to revisit my metaphors once she wasn’t balls deep inside me -- and I used her groans and moans to guide my movements. What little mental faculties I had left, I devoted entirely to my desire and affection for her, broadcasting it loudly and happily. 

She squeaked, and my eyes shot open. I didn’t stop moving. It would’ve taken a forklift and at least two sledgehammers to get me to stop riding her, to stop that wonderful feeling of fullness I was now so in control of. But she had definitely made a very cute noise. I looked down at her with glee, and gently cupped her breasts and squeezed. Another noise.

“That is adorable,” I said, and started playing with her nipples. It was truly delightful, and I felt well and truly in charge. She whimpered a few times and I could feel her shuddering underneath me. She’d been teased for what felt like hours now without release, and I wondered how close she was, if I was going to be able to push her to that edge of sanity and then dropkick her over it. There was, after all, a tool still at my disposal. 

When I caught her eye, I licked my teeth with what I hoped was dramatic sexiness, and then lowered my mouth to her chest. Going by the groaning noises and the hands on my ass, I’d succeeded. Her fingers expressed a need that her mouth, too occupied with guttural moans, wasn’t up to the task for. She thrust up into me and her soft stiffness was like heaven. Hellishly divine. I made sure to meet her halfway every time, the impact driving us both wild as my brain slowly turned off all non-essential functions so I could enjoy every second of this as much as possible. 

Still coming down from my previous high, I wasn’t sure I was going to be coming any time soon, but she certainly had me going and I redoubled my efforts, biting her nipples softly before kissing them, as if to apologize for the roughness, before starting all over again. 

Her breathing became more shallow, rasping, almost and her hands left my butt. I was about to make a sad noise when I felt both of them grab my horns. All breath escaped my lungs as she wrapped her hands around my brand new erogenous zone and I couldn’t focus, couldn’t think, could barely breathe as she gently yanked my face up to kiss me. I was sure I was drooling that time. No think, only feel. 

Then, she did something I didn’t even know was possible. I felt the familiar pressure of her fantasies coming in, but what I saw was not an abstract idea or her imagination. In fact, there was no image at all. But there was feeling. I was on my back, a weight on my chest, hands kneading my breasts. Much more pressing (heh) was the fact that I was clearly deep inside someone else, and I was close to bursting. The need for release was all-encompassing and all-consuming and, much more importantly, all-present. Every fibre of my being wanted to fill up this girl that I’d recently found, that I’d decided to take under my wing before so much more happened…

With a jolt I was back in my own body. Madeline wasn’t sharing her fantasies. She was broadcasting her feelings and sensations, and it was overwhelming and amazing. Even now, her feelings were overlaid on mine. I gasped. I panted. My brain was firing on all synapses and then some. I shuddered, gasped, as I was simultaneously fucking and being fucked, filled and filling. My mouth fell open in a need to express something, anything, but I was completely done for. 

She had been close to the edge, had been for a while now, and I could feel it. She was close, so close, and it was driving both of us wild. I knew and felt what she needed and kept the rhythm going as I redoubled my attention on her chest. Easier said than done, her hands still on my horns driving my attention away from what I was doing. Then it came to me. I focused on that. Focused on that feeling, on what her hands did to me, on what her being inside me did to me, on what she did to me, and tried to visualize it, imagine it, broadcast it loudly. That was it.

Her mind exploded, and mine with it. Like a cascading detonation, every blast exacerbating the next, I spasmed on top of her, groaning her name like it was the most profane, the most sacred word in the world. Both of us feeling each other’s ecstasy, we clawed and pawed at each other, our ability to function blown away in a blizzard of unimaginable power. 

I wasn’t ready for her coming inside me, for the feeling of fullness, for the warmth that exploded inside me. I cried, gasped, laughed and whimpered all at once, choking on the sensations, which fed back into her, further elevating her climax. She kept fucking coming and it kept blowing my mind and I was sure I was going to either black out or die. Sensations ravaged us for what felt like ages, until her soft spasms started to die down and my brain basically flicked off the last switch keeping me upright. I slumped off her with all the grace of a toppled grain silo. She didn’t even move, though we both gasped when she slipped out of me. I lay next to her, panting. I wanted to do something romantic, like look over to her, cup her face and tell her how beautiful she was, but I wasn’t able to. I needed to spasm a bit more, and maybe mourn the emptiness I now felt inside me. 

“Whfllk,” I said, and realized that the connection between my mouth and my brain was spotty at best right now. Network connectivity issues aside, I did manage to move just enough to, ever so gently, touch the back of her hand with mine. She moved a single finger, caressing, and eventually we did manage to turn to each other. Our chests rose and fell slower and slower as we regained our faculties. 

“Hi,” Madeline finally said, and we very gently knocked our horns together. Like this, relaxed and spent, it felt less like a gentle tap to an erogenous zone and more like a kind of kiss, one that was unique to us. It was nice. 

“Hmm,” I said, content as all hell. “That was good.” It was the best I could do with the reason currently at my disposal. 

“Very,” she said. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm-hmm,” I nodded. “Very.” I paused, trying to scrape a single thought together. It wasn’t happening and just happily pressed my forehead to her shoulder. She sighed contentedly, and I slipped and fell into unconsciousness.

Elamimax

The horned horny continues! I love these two <3

Look, I have no idea what I'm doing. The point is that I'm very grateful to have you all as my readers. It's been helping me get through a lot of things and is actually paying for my medication at this point, which is just... mindblowing! If you want to support me on Patreon I'd be very grateful. It means I get to write more of this, and you get your wholesome smut :) A small donation already goes a very long way, and bigger donations get to commission stories off of me, so please have a look around! You also get access to story drafts before they go on here, sometimes days or weeks before they're published!

Anyway, that's enough shilling. Well, almost enough. I'm on a discord server of the ever-prolific QuietValerie (right here) where you can find her wonderful stories, like Ryn of Avonside, Falling Over and The Trouble With horns, as well as other authors' works, and talk about them with fellow fans, and even the authors themselves! I heartily recommend joining it and reading their works!