Like every morning since we're dating, I wake up slowly, noting with delight that, yes, Gwenaëlle is still here, at my side. That she neither is a dream, nor a product of my mind. Strange how my fears didn't fade over years, that part of me still think Gwen is only imaginary, a being born from my need to be loved.
I must admit that our relationship is… How to say it… A bit unusual?
You see, Gwenaëlle is a succubus. I know what you're thinking, but if Gwen only wished to rob my soul, I will be long dead.
In fact, contrary to what her demonic origins could suggest, Gwen is very sweet with me. Of course, we do fight from time to time, like every lovers. But even then, she only displayed verbal violence, nothing else.
Those morning where we can stay warmly snuggled up in our bed, together, are what I like the most, because that's almost the only time I can behold her true glory, freed from this mask of humanity that usually hide her real self from the wider world.
I know she only pretend to still be slipping, since succubi themselves are unable to dream, forcing them to hijack other's. But my beloved don't need to search whom dream she's going to share, I'm always happy to share mine with her.
Even if I could gladly stay longer lying down at her side, enjoying her intoxicating scent, because of today's planning, this isn't a possibility. So I softly ran the tip of my finger along her side, pleasure making her long, prehensile tail wriggling with arousal, while her wings opened slightly.
Yet, she is still keeping her eyes firmly shut, so I mischievously whisper “Can you help me remember why you gave so much effort into a fake birth certificate?”
This time, Gwen jumps out of bed, screaming “THE WEDDING!”. I never saw her freaking out like this before today.
In her panic, Gwen forgets being in her true form, and nude, for that matter. Thankfully, I'm able to stop her before she gets into the corridor… By grabbing het tail. This caused a jolt of pain instantly stopping her and making her wings to fully extend. “Remember that my parents slept in the guestroom last night, and they don't know anything of your little secret.” I admonished her. At those words, Gwenaëlle take a deep breath, before taking on her human guise and rapidly putting on some pajamas, mumbling about how much absurd she finds that she must dress-up a bit before she could go take a shower.
This wedding can't be compared with the magnificent celebrations pictured into those romance novels and movies, only being the simplest of civil marriage, a way to give our union legally knowledged. Beside Gwenaëlle and me, the only people present will be our witnesses, my parents being among them, and the mayor.
That said, with all her hard work to make this day happen, or even possible at all, this wedding is, for me, the greatest gift she coud give me for Valentine's day ; a wonderful proof that she truly is my sweet love from Hell.