The encounters and developments of four succubi whose lives are tightly entertwined.
“Tis the season to be slutty, fa la la la la~”
Uchinaga Aeri admires the throng of drunken revelers dancing beneath her feet from her balcony. She drinks from her wine glass, the alcohol sending warmth down her throat as she swallows. Loud techno beats blast from the overhead speakers, the multi-colored lasers waving in their arcs across the walls. The dance floor is as full as always, just as it is every night.
“Miss Uchinaga.”
A waiter appears behind her with a bottle in hand. Aeri raises her glass, and he refills it with more red wine.
“Mm. Thank you, dear.”
“My pleasure, Miss Uchinaga.”
Even on Christmas, the club is just as busy as it would be on other days. Aeri giggles to herself—it just meant more prime specimens to scout out for. She takes a glance at the giant neon sign bathing her club in a deep red.
La Fontaine De Jouvence
Aeri downs the glass of wine and leaves it on the parapet of the balcony. She takes in a deep breath—multiple scents register in her senses. Nothing escapes her notice, not when she owns the entire building. She has eyes on every nook and cranny of her club.
‘Oh, the folly of youth. Drugs, alcohol…’
Eyes flash bright green.
'Sex.’
She’ll definitely have her share of the fountain tonight.
Christmas Day means nothing to the wild youths of the party scene—it is nothing but another excuse to live hard, party harder. After all, holidays should be celebrated to its fullest extent, right?
You step into tonight’s nightclub of choice—’ La Fontaine De Jouvence’. You scoff at the idea of the pretentious name. The Fountain of Youth? It’s just a nightclub, nothing fancy about it. Who, in their right mind, would name a club like that?
A shake of your head, and you dismiss the thoughts. You’re not here to ponder the intricate thought processes of a nightclub owner anyway; you’re here to drink, maybe do some drugs, show your moves on the floor, and pick up a bitch whose pussy you’re going to fill with your cum for tonight. It is with that thought that you step down to the bar for your first drink of the night.
Reach the bottom of the stairs. Take two steps to your left to move past the couple making out. Take another two to the right to slide between two partygoers with snow still on their nostrils, dancing. You’re right at home in this chaos. Christmas parties at the clubs are always pure fun due to the relaxed societal restrictions—the women are allowed to dress as slutty as they want to, and you’re definitely leering at any of the Santa girls dancing around you. You drool at the sight of one of them drunkenly twerking to the loud bass emanating from the speakers, your cock hardening as her skirt rises up to reveal bare skin, her pussy out for all to view. Another girl next to her grinds against a man, and you’re wishing you’ll be as lucky as he is when she grabs his hand and slides it under her top. You reluctantly tear your eyes away from the free porn and hop onto one of the seats at the bar.
“Gin and tonic, please.”
You eye the bartender up and down when she turns to prepare your drink. Light brown locks cascade down her back. She’s dressed in a Santa outfit, just like most of the other girls here are wearing, and you stare at the little strip of skin between her top and skirt. Your eyes roam next to her thighs—the skirt she has on ends mid-thigh, and you smirk at the thought of this girl, bent over the counter as you fuck her with that skirt on.
When she turns around to you, you’re met with one of the prettiest faces you’ve seen. Bright doe eyes above a cute button nose, with a pair of red luscious lips, you’re instantly enamored with whoever this bartender is. The cherry on top is the red bunny ear headband she wears, topping the look off with a seductive finish.
“Here’s ya gin and tonic, handsome!”
The wink she sends you has you almost drooling.
“Thank you, beautiful.”
The bartender giggles, and she bats her eyelashes, a coquettish grin across her angelic features.
“You’re welcome!”
When she busies herself with other orders from other patrons, you sip your first drink of the night slowly as you check her out. Your eyes follow her every step of her way—you whistle softly at the sway of her hips in that sinfully short skirt, your eyes devour the peek of cleavage whenever she bends over to pick up something from under the counter, and her long legs have your cock twitching as you imagine them wrapped around your waist during sex. Sure, she has knee-high boots on, but you’re damned sure she’s definitely fucking hot from top to toe. You grin at the bartender when she turns back to you, and she returns a seductive smile, her eyes somehow bright in the dim venue.
What escapes your notice were her eyes flashing orange when she looked back.
The more time you spend sitting at the bar, the more you feel your lust growing. All of it is directed at the bartender whose name you still don’t know, and you’re feeling exceptionally warm. The cool air of the strong air conditioning helps a little, but you’re definitely feeling hot and bothered.
“Is there somethin’ wrong, dear?”
The bartender appears in front of you when you’re wiping your sweat. The shock has you jumping, and the girl giggles.
“Oh, sorry~. Ya looked a lil’ sick, are you okay?”
You’re drooling way too much at the way she bends over the counter, her deep cleavage right in your field of vision.
“Uh…”
“Mm, you’re quite warm…”
She raises her arm, the back of her fingers resting against your skin. You’re inhaling copious amounts of her sweet scent—the fresh smell of tangerines is all you can register…
God, you want to lick her armpits so badly.
“I’m gonna getcha some water…
"Are ya sure ya okay?”
“S-Sure I am, beautiful.”
There’s a tinge of disbelief in her grin, but she doesn’t bother to call you out. Instead she passes you a cup of iced water, and bends over in front of you again, her chin resting on her palm, a smirk over her face.
Her eyes flash orange—
No, that must be a trick of the light.
“You’ve been staring a lot, handsome…
"Do ya like what’cha see?”
The scent of tangerines grows stronger—
You’re drowning in it—
“How about you come meet me at the back after my sh—”
“Ning.”
Both you and the bartender look to the source of the interruption—
Your jaw drops.