What would the night be like were it personified? It would be vast and enveloping, clad in darkness; an inviting enigma facilitating the release of all inhibitions. It would be cold yet beautiful; it would be as lethal as it was lascivious. It would enthrall, ensnare, and entrance. To be the night would be to offering everything yet nothing simultaneously. To be the night would mean to be a woman.
         Her breasts accentuate her femininity, easily the first things to be spotted. Rounded orbs, reside upon her chest; their full, tumid shape alone teasing at surrealness. Their size follows through with this idea, fantastically large yet far from unsightly. Projecting forth from her body, they fill out even her most forgiving of blouses to the extent of testing their limits; they border the limits of humanely possible, spurning the notion in their overt defiance of gravity. One might say they are as the divine powers intended, being angel soft and temptatiously grabable. However she is not without support. A trim midsection stretches out from just below her bust, a soft plane of flesh with only the barest of sculpting, slight traces of muscle formed from regular exercise. The sweeping curve of her toned abdomen, as though framed on each side by crescents, define her narrow waist before it fans out to complete her lower body.
         Like the horizon, her hips spread out from her waist, epitomic representations of fertility yet they are the first signal to her predatory nature. They are curved blades, switching and swaying as she hunts, setting her whole body in motion. Whether it is the slight jounce of her breasts or the friction of one thick thigh or another, her hips would bewitch all who dare to watch their hypnotic sway. Low cut pants or skirts often sit low upon them, normally showing off the natural incurve of her pelvis leading down to much more private affairs. Regardless of the lower garment she chooses to wear, it does very little to hide her large apple shaped backside, as it takes off from her lower back; the top curve being just as defined as the bottom. This makes the task of filling out any pair of pants to the brim very easy.
         A feat also made effortless by her legs. They are the pillars that stretch up from the earth to hold the night itself up within the sky. It is their graceful gait that causes her breasts to jiggle with each step and the motion in her hips. Their smooth, hairless length alone is enough to make her look like a model, yet their shape and definition make it hard to think otherwise. Thighs are made thick by estrogen and calf muscles made bulky from exercise; her legs possess an overall toned, athletic shape while managing to maintain a long and slender look relative to her frame that teases 6'4. Her feet could be considered large though given her exceptional height they are not out of proportion. High and long arched soles run along the bottom of her in her feet ending with delicate, curled toes bearing a white French pedicure; both traits perfect for wearing open toed high heels to any occasion where she might flash her hauntingly beautiful smile.
         The smile of a creature such as her could be indicative of many things: her fascination, her appreciation, even her indignation. The full, pouty lips that orchestrate these expressions, however, are often kept in a demure almost stoic state of neutrality. Carnation in hue and tasting of sugar, these petals of flesh produce their own natural gloss, causing them to appear perpetually moist and shiny. They are the first signs of spring against her winter white skin; her unblemished and perfect complexion not only vanilla in color but possessing its faint taste as well. From lips to skin her body absolutely begs to be kissed or licked; anything to draw in her prey. Her eyes are full blood red moons that sit just above a small nose; the two features conjoined allowing for a face that looks almost doll-like; her countenance bearing an eerie elegance. Midnight flows forth from her head to cascade down her body, ending at her lower back; silken bangs drape down to eye level, swept slightly to the right while two locks frame the sides of her face just in front of her ears.
         Everything about her invites you in; the natural scent of vanilla that clings to her body, the voice of a siren that can bend even the most chaste, the visage of an angel yet the salacious body and curves of a devil. A true queen of the night stands before you. To be a vampire is to be a murderess; to be a succubus is to be a temptress; to be both is to be a seductress who knows only of desire-her desire and seeing to it that she gets -exactly- what she wants by any means necessary.