Roadhouse Men's Room

The cowboy's lips crash down on mine with a raw, hungry intensity, as if to claim possession over my body. I return his ardor, my hands tangling in his hair as we explore each other's mouths, our tongues entwining in a dizzying dance. I can feel his hand on my ass, squeezing and groping, reminding me of my role in this transaction.

He's paid for me, and I'm his. A part of me resents the treatment, but another, more primal part of me craves this game, amused by my own submission. As our kiss intensifies, he pushes me against the wall, and I feel the cold porcelain tiles dig into my back. He grinds against me, his erection pressing into my belly, a hot, pulsating reminder of his arousal.

Without breaking our kiss, he pulls up my shirt, his hands roaming across my bare skin, making me shiver with a mix of anticipation and excitement. I can't help but moan into his mouth as he kneads my breasts, the contrast between the roughness of his touch and the tenderness in his lips a heady combination.

The cowboy takes control, guiding me as we stumble towards the row of urinals. He pushes me to my knees, the tiles of the men's room bathroom cold and unyielding, and unzips his jeans, freeing his hard, throbbing erection. "Open wide, sweetheart," he commands in a gruff, deep voice, "and show me what you've got."

I can't help but feel a flicker of defiance, but it's quickly overshadowed by the need that courses through me. I part my lips, and he slides his cock into my mouth, the thickness of it a heady sensation. The cowboy grabs a fistful of my hair, roughly guiding me as I begin to suck him, my hand wrapped around the base, pumping in rhythm with my bobbing head.

"Fuck, that's good," he mutters, his breaths coming in heavy, panting gasps. He starts to thrust deeper, each stroke rougher and more intense than the last, forcing me to deep-throat him, the feeling of his cock in my throat making me gag. I can't help but moan around him, the sensation of his cock in my mouth driving me wild. My other hand finds its way down to my cunt, my fingers slick with my own arousal.

The cowboy's voice is a harsh growl in my ear, "On your goddamn feet." I stumble up, trying to regain my composure, but he doesn't give me the chance. He spins me around, his large hands pushing me onto the edge of the sink. "You ain't worth shit, you know that?" he taunts, yanking my jeans and panties down in one quick, violent motion.

My ass is exposed, the cold porcelain of the sink against my breasts, as I brace myself for what's to come. "You're a cheap, dirty little slut, aren't you?" he continues, as he lines up his dick at my exposed asshole. I can't respond, the words caught in my throat, and all I can do is tense up, waiting for the pain and pleasure that awaits.

The cowboy's voice is a harsh, guttural growl, "You think you can take a big dick, bitch, because you're gonna get it." I'm bent over the sink, my face pressed against the porcelain, my body **** as he lines up his cock at my tight, quivering hole. I feel the first push, and I can't help the gasp of pain that escapes my lips.

The cowboy doesn't wait for my consent. He slams into me, his size and girth sending a searing pain through my ass, and yet, I can't deny the flicker of arousal. A dark power begins to stir within me, its energy surging as I feed off the raw carnal connection we share. My body hums with an intoxicating mix of lust and power, the Succubus inside me clawing at the leash I have kept her on.

"Hold still, you fucking whore," he snarls, as he brutally thrusts into me, his size and girth making my entire body tremble. The sensation is pure agony, and yet, a dark, forbidden pleasure begins to well within me. I feel the urge to drain this man, to take everything from him; life, strength, and soul. The very thought of such depravity sends a shudder of excitement down my spine.

But I know where this path leads. I have seen it in my mother, Jolene. I don't want to become like her. "Fuck, you're tight," the cowboy crows as he begins to pump in and out of my sphincter, rough and relentless. That's one benefit of my Succubi bloodline. It always feels like my first time, always tight and pert and young.

While the allure of unleashing carnage upon the world is undeniable, I refuse to follow my twisted desires. My body shudders with each thrust, the sensation both painful and exhilarating. I can feel him reaching for a rhythm, his grunts growing louder and more ****. I push away the temptation, the energy I absorb from our encounter transforming into something pure.

"Fuck, you're taking it like a champ, huh? You like this, don't you? Being a dirty, used-up slut," he mocks, as he continues to violently pump in and out of my ass, the impact causing my whole body to jolt with each movement. I can feel it building inside him, his breathing becoming louder, more ****. He's close, I can tell.

He reaches down, grabbing my hair and yanking me up, and slams into me one last time. With a final, violent thrust, he fills my guts with his hot, sticky cum. His jizz paints the ins8de of my abused rectum, spilling out from inside me, the hot liquid drooling down the inside of my thighs.

I collapse onto the sink, panting and shaking, both from the intense experience and the sudden emotional aftermath. He stand still, savoring the feeling, before slowly pulling out, leaving my gaping asshole drooling his seed. He stands over me, a cruel smirk on his face, before he zips himself up and walks away, leaving me exposed and ****.

My body aches, both in pleasure and pain, and the realization of what I've allowed to happen to me washes over me like a tidal wave. But as I pull up my pants, the memory of the cowboy fades, replaced by satisfaction, a hunger fed, for now. Even though I'm a predator by nature, I sometimes enjoy playing the role of prey.