Lost Succubus 18+

Chapter One

NESSOLA

The pounding beat of the club's music flows through me, pulsating in my veins like a live-wire. The back of my head thuds against the wall behind me, my vibrant red hair sticking to my sweaty back as the guy I dragged into the bathroom stall with me attacks my neck with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. It's not enough, it's never enough.

I drag my black painted stiletto nails through his shaggy brown hair and grab a fistful in my hand until I have enough leverage to pull his head back to see his face. He looks at me with needy, half-lidded eyes, and an open, panting mouth. Perfect.

"Get on your knees and eat my pussy like it's your last meal." I order him, and he obeys like a good boy.

He yanks on my thighs until they're spread wide open, making my skin tight, faux leather, black dress ride up over my hips.

"No panties, baby?" He smirks at me as he sees my glistening sex.

I arch a brow. "I don't like extra layers, they get in the way."

He groans and nips my inner thigh, making me shudder. "You're fucking perfect." I'm not. I'm a fucking nightmare, but that's not important right now. I clear my throat in impatience and he takes the hint to get back to it.

He spreads my lips and swipes his tongue down my pussy, meeting my gaze as I pant with need. My fist tightens in his hair while I push myself harder against his mouth. He dips his tongue inside my clenching cunt before sliding it up to my clit and lashing it in fast circular motions. I grind against his face, unashamed, as I chase my own release.

I've fucked a lot of men in my thirty years of life, a whole lot, and It's rare to find a man who actually knows how to eat pussy. This guy, Brent, Brett, or Ben? Whatever his name is, gets a gold star for pussy licking.

He sucks my clit into his mouth and hums, the vibrations making my hips jerk as I cry out in ecstasy. My pussy clenches in need as fresh arousal gushes from my core. I grind his face against my cunt, smearing my wetness all over his lips and chin, before dragging him up my body and tasting myself on his skin as I tongue fuck his face. He tastes like beer and mint gum, not my favorite, but at least it's not gross.

I pull a condom out of my bra and he takes it from my fingers with his teeth, holding eye contact the whole time. I won't lie, that was pretty hot.

My lower belly cramps, telling me I need to hurry the fuck up before the gnawing hunger turns into an inferno of pain. I've been through that pain before, I never want to do it again. Ever. Only I would end up with some fucked up sickness that turns my body against me if I don't get dick. Fucking figures.

I pull my dress up higher around my waist and turn around, bending over the very unsanitary toilet, until my ass is at the perfect angle. I wiggle my hips to urge him on and he doesn't disappoint. I feel his condom covered cock as it glides up and down my slit. A moment later, he surges inside, impaling me on his average sized length. I don't get the stretch I desperately crave, but it's better than nothing.

He wraps my long hair around his fist and yanks, making my back arch, causing his length to go deeper. I moan at the blissful sensation as he hammers into me, hitting my sweet spot over and over again. This isn't gentle, it's not nice, this is pure fucking at it's finest. Just two horny people chasing a primal release.

I snake my hand down my body to my drenched sex and start rubbing my clit. I clench around his cock with my inner muscles and he lets out a long, low, throaty moan. I love it when men make noise while they fuck.

He fucks me faster and harder, making pleasure explode through me. I cry out into the stall as colors burst behind my eye lids and my ears go numb. My pussy contracts against him and he thrusts for one, two, three more times before planting himself deep and following me off the edge.

When it's done, we're both breathing raggedly, and he slips free from my temporarily satiated body. I straighten my dress and attempt to smooth my hair down before I turn to him. I grimace at his appearance. He looks awful, like he just came back from battle and has been through some shit.

His complexion is sallow and his eyes are sunken in. It's nothing new. Every guy that fucks me looks like they just had part of their life force sucked out of them when it's over. I have yet to find a man that can fully handle me.

"Hey, Brett, let's sit you down for a minute. Okay?" I coax him to sit on the toilet, his now flaccid cock just hanging out.

"Rhett." He mumbles, barely audible.

"What?" I get him situated on the toilet before he passes out and busts his head open. Yes, that has happened before. A few times.

"Name... Rhett." He whispers raggedly before his eyes roll back and he loses consciousness.

"Oh. At least I was close." What kind of name is Rhett, anyway? It sounds like the noise a dog makes before they throw up on carpet.

I push him back a bit so his body leans against the toilet back, keeping him from slipping off. Once I'm satisfied that he won't dive head first into the floor; I grab his wallet from his jeans and take out his cash.

"Two hundred, not bad." I say to myself as I count it out and slip it into my bra for safe keeping. I place his wallet back where he had it before leaving the bathroom, smirking at the wide eyed attendant on my way out. She'll use it as her spank bank material later, I'm sure.

I leave the club, avoiding grabby hands as I go, feeling good about the sex revamp and the cash. I'm aware it's wrong that I just robbed that guy after my pussy made him comatose, but I do what I got to do.

I can't work at a regular job because I get fired from every one I get for fucking in the work place. And no, I can't just keep my legs closed, it's not a choice, my body forces me to do it.

I also can't work as a pro because the bitches that work the streets here are territorial as fuck. Selfish twats. I don't want to have to work for some pimp and have to hand over most of my earnings either. No thanks.

So, I steal money from my hookups since I would like to have a roof over my head and food in my stomach. Being homeless and penniless sucks ass, and not the fun kind. I've been there and done that, not looking for another repeat. I refuse to ever go through that again. Poverty can suck my tit.

I've been on my own for sixteen years, ever since my twat waffle of a mother kicked me out when I was fourteen. Of course, she did come home and find me riding my step father, Doug, like a rodeo champ. It wasn't my fault though, like I said, my body literally forces me to have sex.

I tried to ignore the pain that day, but it became unbearable. My stomach cramped so bad it felt like Freddy Krueger was let loose inside me. My head was swimming and I was pouring sweat from a high fever. I thought I was dying. Something inside me just knew that a nice hard cock would make it all go away.

I was delirious with need. My body acted without my control, and the next thing I knew, Doug was pants down on the couch and I was sliding my virgin pussy down his thin cock. He was an active participant though, if the way he grabbed my hips and fucked up into me was any indication.

Right as I reached that blessed screaming O' from my first penetrative orgasm, mommy dearest walked in. She beat me black and blue before dumping my crumbled body outside our trailer, snarling at me to never come back.

Her kicking me out wasn't all that surprising. She's always hated me. She was steadily searching for a way to get rid of me without looking like the bad guy, and I gave her one on a silver platter. You're welcome, bitch.

I couldn't go live with dear old dad because I never met the guy. Mom didn't even know what his name was. So, without anywhere else to go, I slept in shelters and under overpasses until I got my first job waitressing. I saved up enough to rent a room from a chick off Craigslist. Then I lost that job for having a threesome in the kitchen with the line cooks and it was back on the streets for me.

That cycle repeated itself until I finally wised up a started taking money from conquest's wallets. Now I sleep all day, party all night, and fuck who I want. My life is good, I'm not complaining. It could always be worse, so I'm grateful for what I do have. Sure, I'm not swimming in luxury, or have anyone who cares about me, or anything to look forward to, but at least I'm not hungry or curled up in agonizing pain. A win is a win.