I was just a regular guy, working the late shift at the gas station when she walked in. Tall, stacked, with a bulge in her jeans that I couldn’t ignore. She smiled, fangs glinting under the flickering lights. “You’re the last one here,” she purred, and I knew something was wrong.

Her name was Ava. She was a futa, a woman with a huge, pulsing cock between those long legs. She didn’t need my consent. She pushed me into the back room, her hands like vices as she stripped me down behind the cleaning supplies.

“You’re mine now,” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. “And I’m gonna pop that prostate of yours. Make sure you never get hard again.”

My eyes went wide as she knelt and unbuckled her jeans. Her dick sprang out, thick as my wrist, veined and swollen with a fierce purple mushroom head that glistened with pre-cum. my own cock, flaccid, not even a twitch.

She pushed me down on a dusty workbench, my ass in the air, cheeks apart. I traced my balls with her tongue, dripping them before sinking a slick finger into my waiting hole. I moaned as her finger explored, scissored, then flicked my prostate.

“Brace yourself, boy,” she groaned, and then she spat a thick glob on that shaft. I felt the pressure, that thick head sliding past my rim without complaint, all while I moaned out, “no, no, please.”

Her hips slammed forward. A full, devastating thrust that drove her cock deep