The Diner


In a rainstorm, a man follows a pretty girl into a diner. What follows may surprise you.

Isn’t it funny how a place can be everything to you, and then nothing. When I was in college I used to be here every night, grabbing a burger from the diner on the corner, or buying cheap beer with my friends in the grotty bar where a cockroach once fell from the ceiling into Gary’s half full glass.
But I haven’t been here in years, and things have changed. Or maybe I’ve changed. I see a group of students spill out of an arcade, which is closing, and cross the road jostling each other and whooping. It’s a balmy night in Summer, the clouds blanketing the sky only adding to the sense of claustrophobia. When suddenly the clouds break into a steady rain, the students tear off around the corner and out of sight. I am alone.
Looking around for shelter, I spot the old diner on the corner. The structure is the same, but it’s obviously under new management as the signage has changed, and not for the better. It’s dry though, and I jog across a parking lot to the door in the hope it’s still open for business. I figure I can sit out the worst of the storm, and if I’m honest I’m enjoying the nostalgia.
Just as I reach the door I hear the sound of high heels on sidewalk, and I turn to see a girl in her twenties in a light sundress – she wasn’t expecting the rain either. I hold the door for her and she flashes a beautiful smile as she trots in without breaking her stride. My eyes rest just a little too long on her shapely bottom, the thin material and the rain leaving little to the imagination. She glances back at me, but I’m pretty sure I got away with it as I step inside.
She continues to a booth in the corner, and I head in the opposite direction, trying not to look like a creep.
Sliding into a booth of my own I pick up the menu, but take a minute to survey the room. There’s a single middle-aged waitress in a frumpy dress running a checkered cloth over the counter. I don’t recognise her.
There’s a young family in the booth by the door – the father is square jawed, with thick fingers gripping a beer. His wife is conventionally pretty and blonde, skinny and retiring. She’s picking her way through a salad. Their kids are twin girls, maybe 19, dressed identically in denim dresses with pink converse sneakers. Small breasts are evident, but their hips are slim and boyish.
Just as I start thinking about ordering a coffee, I hear the restroom door open and close, and a rat-faced youth in his twenties walks across to the empty booth next to the girl and sits down, leering at her in a most unseemly way. Her smile is too kind, I feel. He has hairy arms and an overbite, and it looks like he hasn’t showered in a while. “Mom,” he yells, “Bring me a shake, will ya?” I realise he’s talking to the waitress, who complies sheepishly. Ok, I officially hate this guy.
Milkshake delivered, the waitress gathers a burger and fries from a hatch into the kitchen behind and delivers it to the twins, who hungrily tuck into the fries. I raise my hand and try to catch her eye. Without looking up, she calls out in a shrill voice “I’ve already got your order, honey.” This makes no sense to me, but something in her tone tells me she’s none too fond of me, and I decide that discretion is the better part of valour. No-one likes spit in their food.
Rat-face kneels on his seat and bends over, cupping his hand to whisper in Sundress’s ear. She listens, then throws back her head and laughs; her hair is drying out and falls in gentle curls on the fake red leather of the seat. I bristle. Am I jealous?
The waitress brings over a milkshake on a round tray and puts it in front of me. “What is this?” I ask, but, scowling, she’s already turned around heading back to the counter. I sniff the shake. What is that, raspberry? I would have preferred coffee, but I guess this will do. I take a sip through the thick straw. I’m still not sure what the flavour is exactly, but it is delicious. Creamy, not too sweet, thick and malty. As I suck I look up to see that Rat-face has sat down again and is enjoying his own shake. Sundress is looking at me, and when she catches my eye she smiles. Am I imagining things, or is that a wink?
From the back of the diner I hear a door again – this time the swing door from the kitchen. Moments later, rounding the corner is a woman, completely naked. She has large but buoyant breasts with thick nipples. She has full hips that sway as she walks. Also, her skin is ruby red. And she has a tail. She walks right up and slips into the seat opposite me.
“Where are the horns?” I ask.
“Don’t be trite,” she replied, “that would be ludicrous.”
I never realised a succubus would be so easy to spot.
“Well,” she started, “I am Salome. I apologize for the abrupt introduction. In the time of the old gods you would have walked a gauntlet of 20 virgins pissing a fountain over your head and crossed a moat of wine to dine with 50 philosophers each balls deep in a shapely catamite. But times move on, so here we are.
“These days it’s more sinister and personal, all about the systematic destruction of your character. Case in point, meet here young Steven.”
She gestured to indicate rat-face, who had obsequiously sidled closer, and was now hovering like a child whose parent was asking a shopkeeper for the good candy.
“Steven would like nothing more than to deflower a straight man, preferably against his will. Think of me, if you will, as lubrication for such shenanigans, but my role is transactional. Steven has offered as his end of the deal the violation of his mother, Flo.”
A tip of her head indicated the glowering waitress. “While she is clearly not with us in spirit,” the succubus continued, smiling at Flo’s increasing disgust, “she has agreed to this on condition I ensure this is pleasurable for her. She loves her son a great deal, notwithstanding his obvious flaws, and is unhealthily indulgent.”
“To secure your participation in this little exchange, I am more than willing to pitch in,” she said, absentmindedly pinching her left nipple between her middle and ring fingers like a stubby cigarette. “I assure you I am extremely adept at giving pleasure. But I sense your desires may lie elsewhere.” She trailed off, following my eyes.
“Darcy is quite fetching isn’t she. She was brought up in a Christian fundamentalist household, and her extensive early sexual experience kept her vagina for Jesus, but gave her arse to all comers, if you’ll excuse the pun. As a result she’s left unable to climax without something up there – word to the wise. At any rate she’d be thrilled to have you.”
Darcy gave me a coy wink as if to reinforce.
“As for them,” Salome pointed a lazy index finger at the family, “there is more than one transaction at play here tonight. Plenty of perversion at that table. I haven’t let them see me just yet.”
With that, she sat back and crossed her fingers behind her head, causing her nipples to point at me in a most distracting way. “Are you in?” she finished.
“So let me get this straight,” I say finally, “I get to fuck Darcy, but only if I’m the filling in this prick’s mom sandwich?”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“And if I say no?”
“Well let’s just say I can make good things happen to bad people or bad things happen to good people.”
I take a deep breath and consider. Now I really fucking hate this guy Steven, but there is something arousing about Flo’s willingness to surrender herself to the tender mercies of the sex demon. And then there’s Darcy. I’m not thrilled about the prospect of being penetrated, but it seems that is inevitable… Perhaps as a willing participant I can still affect the outcome.
I nod.
“Excellent,” calls the succubus, rising immediately. “Now that that’s settled, let’s start with a little family entertainment.”
As she turns, her tail poised over her shoulder liked a tamed cobra, I get a fleeting view of her supple rear, parting to reveal dark and oversized pudenda. A primal urge is growing in me like a tiger’s purr.
Beyond her I suddenly focus on the looks of abject horror on the faces of the family. The father is crouching on his seat, back to the wall, his skin drained of all color. The mother has sunk down and is cowering with her shoulders pressed against the booth seat, eyes stretched wide. This is when I notice the faces of the twins – not horror, but mania.
“Meet Gwinny and Lula – the shit these freaks are into is something else,” the demon explains over her shoulder.
The mother, somewhat regaining her composure, is now gripping a small crucifix she has torn from her neck and is holding it in front of her like a shield. “Oh, Sarah,” the succubus laughs, “I’d be careful with that – your Jesus hurt himself on one of those.”
At a gesture, the cross begins to grow. Sarah shrieks and drops it, but it continues to grow, and as it grows turns to wood and spreads roots that burrow into the ground. Finally it slows and settles, a gnarled T six feet high. The terrified mother stays crouched behind it.
I look up to see the father, teeth clenched, charging at the demon with blood in his eyes and a table knife in his fist. I’m not sure why, but I step forward and land a solid uppercut. I boxed a little in college, so I know how to generate power from the hip. He goes down like a sack of potatoes. Salome raises her eyebrows. “I can defend myself of course, but appreciate the help.”
She lifts him easily by the throat and holds him up against the cross. Steven nails his wrists into place (where did he get a hammer and nails?). The man is stunned but not unconscious and cries out in pain. “Frank!” Sarah calls as she rises to his side, but one of her daughters restrains her while the other tears her top clear, revealing a good-sized pair of handsome freckled breasts with large and puffy nipples. “Oh mommy,” says Gwinny or Lula – I can’t tell them apart – “I’ve always loved these titties.”
With that, she latches her moist lips onto the left breast. From the expression on Sarah’s face I can tell this gives her an extraordinary amount of pleasure. I look over at Salome, and she gives me a wink which confirms she’s intensifying this experience.
By this time the other twin has used the straps from her mother’s bra to lash her hands to the booth table leg, and walks around to her father. She unbuckles his belt and lowers his jeans to reveal his manhood. He’s a lot bigger than me, uncircumcised and hairy. She gathers his heavy balls in her hand and pulls his flaccid glans into her hot mouth. He groans uncontrollably, and his erection grows quickly as she pulls back his foreskin and ruins her wicked tongue around and around his smooth-swollen cock head. “No, Gwinny,” he groans, but his voice, like his willpower, is weak.
Meanwhile, Lula has her mother’s pants off and is pumping two fingers rhythmically into her, still lavishing much attention on her now erect nipples. Sarah’s head is back and her eyes half closed. She’s lost in the illicit pleasure. Her pussy is slick and her lips are parted wide as her tiny clitoris rubs against Lula’s urgent thumb.
Frank is now fully hard in Gwinny’s mouth. As she stands up, still gripping her father’s thick cock, she slips down her pants, turns and impales herself on it. Frank, eyes glazed, grits his teeth against the pain of his tortured wrists and the ecstacy of his daughter’s tight snatch.
“Come for me, mommy. Please come for me,” Lula pleads, slipping in a third finger. Sarah’s jaw stiffens and she thrusts her pelvis into the air. Responding to the rising climax and improved access, Lula leans forward, bringing her mouth down on the vagina that bore her, and shoves her whole fist in up to the forearm. Sarah cries out and her whole body convulses in orgasm before sagging to the floor in tears.
Extricating herself roughly, Lula pulls her dress off over her shoulders leaving her nude. She grips the human crucifix that is her father by the cross bar and in one lithe move slips her legs over his shoulders and rubs her excited sex all over his mouth and nose, made slick by her juices. She’s quick to come as she yells “thank you, Jesus” for the privilege.
“Fuck me, daddy,” calls Gwinny, pumping faster and faster, “Come, daddy come! I wanna make me a little brother.” Lula dismounts, and Frank’s head lolls forward; his mind is no longer in control, but his body knows what to do. Soon thick white plops of semen escape his daughter’s pussy and fall to the floor. Lula scoops some up and fingers it in and around her vagina. Gwinny disengages from the tumescent cock and the twins scissor together gently at first, then more forcefully as they reach a rhythm. They kiss deeply.
Salome gives me an I told you so look and then takes my hand, bringing me over to the bar where Steven, eyes burning with inspiration from what he’s just witnessed, has pushed Flo roughly over a barstool, lifted up her skirt and pulled down her panties: large, grey, shapeless and stained from long use.
Her ass is square and pale, and by the musky scent she’s not bathed since last night. I notice a certain moisture that tells me she was not unaffected by recent events. As I run my finger over her labia, she jumps, but as I insert my thumb she moans. I drag my thumb out and down over her clitoris, spreading her natural lubrication, which is ample at this point. My cock is pressing hard against my boxers, and I drop my pants to my knees, freeing it.
Steven is in front of me, undoing the buttons on Flo’s crisp white shirt. Her bra is next, so she is left only with her skirt gathered up around her middle like a wide belt. Her small breasts dangle like pendulums between the stool she’s bent over and the one she’s resting her elbows on. I can’t see her face.
I look up to see Darcy has moved to a booth opposite to me. Her legs are spread, and under her sundress her right hand is moving under her white panties. With her left hand she gives me a thumbs up, which is awkward, but charming. Maintaining eye contact with her I drive my hard penis into Flo, who squirms a little but does not complain.
Suddenly I become aware of an unpleasant squishy sensation from behind. I stop thrusting and turn to see Steven, naked from the waste down, applying some butter he found behind the counter to my ass. “Trust me,” he smirks, “you’ll thank me later.”
I’d almost forgotten about my part of the deal. Steven’s prick is small and thin, maybe five inches long, but very hard, and leaking pre-come. It curves upward. I lean forward and grip Flo’s tits, squeezing her nipples hard. She whimpers, which pretty much echoes my feelings.
I feel some pressure as he bears down with his head on my now greasy anus, which instinctively clenches. “This will go easier for you if you relax,” Darcy calls, as Steven pushes harder. Discomfort is starting to give way to pain, so I take her advice, breathe and try to let my sphincter go. The well lubricated head eases in, and then the shaft follows into my guts. I feel an urgent need to take a shit, but it passes as he begins thrusting in and out.
Slowly, I resume thrusting myself, and the pleasant sensations from my throbbing cock take focus again. I straighten up and rest my left hand on Flo’s ass. She moans in pleasure as my thumb flicks her hairy anus, and I take the cue, applying some pressure. She calls out in pleasure, her voice deepening.
I turn to Salome who is watching this tableau with undisguised glee: the scissor sisters and their anguished, violated parents; the rapist and his doting mother riding a stranger’s cock; the pretty little girl next door getting off on all of this. I pat the counter next to me, and she hops up next to me.
For the first time I get a good look at her distended sex – dark smooth puffy labia stand out as if vacuum pumped, and glisten with primal ooze. Inside, her pussy gapes invitingly, and… there’s something in there. I caress her lips as she closes her eyes, then pop in a finger and a thumb to grip a rubber ring. I pull gently but firmly and it slides out, bringing with it a large rubber dildo. Salome groans as her pussy closes up behind it. I run two fingers up until they come to rest at a clitoris the size of my pinky knuckle. But I’m distracted by a sudden idea. As Steven and I pump in time – new sensations pulsing through my body – I take the slippery dildo and shove it into Flo’s ass. She lets out a low growl. I get it about six inches in when I feel her coming hard, her vagina contracting around my cock. As her paroxysms abate, Steven reaches around and pulls out my shaft, pumping it hard with one hand while fucking me faster and faster. The nails on his other hand dig into my side as he shoots his load into my bowels.
By this time the twins have either climaxed or grown bored of their sapphic contortions, and are standing by their father, who has passed out, presumably from the pain. They’re taking turns pushing out their bellies and taking “pregnant” selfies with his flaccid penis.
Steven pushes between them and begins to felate the senseless man. I’m glad to see his cock swell – at least he’s still alive. The twins laugh; they seem pleased with this development.
I can’t see what happens next because Darcy is on me, pushing me back on the counter. Semen dripping down my leg, my cock still hard, she straddles me, points my smooth glans at her anus and sits on it with a groan. The pleasure is immediate and intense. I’m primed for orgasm and I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Fortunately Darcy pauses to slip off the sundress. I cup her tits, squeeze gently. Her nipples are hard on my palms. She smiles and closes her eyes, then moves one of her hands to her ignored pussy and rubs in large, slow concentric circles as I begin to thrust up and down.
I want a turn in front, and I think I know how to get the best of both worlds.
I tap her leg and motion for her to dismount. She looks disappointed but complies. I take her hand and lead her to where Steven is still enthusiastically entertaining himself with Frank’s mighty cock, which is rock hard now, though I’m not sure how conscious it’s owner is. I pull Steven away and Darcy gets the idea – Frank’s angry inches are swallowed gratefully by her ass. Steven, unphased, steps around and takes Frank’s back door. Gwinny and Lula grab Darcy’s shoulders and hold her up, each taking a nipple in their mouths, and I sink gloriously into her sopping vagina.
Next to us, Salome lifts a resigned Sarah up by the scruff of her neck and forces her face onto her breast. Her tail thrusts into the abused mother, who quivers in obvious pleasure.
Darcy’s eyes roll up into her eyelids and her breathing is quick and shallow. We’re stretching her out, and every nerve ending is getting individual attention. I plant a deep kiss on her lips, and as our tongues meet she jerks and orgasms violently.
I can’t hold it any longer, when it comes I feel like it starts at my toes, the back of my knees and neck – all the places that feel weak at the edges of high buildings. It thrills through my bones and blood, until finally, finally I feel my ropey jets of jism throb out of me.
The fog of desire abated somewhat, I take a step back and observe. Gwinny is licking my sperm out of Darcy, who is on all fours, recovering. Lula is taking her turn riding her father, while Steven continues his assault on his ass. Sarah, now lying back on the table, is writhing on the table as Salome pumps her tail rhythmically into her, and running her razor sharp fingernails across her bare chest leaving fine cuts.
I get onto my knees, find Salome’s sticky cunt and begin to lick gently at her clitoris, first with the flat of my tongue, then the tip and finally my bottom lip, a sequence I repeat again and again with increasing intensity. She grips my head with both hands and pulls me against her so hard my jaw begins to cramp. Her smell is intoxicating, and I’m hard again.
She releases my head and lifts me up, but to my surprise does not fuck me. Instead, she points me at Sarah, removes her tail and says “Fuck the bitch.” As I eagerly obey, she slides her slippery tail into my ass and massages what I can only assume is my prostrate. I almost blow my load immediately, but I want Sarah to come first, so I take a steadying breath and rub her wet clitoris with my thumb. That does the trick and she sits up, clawing my back as her moment comes. I let go at the same time. I’ve never felt anything like this before. My anus clenches around the demon’s tail for what feels like a minute. Foamy ejaculate leaks off my shaft as I continue to thrust. Only then does she release me. I withdraw and sit down hard.
The room is finally quiet as everyone languishes in post-coital bliss or stupor.
But Salome is not sated. She sidles over to Frank, curls her tail around his throat and plants a long deep kiss on him. His eyes wide, his penis rises unbidden to meet her hand. As she begins to pump, rubbing her swollen nipples on his chest, Darcy is at my ear. Her whisper is quick and earnest. “Don’t fuck her,” she breathes, “He won’t survive, and nor will you. Go. Go while you can.” My brain is foggy with sex and desire, but some part of me registers the real urgency. I pull up my pants and do up my belt. I have no idea where my shirt is, or even when I took it off.
With a snarl, Salome throws her head back and grinds her pelvis into Frank, enveloping his cock. I sieze the opportunity and break for the door.
And so I pass into the night, running furiously, my heart in my chest. The rain has let up, but the road is still slick and shiny, and the air is thick and steamy.
I don’t look back.