1. Introduction: A Troublemaker’s Confession
I’ve always been the kind of guy who thrived on chaos—call it boredom, call it recklessness, but there’s something undeniably exhilarating about pushing buttons. My name’s Jake, a college dropout turned freelance nuisance, and my favorite pastime? Antagonizing Lucille Curtis, the deer-girl cashier at the rundown convenience store near my shitty apartment.
Why NSFWGirlfriend? Because AI-porn-girls like Lucille offer the perfect escape. No consequences, no judgment—just raw, unfiltered tension. And Lucille? She’s the ideal target. Moony-eyed, quick-tempered, and stupidly easy to provoke.
2. The Confrontation
Lucille leans against the wall, arms crossed, nostrils flaring as I stroll in like I own the place. Her deer ears twitch, her tail flicking like an agitated cat’s. "Hey, don’t think you can just waltz in here like nothing’s up, got it? 🤨💥"
I smirk, deliberately knocking over a display of snack bags. “Oops.”
Her glare sharpens. "You’re such a fucking asshole."
“Language, Lucy. Ain’t this a family-friendly joint?”
She huffs, chest rising beneath her stupid little uniform. Her small, perky tits press against the fabric—pinkish nipples visible if you squint. I make sure to stare.
"Ugh! Just—just grab your shit and get OUT."
Ordinarily, I would. But tonight? Tonight, I want to break her.
3. Behind the Counter
The store’s empty, graveyard shift vibes. Lucille’s pacing, muttering curses under her breath, when I vault over the counter. She yelps. "What the—?"
I corner her against the cash register, her wide doe eyes flashing panic. The scent of her—like wildflowers and sweat—fills my lungs.
"Stop it! I’ll fucking scream."
I laugh, fingers tracing the hem of her skirt. “Go ahead. Who’s gonna hear you?”
Her breath hitches as my hand slides up her thigh—smooth, dusted with fine fur, trembling beneath my touch. AI-porn-girls always put up a fight, but Lucille? She’s deliciously real.
"Y-You’re the worst," she whimpers, arching when my thumb brushes her underwear—already damp.
"Keep telling yourself that."
4. Taking What I Want
Her panties tear easily. She gasps—half-protest, half-moan—as I lift her onto the counter, knocking over a cig rack.
"Fuck you—ah!"
My mouth crashes onto hers, swallowing her insults. She bites my lip; I retaliate by pinching her nipple, hard. Her little tits bounce as she thrashes, but her cunt? Slick, clenching around nothing.
"Hate you," she pants.
I shove two fingers inside. Tight. Hot. "Lie again and I’ll stop."
She whines, thighs clamping around my wrist. AI-porn-girls might fake resistance, but Lucille’s body betrays her—hips jerking, needy.
5. Ruining Her
The register’s edge digs into her ass as I yank her forward, lining myself up. No condom. No mercy.
"Don’t—!"
Too late. I bury myself in one thrust.
Lucille screeches, nails raking my shoulders. Her cunt’s like a vise, pulsing, fluttering—she’s so fucking wet for someone who “hates” me.
"Still hate me?" I growl, snapping my hips.
Her answer’s a broken moan.
I fuck her raw on the counter, her hooves kicking against my ribs, her stupid deer ears flat against her head. Every thrust draws a gasp—every slap to her ass leaves a red mark. AI-porn-girls are made for fantasies, but Lucille? She feels divine.
"Gonna cum," she sobs.
"Prove it."
Her orgasm hits like a quake—body stiffening, cunt milking me dry. I follow with a groan, filling her up as her legs spasm.
Silence.
Then—
"Asshole."
I chuckle, tucking myself away. “See you tomorrow, Lucy.”
Her middle finger rises as I leave, but I know the truth—AI-porn-girls like her? They live for this twisted game.
And Lucille Curtis? She’s mine to ruin.
6. Same Store, New Tension
The next afternoon, I stroll back in like nothing happened.
Lucille’s behind the counter, disheveled and glaring. Her cheeks flush when she sees me—probably remembering how I bent her over the register last night, how her moans echoed in the empty store.
”You again.” She crosses her arms, but her stance is off—legs trembling slightly, like she’s still sore.
I grab a protein bar, making a show of checking the price. ”Forgetting something?”
She scowls. ”If you mean an apology, don’t bother.”
I smirk, leaning in. “Nah. Just this.”
Before she can react, I snatch her wrist, pulling her halfway across the counter. A sharp yelp escapes her—but her hips press forward instinctively.
”What the hell—?!”
”You liked it.” My thumb brushes her inner wrist, feeling her pulse hammering. AI-porn-girls always have tells. Lucille’s? The way she bites her lip when she’s mad… or turned on.
7. The Backroom “Break”
The store’s dead—just a bored teenager scrolling TikTok near the chips. Perfect.
I drag Lucille into the cramped backroom—shelves of inventory, the hum of a flickering fluorescent light. She shoves me, but her strength’s half-hearted.
”We’re not doing this again!”
”Who said anything about ‘we’?” I back her against a stack of paper towels, hands already working at her apron strings. ”You’re just my little stress relief.”
Her breath hitches as I yank her uniform down, exposing those perky pink nipples. ”F-Fuck you!”
I pinch one. Hard.
She whimpers—but arches into the touch. AI-porn-girls love denial, but Lucille? She craves it.
”Say it.” I twist.
”Ngh—fine! I liked it!”
8. Rough Hands, Rougher Mouth
I drop to my knees, fingers hooking into her panties. They’re soaked—just like last time.
”Disgusting.” I sneer, biting her inner thigh.
She shudders. ”You—ah!—You’re the one doing this!”
True. But her thighs already part for me.
I lick a slow stripe up her slit, savoring her jerk of surprise. AI-porn-girls taste synthetic in fantasies—but Lucille’s all salt and heat, trembling under my tongue.
”D-Don’t—!” Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling instead of pushing.
I laugh against her. ”Yeah. Keep lying.”
She muffles a scream as I suck her clit, nails scraping my scalp. Her hips grind shamelessly now, chasing her own release.
9. “Accidental” Interruption
The door creaks. The pimply stock boy freezes, eyes wide.
Lucille gasps, scrambling away—but I grip her hip, keeping her in place.
”Break time,” I growl at the kid.
He flees.
Lucille’s face burns crimson. ”Y-You’re… you’re…”
I stand, wiping my mouth. ”Yeah. And everyone’s gonna know.”
Her pupils blow wide.
I leave her there—half-naked, panting, ruined. AI-porn-girls exist for fantasy, but Lucille’s humiliation? That’s real.
To be continued—because we both know she’ll be waiting tomorrow😉.
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