Cursed, part one (fm)

I can’t believe the way this old woman is staring at me. I’m used to people staring at me, but it’s unusual for an old woman to be leering at me the way she is. What is she even doing in a nice bar like this? She looks like she should be muttering to herself while feeding pigeons in the park.
She approaches me slowly but with confidence, never breaking eye contact.

“Pretty girl, gotta boyfriend?”

I recoil slightly, confused. Is she hitting on me?

“No,” I reply with a bit of an attitude.

“How come why not?” she asks and I notice an accent, perhaps Eastern European.

“I dunno,” I say, feeling a weird vibe from her.

“You should get a boyfriend, before you’re all used up.”

“Excuse me?” I demand, offended at the insinuation. Not only do I find it gross for her to talk to me that way, but I’m not really in danger of that. I rarely have sex because I really don’t think anyone is good enough or deserving of my body. Since I was very young it was obvious I was making just about every man who saw me horny. Now that I’m 25, I know I’m full blown fantasy material. Sorry if it sounds conceited but it’s true: 5’7” with double D tits, a deep year round tan, round hips and ass, and wavy brown hair almost to my waist. I modeled a bit as a child but stopped after my mom caught a photographer trying to molest me. I didn’t even know what was happening but my mom is also a former model, and she spotted the guy right away.

Anyway, back to the old lady: she’s staring deep into my eyes, snickering. I’m deeply uncomfortable but I can’t look away. There’s an unmistakable sparkle in her eye, despite her ragged clothing, dirty face, calloused hands…something entrancing.

“Sorry to do this to you, but you reap what you sow,” she says solemnly. Then she nods and leaves the bar.

I giggle uncomfortably and look around but no one was paying attention to us.

“Anything else?” the bartender asks. She has a bit of an attitude; probably jealous of me.

“N-no,” I stammer, suddenly feeling like I have to leave immediately. I hail a taxi out front and take it back to my apartment. I shower and get in bed, turning my phone on silent, feeling off and like I want to not be bothered. I’ve lived in NYC for two years and don’t have many friends who would reach out on a Wednesday evening anyway. Sometimes I’ll get a call from a friend whose boyfriend’s friend or guy friend or cousin is in town and they’re trying to show him a good time, not knowing I don’t put out. Even if I don’t fuck them, I’m still a good example of how hot the women are in this city.

I blink awake and it’s still dark. I have to pee. I keep all the lights off, and when I get back to my room the door is closed. I don’t remember closing it. I suddenly feel much more awake. I open the door and flick on the light.

My minds races. This isn’t my room. Where am I? Wait…this looks a little familiar. Wait a minute…

This is my high school best friend’s younger brothers room…what was his name??

“What the fuck?” I try to say, but nothing comes out.

Nick! His name comes back to me as he bolts upright, confused, rubbing his eyes.

“Adriana? W-what are you doing here?”

I try to tell him I have no fucking idea, but what comes out of my mouth is this: “I know you want to fuck me, Nick. And I want you to.”

I begin to panic. I want to pull out my hair, run away, staple my mouth shut.

“Is this some kind of a trick?” Nick asks, also suddenly much more awake.

“No trick, babe. I just love making dreams come true.”

I have no control over my body as it moves itself towards him. He’s shirtless, his bottom half still under the comforter. The room is stuffy, crowded with piles of stuff I can’t make out. Probably mostly clothes. He has a huge tv and two video game consoles. I feel my hands pull the straps of my dress down and slide it down my shoulders. My heart is pounding; this feels like it’s taking forever. I pause and grip the neckline of the dress, then I roll it down and let my tits pop out. Nick stares at me in complete disbelief and I wish I could return the look but my facial muscles don’t respond. I drop the dress the rest of the way, revealing that I have no panties on. When I reach the bed I crawl towards him seductively, then straddle him over the comforter. Immediately his hands begin to knead my ass. I ride him over the comforter for a moment, then I look deep into his eyes and I hear myself whisper: “whip it out for me, baby.”

His boxers are under his ass and off in a second. He’s rock hard and a decent size for Sarah’s dorky little brother. I swallow the whole thing enthusiastically, bobbing my head up and down while moaning and rubbing my pussy. I deep throat him and flick his balls with my tongue. What the fuck is happening to me?!

I sit up and slide his full length into me.

He groans at my wetness. My body rides him, slowly at first, then hard.

“This is exactly how I imagined you,” he moans. My tits are bouncing and my mouth is telling him (and me) how much I’m loving it.

“I’ve wanted this for 12 years,” he pants.

“Where do you want to cum?”

“In your pussy! Let me cum in your pussy!”

“Do it baby! Creampie my pussy!”

WHAT THE FUCK, I try to make myself get off of him but I can’t. I can feel my kegel-tightened muscles milking his cock.

He almost shouts as he cums inside of me, and to my utter shock I cum at the same time. Am I enjoying myself? I’m too emotionally distressed to even know what my body is feeling.

I roll off of him and lay with my back to him. He spoons me and kisses me tenderly on the neck and shoulder and I suddenly feel exhausted and we both fall asleep.

I wake up at 10 the next morning in my own bed.

“What an insane dream,” I think with a sigh of relief. I go to the bathroom to pee and I’m stopped in my tracks as I feel cum leak out of my pussy and down my leg.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/suk1ow/cursed_part_one_fm