Chapter 12—Curse

Veil watched the next qualifier. He tackled the demoness orally, turning her on with kisses of the face and breasts, then licking her vulva expertly until she climaxed. He was good enough so that it made Veil react; she could live with that kind of sex. But there was bound to be a catch.

There was. “I am impotent,” he informed her when she interviewed him. “But then what would you want with me?” “That is why I want you. I have a strong desire for sex, and my doctor says I have the physical capacity for it. But I can’t get an erection in the presence of a woman. It’s psychological, perhaps the result of some early episode I can’t remember. I believe that if I once have real sexual experience with a woman, the barrier will be gone, and I will then be able to do it with other women.”

“I’m not sure how I can give you that experience. It would more likely be an exercise in frustration for you.”

“Not necessarily so. You will be committed; you will neither laugh at me nor avoid me. Your interest is in having sexual experience with me. That should make a difference.” “My interest is in getting out of here and going home with my child.” “And your surest means of achieving that end is to make me potent. You will address me, use your female wiles to arouse me, and finally bring me to copulation with you. You will have no other purpose. I believe that there should be some progress in the course of a year.” “May I see your penis?” “Welcome.” He doffed his pantaloons and stood with his nether portion

exposed. His penis and testicles looked completely normal. She squatted and took hold of the member, peeling back the foreskin and inspecting the glans. Nothing wrong there. She massaged it with her fingers. It was ordinary through

out, but did not react. “May I make an oral approach?” “You may.” She touched the tip of the glans with her tongue, then licked it. There was no increase of its size or hardness. She licked the stem just behind the glans, the highly sensitive equivalent of a woman’s clitoris. Still no reaction. She put her mouth over it and sucked gently. Nothing. She took the whole limp penis into her mouth, not difficult at all in this small state, caressing it with tongue and lips. “You are wasting your time,” Impotent said. “Other women have tried.” So it seemed. “Would you care to try it on me?” For the average man got just about as much sexual titillation from licking a woman’s vulva as he did from having a woman swallow penis. “If you wish.” She doffed her farthingale and lay on the couch, spreading her legs. He got down and addressed her cleft. “Take me to orgasm,” she said. But she reached down to put one hand on his penis, verifying its condition.

He was just as competent on her as he had been on the demoness. Soon he had her building to pleasure, and then to full climax, which she did not try to diminish or conceal. Her bare legs clamped his head as she writhed with the force of it. But his member never budged. This was a tough case. “Have you tried a variety of women?” “Every variety.” “Including very young ones?” “I am not turned on by children. My desire is for comely grown women.

I merely can not get an erection in the presence of one.” “What of violence?” “Sado-masochism does not turn me on; it disgusts me.” “What of sexual demonstrations? Does watching others have sex turn

you on?” “No.” She was constrained to believe him. “What of romantic stories?” “Those, yes.” Progress at last. “Do you get an erection when watching a romantic play

or hearing a story?” “Yes. But it fades in the ready presence of a woman. I can relieve myself

only by masturbating.” But she was minded to test it, for this seemed to be a man she would be

able to relate to comfortably. “May we experiment?” “If you can find a way to make me potent, welcome.” “Then let us lie together, and I will tell you a story.”

They lay down on her bed, side by side, naked, on their backs. She took hold of his penis so she could verify its state of arousal without looking or calling attention to it. She knew that he would forget the contact after a while, if she kept her hand quite still.

“There was once a young woman called Desiree,” she said. “She was not particularly attractive, so was not socially popular. She wanted more than anything to have the kind of sex appeal she saw other girls practicing.” “I would like to encounter a girl with enduring sex appeal for me.” Veil knew it. “Desiree was walking home from her dull job when she was caught by a sudden shower. Half a torrent fell in a few minutes, and she was drenched. Water cascaded into the gutters of the street. Then she spied a little man caught in the flow, about to be washed into a deep culvert. She reached down and caught him by the collar, hauling him out of danger.” As she spoke, she found herself getting into the story, and let it flow on its own.

‘Thank you, plain woman,’ the little man said. ‘I regret I can not suitably reward you for saving my life.’ ‘That’s all right,’ she said. He evidently felt guilty. ‘I’m an elf. We come in two varieties. A wish elf

could have granted you one wish. But I’m a curse elf.’ ‘A curse elf!’ she exclaimed. ‘I never heard of that.’ ‘We’re not popular, so we keep a low profile. Now, unfortunately, I am

required to curse you.’ She was curious. ‘What kind of curses do you do?’ ‘Oh, there’s an infinite variety. Do you have a preference?’ Desiree laughed. ‘Curse me with sex appeal.’ The elf hesitated. ‘Are you sure?’ ‘You mean you really can?’ ‘Indubitably. But you’d be better off with a minor curse, like a hangnail.’ ‘I’ll take the sex appeal.’ ‘As you wish, so to speak.’ He lifted his two little hands, spread his fingers, and made a strange gesture. She felt a weird tingle. She blinked—and the curse elf was gone.

Had he really cursed her with sex appeal? She doubted it. But she was curious to find out.

The rain abated, and she walked on toward home. A man was walking the other way on the sidewalk. He saw her, and paused, staring. She tried to skirt around him, but he put out an arm to intercept her. ‘How much?’ he asked. ‘How much what?’ she replied, confused. ‘To have sex with you. Now.’ She thought he was joking. ‘I’m soaking wet, and I’m not even pretty.’ He brought out his wallet and showed a twenty dollar bill. When she just stared, he produced another, then a third. ‘That’s all I have,’ he said.

Bemused, she decided to call his bluff. ‘Okay.’ She took the money from his hand.

He immediately backed her up against a telephone pole, opened his fly, and hoisted up her skirt. Before she realized that he was serious, he had her panties to the side and his hot stiff penis was pushing into her surprised vulva. It jammed up somewhat painfully. ‘Hey!’

He didn’t stop. She tried to back off, but her back was against the pole and her wiggling only settled her vagina more firmly down on his intruding member. She was fairly skewered.

The man panted and thrust, and in a moment she felt the hot jet of his semen. It was way too late to protest; the deed was already in progress. He thrust several more times, spewing out what was in him, and subsided. Then he withdrew, pulled in his penis, and hurried away, looking somewhat shamefaced.

Desiree was left holding the money. It wasn’t even rape; she had been paid. Stunned, she fumbled out a tissue, wiped her cleft, and put herself back together.

She took a moment to ponder, and realized that maybe the elf had not been joshing her. He just might really have given her the curse of sex appeal.

The episode had not been fun, but she did have sixty dollars she could certainly use. Still, it could be a fluke. The man she had encountered might have been so desperate for a woman that he simply took the first one he encountered. How could she be sure?

There was a pair of rather cute boys living a few houses down the street from her. She would have liked to have something to do with them, but they had never noticed her. They were decent types. She would ask them.

She walked to their house, went to the door, and knocked. ‘Hi, Al,’ she said when the door opened. ‘I’m Desiree, down the street. I wonder if—’

‘You’re soaking wet,’ Al said. ‘You’ll catch your death of cold. Come in.’ He called back over his shoulder: ‘Hey Bo, it’s Desiree.’ ‘Well, there’s really no need. I just want to know whether—’ Then Bo was there too. The two boys bustled her into their warm apartment and solicitously stripped away her sodden clothing. While Al dried her with a soft towel Bo fixed her a mug of hot chocolate. In moments she was sitting nude at their table, drinking it. It was wonderful.

‘This may seem inopportune,’ Al said. ‘But there’s something about you. Would it be too much to ask if—’ This was the test. What did she have to lose? ‘Welcome, both of you.’ Suddenly she was on the bed with them, and Al was kissing her mouth and fondling her breasts while Bo was squeezing her buttocks and tonguing her cleft. Then Al’s rigid penis was in her mouth while Bo’s was plunging her vagina. They tried to be gentle, but were overcome by passion. They jetted almost simultaneously.

Desiree swallowed the coursing fluid, and rocked with the force of the eruptions. Her question had been answered: she had potent sex appeal.

The boys were embarrassed as they subsided. ‘We’ve never been like this before,’ Al said. ‘I don’t know what got into us.’

‘I do,’ Desiree said, satisfied. Innate caution caused her to avoid the truth. ‘You just never saw me nude before.’

‘We thought you were, well, plain,’ Bo said. ‘No offense. This was amaz ing.’ ‘Just my luck to get caught in the rain. I’d better go home now.’ ‘Of course,’ Al said. ‘But now that we know the real you, we’d like to—’ ‘How about formal dates with each of you, on alternate nights?’ They agreed. Soon she was on her way home, in borrowed dry clothing, carrying her wet things. She was well pleased with her supposed curse. Now she had two nice boyfriends.

But as she settled down to sleep in the evening, it occurred to her that it could be awkward at her job, where there were four men for every woman. Could she turn off the sex appeal? Would baggy clothing mask it? Or would she be stuck trying to fend off married men, including her boss?

Well, she would worry about that in the morning. She drew he sheet over her and dropped off to sleep.

She woke in alarm. There was a man in bed with her! Or something. He was trying to rape her.

She turned on the light. She stared. The sheet was squeezing her breasts, and part of it had somehow gotten wadded around her hairbrush, and the wrapped handle was pushing into her cleft. She realized with horror that she had so much sex appeal that the very things of her bedroom wanted to have sex with her. It was indeed a curse; how could she sleep if she couldn’t trust even the sheets to leave her alone?

Veil paused in her narration. The man’s penis had swelled in her hand with each recounted sexual episode, and was now fully hard. She sat up and mounted him, setting his member at her cleft.

The man looked at her, remembering where he was. And his penis shrank. Sex became impossible. “Damn!” he said, blowing out a foul stench. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. You were potent only when you forgot you

were with a woman.” “True. But you got farther than any other woman has. You could tell me

other stories, and perhaps in time it would become possible.” “Perhaps,” she agreed. But she was afraid it was a lost cause. The next man was a callow youth with a dirty neck. How clean would he be where it didn’t show? “I got two friends,” he said, farting politely. “We do everything together. We swore never to let a woman break us up. So we figure to do it together. One for the mouth, one for the cunt, one for the asshole, blasting off together if we can. Between times you can scrub the floor, cook the mush, wash the sheets—you know, what women do. You understand?”

“Perfectly,” she said. She had described two young men having simulta neous sex with one woman; this trio planned to go it one better, stretching all her orifices at once with their unclean instruments. She’d be better off with the impotent man.

One day remained, with one more man to qualify. She hoped he turned out to be a better prospect.