The Curse (Sissy Story) by sdvine

She was leaning hard against the guardrail, her head down, breathing heavy, and she was practically swimming in her clothes. In fact, it looked like she might have stolen them, as they appeared to be men's clothes, a well-worn concert t-shirt and jeans with no shoes. My first horrific thought was she had been ****d and escaped, and grabbed clothes along the way. I rushed up to her, asking "Miss, are you alright?" When I reached her, and she looked up at me, I noted a very arousing fragrance, and the world all of a sudden slowed way down.

A d**g like haze fell over me as I was suddenly overtaken by my sexual urges. I had to have this woman. And by the hungry, almost feral look in her eyes, I knew she had to have me as well. In a whirling blur of lips and hands we crashed together pawing at each other. In the back of my mind alarms were blaring, but I couldn't stop myself. We stumbled in to the building, and I practically carried her downstairs to my apartment. I fumbled with the keys as I couldn't seem to concentrate enough to take my hands off this unnamed and suddenly literally irresistible woman to get the door open, but after a fashion I cracked the door, kicked it open, and the two of us basically fell in, landing on the floor. Her hand had been under my shirt at the time, trying to get it off, and I felt a quick stab of pain as her fingernails dug in to my back on impact. I quickly shrugged that pain off, though, and with a quick sweep of my foot, closed my door.

Our mutual desperate need didn't abate, in fact, if anything it seemed to be increasing. We both managed to disengage from the writing pretzel on the floor long enough to rip our clothes off. And I do mean that literally. At the very least our shirts were in shreds, and in her case, still hanging on to her arms. She wasn't wearing a bra, and instead of panties she had on boxers that were only being held up by her shapely hips. But she wasn't acting like someone who had just been sexually assaulted.