The Curse

Christina Shine shows up convinced her girlfriend is stepping out on her. One last Hail Mary sends her knocking on Anissa Kate's door. Anissa, all French curves and knowing eyes, lights candles, then asks what hurts. Christina spills the story and begs for answers. The cards come out first. Wrong draw every time. They spell the same bitter truth Christina already tastes. Anissa wants to be sure, so they lock hands, close their eyes, and the ritual starts. Anissa's spirit slips loose. In the haze she sees herself tangled up with Christina instead—blonde hair spilling over pillows, full natural tits pressed together, mouths locked while they roll in a lazy 69. Heat, sweat, laughter. The picture feels too good to hand back. Back in her body, Anissa smiles and lies sweet. “Your girl’s faithful. You two are golden.” Then she slides closer, palms gliding up Christina’s thighs. “One little spell,” she murmurs, already tasting the lie on her own tongue. The bond she casts is for herself, and Christina’s big, soft breasts are the first thing she claims.