The Curse

She thought he was cute and since he was sitting alone she decided to go over and ask if she could join him.

He looks up with cold, uninterested eyes and says flatly, "I will never have sex with you."

"Excuse me?" she asks widening her eyes as if it helped her hear him better.

"No matter what you do I won't have sex with you. I mean intercourse. I probably shouldn't even kiss you or anything, because that would just get your hopes up."

"All I asked was if I could sit with you."

"Sure. I just wanted you to know."

Not knowing for sure if the guy is psycho she debates quickly whether to go ahead and sit down. What the hell, she figures, she has mace in her purse if this guy tries anything.

Before she even finishes sitting he starts up again, "Mmm, you really are beautiful. I really could make you feel good without actually fucking you."

The left side of her ass fails to hit the chair and she starts to fall before grabbing the table to save herself. She pushes up to stand again and fires back, "Jesus, you really are arrogant aren't you? Or do I just look like some huge slut?"

He is calm and begins stating "facts" like he was reading from an almanac, "You don't look like a slut at all. And I don't equate women wanting to fuck me with arrogance. It's a curse, you see."

She looks at the door as if to see if it will tell her if she should pass through it and leave this nut behind. She turns back to him and blurts the only response she can think of, "Are you insane?"

"I don't think so. I had counseling for a while, but I think I'll be okay now," he replies coldly, staring right in her eyes. There is no emotion in his face, but a tear leaks out the corner of his right eye, which he casually wipes away.

The tear is all she notices. She decides this guy isn't crazy, he's just been hurt a lot and so she sits down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. You just come off a little..." she doesn't know how to finish and she's hoping he'll help, but he just stares at her with no feeling. "Well," she begins again, "I was just a little taken aback."

"It's alright," he offers, but his voice is not the least bit comforting, "should we go to my apartment or yours now?"

She shakes her head in wonder and decides to bring this guy back to reality, "Look, couldn't I just have a normal conversation with you? I never said I just wanted you for sex."

"No, but you didn't deny it either. Why would any stranger want to sit with another stranger? People have friends they can talk to, but they don't desire all their friends."

"Okay, I won't deny I'm attracted to you, but you can't just go around sleeping with people these days..."

He cuts her off with a monotone, "All the women I meet do. At least they do with me. It's my curse."

She laughs a little, probably would have laughed harder if he didn't look so joyless, "That's some curse!"

"Oh, I'm not a prude. I just don't want to get anyone pregnant. And all the women who want me don't want children, at least not when they want me. You don't do you?"

"Don't? Oh, want kids, no I don't, not now, but it's not like I don't use birth control."

"You are on the pill. And you'd use a condom if you fucked me as well, but that's as far as you've ever gone. Of course you'd do more to be able to fuck me, they all would."

She wonders how he knew she was on the pill or if he was just guessing. She decides to go along with what he is saying and asks, "Well, doesn't that make you happy?"

He shakes his head, one of the few movements he's made the whole time she's seen him, "It would if it worked, but they all get pregnant. All of them. That's the second part of the curse."

She starts to think this guy may be crazy, but she's enjoying the story, so she encourages him, "How many women?"

"I've lost count. I tried more and more protection but it didn't help. But I've been good, I haven't slept with a woman in a month."

"A month? Geez...and you've lost count? You certainly aren't a prude."

"It doesn't really have anything to do with me. It's you. You come up to me -- I have NEVER hit on a woman in my life, they all come to me. Just like you. You come up to me, you convince me YOU won't get pregnant, but it's always the same."

"What about all your children?"

He looks disappointed, "Come on, what would YOU do if I got you pregnant now?"

She knows she couldn't have a baby. Not now. She tries to say something but it won't come out, and it doesn't have to because he speaks again, "Yeah, you'd kill it. They all do. I know I'm not a good Catholic, but my parents made it a special point in bringing me up to explain how the unborn are alive. And I'm not going to murder anyone else."

She thinks of how even if this guy is exaggerating, even if he's only gotten a couple girls pregnant because they forgot a pill, it would be pretty bad. No wonder he had counseling.

She tries to comfort him, "Look, I don't want you to kill anyone, I'm sorry sex has always lead to pregnancy for you, but does that mean you can't just relax a little and talk with me?"

"I'm not?"

"Well, you certainly don't look relaxed. But I suppose coffee shops don't design these chairs to encourage you to stay forever. Maybe would should go somewhere else?"

"I already asked, you place or mine?"


"Sorry the place is a mess, I wasn't expecting company."

"We could have gone to my place," he says as he looks around her apartment, taking in everything without seeming to care at all if it were an expensive hotel or a zoo.

"Well, make yourself comfortable," she offers as she hangs up her coat, then adds, "That's why we came here."

"I know why we came here," he states firmly.

She can't really understand why he is so obsessed about her wanting him for just sex. She wonders just how many women he got pregnant. Then she started to wonder if he was even attracted to her. He seemed so cold most of the time it was hard to imagine him getting excited about anything.

"You know I'll do anything you want besides intercourse, don't you?" he interupts her thought and she sees he is just staring at her.

"What?" she asks as if she hadn't heard him, she had, she just wasn't sure what he meant.

"You look like you want my attention. I told you you were beautiful, you should know I want you."

"People say women are beautiful all the time. And..."

"I don't," he cuts her off again but she continues, albeit stuttering a little, " just seem to be so worried I'll try to sleep with you."

"No, worried you'll try to fuck me," he corrected. She liked the way he was so blunt. So dirty and yet he's worried about her trying to have sex with him! "And worried you'll get your hopes up that I'll let you. I won't."

She believed him too much to think that was a challenge, but she was feeling really sexy suddenly, so she grinned a little and asked, "And if I promise I won't?"

"I'll do anything you want."

And he did. It was the best sex she had ever had. Especially since they didn't actually have sex, or she supposed they did, well, she didn't know what to call it. Intercourse, that's they way he described it earlier, he wouldn't have intercourse, and they didn't. But as he slept next to her in the dark of her bedroom she couldn't help but think that she had never been more satisfied.

She rubbed her hand up his leg and when she went from his leg to his stomach she noticed he was hard. She turned and peered at his face in the darkness. She wanted to check if he was asleep, and she realized she didn't even know his first name. "Honey?" she asked. No response. But his hardness certainly was responsive.

She had an idea. She hadn't missed a pill in years, she had some condoms around here somewhere, she could just climb on top of him. But he might freak out when he woke up. But maybe he wouldn't wake up. She decided to do some experiments. She straddled him and held him with her hand. His face didn't move. His eyes were still closed. She leaned over to listen to him breath. Sounded pretty regular to her. "Honey?" she said a little louder. No response. This would be good. Guys have wet dreams all the time. All she wanted was to be able to tell him about this later, when she knows for sure she isn't pregnant, that will keep him from worrying so much in the future. In the meantime they can keep having fun like they did tonight. This guy may be too messed up to have any kind of relationship with, but he sure was good for sex.

She got up to get a condom. It was pretty dark so she decided she needed to turn on a small desk lamp. Looking back at him she saw he still slept peacefully in her bed. She found one and returned to her lover. Rolling the condom over him she watched his face, no sign of awakening. She was getting very excited so she slid him inside of her easily. She checked once more to see if he woke up. He didn't and so she forgot about him and thought only of it. She moved herself up and down and tried not to go too fast or let out too many moans. She increased her pace and varied her pelvic movements until some time later she could feel him throb inside her. She focused on him again, he still slept.

She went to the bathroom to get a washcloth to clean him up, she didn't want him to figure anything out until she had her next period.


She woke up the next morning and he wasn't in bed. She strained her eyes open and looked around the room. He was standing at the foot of her bed, he had just finished dressing.

"Thank you for last night," he said with as little emotion as ever.

"Leaving so soon?" she said glancing at the clock which told he it was six in the morning.

He smiled, "Yeah, I got what I wanted. It was great. You fuck good."

She blinked and looked hurt, "F..fucked?"

He smiled bigger, "Yeah, I know you feel stupid because you thought I was asleep, they all do, but you were really good. You should concentrate on that."

She tried to speak but was stunned. He continued, "And you got what you wanted. You got to feel powerful for a night. Feel like you could make somebody do something they didn't want to, even if you stole it while they slept. I used to let women talk me into having sex with them, but I've done the whole fake sleep thing a few times now and I really get off on it. Although I resent you even more."

She shook her head and tried to speak again but nothing came out. He just kept assaulting her with his words, "I used to be honest with women, I told them how I wanted to touch them and make them feel good. But of course they didn't let me. That would make them easy, wouldn't it? So they taught me it was easier to lie. Tell them you don't want something, that will make them try and give it to you. They want power, to feel power. Power over other people. They're afraid of being manipulated so they manipulate. And they even steal, like you. Force. A force women don't get to experience. Men can rape all the time, but only the women I've been with get to feel that kind of false control." He stopped for a moment and just smiled, "I suppose I'm bitter. I suppose it could work with some woman. I could be honest and so could she and it would work. But I didn't find it for so long. I quit. I gave up. So I'm weak, oh well. I'll use my weakness to make you all feel powerful, at least for a night.

"Maybe some day I'll meet a woman that is truly powerful," his voice was raising, "One that will want to have sex with me, and she'll tell me she has realized that she wants me, and since I'm so set against it that we are better off not seeing each other. And so I won't be able to have her. I won't be able to fuck her," he was almost screaming now, "Fuck her like I fucked you, like I fucked hundreds of women, by manipulating them into fucking me. And maybe the only way I will ever have her is to stop all my fucking lying and go back to being good. Go back to being honest," he ended by yelling, "But until then I'll just keep fucking you all and leaving you like this." And he left.