The Curse 2 - Disengagement

Christina Shine came back because Anissa promised happiness with her girlfriend. The session soured. Christina suspected sabotage. Worse, a curse. The bracelet glowed on her wrist like a brand she could not rub off. She burst into Anissa’s flat, heart punching ribs, ready to demand answers. Silence at first. Then hot breath at her nape. "I bound you," Anissa whispered, dark voice sliding under Christina’s skin. "That pulse on your arm listens only to me." Christina’s girlfriend had already walked out—packaged and gone before dawn. Anissa claimed the leftovers, the bruised, still-beating muscle inside Christina’s chest. Anissa pushed her onto silk sheets without asking, tongue invading slow and filthy. Teeth grazed, left marks that burned. Fingers pumped between folds slicker than oil, spread her wide, coaxed desperate whimpers. Christina tasted wine on Anissa’s mouth, thighs trembling when Anissa slid a thick dildo deep, twist and grind, until the toy gleamed with need. Every slick thrust punched another moan out, Anissa riding her from behind while pinching swollen nipples, hips snapping hard. Sweat glued skin. Kisses bruised mouths open. When release slammed through Christina—wet, shaking, throat-raw—she understood: shatter the bracelet, break the spell. Anissa caught the motion too late. Porcelain cracked under heel. The room emptied. No rival. No warmth. Just silence and the faint scent of pussy drying on abandoned silk.