Writing fiction is relatively new to me and I love it. It really gives me a kick to create a story from a small idea that grows bigger as I think about it.
Part One ~ Black Spots
So I have never seen myself as normal. Well, what is that? Ever since I was a young lad I had the ability to smell things others didn’t notice. Smell and select – distinguish one from another. Knowing what I favoured, wanted, was one thing. Understanding what should be done about this, another. Let me explain.
I was considered a small child and grew into that lanky teenager. Never satisfied with life, with school or family, which led me to be very much a loner. Eating was also a problem. Food not of interest, putting away just enough to get by. Except if the family dinner was steak (rare) or roast lamb (tender). Other than that I would just push it around on my plate. It was not an enjoyment. I had to survive, so I ate.
Unable to find much else in life arousing, the ability to smell became the force which propelled me forward.
By the time I was a teenager I’d started tracking. Chasing the smell. An aroma in the air would catch my nostrils. I’d follow it in a dazed state. Black spots would appear in front of my eyes and at that point, choice was taken away. Compelled to follow as if in a trance, I often found myself in an unfamiliar part of town – the scent having evaded capture.
One night I was heading home after a youth club disco, already outgrown it being eighteen, but ignorant as to how else I could expand my social life. Leaving deliberately just after Justine, beguiled by her musty aroma. A year younger than me, she had dated a guy in my class during the last term of school. I may have noticed her out of the corner of my eye but she was not a looker. That evening her scent spurred me on, so coming to my road I just carried on following. From fifteen metres away I could smell her. I began shaking my head to try and clear the familiar black spots clouding my vision.
Walking and inhaling. My pace increased and finally she heard footsteps turned, looked and smiled.
Even though remarkably skinny I had a reasonable face – a little acne scared but apparently attractive. Naturally detached by nature, never letting girls get close. Let’s just say I was a seven out of ten and she was a five – but her smell that night was a nine.
“Oh, it’s you.”
Laughing a little maniacally, not knowing what to say I blurted,
“Yeah – wanted to make sure you got home OK,” wiping the sweat from my brow that was starting to obscure already hazy vision.
“Did you? She asked surprised, having stopped in her tracks staring right at me.
Meeting her gaze I walked towards her. Each step bringing the intoxicating scent closer. Nostrils so full I could taste it.
Captivated as she stood her ground. My hands pulled at the poppers on her blouse, exposing the black lace of the bra. Her fulsome breasts spilling over the trim. I stroked the plump skin in preparation for my onslaught, while she put her head back and submitted.
Lifting her skirt, the smell was alluring and hypnotic. I knew it was precisely what I had always longed for, always smelled and followed but not acted upon. This was the moment.
Grasping at the front of her knickers, she stopped me and squealed in response,
“Hang on – I have my period.”
Nothing was going to stop me.
“ I don’t mind,” I breathed, nuzzling her neck.
Giving in, we ran into the alley opposite and I yanked her knickers (with pad) down.
Then, I inserted fingers, as she moaned loudly wriggling her pussy against my hand. Withdrawing I put my thumb to my mouth, savouring the menstrual blood smell and flavour. Becoming nearly dizzy with lust I fell to my knees – tongue finding her hole. Pulling my head towards her cunt, she buried my face with her cunt lips. I dove in wasting no time to lick, suck, and feast on those juices.
Becoming heady from this astounding experience I couldn’t lap her sex fast enough.
Strangely, I felt my strength growing. Clarity abounded, sight became sharp, brain alert. At that moment I was superior.
The orgasm came to her quickly, shouting out my name. Pulling away I stood and rubbed my red smeared mouth with the back of my shirt cuff, leaving a blood stain.
“Wow,” she mewled, “that was incredible.”
We exchanged pleasantries, then putting an inquiring hand on my dick –
“Can I do something for you?”
It wasn’t hard. Whilst slurping her bloody flow it had been swollen and throbbing but now it was calming down and relaxed.
“I’m fine,” I said. And I was.
The Curse Part One Black Spots