The Gypsy's Curse

Ever reliable, the fair came to town again. Home from college for the summer, Julia and her tomboyish friend Stephanie drove out to the fairgrounds on a Saturday night to see the local boys they'd gone to high school with, to eat cotton candy, and to ride the attractions. They'd been excited for a week, figuring the night at the carnival would be a great way to end the summer before going their separate ways, Julia back to college at Boston University, and Steph to Miami University. They wore skimpy sundresses and a tiny bit too much makeup and perfume. They stepped out their car and straightened their looks.

I look ridiculous in this, Steph said of the flowery dress she had been forced to wear by Julia. She'd have preferred to go in jeans and a t-shirt.

Julia wore her thick brown hair with a simple black band to keep her tresses out of her eyes. In the back, her hair cascaded between her shoulder blades, just touching the top of her light blue and white dress, which was cinched at the waist with a lacey white belt. She was a fit, healthy girl with a wonderful, womanly shape, all curves and just the right amount of softness.

Steph, looking self-conscious, tugged at the hem of her own slight dress and tried to make it cover more real estate than it was meant to hide. It showed off her toned arms and shoulders. A natural athlete, her long, shapely legs attracted more than a few admiring looks. Her blonde hair was pulled into a simple ponytail.

They entered the gate, paying the five dollar entrance fee, and immediately bought two swirls of cotton candy--one pink and one blue. They carried their cotton candy through the rows of booths and tents. Julia's dad's hour-old admonitionDon't be a ruberang in her ears. They tilted their heads skyward at the Ferris Wheel, and wandered aimlessly, one occasionally alerting the other to a cute guy. Steph nudged Julia's arm, and flicked her chin in the direction of Steve Amonte, who was pulling into the parking lot on his Harley.

I heard Steve broke up with Kelsey last week. He's wanted you since tenth grade. Why don't we go say hi? Steph prodded.

The guys in this town, or any of the towns around here, they're all boys. They'd rather play their video games and fiddle with their bikes than be with two hotties like us. Julia laughed and pulled a tiny flask of Patron from her handbag. She looked over her shoulder and took a quick nip. I'm going to make this a night to remember.

The girls floated over to a booth decorated with a garish, childishly designed sign proclaiming Pie a Cheerleader. Manning the booth were three girls they knew from high school, in their cheerleading outfits. One of the girls, a blonde, had wiped her face with a towel, but dried white whipped cream and graham cracker crust cling to her uniform and was hardening into a tiara-like semicircle in her hair. The two other girls flanking her, another blonde and a girl with jet-black hair, had yet to have their turn, their uniforms pristine. Take your best shot! Last chance to pie the tricaptains!

Looking good, Cassie, Julia called out to the pied cheerleader, another friendly acquaintance from school. Didn't you graduate? Why are you still doing this stuff?

It's the traditional send-off, plus we can raise some money for the sisters, Cassie cheerily responded. These uniforms aren't free, after all. How about it? Two bucks a pie, three for five dollars.

Steph stepped up to the booth and laid a fiver on the counter. I'll take three, she said, grinning merrily. She'd been the starting pitcher on the varsity softball team, and was a good all-around athlete. You're up, Ashlee, she said, motioning to the girl towering over Cassie's right shoulder. Ashlee was very tall, nearly six feet, and possessed a dancer's lithe, streamlined figure. Her straight blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail.

The booth was low budget affair, and did not even have a cut out plywood board for the girls to stick their heads through. Instead, one of them had painted an orange X on the grass about ten feet behind the counter. Ashlee smirked and stood on her mark.

Say let me have it, Steph quipped. Julia noticed that Steph seemed to really be enjoying this. Had one of these girls wronged Steph in some way? If they did, it sure didn't show. They seemed to be enjoying themselves as well.

Let me have it! Ashlee exclaimed, and Steph let the pie fly in a perfect shallow arc from her hand to Ashlee's pretty face, where it exploded in a corona of cream and crust. The tin hung for a second and dropped to Ashlee's bare feet, which were delicately spattered with topping. She blinked a few times, trying to clear her eyes without wiping the pie off, but it was useless. The heavy thick cream adhered to her face and she had to pluck pie from her eye with one long finger. A crowd gathered around, laughing. Julia heard snippets of conversation from nearby onlookers.

Oh that poor girl!

How'd you like to do that to me?

She must be so embarrassed.

Nice toss!

Ashlee licked her lips and laughed along with the crowd. Julia had to hand it to her. If she were in Ashlee's spot, she admitted to herself, she'd be totally mortified.

Next, Jordan! Steph called out, and this time the only unsullied girl remaining dropped her head and blushed just a little. I guess Jordan isn't as thrilled to be here as Ashlee is, Julia thought.

Jordan Simone, one of the finalists for Miss Teen Rhode Island, timidly put her feet on the orange X and tucked her chin in to her chest in a defensive maneuver. Her long, wavy black hair flowed over her shoulders and covered the letter on her chest. She sheepishly shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

C'mon, Jordan, get that chin up. Give me a decent target! Steph shouted forcefully. She was really into this! Jordan, a nervous expression gracing her gorgeous face, apprehensively tilted her chin up. In her second of opportunity, Steph heaved the pie toward Jordan. As if flew, Jordan did not duck, but she flinched just enough to bring her chin back down and her arms to the sides of her face. The leading edge of the pie caught her on the top of her forehead, and the bottom half of the pie arrived a split second later, hitting her squarely on the chin. The cream jetted from the tin and coated her curly black locks, but the majority of the overflow was directed downwards, into her cleavage. Fluffy white curls of cream and broken slabs of crust coated her chest and neck.

Jordan could not get the pie wiped from her face fast enough. With two quick swipes from her hands, which acted like windshield wipers, she had cleared 90% of the mess from her face. Her chest was another matter. She sputtered and tiny dabs of cream flew from her lips as she stumbled to the counter for the towel.

That leaves just one person, Steph said. Cassie walked over to the spot she had occupied previously that evening and prepared for another pie in the face. She gamely leaned forward and cried, Let me have it! Steph picked up the last of her three pies and balanced it on the tips of her fingers, lowering her hand up and down, teasing Cassie before what everyone suspected would be another flawless toss.

Julia was growing tired of this game and wanted it to be over. She moved away from the table a few steps. She was embarrassed for the girls, even if they seemed to be enjoying themselves, apart from Jordan, of course.

Steph continued, But you don't understand. You've been pied, Jordan's been pied, and Ashlee's been pied. The only one who hasn't been pied isME! With that, she smashed the final pie into her own face, giving the tin a little twist before letting it fall off. A circle of crust, cracked in parts but remarkably intact, held fast to the cream underneath. Steph stood there nodding, satisfied with her comedic effort, as chunks of crust gradually slid off her face, licking her hair and dress on their way to splattering on her pretty feet. Finally, she bent over laughing, joined by the other girls. Even Jordan was considerably cheered by this unexpected turn. The crowd went wild, cheering Steph for instituting her own pieing.

Julia was not amused. She was horrified that Steph had trashed the makeup job she'd given her earlier, and there was pie all over the dress she'd loaned her, too. She stood apart from the pied girls, who were winding down their cackling fits and getting cleaned up. Cassie passed a clean towel to Steph and Steph managed to get most of the pie off before coming over to Julia.

Did you see that? Where were you? Wow, I really let myself have it. I think I've got pie in my ear. Sure enough, she hooked a small bit of topping from inside her ear and flicked it on the ground.

You've ruined that dress, and it's only eight o'clock! I don't want to drive back to your house so you can change. Julia pouted.

It's OK. I tossed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt in the trunk of my car before I picked you up. I always keep a towel back there for any impromptu trips to the beach, and there's got to be a hose around here somewhere.

Sure enough, there was a hose at the concession stand, and Steph sprayed herself down, wetting her hair thoroughly and rinsing any remaining food from it. The top of her sundress got soaked, but she and Julia made it quickly to the parking lot, where Steph changed into her stowed clothes from behind the safety of her beach towel. Fresh and clean, Steph and Julia each took a nip of the flask's contents, and felt the warmth of the tequila spread through them. They headed back to the carnival.

Crossing in front of the strongman's stage, they stopped to appreciate the rippling physique of the body-builder, Ox Oxen. He was over six feet tall, entirely shaved and tanned from head to toe, and exquisitely laced with lean, hard muscle. He wore the strongman's traditional bright red striped singlet. Aside from the shaved head, he looked nothing like the stereotypical, cartoonishly bloated carnival strongman. Ox was little more than a healthy farmboy who happened to spend all day lifting weights and doing feats of strength. He made so little money on the carnival tour that he couldn't feed himself enough calories to build the massive bulk of powerlifters, but he was nearly as strong nonetheless.

Julia tensed as he pulled a four-foot iron bar from the side of the stage. He placed it behind his neck and overhand-gripped it, Ox drew a massive breath, his enormous lungs expanding, his striated chest muscles flexing. Julia felt the warmth of the tequila coursing through her chest and groin. Now Ox powered his body to bend the bar, his shoulders, biceps, traps, lats and pectorals flaring. Meanwhile, Ox breathed calmly through his nose as he executed the feat. The bar creaked and groaned as it twisted to his will, his hands passing finally beneath each other. Julia fantasized of running her hands over his athletic body, of licking his taut belly, of cradling his erect cock in her hands and taking it in her mouth...

Ox continued the show, bending the bar into a yoke for himself, trapping his head in an iron collar. Ox's hands dropped to his sides and he stood, seemingly astonished at his current predicament. The sideshow barker chirped, Now you done it again, Ox! You gone and collared yourself! Ox blushed. That's why they call him the Ox, folks. He's just as strong, and just as dumb! The crowd guffawed and Ox shamefacedly grabbed the ends of the bar once again. He freed himself from his self-made prison and dropped the mangled bar to the stage. A man from the front of the crowd snatched it, and another man grabbed the opposite end of the bar. The two tried desperately to exert enough force between them to straighten it or even move the bar minutely, but it was fruitless.

Julia watched the strongman as he prepared his next feat of strength, the drone of the barker's jibes fading as she fantasized and stared at his perfect body. Steph too was speechless at the sight of the built young man. They stood back and to the side of his stage, which adjoined a small fortune-telling booth. A young gypsy woman with wisps of dark brown hair poking out from under her headwear also was appreciating the view of the Olympian on stage.. The sultry gypsy eavesdropped on the girls' conversation.

I'd like to give him a bite of my pie, if you know what I mean. Julia said. She visualized reclining on a bed, clean sheets beneath her, her knees bent and legs apart, looking down at the top of Ox's shaved head as he tongued her clit. She shifted her weight from side to side, swaying gently and slightly grinding her hips.

The gypsy turned red as she watched Steph giggle. These two kept no secrets from one another. Steph knew that Julia loved a man performing oral sex on her. She said it was the only way she could come, and when a man did it right, she came within a minute or two.

Does your pie taste like banana cream? Steph asked, blushing. The gypsy fumed behind them, muttering under her breath and wringing her handkerchief.

All right, enough pie jokes. I can't even believe you hit yourself with a pie. It's so humiliating The fuming gypsy brightened, noting Julia's fear of being pied.

Try it. You might like it. It feels nice, all smooth and creamy. Doesn't taste bad either.

Yeah, but all those people around were laughing at you. Didn't you feel a little self-conscious? Julia added.

You take yourself so seriously. I should have hit you with the pie!

Oh, I'd have DIED. Just died, right there on the spot! The gypsy woman had seen and heard enough of these girls, who openly ogled and coveted the boyish strongman. She darkened, scowling, as she left her tent. Stalking quickly behind them, she grabbed each by the shoulder and spun the startled girls around. She reached into the folds of her costume, drawing some herbs from a secret pocket of her skirts. She ground the herbs between her fingers, blew them into the girls' faces, and said, When you come, it comes.

The girls coughed and blinked bits of herb from their eyelashes. What the fuck? What's your problem? Julia and Steph were too startled by this herbal assault to defend themselves. It was all just too bizarre.

The gypsy glowered at the younger girls, then retreated into the back of her tent, where she drew a gauzy curtain around herself. The stupefied girls were rooted to their spots by the side of the stage, and they made no attempt to follow or question the mysterious and scary gypsy any further.

What did she say? Steph asked Julia.

I think she said, 'When you come, it comes.' What the hell does that mean?

Do you think she heard what we were saying about the strongman? About oral?

Julia blushed. I think she heard everything. I wonder if they're together, the strongman and the gypsy...I suppose they travel around together, stuff happens, people hook up. She definitely heard us. I think she put a curse on us, too. That was a curse she laid on us, but what does it mean?

Steph repeated it. When you come, it comes. That could mean anything. We should go talk to her, explain ourselves. She'll remove the curse. This is just great. I come to the fair to get laid, and I end up getting cursed by a gypsy.

Julia scoffed. Are you saying you believe in curses? Are you serious?

Maybe I do and maybe I don't, but I don't want some curse hanging over me my whole life. My grandmother says never cross a gypsy!

Please. Your grandma also believes in fairies. Besides, if gypsies had any weird powers, do you think they'd be working in traveling carnivals, making just enough money to get by? No, they'd be rich and powerful and get whatever they want. Let's just go and enjoy the rest of the night. Maybe you'll get pied again. Maybe I'll hook up with Ox behind the Bearded Lady's tent. Who knows?

Steph cheered, dropping the matter of the mysterious gypsy, and gathered her composure. She wiped the last of the herbs from the shoulder of her t-shirt and they went off toward the carnival games. She figured the games may have been rigged, but unlike with gypsy's curses, at least you knew what you were getting.

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Later that night, as the crowds thinned, Julia passed the strongman's garishly illustrated trailer, hearing voices from within. She was looking for Steph--she hadn't seen her for an hour or so, when Steph had gone off with Steve Amonte to ride some of the amusements. Inside the trailer, the barker's nasal drawl was instantly noticeable, but the accompanying voice, soft and plain, must have belonged to the famous Ox Oxen.

I don't see why we have to do the jokes about me being dumb, Randy. Seems like enough of a show to have me lift things, bend bars, and swing the mallet, the soft voice stated. And besides, I at least got a high school diploma. More than any education you got.

You're right there, Randy, the showman, replied. I was educated here on the road, and I tell ya, every show's got a strongman. You need somethin more to get the crowds to love you.

But that's just the point. They don't love me. They think I'm a moron. They laugh at me.

Look, college boy, I'm the boss and you're the talent, and you aint been at this too long, so I'll share a secret with you. No one cares if you're a moron or a genius. They just want a show, and that body of yours is the show, at least for the ladies and all the queers. For the guys out there, they're jealous a' you. They don't want you stealin' their ladies' glances. Makes 'em feel better to think you're a retard. That's the premise of the act, and that's the way it stays.

The door to the trailer swung open, and the barker sauntered out and down the three stairs. He passed into the darkening night. The door swung open again, and Ox came out, sitting down on the steps, a glass of milk in his hand and a huge, loose Metallica t-shirt covering his torso. The iconic striped singlet poked from underneath the blousy tee. He sighed, his eyes downcast.

Julia stepped forward, into the shallow light cast by his trailer's interior glow. Up close, she saw how boyish he really was. His body was that of a man, but his face was open and friendly, clean-shaven, of course, and handsome, in a cornfed, All-American way.

Hi, she said. I didn't mean to, but I was walking by and heard your conversation. Seems like eavesdropping is big tonight. He didn't understand her allusion to the incident with the gypsy earlier, but he didn't press her for an explanation. I guess they say show business is rough, right?

Yeah, he replied, taking a sip of his milk. Julia did notice him sizing her up from her toes on up, finally breaking into a grin at the sight of her pretty, smiling face. I guess it is. I'm still getting used to it.

I'm Julia. You must be Ox.

That's my stage name. You can call me Sean. Sean Hughes just doesn't have the right ring for show business. Least, that's what Randy told me when he hired me last year. Want to sit down? He scooched his powerful body over on the steps, leaving a space on the second step for Julia to sit alongside him.

She took a seat next to him, marveling at the ropy muscles crowding his forearms. She said, You've only been doing this a year? You look like you've trained for this your whole life.

Sean smiled warmly and turned his head toward hers. Nah. I trained lifting sows, haybales, and truck tires. My muscles didn't know any difference between them and barbells. I got like this workin on a farm. Played a little football in high school too. Didn't play enough to get a college scholarship though. Always was too busy helping out my dad with the farm to practice much. Had to quit the team finally. What's your story?

I'm studying nursing at college in Boston. Got a couple years left. Home for the summer, you know. I came here with a friend of mine. She was the one who hit herself with the pie at the pie booth earlier tonight.

Hey, I saw that! That was great! Randy said he wants to hire her. Said she's got a real sense of showbiz, knows how to work a crowd.

Julia noticed how excited he became at the mention of Steph's pieing, and against her instincts, a small trill of nervous excitement rippled through her, her heart skipping a beat and a breath catching in her throat. What was that about? she thought.

Yeah, that was pretty funny. She's always been a bit of a performer. Julia jealously imagined her friend and the strongman hooking up, the two performers together arm in arm, Steph's face covered in pie and his heaving chest covered in a sheen of hot sweat. More synapses fired in her brain, and a warm tingle grew in her loins. Sean, sensing something happening, stood up.

Can I offer you something to drink? I only have milk in my trailer, but I can get a few beers off Randy if you want one.

Julia smiled and reached into her bag for her flask. I brought my own, she said confidently. This farm boy was too sweet--all he has was milk! She was smitten with the thought of this gorgeous, simple, kind boy kissing her, and where those kisses might lead. She also hoped he wasn't such a mama's boy that he disapproved of her drinking. She offered the flask. Want a taste?

Don't mind if I do, he replied, taking the flask and tipping it back to accept a mouthful of the warm tequila. He swallowed, grimacing slightly. Reminds me of Uncle Earl's 'shine--bit smoother, though. Heck, sandpaper's smoother than ole Earl's 'shine. The liquor's bite opened him up--his muscles relaxed and some florid color came into his face. His eyes danced.

He sat back down next to Julia, and for the next hour, they got to know each other. He was eighteen months her senior, despite his boyish countenance. He told her of growing up on the farm in Kansas with his four younger siblings, two boys and two girls, of losing his mother to breast cancer seven years ago, of doing whatever he could to help out his dad. Sean kept his grades high enough to get into the state university, but the money was a problem. He'd taken the strongman job so he could see the country and earn a few bucks, all of which he was saving to go to college. Maybe someday.

Julia told Sean of her boredom with growing up in suburban Providence, where she played the good girl until going off to college. She talked about why she was drawn to nursing, what the career offered her, and the opportunities that awaited her when school was all done. She left out stories of the sexual adventures she'd had in her first years of college, and wondered if this simple, sweet boy might not have as much experience as she did, despite having the body of Adonis. Between stories and questions, they happily drank from the flask, leaving them both buzzed and cheerful, and perhaps talking a little too loudly outside the strongman's trailer.

Later in the evening, about ten-thirty, all the parents had taken the little kids home. Those kids that remained were asleep in tired parents' arms. Yet, in another way, the carnival was just getting started. The teens and twenty-somethings were playing games and watching some of the scattered sideshows, thrilled to be alive. Many had smoked a little weed, or like Julia and Sean, had taken a few drinks to loosen up. The night belonged to the young and beautiful

Sean passed the flask one last time to Julia, whose finger lingered on the back of his hand as they exchanged the silver vessel. She grasped his veiny, bronzed wrist and pulled him to her, kissing him in the same movement. He was not startled at all, and he returned her kiss fully, passionately. His free hand looped around her waist and he lifted her effortlessly against him, pulling her onto her toes and pressing her against himself. Through the singlet and the oversized t-shirt, his cock stiffened against the soft flesh of her belly. She pressed her legs together, feeling herself growing moist, and she reached down to stroke his hard penis over the fabric. He moaned, and she wasn't far behind. She purred as he lifted the short back of her dress and cupped her ass in one powerful palm.

Let's go inside, he whispered into her ear. She briefly considered what the inside of a carny's trailer might look like, and decided to risk it. She was pleasantly surprised to discover the trailer was small, yes, but not cluttered, and very neat and clean. A (made) double bed occupied a corner, a small fridge serving as a side table. A foldaway table was hung from the wall on hinges, and a pair of folding chairs were tucked behind the door. A few shelves held personal items and paperback books.

Wow. This wasn't what I was expecting at all, Julia commented as she stepped inside. She sat on the side of the bed as he locked the door and dimmed the light. When he turned back to her, she slipped the straps of her dress from her shoulders and pulled down the top of her dress, the material gathering around her waist. One-handedly, she removed her bra and dropped it to the floor with a smirk. She reached for his manhood, groping it and then sliding her hand up to grasp the t-shirt. Standing, she lifted his shirt up over his head as her own dress dropped to the floor, leaving her wearing only a pair of ruffly pink panties and her shoes. She sat back down on the bed as he removed his comical singlet and exposed his erect cock. He knelt in front of her and gently removed her shoes, kissing the tops of each foot as the shoes were removed. He looked up at her pink panties, noticing the growing dark wet spot between her legs, and it was then he became aware of a light, pleasant odor wafting through the trailer.

His nose was filled with the smell of--could it be?--a bakery. Butter and sugar and dough, and sweet, syrupy smells flooded his senses, and his nose was drawn between her legs, to the source of the attraction. Her slick liquid excitement was visible through her panties and shone glossy on the insides of her thighs, and his tongue instinctively sought a taste. He licked her juice from her thighs and she bucked slowly, grinding her flower closer to his probing tongue. He tasted her through her sodden panties, and his senses were oversaturated with bakery tastes and smells. She was a creamy sweet dessert, and he greedily sucked her alluring sugar from between her legs.

Julia felt her orgasm build from deep within herself--still a minute or two away, but definitely on its way. She moved her hips rhythmically to his tongue, and when he pulled aside her panties to plunge his tongue deep inside her, she gasped and unwittingly brought her knees closer together, gripping Sean's head in place. She relaxed, and he gently slipped the panties off her as she leaned back further onto his bed. She guessed he'd try to enter her now--she was certainly ready, and his giant, throbbing erection looked good-to-go as well. From her past experiences, she expected that the foreplay was over. It was too bad--though it had been only a minute or two, she was so close to coming--but on the other hand, she wanted his cock inside her. Instead, he returned to her pussy, licking delicately at her outer folds before heading deeper and more central. Finally, he flicked his tongue playfully at her swollen clit, and she knew she was going to explode very soon.

My God, Sean muttered as he licked her hot, tender, wet center. She looked down between her legs--the exact fantasy she'd had earlier that night was coming true!--and saw his tongue darting out of his mouth, his chin and face slick with her moisture. He was talking to her

I've never tasted anything quite like this...like you, I mean. I swear, one second you taste like a birthday cake, and the next you taste like...I can't place it, but I think it's banana cream pie. He went back to work on her, tasting every inch of her sex. She moaned and leaned back on the bed as the orgasmic wave took over her body, releasing pure pleasure into her brain and body. As she came, she closed her eyes and reveled in the grip of coming, coming hard. She felt something, an involuntary release deep within her, and she flashed back to the gypsy's curse, When you come, it comes

Julia felt something cool and creamy splatter against the insides of her thighs, and she heard Sean's groans of pleasure suddenly muffled. Opening her eyes, she peered between her legs to see Sean looking up at her, his face covered in pie cream and crust. He looked ridiculous, but he didn't seem upset. In fact, based on his pulsing erection, he was anything but upset. He slurped pie from his upper lip and smiled, the crust cracking and falling with heaps of white cream directly onto her vagina. Despite her shock, she moaned at the pleasant sensation of the cool cream against her.

She sat up, recovering herself and reaching for her dress. What the hell just happened? Who's in here with us? Who threw that pie? Is this some kind of joke?

On his knees by the side of the bed, Sean bemusedly cleared his eyes of pie filling. Little slices of banana clung to his once handsome, now unrecognizable face, and a halo of cream was spread across his collarbones and chest.

I guess you're the kind of girl they call a squirter. I've never seen a girl come quite like you do! A dollop of cream fell from his chin and landed on the tip of his cock. He moaned and rubbed the cream along his shaft. He groaned as he stimulated himself, standing in front of Julia by the side of the bed. He definitely was not weirded out by this bizarre, unexplainable occurrence. In fact, it seemed just the opposite. She never seen a man so turned on, and forgetting the immediate mystery of the splattered pie between her legs, she grasped his cock, pushing his own hands aside and taking him inside her mouth. She moved her lips and tongue along his hot, urgent cock, and tasted the delicious cream for herself. He was right! It was banana cream! Her own pleasure grew once more, and she felt the heat rise along her spine and spread to her groin.

Sean, feeling himself about to ejaculate, withdrew from her mouth, trying not to hit her in the face with his load. (It was just their first date after all.) But the excitement of having this beautiful, interesting, sexy, mysterious, naked, creamy girl was too much, and as soon as he got the tip of his dick from her mouth, he came gloriously.

And that's when Julia's world went white. Pie exploded all over her gorgeous face, splattering cream in her hair, bits of crust clinging to her destroyed visage, other bits falling to her shoulders or gathering in her lap. At first, she had no idea what hit her, but again the gypsy's words came back to her.

When you come, it comes

Julia spluttered, tiny bits of cream flying to land on Sean's cut abs. She was filled with shame to be so humiliated in front of such a gorgeous man, yet she felt an urgent need in her groin and that unmistakable feeling of sexual excitement building inside her. This humiliation was so exciting. She thought of Steph pieing herself and her passion multiplied. Maybe Steph knew something about getting pied that Julia didn't--or at least hadn't--before this impossibly bizarre encounter with Sean. He was covered in pie, she was covered in pie, and both of them were coursing with sexual energy.

Powerless to stop themselves and question these events, Sean and Julia collapsed into each other's arms, kissing furiously and squishing and rolling in pie glop while his erection gradually built again, and Julia edged closer and closer to another orgasm. Again he dove between her thighs, saying, Now you taste like coconut cream pie! This is the best pussy I've ever had, that's for sure.

Julia, wanting to see if the same creamy explosion happened again as she came, kept her eyes open this time, and just before she came, she pushed back Sean's head, giving herself some space to see what happened as she hit her climax. She fingered her clit and brought herself to orgasm, biting her lower lip and staring to see if anything shot from her sex organ. She felt the same ecstatic release and saw a pie appear out of the thin air between her legs, traveling straight for Sean's waiting face, where it splattered. He moaned in absolute pleasure, licked the cream greedily from his pied face, and stroked his cock. Julia pulled him down on top of her and insistently straddled his member. He plunged into her cream covered vagina and fucked her hard, cream dripping onto her chest from his face. She was loving being railed so hard by this magnificent and cream-covered man, and yet she felt anxious about where this was going. If he came inside her, she wouldn't get pied again. Isn't that what she wanted? She decided it wasn't.

Julia pulled away from him, grabbed his cock in her hands, and once, just once, licked the underside of his shaft from the root to the tip, tasting her own coconut-creamy flavor on his dick. He shuddered instinctively and shot creamy cake icing all over her expectant, waiting face. She fiddled with her clit and came again, splattering French silk all over her inner thighs. She leaned back, spent and terribly messy, a white mask of dessert all over her face, but deeply satisfied. In fact, she was as satisfied as she'd ever been.

They didn't talk much as they cleaned his trailer, but they did giggle and touch each other, occasionally licking or kissing certain spots of their creamy bodies, but never so much that they got back into their frantic and messy sexual escapades. When the big messes were corralled, they entered Sean's tiny shower together--it was barely big enough for him, but they managed to totally clean their bodies.

Sean put on fresh clothes and Julia reattired herself, pausing to sniff her own delicious, bakery-scented panties before sliding them back on under her sundress. Their creamy tryst had taken only about ten minutes, but it was the sex of both their lifetimes. They'd been too engulfed in the passion of the moment to question the craziness, the impossibility of it all. Then again. a thought crept into the back of Julia's mind about that cryptic curse

Do you know that gypsy that travels with the carnival? You must, right? Julia offered, to broach the insane topic of a gypsy's curse that resulted in lovers spraying each other with creamy desserts.

Esmerelda? Sure. Yeah, I know her well enough, but I try to stay away from her. She's trouble. She's been trying to get me into her bed ever since I joined up with this crowd.

I see. Think she has a little something for you? Do you know if she's the jealous type?

Aren't all gypsies? I mean, they're kinda known for their passion, carrying grudges, putting curses on people, stuff like that, the ingenuous young strongman replied.

I think she's behind the...er, messiness of our sex here tonight. Not that I'd change anything. It was great, after all. I had no idea I had that in me.

Neither did I. What do ya mean about the gypsy?

Earlier tonight, my friend Steph and I were watching you perform. We were talking about you, about your body, about what we'd like to do to you, and what we'd like you to do with us. Julia blushed a little to recount her fantasies to their object. The gypsy was eavesdropping on us. She heard us, and then she came up and put a curse on both of us. She said, 'When you come, it comes.' It was right out of a Stephen King book.

Or maybe a Three Stooges short, Sean added. Julia laughed at the ridiculousness of the evening, her behavior, and her new sexual ability. She wasn't upset, but she still wanted to know if this curse would be permanent, if every time she came for the rest of her life, a pie would ejaculate from her nether regions and splatter into any face that happened to be there at the time. It was some weird gypsy magic, beyond the pale of reason, but she had questions nonetheless. Messy it was, inconvenient too, but damn if pie-face sex wasn't also hot as hell and deeply satisfying. She'd found it humiliating and erotic at the same time, the one aspect heightening the other.

Let's go see her. I want to know about this curse. I get why she cursed me, but why did I get a faceful of pie when you came? Her private thoughts flashed: Did I pass the curse along to Sean? And what about Steph? Was she experiencing a similar phenomenon? If it hadn't happened to Steph yet, would it eventually? Did she even WANT the curse removed? That was the best sex of her life, after all.

They left Sean's trailer just short of midnight, closing time, and walked to the dark tent next to the strongman's stage, which would be broken down in the morning. Steph slid the curtain aside and stepped into a surprisingly large space adorned in black lace and beads, lit by a glowing ball in the center of the room, atop a small wooden table. The gypsy sat smugly behind the crystal ball, her legs open, sitting like a man sits. She was darkly beautiful, her fine eyebrows tapered to movie-villainess pointiness.

End of part one.