The Battered Lamp Chapter Eight: The Dream of the Genie - Sex Stories

The Battered Lamp Chapter Eight: The Dream of the Genie

... hard time imagining his father as anything but straitlaced and by the books before he died over in Afghanistan a few years ago. “With whom?” Fatima asked. “Mom?” Uncle Ethan grinned. “Yeah.” “Wow.” Her eyes burned with mirth. “I never thought mom would ever do anything wrong.” “You have no idea.” Fatima pestered their uncle the entire drive, her mind aflame with speculation on what sort of trouble their parents had gotten up to in High School. Kyle had a hard time imaging his parents as anything other than responsible adults. To him, it was like they had just been tinier adults as children, and didn't do any of the stupid, fun, or reckless things teenagers do. Fumi was at practice. She looked as beautiful as ever, and her kiss fanned the passion in him, like a wind driving a firestorm. He wanted to fuck her so bad. Her scent was intoxicating. And she was so beautiful: pale-olive skin; dark, almond-shaped eyes with thick lashes; a lithe body that pressed against him. She smiled at him, and gave a shy wave. Practice can wait! he decided. *Aaliyah. I want to fuck Fumi without being noticed.* She didn't respond. He frowned, and tried again. Nothing. His heart beat faster. She's probably just sleeping. “Come on, Kyle!” his uncle shouted. “It's time for warm ups.” *Aaliyah!* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “I have something for you,” Christy said, stepping up to the Djinn as Aaliyah watched Kyle and Fatima drive off with their uncle. “What?” Aaliyah asked, turning from the living ...

... room window to look at her wife, curiosity stirring within her. Christy smiled, a thin, tight expression. “A thank you gift for what you've done to Kyle.” The pale-faced teen pulled out a narrow box from her pocket covered in some sort of black felt. It looked like a pencil case, but the Djinn's instincts told her something more valuable was inside. Aaliyah took the box eagerly; it felt heavy—jewelry. She opened it. Silver and gold glinted inside. A necklace of a serpent biting its own tale. Half-gold and half-silver, hanging from a delicate chain, the links alternating gold and silver. She held it up, admiring the details of the serpent's scales. Delight filled her; it was such a beautiful gift. “Thank you!” the Djinn gushed, bringing it up to her throat. The metal was cold against her skin. She glanced at Christy and saw hunger burning in her eyes. Her smile twisted, becoming vindictive and triumphant. The clasps clicked as she fastened. Her body felt heavy, her limbs felt like they were made of sand. She fell down, landing half on the couch, bouncing, and rolling onto the carpeted floor. What's going on! Panic seized her. She couldn't move, her body below the neck—below the amulet—wouldn't respond to her commands. “What's going on, Christy?” she asked, staring up at her wife. “The amulet...” Her words trailed off as she saw the look in Christy's eyes. “Is working perfectly.” “Help!” she screamed. “Someone help me! Christy's attacked me!” “What's wrong?” Alexina shouted ...