It's like Pirates of the Caribbean. "You best start believin' in ghost stories, Miss Turner. You're in one!" Except instead of turning into a skeleton, I turn into a slut.

I'll save you the origin story for now. I'm a woman in my 40s and I've been dealing with this since I first learned I didn't like going to bars. I hate getting drunk and I hate getting treated like an object by every man who's had a few beers in him. Unless I'm in the moonlight. Then I'm a woman in my 20s who loves partying and getting looked at, and will fuck anything that moves.

I don't turn into a bimbo. I'm a smart prude in the day and I'm a smart slut at night. When I set my mind to it, I will get laid, whether I want to or not.

I've been working with a witch named Lucille to get this curse dispelled. Normally, it gets lifted when the bearer becomes pregnant, but obviously I got my tubes tied the moment I realized "abstinence until marriage" was not an option for me. It's slow going, and unfortunately I can only meet her after work at her coffee shop, which in February means the moon is out before I can even get there.

This evening it was shining particularly bright.

I stood by the exit to my office, looking up at the sky hoping to find a cloud so I had a window of time to escape before running into—

"Need an umbrella?" Dammit. I turned to see Matthew Hedge grinning at me. The hotshot at my firm who used to think he could get every woman he wanted, until he met me. Then he thought it again, once he learned my secret.

"Wouldn't be thick enough," I said. "I hid under a thick blanket once and it still wasn't enough." I had to throw out that blanket afterwards, a simple wash could not undo what had been done to it.

Hedge had a reason to think he was all that - he was charismatic, handsome, and had a thick cock. He had other qualities that I'm sure other people liked about him, but those were the only things I liked about him, and only in the moonlight. At all other times he was chauvinistic, arrogant, and had a cock that was wholly irrelevant to our interactions.

Which is why what he said next surprised me: "You need a chauffer. A chaperone."

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Someone who'll get you where you need to go without fucking you in the process. Someone who'll lead you on long enough that you won't get distracted and chase after someone else. Someone immune to your charm.

I laughed. "So you're immune to my charm?" I was the one immune to his. Most of the time.

Hedge laughed back. "No offense to the slut version of you, Jordan, but you're not the best I've ever had. Third best at most."

"I think that counts as negging, Hedge. If you're so immune, why are you flirting with me?"

"You're flirting too, Jordan," he said, and I stopped laughing.

We stood in silence for a bit, the moonlight illuminating the roads. I was not flirting with that asshole Matthew Hedge. I hated my moonlit-self for being desperate enough to humor him.

Eventually, he spoke. "It's a real offer, by the way. Not that I expect you to trust it."

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, right. "Absolutely not. The only reason you haven't pushed me into the moonlight is because the security cameras would make it an easy HR meeting."

Hedge frowned. "Fine. I'll get out of your way, then." He walked out into the moonlight, where I can never tread unless I know I'm alone, found his car, and drove off.

I waited a good several minutes, until I was sure no one else was around, and stepped out. The change was instant. My skin smoothed out as youth returned to it. My nails became longer, manicured and glossy. My lips plumped, gaining a ruby red coat of lipstick, while my nose shrank, becoming cuter, and a few layers of makeup touched up imperfections even as they disappeared, making my eyes pop and my cheeks blush. My brea— my tits ballooned out to four times their size, while my waist tucked in and my ass and thighs plumped up. I gained a thigh gap.

At the same time, my clothes changed. My business suit was replaced with a tight, revealing top that squeezed me in all the right places and booty shorts that hid the thinnest thong you could wear. My work heels became higher, and pinker. My bra disappeared outright, letting my now-torpedo nipples poke out prominently.

And of course, my priorities changed. All those things I'd hoped to avoid, I now desired. I felt so sexy in this outfit, in this body, and I wished I'd taken up Hedge on his offer, I wished he'd doubled back on it and we were making out in his car right now. His cock hit the spot just right last time, and I wanted to know how it felt to bury it between my fat tits.

The woman I was most of the time always felt strange looking back at this body, since I normally felt that a body part could not — should not — be considered inherently sexual. But come on, every part of me was sexed up to the max. I was handcrafted by God or an evil wizard or whatever to be as sexual as possible. My ass jiggled just right, my thighs squeezed deliciously, my lips fit perfectly around a cock, even my eyes were made for the bedroom.

And Hedge said I was only third best? Please. Either he was full of shit, or those were two women I just had to fuck.

"Change of plans, Lucille. I'm not going to your fuck-ass shop." The only curse I wanted to cure was an itch that needed scratching. I started my strut not to the subway, but to an outdoor bar I knew had a live band playing this time of night.

I was so focused on imagining the hot guys in my future that I unwittingly passed under a brick archway just thick enough to fully engulf me in its shadow, and just as instantly my body and mind returned to normal. I grimaced. Of course moonlight-me would screw with my plans, in addition to screwing with anyone I met along the way.

I considered my options. Leaving the archway would immediately turn me back into a horny slut who, vitally, had no interest in making it to Lucille's. I could turn back, but then moonlight-me would just walk around the archway. At best, I was trapped here until morning. At worst…

I reached a hand forward into the moonlight, watching it instantly change where the light caught it. The blemishes of age disappeared, the nail polish returned. My hand itched for something to wrap itself around. I retreated it back into shadow, and the itch disappeared along with its youth and glamour. I'd done this all before; stuck each individual body part out into moonlight to see with a clear mind how it reacts. My chest doesn't even have to leave the shadow itself - if it gets close enough, my gigantic tits materialize in the space they would occupy in the light, begging to be touched.

"Okay," I sighed, "you win. We'll find a guy, or a girl, or three guys or whatever you're in the mood for, and have fun. But can I please go to Lucille's afterwards? Hell, I'll help you seduce her if that's what it takes to convince you."

I didn't have to say it out loud - I obviously knew what I was thinking regardless of how I was feeling, so just coming up with the deal was enough for moonlight-me to know about it. But I'd hoped that saying it out loud was clear enough to get me to forget the sheer reluctance of that last part.

Lucille was… not my type. I mean regardless of my state of mind. I liked all types of guys, and gorgeous party girls. Lucille seemed like she could party if she wanted to, but she had the worst sense of fashion and aesthetic I had ever seen. Still, a lay was a lay, and I was offering in good faith. Plus she probably ate pussy like she needed it to live.

I sighed and stepped into the light. I giggled. Three guys at once? I bit my lip just thinking about it. I barely had enough holes. I decided to consider what to do with my evening once I'd been sufficiently stuffed. Lucille could pass for cute if I'd had enough to drink.

I continued my trek, but before I got too far, a familiar car pulled up. I couldn't contain my grin. "Well well well," I said in a far sultrier voice than I previously possessed, as the car rolled down its window. "Matthew Hedge cannot resist me after all."

"I figured you needed a ride," Hedge winked. "I know I sure do."

I giggled, my pussy moistening in anticipation. I strutted around to the passenger seat, swaying my hips and making sure I felt his gaze, and then climbed into the car. "Your place or mine, handsome?" I leaned toward him, thrusting my chest out trying to catch his eyes sneaking glances. "Or should we just find a spot to pull over?"

Hedge put his hand on my thigh, sending tingles of excitement through me. "My place is getting repairs done. If we want privacy we should do your place."

"Maybe I don't want privacy," I winked. "But fine." I told him my address and we sped off.

The car roof didn't cast enough of a shadow to spoil my fun, but I kept near the windows anyway. Hedge used both hands to drive, like a prude, so I thought about entertaining myself by feeling myself up. It would be fun to distract him, but distracted driving had the potential to very much ruin the fun. Instead I kept myself busy with lewd thoughts, taking in the appearance of the hunk in front of me and imagining - remembering! - what he looks like naked.

I was as turned on as I always am in the moonlight, but if I wanted to stay like this, I needed to get even more worked up. Something about the curse let me stay in this form for a few minutes out of the moonlight if I was sufficiently aroused, and even longer if I had my holes filled. Fuck it, I decided to grope myself, imagining it was Hedge's strong hands, no wait that three guys idea was great, I imagined six rough hands feeling me up in all sorts of ways. Three copies of Hedge, except one was meaner than the main one and another was nicer.

I pouted. My own hands were never as fun as someone else's.

"What's it like?" Hedge asked, not even looking at me. Just focused on the road. "Going back and forth like that?"

He'd asked this before, the day after we had sex, but I wasn't feeling very forthcoming about it because I was so ashamed and frustrated with him. I was being a prude, so this time I decided to answer. "It's annoying. What I want is constantly changing, and it conflicts. I go out of my way all the time to prevent my own happiness. Like, why bother?" Hedge didn't answer, so I continued. "I should just let myself have sex when I want and let myself not have sex when I don't want."

"Sounds like an opinion you won't have in 8 hours," Hedge mused.

This conversation wasn't hot enough for my liking. "I guess I'll just have to have my fun while I can." I put my hand on his thigh, imagining that it drove him crazy wondering if I'd go any farther while he was still driving. I saw a bulge poke out of his slacks, and it was all I could do to keep my hands off it. God, I needed him.

After a painfully long amount of time, we finally arrived at my apartment. I dragged him to the door, groping and giggling before remembering I was the one with the key. I tried to kiss him, but he just said "Inside," so I pouted and we went in.

"Alright," I said, turning on the lights and hurrying to the nearest window to open the blinds. The light only made its way to my lower half but it still gave me time. "We've got about 10 seconds before you gotta start putting your hands on me, so enjoy the show."

I turned away from him and bent at the waist slightly, sliding my booty shorts slowly down my juicy ass, followed by my thong. I delicately stepped out of them, keeping my pink heels on. I kicked them away, where out of the moonlight they morphed back into boring pants and undies. Then I looked back at him.

I frowned. He wasn't even looking! "Hedge!" I called out to him. "Matt?" I cooed. "What's wrong?"

Hedge's gaze was caught on the ceiling off to the side. "Sorry, Jordan. Tonight, I'm a gentleman. I'm your chauffer."

I stamped my foot impotently. "You asshole!" I approached him, intending to give him a piece of my mind, or grab his hands and put them on my ass, or something. But I could feel it. The mood was ruined. I was still really horny, but my time ran out. By the time I got to him, my body aged and deflated, and my attitude flipped.

I started laughing. He stole a glance, and I immediately remembered I was naked from the waist down. I quickly redressed. "Okay," I laughed. "It's safe to look. You did a good job."

Hedge smiled at me, his normal cocky smile that I always found infuriating. "So I'm not an asshole?"

"Oh, you are," I said with a smile. "I'm just not mad about it right now. I walk over to that window, I'll be mad again."

Hedge shook his head. "You are a very conflicted person."

I got serious. "Why go out of your way to do this? You could have had a much better time tonight."

He thought for a moment before answering. "I thought it would make you happy. But now I'm not sure."

What the hell did that mean? "Since when do you care about my happiness?"

Hedge was shocked by this question. "Do you really think that little of me? No, I guess you probably do. The girls I go after tend to be…" he trailed off. "But I like you. Both versions of you, I mean. In different ways, but at the same time. And I'd like for that to be okay."

I sighed. "I have no idea what you're saying."

"Jordan," Hedge said seriously. "I have feelings for you. The person you are now. You're smart, responsible, and can get anything done. I want to take you out to dinner, hold your hand, and yes, step into the moonlight and fuck you senseless, and then when we're done I want to take you out of the moonlight, kiss your cheek and share things with you. I want to be your boyfriend."

I was so taken aback I accidentally caught my leg in the moonlight, the now-higher heel catching me off balance and making me step forward again. Matthew Hedge, the chauvinist with a new bimbo around his arm every week, wanted to date me. Well, he wanted to date both versions of me; he wasn't willing to give up that bimbo around his arm.

I started laughing. I could see worry creep on his face, and I put up a hand to reassure him. "You have a Madonna-whore complex. And I'm a Madonna-whore. Of course! We're perfect for each other!"

Hedge smiled, and chuckled nervously. "I guess I probably do. And you definitely are. You know, I got the sense that you're holding yourself back too much. You need to let yourself have some fun so you don't self-destruct."

"Oh, you're saying I need to start fucking more? Fucking you, specifically?"

"I mean, I wouldn't be mad if you did."

I never stopped laughing. "After years of searching, Matthew Hedge has finally found a situation where he can actually improve a woman's life with his penis!"

"Think about it, Jordan," he said. "You're constantly getting in your own way trying to stop yourself from doing what you want to do. What if you found something you wanted all of the time? What if you started working with yourself instead of against? And what if that thing you found was my cock?" He laughed, and I saw his point.

"Okay," I said, and then we were both quiet. He studied my face, and I continued. "Why not let myself be happy? We should at least see what happens."

Relief came over him, and he came to me and put his hands around my waist. I found my hands on his chest enjoying what they felt, even out of the moonlight. "So what now?" he asked.

In answer, I leaned in. He understood, and our lips met. It was the first time I'd kissed someone with a clear head since the curse activated. I'd almost forgotten how to kiss someone without a mountain of hunger behind it.

"So I should let myself be happy, huh?" I walked toward the window, my legs hitting the light first. Bare thigh exposed itself under my tight booty shorts. The ache in my pussy returned with a vengeance. I dipped down, engulfing my torso in light, feeling the weight of my massive tits drag me down even further. I bit my suddenly-plump lip, my youth returning, my priorities aligning, and my hunger magnifying.

I thought I was insatiable before, it was an entirely different story now that I'd given myself permission.

I stepped out of the light, not even entertaining the possibility of changing back; and it didn't happen. I was Matthew's slut for as long as I wanted to be. My entire body lit up with need for his touch, and I threw myself at him.

We made out hungrily as I slowly directed him toward my bedroom. My deft fingers found each button on his shirt and undid them one by one. I practically tore off his undershirt, and was finally rewarded with his bare chest. I ran my hands through his chest hair, tingling with excitement.

When I got the bedroom door open, he picked me up by my ass and threw me onto the bed. I squealed and bounced, already trying to throw my shorts off, kicking off my shoes. He unbuckled his belt. "Fuck me," I begged, tearing off my tight top, finally showing him my massive breasts, the part of me I was most proud of. I ran my hands up and down them, squeezing them in ways I knew appealed to him, and stimulating them for lack of any other release.

His cock free, my eyes were fixed. All other thoughts left my head. I almost leapt up and started sucking it, but my pussy was so needy that all I could do was grind my hips and soak my sheets in my own wetness.

He climbed on top of me, becoming my everything. His masculine scent overpowered me, his weight made me feel so small and vulnerable. He kissed me roughly on the mouth, and then down to the side of my neck. I whined and squirmed at the stimulation, desperate for direct attention but so close to the edge already. "Please," I breathed.

His strong hand found one of my tits and kneaded it, sending broiling pleasure through me, but only magnifying my desperation. I tried to reach down to his hard, thick cock, to pull it into myself, but he batted it away.

What happened to giving myself what I wanted, I was too incoherent with arousal to ask. Instead I whined and groaned. I couldn't formulate any words now. Just minutes ago, I had finally felt fully in control of myself, and now I had never been more of a squirming, wet mess, completely at his mercy.

Finally - finally - he lined his cock up with my pussy and found his way inside. He thrusted slowly, the pinnacle of self-control, and I sang. I could not contain the sounds escaping me, crescendo in time with his movement. He sped up. Pleasure itself entered me over and over, filling me and fulfilling me. Tears welled up in my eyes as I cried out. I wrapped my legs around his butt, urging him further into me.

I was hyperventilating. Was I cumming? My body convulsed as he thrusted. All I could think about was his cock and the wonderful things it did to me. Pleasure beyond pleasure. His cock and the way my body responded to it. His cock and the way my body made it thick and hot. How could I ever want to prevent this? How could I ever fight against this? I was made to feel this good, and to make others feel good.

His cock pulsed and he sped up even more, going as deep in as he could with each thrust. My hips thrust automatically in time with his. He was going to cum, he was going to drench me and I was going to cum again if I'd ever stopped cumming or maybe I was going to cum even harder. I was delirious with his scent and oh god his hand on my hip, claiming me as he came in me, and we both came, and he moaned deliciously in my ear as I screamed. His cock pumped his seed into me, and I gripped the sheets for lack of control over my own muscles tensing and relaxing in pleasure.

My screams eventually gave way to moans, which gave way to sighs as he relaxed on top of me for a moment before rolling over. "Holy shit," he said with a sigh. I couldn't say anything, just noises.

My whole body buzzed with satisfaction. I was still horny, but I was always horny when I was like this, and I wasn't sure I'd even be able to handle more. I couldn't help but smile up at the ceiling. That was incredible. We laid there for a while, just recovering.

Eventually I started to change back. Not instantly, like I was used to, but slowly. My skin aged, my breasts shrank and sagged slightly, my butt deflated and I could feel my waist lowering from the lack of extra padding. I felt my lower lip with my tongue, feeling it shrink in my mouth - feeling even my tongue change shape. My mind shifted too, just as slowly. Sex became something I didn't need, and then something I didn't care about; but I was still glad I did it. I expected that part to change, and it never did.

I'd missed my meeting with Lucille. But I wasn't too upset. Maybe I wouldn't lift the curse after all. Maybe that'd be okay.