Endless Opportunities

I want to thank Engwrites for the idea and support for this story. Without his help, this would be a much worse product with a much less tightly focused narrative. I know it's a little weird to have two stories in the works with similar general elements. I think you'll find that the tone, story and feel of this one is sufficiently different that the overlap exists only in the broadest of strokes. I'm still working on the other stories (all of them, even the slow coming Road to Hell) so don't worry. As always, I appreciate all the kind words and support from everyone.

*****

My name is Thomas and this is a weird story. It involves magic and wishes and genies and... shit... I'm getting ahead of myself. Why don't I just tell the story and you can judge for yourself...

I've worked hard all my life for my family. None of it was ever appreciated. When my dad was away at work, I took care of my mom. Then, when I was only 18, my mom passed away and I helped my dad pick up the pieces. Finally, years later, my Dad fell for a gold-digging stripper half his age and decided to remarry. I was STILL supportive! However, I don't think it's an unreasonable surprise that it left me a little screwed up. Sure, I had trouble holding down a job, but it's not like my family was hurting for money. Dad was rich. And Laurie, my bubbly new step monster, wasn't exactly bringing in the dough. In fact, I'm pretty sure her "bakery" cost Dad money over time.

I'd had it tough since Mom died seven years ago, and I really just wanted to rest. The only thing good I had going in my life was my girlfriend. Now let me tell you, I've been with a lot of girls. At 25, I've got a good bit of experience with the ladies. But I was not at all prepared for Rhonda. The girl is a freak. And yeah, I mean she's a freak in bed... but it's so much more than that.

Like the other day, Rhonda just walked into my bedroom wearing nothing but a pair of flip-flops and her shell necklace that dangled down between her perfect tits. "My hole's empty. You should fix that, stud," she said simply and bent over. When I went to fuck her, she smacked my hand away as I tried to guide it into her cunt and she pulled it to her ass. What a girl! I grabbed her curly brown hair and pounded away at her perfect little bubble butt, marveling again at the lithe limber body and tiny little waist that made for a perfect handle. A perfect handle that I was now using to ram my cock harder and harder into her gaping ass.

But while I was fucking her, she wasn't moaning or screaming or begging. No. Not my girl. My girl was chanting her favorite fertility spell, "Da mihi filiam deorum. Da mihi filiam deorum!" I was fucking her in the ass and she was chanting a fertility chant. That's weird, right? Whatever. I started really hammering her and we came together right at the crescendo of her chant. Worked for me, I guess.

Anyways, some people would say I was living the dream. Even if my Dad gave me shit about not working, I had this smokin' hot freak of a girlfriend. My step mom was kind of a bitch but at least she was nice eye candy around the house. Yeah, I guess things were pretty good. But then dad passed away. It came out of nowhere. He was literally hit by a bus. I know. Cliche, right? He was crossing the street downtown, the crosswalk flashing light failed to clue him in that he shouldn't do that. Bam. Hit by a bus in broad daylight.

So there we were, sitting at Dad's lawyer's office, waiting for the will to be read. Laurie, my stepmom, understood just enough about the world to know you should wear black when you're in mourning. What she apparently failed to realize is that a leather micro-mini skirt and halter top so short you could see underboob wasn't appropriate mourning clothing. Whatever. The bitch wouldn't get much out of this anyways. I knew Dad wasn't going to leave a big chunk of change to her. He knew she was just there for the money.

The lawyer cleared his throat, "Thomas and Laurie, I'm sorry to see you under such circumstances. I know this must be hard for you."

Laurie wiped her fake tears from her face, "You have no idea. My whole world has crumbled," she said. Bitch.

I added, "Dad took care of a lot of things. A lot more than I realized. We're going to miss him."

"Well, your father did take care of lots of things but one thing he failed to take care of, despite my warnings mind you, was a will. He didn't leave one."

"What?!" both Laurie and I said with almost equal levels of surprise.

"What does this mean?" she said.

"What about us?" I said at the same time.

"Well, in cases like this, there's a process called probate. The courts will decide where the money should go."

"What's typical?" I asked.

"It ranges. Did either of you ever hear him talk about where the money would go? Sometimes eye witness accounts can help the judge make a determination about disposition."

"Well he always talked about wanting to travel with me. Take me places and live a calm comfortable life on a beach with me somewhere... Oh... and my bakery. He loved my bakery and wanted to make sure it stayed open!"

I looked at her. What a conniving whore. She was sitting there faking emotional distress with her big ol' stripper titties practically falling out of her shirt. I realized I had to stand up for myself if I didn't want her to take the whole thing and spend it on beach houses in Cancun with crappy pastries strewn everywhere, "I never heard him talk about all that. The thing he used to say to me is, 'Thomas. You need to find something you're passionate about and go for it. I'll help you make it happen but find something you love, son.' I got that speech once a week for the last decade."

That may not totally be true but it's pretty accurate. Laurie squinted hard at me. I knew what she was thinking. Before she could come up with some not so clever way to undermine me, the lawyer piped up, "Those are both great. I suggest each of you get in touch with your own lawyer. It would be a conflict for me to represent you. We'll hash this out in probate but it might take a long time."

"How long?" I asked.

"Sometimes years," he said with a smile. Fuck him. Lawyers are fucking sharks. And he knows that he gets his fee a little longer the longer he can drag this shit out.

Laurie and I looked at each other. Maybe we could both live with half? We left together, both annoyed with my father about his lack of foresight. What kind of rich old man doesn't leave a will. Dude was nearly 50. He should have been planning better. Whatever.

I got home and, thankfully, Rhonda was there. She'd sort of taken over my Dad's office as her yoga room. Dad had always been super protective of his little mancave. I think I'd only been in the room a handful of times before he died. After he died, Rhonda pointed out it had the biggest amount of floor space and it's not like Dad needed it anymore. When I walked in, she was doing some sort of dance as she lit incense. She spun around the room, lighting each candle. As far as I was concerned, the dance itself was irrelevant. But her nudity while doing it was ideal. I snuck up behind her and nuzzled her neck gently, "What's up baby?" I asked while squeezing her perky little tits. They may not have been the bountiful boobs of the bitchy blonde I just spent trapped in a car for 30 minutes with, but they fit perfectly in my hand and had nice little nipples for pinching and twisting.

Rhonda laughed and kissed me back before hopping away playfully. "I'm just getting ready to do a good fortune spell."

"Does it require the semen of a virile young man?" I asked jokingly.

Her answer was completely deadpan and serious, "No, this one doesn't. There are some that do but they tend not to be as potent, ironically. Bull semen produces the best luck," she said and held up a small vial filled with white fluid. When you date a freaky girl, you've got to put up with the bad if you want the good. "By the way, what's in your dad's safe?"

"What safe?" I asked, surprised. As far as I knew, dad didn't have a safe.

"Yeah... I found it over here behind this picture frame. You have to punch a code into the pad on the desk first. It's... uhm... 0229," she said, pausing tactfully. My mother had been born on February, 29th. It was her favorite joke to make. She didn't care how inappropriate it was. She cheerfully told the entire surprise party at her 32nd birthday that her husband was sleeping with an 8 year old. You could have heard a pin drop in the silence. The spluttering way my Dad explained her bad joke and the awkward laughter afterwards were of great amusement for years to my Mom. Rhonda punched in the code and my father's favorite painting, a Jackson Pollack he'd purchased for my Mom's 36th birthday (when she publicly chastised him at a restaurant for sleeping with a 9 year old... God I missed Mom) slid aside.

Behind the painting was a large safe, maybe two feet in diameter. It also had a number pad on it. I looked at Rhonda and she shrugged, "It's not 0229. Or anything else I could think of," she said. I tried a couple of things. My birthday, his birthday, Mom's full birthday (just in case Rhonda didn't think of that). I even tried Laurie's birthday. Nothing."

Eventually, I got distracted and decided to do something useful. In this case, fucking my hot, naked girlfriend right on Dad's desk. I lasted a lot longer than normal that time. Not because of any godlike stamina on my part, but because I was mesmerized with the safe. I kept looking up while I was plowing Rhonda's tight pussy. She had her legs spread wide as I pummeled her but I kept looking up at the safe, wondering what was in there.

After that, I became obsessed with the safe. Every day I would try out a new set of numbers. I looked online, this model could support up to 10 digit numbers. That was a lot. It also had a timeout lock after ten wrong numbers. You'd have to wait six hours before trying again. I thought about hiring a safe cracker but I really didn't want Laurie to find out about it. I was sure that there was a will in there that would leave everything to me. Or most everything. But what if it was a will he'd rewritten once she'd gotten him pussy whipped? I might not like what was in the will. I shouldn't let her know until I see what's in it, right?

So I kept plugging along on the safe. Rhonda would do her yoga while I contemplated new number sequences. Dad really liked his number puzzles and I came up with more and more convoluted number sequences. Prime numbers, squares and factorials. None of those worked. It was probably two weeks later when I was once again plowing Rhonda on Dad's desk. This time, I had her bent over and was fucking her from behind, slamming into her harder and harder as I spanked her hot little ass.

"Oh fuck... I love that fucking cock, you stud," she said. It was nice to hear her talking about me during sex for once. Normally she was trying to cast one of her spells or some other bullshit. Of course, just as I thought that, she started chanting in Latin. "Qui habet equus patientiam. Qui habet equus patientiam!" she shouted louder and louder, finally orgasming around my cock as she repeated the gibberish phrase. It was another one of those days where I was distracted by the painting and the safe behind it. I think Rhonda figured out sex in this room was better and longer because we never really fucked anywhere else anymore.

Rhonda started chanting again as I felt my orgasm finally build. I'd been fucking the little slut for almost 45 minutes at that point. I wanted to just cum. "Da ei sapientia deorum. Da ei sapientia deorum. Da ei sapientia deorum!"

Finally, I came with a roar, unloading into her and pulling out. She was left panting on the desk, arms wide. "You liked that one, baby?"

"That was great," I told her as I stood up. Something about the painting tickled something in my brain. I looked at the paint smears that seemed so random and chaotic and felt something in my brain click.

I dimly heard Rhonda say, "I know you like the spells that use your semen best. So I threw that extra one in there at the end."

"Yeah... yeah... it was great... hey... who's birthdays have we tried?"

"Uhmm... I don't know... you keep that list in google docs. What like, yours, your dad's, your mom's, your grandparents, Laurie, your ex girlfriend... not mine of course," she said a little cattily.

I ignored her barb, "But we haven't tried Jackson Pollack's have we?" Something about that felt right.

"Uhmm... no. I don't think so," she said, confused.

I spun the laptop on the desk around and did a google search. Jackson Pollack born January 28th, 1912. I walked up to the pad and punched in the code that slid the painting to the side. Then, with trembling hands, I keyed, "1281912". The stupid red light beeped and it didn't open. "Damnit," I yelled and punched the wall. Ouch. That was dumb.

"It's okay baby. It was a good thought. You've got nine more today though," Rhonda said reassuringly. That's true, I had some other options.

"01281912" - "Error"

"19122801" - "Error"

"21918210" - "Error"

"28011912" - "Error"

It still didn't feel right. I looked back at the computer screen. Jackson Pollack, born January 28th, 1912. Died August 11, 1956.

Hrmm...

"8111956" - "Error"

"08111956" - "Error"

"65911180" - "Beep"

The light blinked green. Rhonda gasped, "You did it, baby. Oh wow. My spell worked. It actually worked?" she jumped up and down, her tits bouncing pleasantly.

"What are you talking about?" I asked as I twisted the handle and pulled the heavy door open.

"That second spell. It was for you to have the wisdom of the gods and you figured it out!" she said.

"Whatever. Maybe," I shrugged, not really believing it. The door opened and I was greeted to a welcome sight. Dad's will. It had to be. There was a document with a paperweight on top of it in the safe. I slid the three pages out and started looking through them. Rhonda, of course, was more interested in the paperweight.

I started leafing through the document and my heart fell. He'd left Laurie 90% of the estate along with the house. He'd left me... oh fuck you Dad! He'd left me "Endless Opportunities"... oh... and 10% of the estate and the fucking paperweight.

Fuck... fuckfuckfuck!

10% was barely a pittance. I really didn't know how much Dad had been worth but I knew he was a big shot and worth a shit ton of money. I'll be damned if I was going to let that gold-digging bitch get 90%? Fuck that!

I turned back towards Rhonda and she was holding the small metallic paper weight in her hand with reverence normally reserved for the holy grail. "Do you know what this is?" she asked in a whisper.

I looked at it, it looked like a pewter inkwell that Shakespeare would have used to dip his feather in. "Some kind of antique inkwell?" I said, not caring.

"With an arabic inscription?" she asked. In addition to Rhonda's many occult studies, she also loved languages. I think she spoke almost 20. She said it helped with her spell casting. I think she was just bored and had a talent.

"Okay... an expensive antique inkwell? Is it worth millions of dollars? If not, I don't care."

"It's worth more than that," she said. Her voice was sharp like she'd been personally insulted. Apparently I was supposed to know the value of random antiques now?

"What?" I asked.

"This... this is worth so much more Thomas. This," she said and leaned in close to me, "Is a relic forged by the Ifrits and enchanted by Succubi."

"Forged by who and enchanted by what?" I asked, confused.

"There's only one thing it could be. A djin lamp." I looked at her with confusion, "You know, a genie! Like in Arabian Nights. Aladdin? I dream of Jeannie? A fucking genie!"

"That's ridiculous. It's not a lamp."

"It doesn't have to be an actual lamp, dummy. But this one's empty, I rubbed it and nothing came out."

"So it's a useless empty magic lamp?" I asked. I didn't believe the whole magic shit but if she said it was empty then what did it matter? Right?

"Fuck off... with a lamp like this... you can MAKE a genie," she said with a gleam in her eye. She pivoted and walked out of the room, my cum still dripping down her legs. Fuck she was hot.

After watching her leave, I sat down at the desk and reread the will. As I read it, it became obvious that either Rhonda and Dad were both crazy or they were on to something. Reading through the legal document, it was pretty clear that Dad was being apologetic to Laurie in giving her 90%. The message was very clear. The strange silvery inkwell was the real treasure. At least that's how Dad saw it.

About twenty minutes later, Rhonda came back in. "Hey, Rhonda, I'm sorry..."

"No... shut up... I figured it out. This lamp has had its genie released already."

"What? Who would do that?"

Rhonda shrugged, "Maybe your dad did?"

"Wasting a wish on your genie's freedom seems kinda dumb," I said as she handed the silvery cylinder back to me. I traced the writing with my fingers and noted, for the first time, how high quality the craftsmanship was.

"That's normal genies. This is the container for a sex genie," she said it so matter of factly it barely registered.

"Wait... what?"

Rhonda looked at me like an annoyed teacher trying to teach a retarded student, "Greater djins have the whole brass lamp like Aladdin and three wishes. This is a sex genie container. Unlimited sexy wishes," she said with a flirty smile.

"Fuckin' a. This thing had a sex genie? Seriously? Dad was a player!" I said with newfound admiration for the old man. That earned me a swat on the shoulder.

"Yeah well... it's empty now. So we'd have to find someone to put into it."

"Hold on? You can enslave people to it?"

"Slavery makes it sound so bad, baby. I bet it's got it's perks," her eyes twinkled as she said that. I could tell she was imagining crazy kinky sex, "But yeah, how do you think genies are formed? They're the souls of mortals trapped by a sorcerer."

I looked at her, "Or sorceress? Right? Do you know how to do the spell? Do your ancient tomes or whatever tell you?"

"I mean... maybe? I don't know. There's not like an instruction manual with these things. The books are more like encyclopedia of ingredients and the user has to put them together right."

"But you could do it?"

"Yeah... but are you really willing to enslave some..." her voice trailed off as she realized what I was thinking. "Oh shit. Thomas. Laurie?...That's so... naughty... and kinda hot, baby." She looked at me and then down at my hardening cock. Apparently my cock also thought the idea of turning my bitch of a stepmother into a wicked step-genie was a pretty good one.

"Hey... Don't look at me like that, baby. You've got some studying to do. You've got a spell to learn."

"MMMmmm... yeah."

--

It took her nearly two weeks and multiple trips to her little wiccan coven or whatever to get other books. During that time, we had the best, most wild sex imaginable. She'd be riding me, asking me what I was going to do to my step mom.

"Tell me, lover. What are you going to do? You can make her do anything you want if it has to do with sex," she said.

I thrust my cock up into her hot body, filling her up, "I'm gonna make her my little sex toy."

"The magic already does that. Think bigger, stud. Her body is your plaything."

"I'm gonna make her give me a big cock. No... a cock that's perfect for any girl I'm with."

"Ohh... are you going to fuck other girls, baby," Rhonda asked. She was pretty much a free love kinda girl so I knew she wasn't going to mind. At least as long as she was in on it.

"Maybe, but you know you're my baby and my perfect cock will need lots of pussy so I'll be fucking you until you're sore all the time."