HOT LIKE A CURRY [m/f] | 2016

I once met a girl in a bar. Let’s call her Jenn. She was hot as hell. Great face and full lips. She had short hair. Big eyes. Very sensual. She was working in the bar while studying at a nearby university. Her parents had money and she’d been schooled in Hong Kong.

In other words, she was out of my league.

Anyway, I used to play football and after the weekly matches we headed to the bar. There were lots of nice girls working or otherwise in the bar. One quiet night I got chatting to Jenn. Easy conversation, nothing in-depth. We connected but being still in the she’s-too-good-for-me frame of mind I didn’t push it. A couple of days later we randomly met in the supermarket, got chatting and went for a drink there and then. Later that night I went back to her place. She made a move and we had sex. We continued to meet and have sex – sometimes super hot sex - on and off for a couple of months, but we drifted apart somewhat due to my own reluctance to get serious with her. We didn't really have the same social circles.

A few months passed and no contact. This was the time of clubbing and taking drugs like cocaine and ecstasy. I went out one Saturday night, got hammered, and was heading home alone early the next morning. For those who take or have taken such drugs you will realize that you get an incredible ‘horn’ on following a night out like this. Well, I was so fucking horny it was driving me insane.

So I called Jenn, figuring she’d tell me to fuck off. I was so turned on that I didn’t care; I had to satisfy my desires. I’d screwed other girls but none like Jenn and I just wanted to be inside her.

She was a bit distant, unhappy when she picked up the phone. I asked to see her. She said okay but no sex and I had to leave as she was making Sunday lunch for some friends. The way she said ‘friends’ made me realize that one of the party would be her new boyfriend. I’m not a malicious guy but with the drugs and drink flowing through my veins a big part of me wanted to punish her; fuck her senseless so that when she was having her stupid little lunch party her pussy would be sore and all she would be thinking about was me. I wanted her to be chatting with her ‘friends’ while my hot cum was softly dripping from her cunt onto her panties.

I rang the doorbell. Nothing. Again with the doorbell. Silence. I rattled the wood with my knuckles. All quiet. I said to myself: ‘You fucking bitch! You are fucking taking the piss … you sluuu –‘ and just as I was about to finish the thought I could hear her unlocking the security chain on the other side of the door.

And suddenly there she stood.

She had been wearing mascara the night before and it was slightly smudged, on account of her crying. She pointed to her face and said: ‘Look what you are doing to me.’ I made to hug her but she pulled away and went inside.

I followed, uninvited. I watched her walk the length of her hallway. She had on faded and ripped denims, not too tight but tight enough to show off her incredible ass … an ass that she liked to have smacked gently as she knelt over the bed while fingering her clit. I remembered her ass used have lots of reddish hand imprints after a session.

She had on a white, light cotton, almost see-through shirt that gave a glimpse of a nice black bra. That was my Jenn; she loved lingerie. She used to wonder about how something that was so elegant, refined and expensive as lingerie made her feel like a slutty little ‘fuck bag’ (her words not mine).

She was barefoot. Her brown little feet and white soles walking along across the wooden floor with a mix of contempt (for me) and sadness (because of me).

There was one other thing I remember: the smell of curry. That exotic smell wafting through every room in the apartment.

[more to follow]