I smelled of sex and cigarettes. Her sex, my cigarettes.
They were Virginia slims, each drag a smooth, smoky shuffle into indifference.
The events that transpired mere ten minutes ago still pounded heavily in my head, providing a potent raison d'être for the slims.
The sex was as good as casual sex could be. There was a frantic intimacy to it which I found erotically compelling.
Her kisses were slow, yet her heavy breathing betrayed her exterior calm. I inhaled those hot breaths as I kissed her - it was as though I was breathing her in. Our tongues crept out with immaculate synchronization. She tasted salty, human.
Our clothes came off with surprising ease, considering the urgent rush that coursed through the both of us.
She pushed me onto the couch, and knelt in front of me and took my member between her tender, luscious lips. I had pulled at her hair, her submissiveness fueling my sexually charged ego. Simply with her lips and her tongue, she brought me to the edge of orgasm.
We didn't make love after that - we couldn't. We fucked. I pinned her against walls, pulled on her hair, gave it to her hard and fast. To me, she was this fragile doll so beautiful in all her make-up and sculpted body. And I wanted to defile her as much as I could on this night.
Then, when I came, torrents shooting onto her stomach, the magic disappeared. There was a disagreeable, smothering silence after; you could almost hear the pop of a bubble bursting.
"There's somewhere I have to be," I told her as I got off her and started pulling on my sweater.
"Where?" she inquired, a rude, intrusive step into my personal space.
I looked down on her, lying naked on her bed. "Work," I verbalised.
"It's 2 a.m." Flat.
"You don't know my work."
She threw me a dirty look. It was dirty with contempt. "I don't know you."
"Fuck off," I said just audibly, as I walked off.
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I stepped out into the night, leaving behind the nameless, faceless apartment I was in.
The scent of the city's night greeted me. It was an interesting mix of vehicles and industry and all the traces of four million people packed into limited square kilometres. This aroma piqued, without being pervasive.
A cool breeze rushed by, but I felt its gentle caress as though in slow motion. I took a deep breath, as though I could keep the breeze inside me, and with it I could let go of my inhibitions and float away to my whims and wanders.
But I was still here, and work beckoned.
I extracted a cigarette and lit it.
Then I took several smooth, smoky shuffles into indifference.
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