An almost harmless curse

An almost harmless curse

“She is that famous singer,” I realized, as I wondered from where I knew her. She sat on the stool next to mine. She had the attitude of a celebrity: arrogant, wearing a torn black t-shirt that showed her belly button and walking around like she owned the place. I must have been staring--I have to say that she was very attractive, even with her I-don't-care looks.

“Checking out for jacking off later?” she asked. I was pissed off by that question. Such a bitch.

“No. I just think I know you from somewhere.” Like the TV, the magazines and the radios. “Perhaps I'm mistaken.” That might piss her off.

“Yes, I'm her, satisfied?”

I pretended to be dumbfounded, then suddenly to remember.

“You're that singer!”

“Yes, and you are that moron.” So sweet.

“You sing well. I suppose you could use a few lessons, but you have a nice voice. Your music is not that great, though. You should find a good composer, maybe record some classics.”

“Fuck off,” she said. She grabbed her beer and drank from the bottle, looking straight ahead. “Are you still staring, pervert? Go jack off.”

“Oh, I'm leaving,” I said. “But you know what?” I asked, getting really close to her ear. “I think the next time you have sex you'll think of me. Tonight, if you get lucky. You'll think of me. And the next. And everytime you finger yourself, from now on. You'll touch your pussy and think of me, wondering if I am jacking off for you. Wondering if you could get me into bed, with all your fame and money, and if you could make me feel that great. Every time. Wondering if perhaps I wasn't the one you were looking for all your life. And, each time you think of me like that, you will come like never before.”

I licked her ear and left her, never looking back. Lynn was coming in my direction and I kissed her, blatantly.

“Isn't her that singer?” Lynn asked me.

Without looking back, I said, “yes, why?”

“She seems to be staring at us.”

“Nonsense. Shall we go? I want to make love to you. Right now,” I said, holding Lynn around her waist.

So, yes, I may think of her when Lynn and I make love to each other in a few minutes, but somehow I am really sure that she will also remember me next time she fucks some John Doe.