The more I thought about it, the more sex and curry had in common. Both could spice up your life, both could be hot and both were not to everyone's taste. Me? I loved them both. My Mum had introduced me to it, curry that is, I'd managed sex myself at a young age. Quite where she had got the taste I never found out, rumours of an Indian lover many years ago abounded through the family, but Mum's lips were steadfastly shut about it. All she would say was that Indian culture had a lot going for it.
So now I was well established on my own, a job, a nice flat, good friends, and I was free to indulge both as the whim took me. The only problem was that curry was a lot easier to come by than sex, of course I could have had lots of sex, I was not unattractive, but just as I was picky about my curry, so I was picky about my men. There was nothing like a good cock in my pussy, filling me up with hot sticky cum, nor was I a stranger to masturbation, after all with a libido like mine and being picky, my fingers had to be well practiced. I had a variety of toys, but fingers were my preferred method of relief, so much more intimate and infinitely adaptable.
Just like my curries. I eschewed ready mixed sauces and spices, preferring to make my own from scratch. Of course there had been some failures, I didn't like them too hot, nor too sloppy, but over the years I had got it just about right. I wasn't an expert on the spices by any means, but I knew my way around. I left the expertise to Rishi, which was where I was heading now, this Friday lunchtime.
Rishi was a middle aged Indian who owned what for me was a part of heaven, a spice shop. It was full, of jars, bags, packets, all arranged haphazardly on shelves in a small shop and smelled divine. He knew everything there was to know, which ones complemented others, and he could put his hands on anything you wanted. The shop always seemed to be open, and always empty so I don't know if he ever made any money, but he always had an amazing welcome for me.
"Ah Miss Emma, how lovely to see you again," he greeted me. No matter how much I tried to get him to drop the 'Miss' he always used it in his unfailingly polite manner. "What can I get you today? Something special for that young man of yours?" Sometimes I wished I'd never told him about Steve, he was worse that my mother.
Steve was an old and very dear friend, same age as me, unattached, which was a rarity at our age, and was responsible for most of the cum that ended up in my pussy. We got together at least once a week, not always for sex, everyone commented how right we were for each other and amazed that we weren't married with a couple of kids by now, but we weren't like that.
I supposed we loved each other in our own way, we were very comfortable in each other's company and the sex was usually mind-blowing. Perhaps not living together was what kept it special, the anticipation of whether we'd end up in bed fucking each other's brains out, or just sharing a glass of wine or even tea, kept our relationship fresh. My Mum of course cooed and fawned over him, and Rishi was nearly as bad, always enquiring after him and trying to get me to open up about him.
"No Rishi, I'm actually making a curry for my sister, she's coming round tomorrow night, we're going to eat then sit and watch a chick-flick together."
"Shame," he said, "I've just had a special delivery that your young man would have liked. It's ready mixed and really easy to use."
"Rishi, you know I like to mix my own."
"Yes but this really is special." I started to browse around and Rishi guided me through some interesting looking spices, then I made my choice and he wrapped them up for me. "Look, just take this," he added a wrapped bag to my order, "for the next time he comes round. I promise you it will be special."
"OK, Rishi, I trust you." With that I paid and after a few minutes chatting about his extended family I left, the aroma of the spices wafting out of my bag for the rest of the day. People at work knew of my love for curry and several came by to inhale the aroma, one or two of the more persistent men good humouredly trying to wangle invitations to sample my goodies.
Finally I was home and I set my purchases down on the kitchen island. I decided to get the curry going then shower and change. I was intending on making a large pot to last me several days and set about chopping the chicken into bite sized cubes, adding some onion and a bay leaf, putting it all in a pan with some coconut milk and then dug out the spices I had purchased. As I opened my shopping bag the extra package that Rishi had given me fell out. I went to set it aside but the curiosity overcame me and I opened it and put it to my nose.
Instantly I was overwhelmed by the most amazing aromas, I couldn't pick them all out but all my favourites seemed to be in there. Why not I thought, and emptied it all into the pan, giving it a good stir. Then I set it on the simmer and went upstairs to shower and change.
Off came my top and bra, my breasts falling free and automatically my hands went to them to massage some life back into them. They were nice sized, enough for a man to grab hold of but not obscenely so, and more to the point they sat nicely on my chest, my pale pink soft nipples still pointing slightly north.
I ran my fingers over them and felt a little twinge in my pussy, not now I thought, you've got too much to do. Off came my skirt and panties and I stood and looked at myself in the full length mirror in my bedroom. Tits fine, legs still shapely, waist trim, I twisted my body round and examined my bum, still OK, then looked at the furry triangle between my legs.
I kept it nicely trimmed, and as I ran my fingers through it I wondered for about the hundredth time whether I should shave or get it waxed. Steve said he didn't mind it, whether he was just saying that or whether it was true, it still gave me pause for thought. I mean he hadn't said he liked it had he? I found myself idly toying with my pussy and clit as I pondered wondering what it would look like, then came back to the present and shelved the decision for the hundred-and-first time.
I got in the shower and washed away the work grime, relishing the water cascading down my body as I caressed the shower gel all over me, breasts, bum and pussy getting a special clean, then I got out and dried myself. I popped back down with just the towel round me to give the curry a stir, already the house was filled with the aromas and I sampled the sauce. Perfect, this was going to be a good one, perhaps Rishi was right.
I went back upstairs and pulled on a pair of panties, then picked up a bra, but looked at it with a grimace. It was bad enough having to wear one to work, my sister wouldn't care so to hell with it. I slipped a short chemise over my head then put a flowing, loose skirt on and completed my ensemble with a buttoned blouse that I left untucked. Just right, comfortable, casual with just enough style to show I had dressed up for her visit.
We were very close my sister Sarah and I, only eighteen months apart, we'd grown up doing everything together, she had a partner, a really lovely guy called Adam who doted on her and I sometimes wondered if Steve and I would ever be like that. It wouldn't be so bad I mused. I knew they had a healthy sex life, because Sarah told me, not all the details, but enough to know that both of them were pretty adventurous.
