How to Kill a Memory

Two years ago after part 2 of the happy ending experience I saved Lila’s number just in case I returned to Bali. The sex with her had been a very pleasant experience; even the part where I wasn’t sure if I would have to pay for sex with her and subsequently finding out that I didn’t was an exciting part of the tale.

So now that I’m back in Indonesia I made sure to get in touch with her. We texted for about a week before our respective schedules allowed for another rencontre. I picked her up and brought her back to my place, where we talked about the last time we’d seen each other and what had happened in the meantime.

After drinking a beer and sharing a few laughs we made our way to my room. We rolled around on the bed making out and feeling each other up until I got a hard on. She savagely ripped my clothes off and took my balls in her hand. I was ready for what was about to come.

That was my assumption, at least.

“How much?” she asked. If you remember from part 1 of the happy ending story, she had asked me this very question once before and it had caught me off guard. This, then, marked the second time the same person had managed to catch me on the wrong foot with the same fucking question.

“What do you mean?” I asked, perplexed.

“How much for boom boom?”

“Ummm…. Last time we did ‘boom boom’ this wasn’t a question.”

“I no have job,” she said by way of explanation. Seeing the confused look on my face, she further explained that she had stopped working at the spa six months ago and was now working freelance.

Freelance. Great.

So where last time we had met just for fun, this time she expected me to pay. Where the last time I had been a man who resembled her dead husband and made her laugh, now I was nothing more than a potential customer.

“How much you pay?” she pressed, and I sardonically laughed at myself. Once again she had my balls in her hands and wanted me to name a price. I saw the pleasant memory of what had happened two years ago crumbling away.

“800,000 Rupiah.” Hearing her name a price completely shattered the memory.

Fuck it, I thought, if she wants it this way, then so be it; I’d negotiate. Plus I was horny, and I figured if the memory had been soured I might as well get something out of it.

“I’ll give you 600,000 (50€).”

“OK,” she said, and swallowed my semi-hard dick. Once she got me hard, she slipped on a condom. She laid on her back, grabbed my cock and guided it inside of her.

And then she was hardly responsive at all, simply going through the motions. I slid my cock in and out trying to get her to respond as she did last time, to no avail. I kissed her once but quickly realized I no longer had any inclination to do so.

“The sex isn’t even as good as last time, and this time I’m paying for it!” I thought to myself, exasperated as she refused to change positions or even really get into the one we were in. And then, after ten minutes, she rushed me.

“You cum now?” she asked, the tacit understanding being that my time was up. And I wasn’t actually anywhere near ready. But I thrust in hard, deep and fast, trying to finish. Try as I might, I just couldn’t get there any faster. That being the case, she decided to use her hand to finish me. Which was also lame and unlike last time, when we both came together.

I had planned on taking her out to eat afterward, but now I just wanted her to disappear. She declined my offer to use my shower and instead put her clothes back on, telling me she preferred to shower at home. Also a change from last time. Once she was dressed she smoked a cigarette with me, sipping at her half-finished beer. The cigarette finished and the beer left half empty, she kissed me once on the lips, once on each cheek and then again on the lips, telling me that I should call her on the weekend.

As if.

With that, she took her leave, and I mentally said my final goodbye to what had been a pleasant memory. And hello to the “I’ve paid for sex” club.

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