"Porridge for breakfast? Grilled bacon?" Sounds good," I said, out of a suddenly dry mouth.We finished our drinks, and Grace got out of bed; she moved...around the small cabin and I thought how her name suited her, so I said so.She smiled, a little sadly, "I was going to be a dancer," she said, "until I was eleven and decided I'd rather be a nurse. I had eight years of ballet, and only gave up to concentrate on exams."I watched her collect her clothes and dress. I think she was ... displaying. Tushar was no less than a professional chef in Bengali food.I allowed him a normal dinner by being on the opposite side of the table. He prepared the masala fried pomfret fish curry with the traditional rice. We ate on it with all of our amusement. 'Delicious' word could have not been enough to explain Tushar's recipe. I finished my dinner. Tushar was about to get his rice done before the devil at my shoulder kicked in.I held his plate and poured the handful of remaining rice on the table.. I looked over at him and wished I hadn't given him my virginity, I've never felt more regret than that single moment. I was getting cold, my nipples were on end and the breeze was brushing past my pussy lips which were beginning to pulsate - what a strange new feeling. I stubbed out the cigarette on his window seal, flicked it across his garden and climbed back into the house. I ran my hand through my long blonde silky curls and decided to shower, grabbing a soft white towel from the radiator I. Just then Mr. Rollins yelled “Oh yeah, you sweet fuck. Here it is ... baby batter for my lover!“He slammed all the way in one last time and his butt wiggled and clenched as Ms. Simpson hollered that she could feel him squirting in her. He stayed stock still until all his cum had emptied into her and then he stood up. As his semi-hard cock plopped free, there was a long string of white stuff that stretched from the tip of his cock to her open pussy. That pussy was awash with thick white cream.