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From: Marie Durois <mdurois@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Smell of Sex {MF rom oral)
Date: Wed, 24 May 2000 05:10:01 -0400
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The Smell of Sex (MF rom oral)
by Marie Durois

May, 2000 

 [AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my story, and I would 
appreciate it if my name and my email address were
always associated with it.  Obviously it has sexual
content.  Any person who has problems with that should
not read further.] 

The smell of sex. The smell of you and I, our juices,
struck my nostrils as I pulled down your pants to
continue my pleasuring of you. It was a sweet smell,
warm and damp, reminding me of the pleasures of a few
hours ago. I smiled and inhaled that fragrance, now so
dear to me.

I remember when I was in college and worked part-time
as a directory-assistance operator for the local
telephone company. This was in the days when those
operators used real, paper telephone directories to do
their jobs. They had alphabetical and spelling skills
beyond compare. I enjoyed the challenge of finding
unusually-spelled names, even though the conditions
were difficult, chained to a chair with limited
breaks. 

It was an excellent part-time job. A number of other
college students worked there as did I. In the
summertime if we only worked part-time we had to work
split shifts, like 10 a.m. -2 p.m. and 6 p.m. -10 p.m.
It made for a chopped-up kind of day. 

I had a friend named Lyn. She was a slim, blue-eyed
blonde with quicksilver looks and a focused mind. We
shared the stories of our lives and of our men via
writing notes and passing them surreptitiously to each
other in between calls, being careful not to get
caught. We shared the goings on of our dating
relationships, their rise and fall, and of course,
discussed the quality of the sex that came with them. 

Lyn finally found someone she really loved and would
ultimately marry. On the afternoon break in between
the split shift, she would go home to her boyfriend
and they would make love. I smile remembering when she
came back in the evening. Her eyes had that
slightly-crazed expression and her smile was
unnaturally bright. She was glowing. She held up her
hands to her face, took a deep breath and said, "I
LOVE the smell of sex!!!"

At the time I was somewhat shocked at her frankness,
although I remember smiling at the time. I, too, loved
getting fucked as much as she did. 

Today I love the smell of sex as much I always have. 
I love the smell of it over time, as I come to know
and care for the man. I love it as a familiar smell, a
smell that I remember from previous times, a smell
that is a recurring signal of pleasure from the recent
past and for the future. It is like the smell of some
wonderful food cooking. I salivate for it, wanting it,
knowing I will enjoy it this time as before.

The smell of sex reminds me that we have done it
together. You have eaten me and made me come. You have
buried your cock in me and ridden me until you
achieved your own climax. It reminds me that perhaps,
if there is time, we can do it again.

I lie snoozy on your lap at midnight, sated after an
afternoon and evening of sensual pleasures of various
types. Then I roll over to the other side and begin to
touch your leg...

I had come early to your house to listen to you play
jazz with friends. It was delightful. Within minutes
of the musicians leaving your mouth was on mine,
devouring me, your hand pulling my full breast out of
my bra under the tank top. You moved your mouth down
and began to devour my neck, then lower to my breast,
sucking hard, biting gently and kneading first one and
then the other. 

We adjourned to the bedroom and undressed. I lay on
the bed and waited for you to join me. I enjoyed
watching you undress, the sight of your well-shaped
body, a perfect combination of slim and muscular. 

You joined me on the bed and I reached out to touch
you. You have always loved my touch. I seek out every
corner and tiny spot on your body to bring it pleasure
through touch. You gasped and cried out as I created
new ways of touching you. I fondled your balls and
stroked the tiny areas with no hair, those areas that
are so sensitive. I found the hairless areas between
your legs where the nerves are especially tender. I
played with your anus, tugging it open with both
hands, stroking it with moistened fingers and touching
it in an infinite number of ways, leaving you moaning
with pleasure. Finally I entered it with my finger,
stroking your prostate deep within you, milking it,
pushing on it, owning you with my hand as you own me
with your mouth, hands and cock.

You lay there for a long time while I pleasured you. I
did not notice the time. The evening was ours for
pleasure. 

After a long time, you had had enough and changed
positions to return the favor. You straddled me,
pinning me down, while your mouth devoured me. I lay
there a long time simply enjoying the slow crescendo
of feelings that were rising within me. I squirmed
under you, legs spread wide, wanted to feel each
exquisite lick again and again. You licked me and
sucked me for a long time until I finally came, crying
out, "Stop! Stop!"

Then you met me face to face, kissing me with your
mouth that tasted of me. You slid your cock inside me,
to claim your pleasure. I lifted my hips with each
stroke, wanting you, wanting you deeply inside me. You
slid your cock into me using different angles, to
bring us both different feelings. You were hot, as was
I. The air conditioner was running but it could not
keep us cool enough, bathed in sweat and sexual
fluids. I grasped your wet and slippery body with my
arms, thrusting upward with my hips to meet your
thrusts until you came. Then I held you as your sweat
slid onto my body, listening to the pounding of your
heart.

After such a workout, we were both hungry. We dressed.
I tried to tame my hair into some semblance of what it
had looked like when I had arrived several hours
previously. I peered into the mirror and re-applied
part of the face that had been sweated off. We were
both hungry now and went out to eat at a local Chinese
restaurant.

Returning home, you played the piano and I sang as we
worked our way through a book of Richard Rodgers
songs. 

After a time my butt got tired of the piano bench.
We'd sung all the songs and retreated to the sofa for
some cuddling.

I was so relaxed that I almost snoozed, my head on
your lap.

After a time I rolled over and touched your leg. I
began stroking it. You were wearing shorts. I enjoyed
feeling the shape of your leg, stroking the hairs,
reaching up inside your shorts as far as I could
reach, trying to cop a feel.

I began to wake up again, wanting you again, wanting
to pleasure you, wanting you to pleasure me again.

You wanted it too. I helped you pull your shorts and
briefs down and was struck with the smell of sex. Sex
- the sweet, musky smell of your scent and mine,
mingled together on your body. It permeated your cock
and your balls and the insides of your legs, and made
me desire you again.

I began to pleasure you again with my hands and mouth,
touching, caressing, pulling, manipulating your balls
and cock and asshole until you said, "I want to fuck
you."  We returned to the bedroom. I tore my clothes
off. You still wore your shirt and shoes as you slid
inside me. I joked that with tennies on you'd get
better traction. You smiled but didn't stop to undress
fully. This time you held my legs up on your
shoulders, pinning me under you, my pussy spread wide
for you, pounding me until you came again.

Then you moved down to eat me again, to taste my pussy
filled with your cum, the taste of both of us, the
taste of sex, licking my glistening cunt, opening me
up with your hands, penetrating me with several
fingers as I squirmed under you. I lay there in a
dream state as your mouth and tongue did its magic.
This time you filled me with several fingers,
finger-fucking me while your tongue lapped at my clit,
driving me wild until again I came.

You lay beside me and stroked me tenderly for awhile
as I lay there afterwards. My mind was empty of all
thought. After a time we both struggled to dress and I
finally had to leave for home. 

All I can think about now is the smell of sex that
night. That smell still haunts me, the smell of it
wafting from your body when I pulled your shorts down.
The smell of it permeating your cock and balls and the
hairs in your crotch, the sweet dampness of it. That
smell that simultaneously brings back memories and
fills me with anticipation.

I want to pull your pants down and bury my face in
your crotch and inhale that fragrance again. 


THE END

[AUTHOR'S EMAIL ADDRESS: mdurois@yahoo.com 
Comments are invited.]



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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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