AROMATHERAPY
Copyright © 2004 by Lionspen

 (MF oral)

This story contains sexually explicit scenes.

(A married woman has her fear of dirt and odours cured by the amorous attentions of her gardener.)

 ‘That is so disgusting!’ Sophie muttered to herself, shuddering with revulsion as she watched the man plunging his spade deep into the earth. 

His bare back flowed with sweat that ran in rivulets from his broad shoulders down to the crack in his arse, making large trenches of glistening slime between the dirt-caked skin. As if sensing she was watching him, he turned and grinned. His teeth were surprisingly white and strong, but his stare was that of a wild animal waiting to pounce. Sophie quickly turned away, wrapping her arms across her breasts which suddenly felt dreadfully exposed under her thin sundress.

The man was all the things she couldn’t bear: dirty, sweaty and beast-like. She gasped as she imagined him rutting like a pig with a filthy whore in a sordid hotel room somewhere. Disgusted by this image, she had to sit down to regain her composure. Recently she had experienced so many visions of this nature that she was beginning to think she was losing her mind. The last thing she wanted was to watch this beast driving his filthy spade into her back yard. ‘Goodness knows,’ her mind protested, ‘what mental picture I will see if I carry on thinking this way.’ 

Nevertheless, Sophie remained sitting by the window a little longer, watching the man as her memory played out scenes from her past that she never could forget.

It seemed that all her life she had hated dirt, whether it was dust on the furniture, dirty ashtrays or clumps of soil in the garden. When she was very small, Sophie’s brother had chased her with an earthworm. She had become hysterical and her mother had had to slap her face to bring her round. Over the years, other events had occurred which contributed to her fears. Watching her father’s casket being interred in a hole in a damp, grey cemetery had made her seven-year old soul cry out in pain. Then, when she was ten, her brother and his friends had grabbed her and thrown her into the middle of a filthy pond, leaving her to drag herself through layers of sludge and discarded rubbish until she could climb back on to dry land. Since that time she could not bear the thought of touching anything remotely dirty. She wore gloves to do the housework and always waited for others to open doors for her – goodness knows who had touched them last.

Smells were another thing. Any strong smell made her heave as they all conjured-up images of dirt and decay, but the smell of sweat was one of the worst smells of all; it made her think of fetid flesh and unspeakable rituals which distressed her very being. 

That last thought jogged her back to reality. She was doing it again; thinking of horrid things that only dirty people did, not clean and wholesome people like her.

‘Are you all right love?’

Oh no. He was talking to her! What if he came into the house? ‘I.., I’m fine,’ she stuttered. ‘Just leave me alone will you?’

‘Are you sure?’ He was entering the French windows.

‘Yes. Yes! Now please go away. I don’t like being watched while I’m doing the housework.’

‘Well, if you say so … You do look pale though.’

‘GO AWAY!’ Sophie leaped up and ran into the kitchen. She slammed the door behind her and slumped onto a chair, her heart pounding and her teeth chattering. She heard the man mutter and then clump outside again. His heavy boots would have soiled the parquet flooring, but at least he had left her alone. Still trembling, she poured herself a coffee from the percolator and added two sugars to counter her shock. 

xxxxxxx

Two hours had gone by and the sky was getting dark. He would be gone soon. No-one could dig the garden in darkness, surely? Tentatively, Sophie crept into the lounge and peeked out the window. Yes, the garden was empty of life; only the man’s spade and fork remained, discarded on the garden path. She ran and locked the French windows. Why on earth hadn’t she done that in the first place? She was usually so careful when tradesmen were around. ‘Well’, she sighed, ‘let that be a lesson to you Sophie. Don’t you ever tempt fate like that again.’

She grabbed a meal for one from the freezer, popped it into the microwave and sliced up some freshly-washed salad to go with it. Graham would be home very late; he had a board meeting to attend and would dine out afterwards, so she had the evening to herself. What bliss!

The lounge felt cold and exposed, so she wrapped a sweatshirt around her shoulders, pulled the heavy curtains across the French windows and turned up the thermostat. Soon she was enjoying her meal, with her dinner tray perched on her lap and the opening strains of an early-evening ‘soap’ blaring from the TV. Yes, this was the life; peace and quiet and only herself to please. Sometimes the pressure of Graham’s work schedules overlapped into his home life and the lounge was filled with an aura of negativity, but this evening the lounge felt calm and tranquil. She placed the finished meal beside her on the coffee table, sipped her glass of wine, and then relaxed back into the welcoming folds of the couch. 

xxxxxxx

‘Wake up Love! Wake Up!’

Sophie was dragged out of her sleep by a deep, insistent growl. Then she noticed the smell: earthy and pungent, with an overlaying stench of sweat. Her eyes flashed open in fright and her vision was filled by the chest of a huge, dirt-streaked body. He was going to touch her! To assault her! No! No! She battered the chest with her fists, screaming and crying in terror. The beast stepped back.

‘Christ! What’s the matter with you? I was only trying to wake you up.’

Sophie leapt from the couch and huddled in the corner. ‘Go away! please go away! Please don’t hurt me. I won’t tell anyone. I promise. Just go away!’ Her screams were penetrating her throat, and she felt as if her heart would burst from fear.

‘Look Love; calm down. I was only checking to see if you were alright. You were so quiet earlier, and pale. I thought you might have fainted. I didn’t want to leave you like that.’

‘But the garden was empty. I thought you had left.’ Her voice was only a croak.

‘No. I was working in the van, sorting out some bits of trellis to put down tomorrow. I would never go home and leave a lady feeling ill. I had to check on you before I left. Look. Sit down over here. I’m not going to hurt you. Honestly.’

There was little else she could do. He was obviously not going to go until he thought she was alright. At least she hoped he would go then. If he touched her she’d die … She felt the panic rising again.

‘Come on Love. Sit over here. I’ll make you a cup of tea if you like.’

‘I don’t drink tea.’

‘Well, Coffee then.’ He moved towards the kitchen, ‘Now where are the cups?’

‘Don’t touch them. You’ll make them dirty!’

‘Oh. Excuse me! I will wash my hands you know. I’m not some animal.’ And he disappeared through the kitchen door.

Sophie glanced around wildly. If she could just make it to the French windows without him hearing her … damn! They were locked. He must have come in through the kitchen door. In any case, he was bound to hear her turn the key. The lock needed oiling. Too late. He was standing behind her. She gasped and quickly moved away.

‘What’s wrong with you? I’m not some attacker of women for heaven’s sake! I’m someone who makes his living out of digging people’s gardens when they are too lazy to do it themselves. I’m just a man who was worried about a lady. That’s all. But if you’d rather I left right now, that’s what I’ll do. You are obviously scared of me and I certainly don’t need the hassle of being called a rapist!’

He turned and walked towards the door.

Suddenly it seemed very important that she made him stay. ‘Look. Wait! I’m sorry. I have this thing you see – about dirt and smells and … Oh God! Why am I telling you this anyway?’

‘Perhaps because you need to tell someone and I’m a good listener?’ He moved slowly towards her, took her hand and led her to the couch. ‘Now sit down and tell me all about it.’

This was ridiculous. This man was a hired hand. He was smothered in dirt and muck, his body was sweaty and he stank for God’s sake! Her whole being cringed at his touch. So why was she allowing him to do this? What was she doing to herself? But, as if she had lost all power to resist, she allowed him to guide her gently to the couch and even forced herself not to pull away when he sat down near her. Then she spilled out all her fears to the disgusting stranger. How the fear of dirt had controlled her life. How she wanted to break away from this obsession, but found herself quite helpless in its grip. When she had finished she was spent. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her head spun. But strangely it felt as if her body had relaxed from this uncharacteristic outpouring. She looked at the man, waiting for his reply, but he simply sat and stared at her.

‘Well, can you help me? No. Of course you can’t.’ The old bitterness had returned and tainted her words. She had opened her heart to this man and told him things that even her psychiatrist didn’t know, and this dirty, uncouth creature hadn’t even given her the courtesy of a reply.

Nevertheless, after a long pause the creature smiled; a wide, cheerful smile that brightened his face and shone through the dirt-covered cheeks. He slowly moved towards her and the pungent smell of his sweat filled her nostrils, but this time she didn’t gag; some need deep inside her responded and she inhaled deeply and drew the heady aroma all in.

Tenderly he smoothed her tear-stained face with his hands and ran his index finger down her cheek and gently slid it into her mouth. At the same time he pulled her body up towards him, pressing her waist into his ribcage and her small, soft belly against his firm stomach. She could feel his hardness against her sex, throbbing through the coarse fabric of his jeans. What was happening to her? Why was she enjoying this so much? But she couldn’t control her reactions. Her legs went limp and she felt her thighs open, ready to welcome the widening pleasure of his rapidly growing cock. But he resisted her frantic pulling at his zip and pushed her back onto the couch. Then, slowly and expertly, he pushed her sweatshirt off her shoulders and, slipping his fingers under the straps of her sundress, he pulled it down to expose her breasts. She cried out loud as he ran his tongue down her neck and took a nipple in his mouth. He ran his tongue around it, prodding it until it stood erect, then, slowly, he ran his tongue across to the other, this time nipping it gently with his teeth. She felt her pussy burn with pleasure and her clit stiffen in anticipation. A moan fell from her lips.

Then he stood, looking down at her body, and began to pull the sundress down over her thighs. He threw it to the floor, then knelt down, spread her thighs apart and kissed her soaking panties, rubbing her pussy with his nose and sniffing her warm, wet sex.

‘God that smells good.’ He murmured. ‘And I must drink it up before it soaks the couch.’ 

She felt his fingers tug the string on her panties and suddenly they were on the floor, discarded with the sundress. His tongue entered her sex and it seemed so long and wide that it filled her up. He lapped at the sides of her pussy, drinking her juices until he should have drunk her dry, but her excitement was such that pussy juice poured from her, and she felt it would never stop. Then she felt his tongue nudge her throbbing clit and she arched her back, tensing all her muscles, ready and waiting so badly, that she would die if she didn’t come soon.

‘Please,’ she begged, in a voice that sounded strange to her ears, ‘please let me have your cock. I can’t last a moment longer without it’. 

Pulling away, he smiled down at her and stood erect. He unzipped his bursting jeans, slipped them down and stepped out of them almost in one movement. Then he stood proud before her, watching her amazement as she stared, wide-eyed at his throbbing, erect manhood.

‘Oh God, it’s so big. How will I ever take that inside me?’ She asked, open-mouthed in anticipation.

‘Oh I don’t think it will give you any trouble my Love, especially when you’ve made it nice and wet.’

He bent down and pushed the huge cock towards her face. A drop of pre-cum spilled from its glistening head and she reached out, caught it, and lapped it up from her palm. Then, tentatively, she sniffed the huge member. It smelled wonderful! Its aroma was heavy and raw and intoxicating, conjuring up images of wolves charging through a forest, powerful and free. Why on earth had she never felt this way before? This man was an animal, but the emerging animal in her wanted to eat him all up!

Voraciously she opened her mouth wide and swallowed the huge cock until it pushed at the back of her throat. A small part of the old Sophie made her panic and gag, but her mouth slowly relaxed and she wrapped her lips around the huge shaft and slowly pulled them back to its tip. She licked more moisture from the pulsating head and then, opening her mouth even wider, again she swallowed the shaft as far as she could. This time she caressed his balls. They were wonderful and round and she knew they were aching to be kissed, but they would have to wait until she was done with this marvellous cock. She slid her lips back down the shaft, then, tightening them further, she slid them all the way up again. The huge cock grew even bigger and her mouth began to ache with containing its width, but pleasure overrode the pain as she moved her mouth back and forth, back and forth, until she felt her head would explode with the intensity of her actions.

Suddenly she felt his hands gently push her head away. Her pussy was throbbing and so wet that she knew it was soaking the couch, but the thought of leaving a mark of their passion forced her new-found pleasure into an intensity so strong that she cried out loud.

‘Please take me now! Oh take me. Take me. If I don’t come now I’ll die!’

He picked her up and placed her onto the floor. 

‘Why here?’ She asked, although it really didn’t matter where as long as he took her that very moment.

‘Because floors are hard and cold and dirty. Even yours my Love. And we need to make sure that we beat this obsession don’t we?’

Obsession. What obsession? She had almost forgotten all the fear and loathing she had had for dirt and odours and she sure as hell didn’t want to be reminded of them now. She renewed her concentration on the beast. His smell was now so intense that it enveloped her with its power. She was heady with his musk. It was like a drug that had taken all her cares away and filled her with all the passion of a bitch on heat. God, she loved it!

Managing to contain her need just a moment longer, she lay back on the hard floor, drew up her knees, spread her thighs, and watched him come to her. He lowered his body until he was just above her, then, oh so slowly, he pushed the wonderful, enormous cock into her pussy until she thought she would burst. She writhed in pain and ecstasy.

‘Hold still, my Love. Let’s take this slowly and enjoy the moment.’ 

His voice was like the purr of a lion, so powerful and yet so kind. He began to move tenderly, backwards and forwards, enveloped in her hot juices and drinking in their warmth.

But she couldn’t stand it any more. The whore of her visions took over and cried ‘Oh please, please come! Fill me with your spunk until I burst. I want to feel that gush inside me. Please. Please.’

His movements grew stronger and rougher. Her back bumped against the hard floor, fuelling her fervour. She cried and moaned and sobbed until she reached that dark place where time stands still. The world exploded in a million colourful stars and her pussy throbbed around his cock, grasping it and pulling it deep within her. He gave a howl that filled the room. His back arched and his cock pulsed powerfully in her pussy, and then he came with a gush that filled her so high that she felt its heat flow through her whole body. They clung tight to each other, writhing in an ecstasy that was uncontainable, until, slowly, the pressure subsided and they collapsed in each other’s arms, wracked with exhaustion. 

xxxxxxx

Sophie came to on the cold floor. Her body had been covered with a throw and her head had been placed on a soft cushion. She glanced around, but the room was empty. The only sound was the ticking of the clock.

The clock! What on earth was the time? Oh my God. Graham would be home soon! 

She struggled up, massaging her aching back. Her pussy was sore and swollen and her nipples were bright pink from the bites they had received. But she felt so good. She rubbed her pussy and her clit immediately bobbed into life. ‘Later.’ She laughed. ‘We’ve got other things to do now’.

She hurried upstairs and took a shower. Her back was bruised, but it would recover soon. In fact, she had never felt better in her life. She was filled with such energy that it would be easy to race around and prepare the meal in time for Graham.

Later, as she placed Graham’s dinner on the plate, she heard his key turn in the door. His walk sounded heavy and tired. Well she would soon cure that. If she could be cured by sex, anyone could.

‘Graham’, she cooed. ‘I’m in the kitchen. Would you like to come and stroke my breasts while I uncork the wine?’

She smiled and waited for her husband to enter her lair. What a night they were going to have!


End
 

