Message-ID: <24275asstr$959159401@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <20000524041253.1354.qmail@web3501.mail.yahoo.com> From: Marie Durois Cc: cantatrice@excite.com MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Subject: {ASSM} The Smell of Sex {MF rom oral) Date: Wed, 24 May 2000 05:10:01 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw 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.] __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Send instant messages & get email alerts with Yahoo! 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