Message-ID: <27083asstr$972731405@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <20001028031116.13509.qmail@web10304.mail.yahoo.com> From: One Gallus Subject: {ASSM} SMELLING LOU Date: Sat, 28 Oct 2000 07:10:05 -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: RuiJorge, dennyw __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Yahoo! Messenger - Talk while you surf! It's FREE. http://im.yahoo.com/ <1st attachment, "Joe 1.txt" begin> {ASSM} SMELLING LOU (MF Cheat) Disclaimer Not to be read: by anyone under the age of 18 or if it violates the standards or laws of your community: or if adult erotica offends you. Not to be posted on any site, or changed, added to or used in any way without author's permission. Smelling Lou I'm very much a conventional person, except for the writing. I can't suppose one would think that telling lies to tell the truth is ordinary, even if you do make it plain, up front, that your telling lies. So, I try to keep all that business secret. I travel under the guise of a middle-aged high school speech teacher, and that's how my friends know me. My real life, however, is taking place right now, pecking and picking at the egg of a story, then watching the ugly moist-matted, chick emerge. Then trying to clean it, fluff it, feed it, house it and watch it grow. When it has reached full strength, I send it off to the slaughterhouse and it ends up in a supermarket, hopefully for someone's enjoyment. I am well aware that my metaphor suggests the laying of eggs, and I must confess that I have clucked over a few. Because I am conventional, my wife, the mall surveyor, and I have conventional friends. Les is a retired mechanic, and his wife, Lou, is a semi-retired bookseller, though she is ten years younger than Les. She worked at a well- known chain, and had actually run the store, until she backed away from it three years ago. Lou now enjoys a combination of part-time work and part-time retirement with Les. Les won't let anybody touch my cars but him. He is constantly interested in my little 89 Toyota Carolla, how it is running, if the oil is clean, if the anti-freeze is adequate and if the brakes are good. I'm fortunate to have such a friend, for I have no concern for such things, as necessary as they are, and no talent to fix them if they go wrong. All I have to give in return is my company, which he seems to like, and my frequent pick-ups of the restaurant tab. One Wednesday night, Les and Lou and Carolee and I and were together at the Big Boy for a sandwich supper. "Les," I said, "My right wheel is making a funny noise." Les, who has bright red hair, thick glasses, and is mostly deaf, watched my lips carefully. "Real funny toys?" Les was like a stump in a crowded restaurant. I spoke more distinctly and slightly louder as Lou and Carolee giggled at his handicap. " My car--funny noise!" I articulated. "Oh! Well, bring it by tomorrow and we'll check it out. I need to run a test on your coolant anyway." Les and I talked on about the vagaries of old cars and Lou and Carolee pursued the subject of wallpaper. Lou had done her own house and several others as well. She has flair for that sort of thing, interior decorating, landscaping, flower growing, and flower arrangement. There are not many times I have entered her house when I did not smell a bouquet flowers of her grown from her own labor and love. Now that she had retired from the bookstore, she could indulge such hobbies. Lou's many interests are testimonies to her high energy level. She always has something doing, and I am a bit pleased that she is Les's wife and not mine. Once she gets a notion to do a thing, she not only does it, but follows it through to the end. Aside from her time at the bookstore, she sells Avon, which is in fact more a hobby than a job. Even now, over my club sandwich, I could smell her perfume wafting across the table. "Lou, is that a new Avon fragrance? I don't think I've noticed that one before," I said. Lou smiled sheepishly, "No, that's not Avon. I cheat from time to time," she grinned. "As a matter of fact, she cheats a lot, you should see her collection of perfumes!" Carolee said. "Yes, Avon would consider me an adulteress, I have this insatiable lust for other fragrances," Lou said. Of course, Avon knows nothing about my affairs!" She rolled her eyes and winked at Carolee, and they both melted in a paroxysm of female humor. It seemed that Carolee and I never lacked for conversation with this couple. It was a great friendship, perhaps too exclusionary. We four had been criticized for our cliquishness, "If Lou sneezes, Carolee says, `Excuse me.'" The fairness of this censure was underlined by the fact that we made another date for Friday night, for steak at the Rhodes House. I relished my freedom during the summer, and I would have much preferred spending my day in front of the computer, writing, but I needed to get away from it, and I needed to take care of my car. So at ten o'clock on Thursday morning, I pulled into Les's driveway. He was waiting in the doorway of his double garage, obviously anxious to get his hands dirty on my car. In a jiffy, Les had the front end of my car on jack-stands and was pulling the right wheel. I worked as his gofer, handing him wrenches, holding the trouble-light, or whatever I could do for him. Presently, he showed me the ground-down brake pad, and sent me for new ones to Crazy Al's Auto Parts store. I was back in a half-hour, and handed him the new brake pads and shoes. He was greasy up to his elbows. As he set about his work, I said, "Les, I need to use your bathroom, nature has suddenly reared its ugly head." "You know the way!" he said. "Is Lou in there?" I asked, wondering if I should knock on the door before entering. "No, she's working, didn't you see her convertible missing?" he said. "No, I guess I'm not used to a three car family," I teased, good-naturedly. Their Cadillac and Ford pickup were parked in the drive, the yellow Cavalier convertible was missing. Lou herded it around Toledo like it was Cleopatra's chariot and she was its proud monarch. I went through the garage entrance door into their utility room, then into the kitchen, then down the hallway to the bathroom. I closed the door and started to unfasten my pants when I noticed that there was no tissue. A single half-ply hung from the cardboard roll. So, I hitched up my pants and went in search for the second bathroom. I entered their bedroom and I saw the master bath door in the far corner. Lou had evidently left in a hurry that morning, because the bed spread was simply pulled up and bunched unevenly over the pillows. I passed a closet on my right and the door was open. I caught sight of a floor full of shoes in disarray. Among them were Lou's panties and bra. I continued passed the closet into the bathroom and shut the door. As I sat there, I began to think of Lou's satiny panties, and of Lou in a way I had never thought of her before. This was Lou and Les's second marriage. They had hinted that their previous mates had been great disappointments to them, but with their children now grown, they had met, restructured their lives, and were now into their fifteenth year together, apparently happy. Lou was twelve years younger than Les, with no apparent ill effects. My opinion was that they would remain happy as long as Lou got her way. As I sat on the toilet, I involuntarily pictured this 53-year-old lady, the wife of my best friend, over there in the shower, standing naked. Lou had the body of a woman her age. However, she was not unattractive, even if she were a bit on the plump side. She was in as good condition as most, and better than many women her age. I imagined how her breasts must look, the hot water running down them onto her rounded belly, over her ample buttocks, and onto her-umm, I'd say, size 7 feet. I closed my eyes and sought a mind- picture of her soaping her dark pubic hair. I fantasized dark even though her short hair was on the verge of blonde, with a very attractive wedge cut. I always enjoyed glimpsing her smooth neck against the cut of her hair. I felt the firmness between my legs and thought of the panties on the closet floor. I finished my business, and flushed, and washed my hands. I found some room spray on the back of the toilet tank and liberally sprayed the room. I opened the door, and saw the tumbled bed before me. A light floral print robe lay in a heap on the bed. On the other side of the bed was a chest of drawers. On top was an array of small perfume bottles, her collection. I turned left, past the open closet and looked in. I thought about my friend out there in the garage, faithfully working on my car, and me in here, staring at his wife's underwear, wondering what force was compelling me to such depravity. I entered the closet and reached down and picked up the panties. A second pair fell away from the pair I lifted. I opened the first pair and looked at the crotch. I could see nothing. They looked perfectly fresh. I lifted them to my nose and smelled only a light perfume that could have been laundry soap, or it could have been a trace of Lou. I couldn't say. Why had she discarded this pair? I examined them closely and I was frankly disappointed. Didn't this woman have secretions? It was as if they had just come out of the drawer. I looked for a telltale stain, and there was nothing there. I felt of the fabric, quite thick, heavier than my wife's panties, as if there was an extra ply, but no residual moistness. I picked up the other pair and sniffed. It was here that the musky sharp smell cut into my senses. I asked myself, is it urine? If it is, it is only faintly urine. I smelled again. No, I was smelling my friend's wife who had left this trace of her most intimate self on these satiny underclothes. I held them in both hands and my face was down in the fabric breathing deeply, imaging wildly. "What does it smell like, Joe?" Lou said quietly. My heart plummeted as I realized I had been found out. I can't describe how humiliated and utterly abashed I was. I felt the heat build around my eyes and cheeks, and my knees started trembling. "Lou. I'm sorry Lou. Oh God, I'm so sorry! I feel like a perverted fourteen-year-old adolescent." "You look more like a perverted fifty-year-old bald man," she said. "I can't believe what I just witnessed. Would you please put my panties down?" I dropped them to the floor. "Joe," she said in a low, spitting voice, "Your friend, your best friend Les, is outside working on your car. He's on his back under your greasy car while you've got your nose in my dirty panties! God, Joe, how twisted can you get, not to mention how disloyal to your friend? Humph! Some friend." Lou had always had about her face, her mouth especially, a firm, almost hard texture. It was as if she were looking down on the world, inspecting and judging each failure. She even intimidated Carolee at times. Right now, she looked as if she could bite with her lips. My voice was trembling. "Lou, please don't mention this to Carolee. Oh God, Lou, this is so humiliating. I feel.I feel..." "You'd think you'd know better, Joe. What should I do? Tell me Joe, how should I handle this?" She shook her head in disappointment. I knew the question was rhetorical, she didn't want an answer from me. She probably already knew what she was going to do, but she said, "I don't know what to do! This would hurt Carolee, terribly. She doesn't deserve to be humiliated and I have no reason to do it to her. Les loves you like a brother. So did I, as for as that goes." She shook her head again and sat down on the edge of the bed. "As far as I can tell right now, there's only one person that deserves the shame, and that's you. I can tell you this, I don't want you to even look at me anymore! If you were anybody else but Carolee's husband, I would put the word out on you all over town. You keep your distance from me, you hear? "Yes," my voice was choked and hardly audible. "Look, get through with your car, go home, and leave us alone, I don't know how this is going to work out. I have to think this over. God Joe! What a.What a pig! Get out of here, will you?" I turned and walked out, feeling lower than the pile carpet in her bedroom. Les finished with the brakes in fifteen minutes and said, "Well, there you are, old buddy, good as new!" "I don't know how to thank you my friend," I said, trying to be jovial. "You won't take money, so I guess I'll have to buy you a steak!" "You'll have to buy Lou one too, after all, those were the front and back brakes," he joked. "Done!" I said, forcing the buoyancy, "The Rhodes House is on me!" There would be no Rhodes House if Lou shared the sordid secret with Les. I went home feeling very awkward, and very odd. I knew the steak dinner was going to be a strain if it wasn't cancelled. I wondered about canceling it myself, but realized that would open up all sorts of questions I wasn't prepared to answer. That night at 9:00 Carolee answered the phone. I overheard a bit of banter and, some giggles and so I presumed it was Lou. Then I heard Carolee say, "Oh sure, he won't mind. That's the advantage that I have, schoolteachers are home in the summer to do odd jobs. I'll let him know." Carole hung up the phone and called, "Joe!" "Yes?" "Don't plan anything in the morning, Lou says she's got some heavy lifting to do, and she needs your help. I told her you'd be glad to give her a hand." "What about Les?" "Les had to run up to Michigan tonight to see his mother. He'll be back by steak time," she said. I was worried about going over there. I had much preferred her first requirement, "Keep your distance from me." The next morning, I kissed Carolee bye as she left for her job. She was one of those women who stood in the mall with a clipboard and snagged people for market surveys. I put it off for a half-hour, then feeling like I was going to meet the executioner, I dressed in old jeans and a short-sleeved denim shirt, and drove over to Lou's. She opened the door stood looking at me, a hand on one hip. "Hello little boy," she said, smirking. "I know how strong your sense of smell is, how strong are your muscles?". "I guess they're OK," I said, my head down. Strangely, Lou was dressed in a knee length black dress, dark stockings and black high heeled pumps. She looked as if she were going dancing. The dress strained a bit around her hips, and her knees, along with her ankles, were just a tiny bit large. "OK," she said, "first task is to move the couch over to the other side of the room," I went to one side of the couch, and waited for her to station herself at the other end. She didn't move. "Come on boy, get busy," she said. I struggled with the couch, lifting one end, moving forward a few feet, then going to the other end and doing the same. Before it was over, I had moved all of the furniture around, often pausing to stand while she made a show of taking her time to judging the result, then she would demand another arrangement. My sweat was keeping pace with my growing hatred of this woman. Truly, she was a bitch. Finally, I said, "Look Lou, I have to get some work done at home." "Oh you do, do you?" she said lifting her voice on the first "do." Her fists were doubled and on her hips, her weight on one leg. "I just have one more job for you, come on back to the bathroom," she said, and she pranced back toward the bedroom as I followed. I watched the exaggerated movement of her hips as she strutted, and wondered what it was all about. The bathroom was a mess. Dirty underwear, his and hers, were simply thrown into the floor. Towels and wash cloths were dumped in the base of the shower. The toilet seemed extra dirty, as if she had poured filthy mop-water into it, and splashed it all over. Flecks of dirt soiled the rim and tracks of dirty water traced along the base and onto the floor. "Clean it up, boy, I'll bring you a mop and bucket." She turned to leave, then paused sneering, "And Joe-Boy, don't sniff the underwear." I worked in total silence, trying to come up with a way I might settle this with her, and get on with my life. She was obviously bent on making me miserable. After I was finished, she came in and sniffed the air and inspected the porcelain surfaces. "OK, young man, you can go now. I am looking forward to that steak tonight. You be good, and I may not work you so hard next time." I drove home in a rage, but still frustrated. I had foolishly put myself at a disadvantage and made myself a slave. If I didn't comply with Lou's every whim, then she would spill the beans. It was a kind of blackmail. I wondered how Les survived with a woman like this. I began to weigh my humiliation against the friendship I had for Les, and, of course, Carolee's relationship with Lou. Did I really want Carolee to have a friend like Lou? Would such an incident put my marriage in jeopardy? One thing for sure, Lou was counting on my fear. At 6:30 on Friday evening, Carolee and I sat down in the booth at the Rhodes House across from Lou. She smiled, avoiding my eyes, but saying, "Hi, Carolee, Hi Joe!" "Where's Les? Carolee asked. "He called, and he's going to be a little late. He didn't get away from Detroit till late. He said go ahead and order for him, he'll be here soon. "OK," said Carolee, but I have to go to the little girls' room. I'll be back in a bit. She got up and left me sitting across from the woman who evidently regarded me as the lowest slug on the earth. "I have a question for you Joe," she said, her eye burning into me. "Lou, please don't, I'm sorry. I can't stand this sort of thing. Please don't make me feel any lower than I already do. "Joe, just tell me why you did it?" There was a different tone to her voice. Was it slightly more gentle? I shook my head. "Lou, why does any man do such a thing? Lust, I guess. I saw those things laying in your closet and I just had to pick them up." My head was down. "Pick what up?" she said. She was going to make me say it. I swallowed, kept my head down, and said, "You know, Lou, your panties." "Sounds strange doesn't it. You, Joe, talking about my panties. Can you imagine Carolee and Les talking about her panties with each other?" After this surprising statement, I ventured a glance at her face. Her lips wore a slight smile. "No, I guess not, I said." "Tell me Joe, what is there about the smell that you like? Do you sniff your wife's panties? I was still uncertain as to why she was toying with me this way. I gave her another quick look, and allowed myself a slight grin of my own. "Well, yes I have." "Did they smell like mine?" she asked. It was almost as if she were struggling with her lips to keep from smiling at the novelty of such a conversation. "No, yours are different." I said truthfully. "How?" I tried to hold her gaze this time, but I couldn't, "Lou, how can I answer that? Smell is like taste. It's hard to describe different tastes." God, why did I bring up the subject of taste? I shook my head and looked down again. "Surely, if you've smelled one woman, you know what another one smells like," she said. I hardly knew what to say. She obviously was in control She could make my life total misery with just a word. I felt like I had to answer. "Lou, I'm sorry, but look at it this way, "A filet minion and a T-bone both taste like steak, but they taste different, right?" A smirk continued to play at Lou's tight lips. She started to speak, but then Les showed up, his usual jovial self, saying, "I'm going to soak you for the biggest T-bone on the menu, old buddy!" "And I'm going to soak him for a filet minion," Lou said. "I hear the taste is somewhat different." Her eyes flashed as she stared at me. I looked down. When the steaks did finally come, Lou made a show of having a bite of Lou's T-bone, and saying, "Well, the filet minion does taste a bit different! I had never thought about it before." On Saturday, Carolee had to work again at the mall. As she was leaving, she leaned over and kissed me on my bald head. "Honey, would you straighten up the bedroom and bathroom for me? I just don't have time today." "Sure Baby, no problem, I croaked, then went back to sleep. I was awakened at 10:00 AM by the phone. "Hello?" I said in a scratchy voice. "You're not up yet?" Lou's voice asked. "I am now," I said. "I had a late night on the computer." Carolee is working, isn't she?" she asked. "Yes, she'll be at the mall most of the day." "I'll be over there in fifteen minutes," Lou said. It was not a request. "I have to drop off something." This was all very mysterious. Obviously she had been turning the screws on me yesterday, and I supposed it would be the same today. "OK, see you when you get here," I said, resigned. What else could I say? I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and shaved, but the doorbell rang before I could get dressed. I put on my bathrobe and answered the door. "Hello, Joe," she said, "Here are some Avon samples. Tell Carolee it's a gift from yours truly." I opened the door and she came in, handed me the samples, and seated herself on the couch. "I have been thinking about what you did last Thursday." "Look Lou, I'm sorry." I sat on the recliner, on the end of the seat. "I don't know how else to say it, or how many times I have to apologize. What do you want from me, Lou? Is there ever going to be a time when you release me from this?" I asked. As if I had not spoken, she said, "And I've been thinking about what you said last night. Tell me, where does Carolee put her dirty clothes?" she asked. I sat still, puzzled. "I.ah.She puts them in a hamper in the bathroom." "Go see if she has a pair of panties in the hamper," Lou ordered. "What is this?" I asked. "Do it, Joe," the edge of her mouth was hard. I got up from the chair and walked the long walk down the hallway then made the turn to the right, and on to our large bedroom at the end. I entered our bathroom, also very large, and opened the hamper. At the bottom was a pile of clothes, a wadded robe above them, a bra and a pair of panties on top of that. I picked them up and turned to go back to the living room. Lou was standing in our bedroom, looking at me. She had that flinty look about her mouth with the smile just barely cracking its edges. There was an upholstered chair by the bed and she walked to it and sat. "Joe, take a whiff of Carolee's panties," she ordered. I hesitated just a moment, looking at her. Then I lifted Carolee's panties to my nose and inhaled. "You like that Joe?" she asked. I nodded my head slightly and said, very low, "Yes." "OK, smell of these," and she tossed something to me. It was, of course, her panties. When I caught them, I sensed a warmth about them, unlike Carolee's from the hamper. Obviously, she had taken them off just a few moments before I had come out. I lifted Lou's panties to my nose and inhaled. "They're the same, aren't they?" she asked. "No," I said. "They're different?" "Yes," I said. "You think you could tell the difference if you didn't know which was which?" "Yes, I think so," I said, beginning to realize that something else was at work other than Lou's outrage. She crossed her legs. She was wearing a kakhi skirt and a light blue blouse. Her skirt rode up just above her knees, she wore no stockings and her feet were in penny loafers. "Let me have both pair," she said. I held out both my hands to her and she took the panties in her own two hands. "OK," she said, uncrossing her legs and keeping the knees primly together, "Kneel down in front of me, and put your hands behind your back." I did. "Now shut your eyes." I did. "Ok, this is pair number one, smell it?" I sensed Carolee's smell instantly. "That's." "Shut up, Joe. Now smell pair number two?" I smelled, and realized it was exactly the same sensation. "Which one did you like the best?" said Lou, surprising me. "I'm afraid I can't tell," I said. "Oh? Really? I thought you were the expert on dirty panties, Joe," she said sarcastically. I didn't respond, but I opened my eyes. "Nobody told you t open your eyes." I closed them. OK, we'll try again," and I felt the smooth material in my face, "That's number one," she said. I had no doubt it was Lou's panties. "And number two." Again the sharp musk invaded my nostrils. It was the same ploy with different panties. "Well?" which do you like better?" "I can't tell. I'm sorry Lou. I guess I was wrong," I said, eyes still shut. "I'll give you another chance," she said. I felt the garment brush my face and breathed in. It was Carolee. "And number two," she said. It was Lou's scent. "Now, which one do you like the best?" "Number two," I said. This test went on for the next fifteen minutes, with every possible combination and similar question. I knew I was answering that Lou was my favorite each time. It couldn't hurt. Then she wanted me to tell her whose panties they were, and she ceased asking me my favorite. By now my penis was hardening. She kept admonishing me to keep my eyes shut, so I had no idea whether my robe was concealing me, or revealing me, so I made no move to cover up. One thing I knew, Lou knew that I could tell the difference. Eventually, I became tired. I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands. "I didn't say you could do that," Lou said. I removed my hands and smiled. "No, you didn't. But I think that's enough smelling of panties for me," I said. "You found out what you wanted to know, didn't you?" Lou looked confused. She had not realized that the balance of power had shifted, or at least evened out. She was as compromised as I had been. "See if you can tell the difference," I said. She sat with panties in each fist, still with a dazed expression. Then her features softened and she relaxed. "I don't want to smell myself," she said. "Well, smell Carolee then," I said. She looked at her hands and then lifted Carolee's panties to her nose and smelled. She looked at me over her fist. "Gosh, it's sharp," she said. "Yours is quite different. You need to compare." She looked down at her own panties. Then she looked back at me. She slowly lifted them and smelled. At that point I moved my head close to her hand and smelled too. "Umm, Lou. You smell wonderful." Her eyes grew round, afraid. I backed away. She returned Carolee's panties to her nose and breathed again. "Do you like the smell?" I asked. "Yes," she said uncertainly. "Lou, you love perfume, don't you?" "Yes." "Lou? Did you know that the most expensive perfumes have a base that comes from the glands around the sexual organs of a civit?" I kept my voice quiet and gentle. "What's a civit?" she asked. "It's a small fox like creature over in Africa. They raise the tail and press around the sexual organ and oil emerges. They collect it, and sell it. They also get it from the musk deer in Russia and China. They say it sells at a higher price than gold." I gently placed my hand on Lou's knee. It fell away from her other knee slightly. "You've smelled musk before, haven't you? In your perfumes?" "Yes." Her voice was husky. "Well," I said, "it's was a raw musk smell that I sensed on your panties. Did you notice it?" She did what I hoped she would do. She brought the panties to her nose and smelled." "Yes, yes it's there," she said. Her voice was almost a whisper. I moved a hand to her other knee, just above her knee and stroked it slowly, in a circle. Her knees parted further. "It's on Carolee's panties too," I said. She smelled of the panties in her other hand. "Ummm," she crooned. "You know, Lou, the panties are only a hint of your smell. The really beautiful fragrance comes from the source itself." I put both my palms on her inner knees and spread her legs. They fell away freely. "Lou, can you slide down just a little? I think the fragrance will be fuller that way." She pushed her tailbone toward the edge of the hair and her skirt rode up sharply, revealing her heavy thighs. A few blue vessels showed through, some purple spider veins revealed themselves. Carefully, I pushed back here khaki skirt and her pubic mound came in view. I was surprised to find that she had only wisps of hair, and what she had was graying. The flexible edge of an inner lip protruded slightly through the crevice. It glistened with moisture. "May I come closer to you Lou, and sample your fragrance?" I asked. Lou nodded her head, her eyes were loosely closed. I drew to within three inches of her vagina and breathed deeply. I could hear her breathe increase its tempo at the same time. "Lou, would you open your vagina for me?" She reached on either side of her labia and spread open her lips and the sharp aroma filled the air. A slow secretion of fluid insinuated itself down the channel. The pinkness of the soft tissue was shining, as if it had been oiled. "Oh Lou," I whispered, you are beautiful!" Her normally hard mouth was relaxed and placid. A slight smile, absent of sarcasm, and full of pleasure, lay on her lips. I backed away and stroking her thighs, keeping my touch light, but careful not to tickle, her. "Lou?" "Humm?" "I am going to come near you, but I don't want to offend you. I will pause and then let you pull me as close to yourself as you feel comfortable with. Would that be all right with you?" "Umm-humm." Her eyes fluttered halfway open. I placed my palms on the inside of her thighs and spread her a little more, then I approached within five inches of her pubis. "OK Lou, press me toward you as close as want me to come." I knew when I said the word "press" that my breath broke on her wet vagina, for she momentarily tensed a tiny bit. It felt her hands cup the back of my head and she gradually pulled me to her. I was so close I could not focus, so I shut my eyes. I inhaled rather loudly and groaned with pleasure. Then I felt her wet warm softness on my lips and nose as she pressed me home and cried out her pleasure, "Oh! Damn, fuck!" she said, deep in her throat. She bucked against my face. Oh! Oh! Joe!" she cried, almost breathless. I raised my eyes as I sucked her. Her own eyes were flashing and her teeth were clenched in pleasure. She jabbed her pubis at my face. I opened my mouth and sucked all of her soft flesh inside of it. Then I sifted it through my teeth, feeling the rough texture of her sparse hair as I did. "Oh shit! Joe, I've never done this before! Oh yes, it's so good!" I had not touched her clitoris as yet, so I trailed my tongue up the path from her opening and felt it come under my tongue-tip. Lou immediately orgasmed, and with her hands in back of my head, swabbed my wet face around her slick wet flesh, smothering my nose against it as she did. Then I felt my head being lifted, and I came up with her hands and she began now kissing my lips with her open mouth, moaning as she did. Then she signed and collapsed back into her chair. I leaned back from my knees and eyed her. Her head and shoulders were vertical, against the chair back. Her hips were partially out over the floor, and supported by her splayed feet. She riveted me with her eyes. Lou looked totally and utterly obscene, especially when she began a sliding descent from the chair. I gripped my waiting erection with a tight fist and readied it for her slithering embrace. She came down in one wonderful stroke, slick and surprisingly cozy. Her shoulders and elbows were now anchored to the chair edge. I was free to maneuver on my knees, and her hips were at liberty to lunge about with liberty as well. I heard the smacking of her inner lips as they inverted on the downstroke, and then popped outward on the upstroke. I always love to come to orgasm on my knees, for it puts my thigh muscles in tiny spasms and I finish up trembling with pleasure from my from my waist down. It was in just such a way that I came with Lou, who wrung and twisted herself on my penis until she exploded within a millisecond after me. I could not embrace and kiss her without severing this connection, so I extended the super-sensitive, but pleasurable, contact. Then, I knew my frenzied penis could stand no more. I pulled away, and let her slide her bottom to the floor. Then I bent down and kissed her deeply. Afterward, I pulled her from the tender-heap into which she had fallen, and her legs visibly trembled as she stood. She pulled down her skirt and then embraced me again. I ran my hands over her clothed breasts, and noticed that they were slightly larger than Carolee's were. She broke the kiss and looked into my eyes. "Joe? Is that true, what you said about the animals and the musk?" "Sure it is, look it up! Uh-oh, I did miss telling you something!" I said. "What?" she asked. "The musk is only taken from the males. Next time you'll have to sniff my underwear." "Or something else," she said, laughing, and gripped my flaccid penis. "Joe, would you mind if I took a shower in your bathroom?" "No problem," I said, "but I want it spic and span in there before you leave. I'll bring you a mop and a bucket." SHALL THIS BE THE END? <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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