The Scent of Desire
For me, sexual attraction has always spurred an immediate response not unlike fight or flight\’accelerated heart rate, skin flush, tunnel vision, instantaneous reflexes, or shaking. I know who I want to fuck, pretty much at first sight. Attraction isn’t an intellectual decision for me that I have the ability to control. Do I care if she has brains and a great personality? Of course I do, but that’s not what I’m talking about here. I’m actually talking about scent: the scent of her skin, hair products, perfume–even her soap. But most of all, the scent of her pussy.
The cumulative effect of all her delicious smells translates into the desire to throw her down and rip off her clothes to pleasure her in a thousand different ways. And when I’m not with her, I’m overwhelmed by the inability to get anything done\’work, writing, social obligations. All because I can’t get her off my mind or my burning clit.
I have this fantasy where I stand in a crowd of people at a masquerade ball. I peer out of my ornate mask, feathery plumage disguising me completely. I know I am completely unrecognizable, just as everyone else is anonymous and unknown. The room vibrates with sexual energy and there are more people than the maximum capacity allows. Bodies swathed in fancy dress push and move against me. I feel myself longing for my lover, even though I know she cannot meet me here tonight because she’s out of town.
Just then, two hands cover the cut-out eyes of my mask. Before I can even wonder what is happening I feel a surge of excitement kick my clit into action. I smell the unmistakable scent of my lover. I smile because I realize, from a familiar and unmistakable musky scent, that her hands have been in her pants very, very recently. I turn to her and see just another mask in the sea of the unknown and unidentifiable. But I know her.
I take her hand in mine and lead her to the bathroom. She follows, her near-naked hips swaying intoxicatingly with each step in her patent leather boots. I pull her into a stall and pin her wrists against the wall, kissing her with our disguises intact. She returns my kiss passionately and slips her fingers in my mouth. I taste her scent at the same time I enter her tight pussy with my right hand. If I had any doubts at all about her true identity, they vanish when she comes instantaneously–after only a few hard strokes–in a voice that is none other than hers. “Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, she begins. “Oh God, oh God, oh God! she finishes, screaming.
She pulls my mask off my face, then removes her own. My lover smiles at me, content with the certainty that I’d know her–anywhere.