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Sunday, August 29, 2004

"You smell like...."

Hair still damp from my shower, I gathered a few things together in an overnight bag and waited for Rick to pick me up. I had been out of town for nearly a week and hadn't seen him since the day I left. He had rented a swanky hotel suite downtown and would soon be stopping by the house to sweep me off.

I couldn't wait to see him, I'd missed him terribly in my time away. I longed to feel his touch, to kiss him, just to share his company. Bag packed, I waited near the front window, looking for his car while tiny butterflies fluttered about my tummy. Finally, he pulled into the drive. I decided to wait for him to come to the door, although my body told me to run out to the car and meet him. We'd been dating for nearly a year, but I still felt it was important not to seem too overly eager.

Three taps on the door. I take a deep breath and count to ten before answering it. Upon seeing his familiar face, I erupt into giggles and wrap my arms around his neck. My cool act was defeated.

His arms squeeze me tightly as my lips find his. We kiss. Soft and sweet.

"I missed you," he says.

"I missed you too!" I reply.

I can see a hunger in his eyes as his hand reaches up and holds my jaw in place as he devours my mouth with his own. I let out a tiny sigh, as my thigh brushes up against his crotch, feeling his hardness pulsing against my leg. Knowing that he is so turned on makes me that much wetter.

Suddenly he stops.

"C'mon. Lets get going," he says as he grabs my bag for me.

In the car, I place my foot up on the dash to adjust my ankle bracelet.

"You smell like pussy."

I turn to him, a concerned look on my face. "What did you say?"

He smiles and places his hand on my thigh. "I can smell your pussy. You must be really wet." His fingers slide under my skirt and beneath the thin material of my panties. Seeing the puzzled look on my face, he adds, "It smells good. I like it. Most men enjoy the smell of a good clean pussy."

I took deep breaths, trying to catch the scent he spoke of with my own nose. All I could smell was perfume and remnants of the soap I used in the shower. Was I immune to my own scent? Was he telling the truth? Did he like the smell of my pussy? The car ride down town was filled my wondering these very things.


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