Aroma Lust, Fresh Scents

Reflecting on my recent tryst has made shit smelling sex more convenient. Only a few hours drive away. A new dimension in fulfillment of sexual decadence. Evelyn added a shit loving partner. Nancy added a shitaholic indecency. Margaret has added convenience, almost instant gratification. My sex life, for an old dyke, has hit a trifecta.

Not much to complain about in my masturbation regimen. Real memories to enhance old fantasies. A slight anterior prolapse reminds me that I am getting older and a bit wetter in the urinary incontinent category. I have made lemonade from the occasional leakage. My wipes give me an appreciation of the erotic odor of stale piss. Fecal aroma is still the sexier smell.

When I received Margaret's invitation to visit her at her home in Jackson County it was a long and rambling missive recounting our fecal frolic. Peggy promoted the beauty of her bucolic area. She lives on a small horse ranch. As an aside she mentioned the aroma of horse manure wafting in the air as one of her pleasures. Besides human shit that is the only other animal excrement that I find attractive.

Busy as I am with home upgrade projects since retiring I wanted to get together. She suggested a day or two overnight at her place.

In Europe the first flush of sharing fecal lust with Evelyn had thrown my usual caution to the wind. When we spent a few days at Mykonos we frequented quaint but remote locations. I have a paranoid side that lights up in regard to sexual hideaways. Sex and violence sometimes coexist. Rare among women lovers, but not unknown.

The cautionary note is embedded in my brain. Career has made me analytical and prone to forecast different outcomes to solve current situations. The response to Peggy was ardently affirmative. I do want to document where and when I am going. Particularly in Autumn this part of Wisconsin is lovely, but remote. A gift is appropriate for the invitation. Stinky cheese sets the right message. After all this is cheese country. An assortment sent ahead of my arrival documents my whereabouts. Premium limburger is disgusting to many but sensual to us. So I have taken care of my sex bunker thoughts. I reward myself with an index finger in my ass to inhale my shit.

Texting is my preferred communication. It is more impersonal than the phone. It is less chatty, more direct. We did speak on the phone the day before I was to head out there. The cheese had arrived. Predictably she said it was unnecessary. I retorted that we could both eat some stinky morsels. Let us eat stinky morsels she added.

I pack lightly. Added a few pairs of stained undies and my mineral oil lubricant.

My vehicle is an old BMW 2002. Still handles great and I have long ago stopped making payments on it. Mid Autumn is a wonderful time to drive in Wisconsin. The trees are showing off and the air has the promise of colder weather on the way.

My diet the past 2 days has been beef and potatoes. My bowels will be adequately compact.

GPS performs flawlessly. The animated lady's voice is so pleasant. Her lovely commands bring me through the ranch country.

Peggy has a pleasant homestead. I was glad that she was not waiting at the doorstep. I did not want to interrupt her routine too much. A ranch with horses demands your time. The wafting aroma of road apples was a pleasant stimulus. Still limber enough to get over the fence, Peggy greeted me with an infectious smile. And we embraced. She was feeding her 4 horses. There are 2 Appaloosa and a pair of Quarter horses. At about 16 hands they are impressive.

In short order she gave me a tour of the farmhouse. Along with the outlying buildings the feel was one of having some history. There are no pets. When I asked about that she answered forthrightly that her fecal obsession made it awkward. When I smell from shit the animals would respond in a too familiar manner was her answer. Looking directly at me she said we even have this secret from animals. Shit smelling is very limited to our species and our sex.

The farmstead tour came to the spacious kitchen. Peggy made a few margaritas and asked me if I cared to smoke a couple of joints. Pot has always removed my inhibitions and makes me very, very horny. It makes her horny too. By the second joint she had her hands in her pants, rubbing her clitoris and inserting her other fingers into her posterior orifice.

She wanted to show me how she had fixed up her basement as a pleasure cave. I was too horny to worry that this was the torture chamber. It was a large room with an adjoining master bathroom. As we came down the stairs the strong fragrance of horseshit was overwhelming. The floor was slate without grout. Easy to clean up bodily waste. On the far side is an island with assorted items hanging from a pot rack. Prominent were various enemas, butt plugs and dildos. On the counter were jars with lubricants, vinegar and mustard. Peggy likes to smear herself with assorted stinky items. The one item that did not fit was patchouli oil.

The center piece of the room is a large leather bound bed. It is a fine piece of workwomanship. The leather, taut and seamless. This is the source of the horseshit aroma. I bent over to smell it. Delicious. This was what she termed riding the rhino. Peggy had built this formidable piece of furniture. The smooth and fragrant leather had a hornlike protrusion. The horn was firm and yet supple. It was an ingenious penis. The innards have a breast implant gel like substance and it is temperature regulated. At the top are hand grips. There is a place to put your face. Like a massage table. Peggy had put a shelf underneath so that she could place bowls of feces a few inches from her nose.

I inquired how she was able to keep the aroma so strong. The eternal problem facing shit smelling lust is that the shit smell dissipates quickly. Curing the hide with alum and horseshit permeates the interior and maintains the fecal odor.

Peggy wants me to lay down on the horsey bed and ride the rhino. I was so horny. Peggy stripped me then she helped place my cunt on the lip of the horn. Fortunately we are about the same height. I grabbed the top grips and pulled myself forward, slowly, so slowly. When I placed my face in the opening the fragrance of Peggy's shit stained undies below my nostrils enhanced this divine moment. Gently at first, then grinding a little more deeply I was fucking the bed. Could it be any more erotic? Yes. Peggy had her finger in my shithole. She played with me. In and out went her fingers. She told me she could not help herself but she had to eat my shit. Peggy asked me if she could perform analingus on me. Of course, but I may faint was my reply. I held back a bit. I wanted this to last forever.

Peggy had created ecstasy. After my climax I was ready to nap. I had to profusely thank her for this amazing sex. She quietly added we have more time together. I am sure you will make me happy.