Scent and Scentsibility

My engorged penis rested on her bum flesh, shaft curving upwards, a thick fleshy scimitar, glans a dull red poking through my foreskin. As the flow of erotic input coursed through me, it would jump up and plop softly down again on her firm flesh, forming a faint pink line on her whiteness.

She was kneeling forward on the picnic blanket, balanced on her forearms, offering up those most intimate regions to the late afternoon sunshine dappling through the branches.

Her anus glistened pinkly, a thin film of secretions covering the regular striations dipping down into the tightly shuttered opening.

The anal aroma rose powerfully to my nostrils. The baseline component was earthy, overlaid by fart residues and the sharply acidy smell of her secretion - essentially a fluid formed by the breakdown and repair of the inner lining of the bowel that collects in the rectum and leaks through to the outside.

I glanced down at her vagina, my penis hopping up and thumping down again. The outer lips were swollen, inner lips red and moist. Her vaginal entrance was hanging open, beefy red tissues visible inside. Beads of thin clear liquid gathered and coalesced, a tiny stream beginning to travel down the inner thighs on the way to her panties pulled down to mid thigh. This was her initial gout of lubricant, to be followed in due course by a creamy white viscous deep vaginal ointment, teased to the surface by vigorous penile thrustings. Her hood had retracted and the clitoris gleamed , wet and fat.

The vaginal aroma was strong, though more subtle. It was tinged by a ghostly whiff of dried pee from the wiry blonde hedge framing her genital area, a legacy of three days of travel with no means of washing herself.

My penis twitched again, decidedly urgent. The glans was now a dusky purple red and a thick string of prostate ooze joined a little pool on her buttock. With a sense of foreboding I realised the bell was ringing and that I was too damned close to climax and would leave her hot , wet and disappointed after a few strokes - what to do?

I'd first met her in excruciatingly embarrassing circumstances about three days ago.

My girl friend had left camp with a group of girls, travelling to a town thirty miles away.

They intended to visit a leisure centre and slough off the grime of primitive camping, returning with vast amounts of wine and beer.

I decided to strike out well beyond the camp environs and hike towards the distant hills. Light pack on my back , I strolled through lightly wooded country, largely unexceptional.

An hour on, my bowels became vociferous, demanding immediate release : two days travelling by boat and train to this remote area of Spain had bunged me up.

Choosing a spot between two verdant bushes, I dug a hole with my collapsible trench tool and squatted down, confident in the knowledge that there couldn't possibly be anyone around.

The relief was incredible, the long slow passage of two large stools, almost sexually pleasurable. I cleaned myself thoroughly with tissues, folding them up into tiny squares and placing them into a small sealable plastic bag for carrying back to the camp disposal system. I filled in the toilet hole, and pulled up my boxers.

My penis was semi- erect, no doubt due to the stimulation of my prostate by an unusually large bowel movement. Stroking it idly, I decided to go the whole way, and descended into a pleasure reverie as one does in this situation.

I glanced up from my concentration on my penis and was startled to see a girl about twenty feet away, watching my actions intently, but in a dispassionate way, showing no sign of flight or fright. Not that I cared - I was very close.

She began to walk towards me, and I noted her tiny breasts with long nipples showing through an almost unneeded bra and her thin tee shirt.

A foot away, she turned round and backed into me, my eyes on her flesh coloured tracksuit bottoms that were snug fitting with the rear seam sliding in between her prominent buttocks, separating them and framing them.

She calmly pulled down her bottoms and panties, shuffled them to the ground and reached behind her for my penis. She placed my erection lengthwise between her buttocks and

closed them tightly around it with her hands. Bending at the knees, she slid up and down, my penis trapped in a tunnel rubbing against the corrugations of her anus.

Stertorous breathing alerted her to my end game. She turned around and as I groaned my disappointment, grasped my shaft and gently pulled my foreskin over my penis head, clamping

it shut over the urethral opening.

An extraordinary thing happened - she began stroking the underside of my penis head with her index finger, stimulating that rough area of supersensitive male tissue that approximates to the clitoris through my foreskin. They were

feathery light strokes, intensely pleasurable sensations but almost other worldly because orgasm was there but not there. I wondered where she could possibly have learned these esoteric techniques.

Minutes later her stroking became heavier and I understood she wanted finis. As I reached end point , she was watching carefully: as my penis

bunched and bulged before my first spurt of semen she released my foreskin - a white coil of ejaculate hit her neck and upper edge of her tee shirt. Subsequent spasms, ever diminishing in force and volume, marked her tee shirt between her breasts, spattered on her blonde pubic hair, upper thighs and lower leg and a few drops settled in her panty crotch. As my penis softened, she gently placed the tip into her mouth and gave my opening a few friendly licks, tasting my still exuding semen.

That was it, really. She stepped out of her bottoms and panties, using the latter to wipe my semen from her legs thighs and pubes.

She pulled her tee shirt off and similarly cleaned off her neck and chest, then balling the two up together into the outer pocket of her pack. Fishing out a clean tee shirt and knickers, she dressed, unselfconscious, nonchalant and utterly bewitching.

We walked back to camp in companionable silence, and as we parted, I invited her to meet me and my girl friend for a bottle or two of wine and an al fresco meal at our camp shack. She accepted and we went our separate ways.

My dilemma grew worse as i could feel the tightening of my prostate as it readied itself for the finale.

I'm no super stud but I try my utmost to bring maximum pleasure to my partner in sex, a cardinal rule of the Safe Sex Club to which everyone here in primitive camp belongs.

I decided that the honourable thing was to confess my problem to her.

Her reaction was unexpected. She wordlessly reached back and picked up my penis, feeding it very very slowly, half inch by half inch, into her. This counter intuitive action was, perversely, calming. I could only think that my sexual psyche had handed over control to her, thus freeing me from I don't know what.

My over stimulated glans eventually came to rest deep inside her, unmoving against a firm

barrier that could only be her cervix.

Then began a most amazing sequence - her vaginal muscles tightened on the base of my penis and this pressure shimmered up my length, ceasing about half way. My penis head was forgotten as I tuned into this new sensation. She continued this internal massage for several minutes - incredible control.

The end came when she instructed me to thrust in and out of her as hard as I could - I did so and she slowly raised herself off her forearms and still kneeling, assumed an upright position. A soft series of animal grunts signaled her climax. I followed suit, ejaculating violently, and roaring my pleasure.

A strong smell invaded my nostrils redolent of faecal matter - she had relaxed her anal sphincter in the throes of orgasm, a thing my girlfriend often did and a thing of nothing.

I wiped her down carefully, putting the soiled tissues away in a plastic bag. She reached into her handbag and tore open a tampon, coolly inserting it into her brimming vagina. She said it would absorb my semen - she didn't want it dribbling into her panties and anyway she was meeting a boy for sex in the toilet blocks after dinner and sloppy seconds was not fair!!

God bless her - we agreed to meet again in different surroundings, this time more public and maybe involving a group scenario.