tagFetishSweet Smell of Sex-cess

Sweet Smell of Sex-cess


[Those put off by natural functions, including periods, and things like body smells of different kinds should skip this story. The narrator and all other characters are 18 or over.]

In my admittedly limited experience, girls normally place a far greater emphasis on personal hygiene than do boys. From when I was little, I learned to wash myself thoroughly. As a girl, most of my showering followed strenuous workouts in sports because I was an excellent athlete in high school in several different sports. I loved the feel of that warm shower washing off all the sweat and grime accumulated on the playing field. I also would wash out my sports bras myself right when I got home and my smelly sox and panties went right into the laundry.

I came to realize, especially when I started noticing boys, that even the ones I thought were cool and grown-up in their behavior were fascinated with the intimate parts of my wardrobe, especially, I thought, because of my athleticism. I would be scrupulously clean when I went out on a date, having showered, washed my hair, shaved my pits and legs, and not forgotten to spray a dab of perfume behind my knees as well as in other spots.

In high school, you find yourself spending a lot of time making out on the couch in the basement as boys fumble with your bra hooks and slip their hands as far into your pants as you will allow them. I did not want to seem "easy" so I made them take their time, first with my bra, which they all had difficulty unhooking and then with my panties. My parents trusted me and also knew that I had lost my virginity during high school, so by senior year, when I was already 19, I was doing plenty of fucking on that couch.

It got so that to make things a little easier on everyone, I started having my boy friends spend time with me right in my own bedroom, which was conveniently separated from the rest of our house, over the garage. Charley was probably the first who put me onto the attraction my lingerie might hold for the opposite sex. He was wonderfully good at going down on me, licking my wet pussy through my matted pubes, and even giving my cute little anal rosebud a laving with his talented tongue.

Once when I had excused myself to relieve a bursting bladder, I found him sniffing the crotch of my warm aqua panties when I returned.

"Don't you prefer the real thing I said as I dipped a finger into my wet puss and held it in front of his nose?" I said to him, chuckling and smiling as I watched him place my finger beneath his nostrils.

"I can't get enough of your fabulous woman smell," he answered, almost plaintively. "Don't you have the panties you wear during workouts and games around, Linda?"

This led to my moving my laundry basket into the bedroom so I could make these boys happy with the scent of me as presented in a delightfully intimate garment. Some of them, like Eric, who was a year older, a graduating senior, and the first steady date I actually began thinking about as a potential husband, would even give my asshole a very thorough sniffing and licking.

If it had been anyone else, I think I would have chalked him up as a true weirdo but I wasn't even that shocked when dark-haired Eric not so shyly asked if I always wiped so well. I laughed as I told him that women liked to think that they didn't sweat and that they certainly didn't leave skidmarks in their pants.

He grinned and came back at me by asking, "Linda, what about the underwear you take off in the locker room after a hard practice or a game? Save some of those for me."

I started to think about that. I rarely gave the panties I slipped off after workouts a glance as I slid them into a plastic bag and put them in my gym bag to go into the home laundry. But the next day after practice, I took a look and saw that even though I had done my usual thorough wiping job after using the toilet in a major way after lunch, there was a thin brown streak in the panty crotch.

It didn't take me long to realize that when I stimulated my sweat glands, enough wetness ran down my back or cheeks or whatever and either mixed with some inside my crack or just penetrated the anal ring enough to mix with whatever was left inside after my bowel movement and emerge right into my panties.

Eric was destined to be a psych major in college, and he explained to me that what we were dealing with here were pheromones. These were scents that women had been emanating since humankind's earliest times when we needed to attract male suitors. I began to appreciate that I too enjoyed the smell of a strong guy when he had been playing hard and sweating bullets.

I told Eric that I was pretty cool about all of this but I didn't want it to go too far. He took the hint, or maybe what I provided for him was just what he wanted. We grew apart when he went off to college and I took up with another gorgeous-looking guy, Stephen.

Stephen responded to what I had long been very hesitant to admit to anyone, much less a boy friend. I think many girls are the most turned on about sex right when things are the messiest, namely, when we are having our periods. One night in my bedroom after the bra unhooking had happened and Stephen's hands were in and out of my panties, I whispered that it might be better if we did this the following week.

He immediately grasped what I was saying; after all, boys must be used to all the ways girls talk round having to say they are having their periods.

"Linda," he answered coolly, "I bet this is when you want it the most but you're afraid that seeing you while you are menstruating will turn me off. It's the opposite. It's purely natural and a part of you and I'll be more than thrilled to help you deal with the mess."

I found a darker-colored towel in my bathroom and soon my panties came down, my legs were spread, and Stephen was helping me remove my tampon. I guess that even though I just about came when he began licking my bleeding pussy, I still was filled with enough hang-ups about my period to feel a slight shudder as his tongue touched my clit. But that didn't last long.

"Stephen," I grunted to the head buried between my legs and turning me on big time, "I don't think I can stand it one more second if you don't stick that lovely cock deep into me NOW."

The sweet boy responded and your darling Linda proceeded to orgasm and orgasm and orgasm. Finally, Stephen let go and filled me with his thick spunk and slowly shrank and withdrew. I decided to grit my teeth literally and take his now-blood-smeared member into my mouth to clean. I tasted the metallic taste of my menstrual flow and the salty taste of his jism mixed in my mouth like a very unusual buffet plate.

It was only fair, I suppose, that he reciprocated and bent back between my spread legs to take into his mouth the flowing mixture of menses and semen as it emerged from my still-excited sex.

"Wow, that was incredible!" he exclaimed to me and I smiled and told him in all honesty that I loved it because I really am at my most receptive and excited during these five days or so of my monthly.

I went away to college and got into relationships with girls and boys, few of whom seemed to be turned on by scents like my high school male admirers. I did continue to enjoy athletics, and at the college I attended and represented on the playing field, we were responsible for cleaning our own intimate apparel, while the school washed the uniforms and socks. I put my sports bras and panties in the wash the same as all my regular undies and stuff, and everything was pretty standard.

But one day, during my sophomore year, I was having lunch with one of the few girls in my sorority whom I felt I had much in common. Andrea was a lively redhead and we were on the same floor of the sorority house. After lunch, as we walked up to our rooms to begin studying yet again, she grinned at me and asked if I wanted to continue our conversation in one of our rooms. I wanted to seem friendly so I invited her into mine.

I have to admit that I don't always keep my stuff in perfect order and just as my papers were sort of piled in a rather disorderly stack on the desk, my clothes were strewn about, waiting for me to hang up the ones still wearable and put the soiled ones in a laundry bag. I wasn't and have never been a slob but I was still a college kid and as a habitué of locker rooms, I was used to having some stuff around that might give off an odor.

We sat down on the bed and as I figured might happen—and had no problem with, Andrea smiled and took me in her arms. I responded and we began to run our hands over each other's torso and felt our hair. She then proceeded to begin a deep kiss that I enjoyed thoroughly. I'm not really a lesbian, I guess I'm bi, because I just like sex a lot with both kinds of equipment.

I think I realized then that this was almost the equivalent of a one-night stand, or a one-afternoon grope. Andrea wasn't head over heels in love with me, thank the lord, because I wasn't looking to be the poster girl as a female jock for the GLBT brigade at our college. We fell back on the bed and removed each other's tops and unhook our respective bras. Andrea kissed and sucked on my tits like she had been doing this forever and I did respond by giving hers a nice going-over.

Her tits were a little smaller than mine and her frame was slighter as well. I've had to accept that I have a large frame, which has helped me as an athlete, whether it's playing tennis, lacrosse, or softball, three sports I've played at the varsity level. And large framed doesn't mean fat—I keep in good shape.

Finally the slacks came off and I chuckled at seeing her little pink panties, already obviously sopping at the crotch. Mine were the white cotton ones I tend to prefer because they work best at absorbing the perspiration that always follows a workout and wearing them manages to keep all those nasty things that women have to deal with down there, like thrush and yeast and all that, at bay.

As she proceeded to go down on me and make me feel just delightful, she noticed that the crotch of my cotton panties was sticking up next to us and yes, there were some stains. I've sort of gotten used to this because of what I said before about how working out stirs things up and thus the streaks.

Andrea happened to see some other soiled undies of mine on the rug near the bed and brought them up to eye and to sniff.

"Oh Linda," she gurgled, "I just love the way you let your panties go au naturel."

She kissed me as she was pointing to a particularly prominent brown streak in a pair of yellow panties I must have worn the day before when I got up late and threw on the first pair I could find.

"Sweetheart," I responded coolly, although I was getting hotter than hell, especially in my nether regions, "I'm a jock, remember, and we tend to do a job on our underwear. This has been real cool and I'm actually sort of happy that you noticed this. You won't believe that most of my steady guys in high school were turned on the way you seem to be by my messed undies."

This was enough for us both to crawl under the covers and enjoy pressing our tongues into each other's slits. I found that I liked Andrea's rather austere smell—for all women do have some kind of special flavor to their sex—and I hoped she liked my funky one just as much.

We became a bit of a quiet item, mostly because we both liked to date and screw guys too. Our relationship was for us to know about, but not anyone else, even the other sorority girls. We were pretty successful at that and we even got to start enjoying each other's creampies when we got back from dates.

I've gone on for too long about this but on the other hand, maybe next time I'll get into what happened to me after college and how I still find my panties are an attraction to my lovers.

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