The Scent of Him Ch. 01

"Oh baby, you look so hot when you're aroused like this," she hears her husband moan as his turgid cock slides in and out of her swollen pussy. She whimpers in pleasure as he thrust more deeply, lowering his mouth to her stiff nipples as she wraps her legs more tightly around his waist. He lifts his head then, and she watches him looking down at where his cock enters her, knows he enjoys seeing his thickness stretching her open, seeing her swollen labia sink inward with the pressure of his cock, then stretch out, sliding along his shaft leaving a sheen of sticky wetness. The smell of their sex fills the room, intoxicating them with its vapor.

"Baby, I fantasize about having pictures of you this way. You're so beautiful! I want pictures of your wet, swollen pussy and stiff nipples, pictures of you with your eyes half shut and glazed with lust. "

"Mmmm, yes," is all she can muster, her brain clouded with arousal as his cock shaft rubs her erect clit with each stroke. He leans down again, taking first one nipple, and then the other, into his mouth and sucking them deeply and rhymically, then nipping at them gently. She arches toward him, offering her heaving tits to his mouth. "Ahh!" she cries when his teeth nip harder, giving her the pleasure-pain he knows she craves, the sweet torment he's taught her to love, to need as much as life itself. He slows his thrusts and she whimpers in frustration. "Say yes, baby," he pleaded softly against her ear. "Say yes and I'll let you cum all over my cock." She feels herself writhing against him in her effort to make contact with his delicious cock again. She arches her hips upward as far as she can, and the sensitive tip of her clitoris makes contact with his silky, hard cock shaft. He immediately pulls away, making her groan in frustration.

"Yes, please," she moans, desperate for release, and he thrusts into her again, hard, then pounds her slick pussy until it contracts in waves, milking the juice from his balls as they both cry out their release.

*****

The next morning, she awakens rested and sated from their intense sexual encounter. He always leaves her both fulfilled and empty; sated temporarily, yet eager for his touch. The sheets on his side of the bed are still slightly warm, the scent of him lingers, as she slides from between the soft fabric. Since she's known him, her body has felt so voluptuous, so responsive. Even though he satisfied her so thoroughly the night before, she knows that it will only take a look, a word, the brush of his body against hers, and she will be under his spell again. She walks naked into the bathroom; the steam from his shower still fogs the edges of the mirrors. She leans over and turns on the taps. Standing, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her long blonde hair trails over her shoulders in sleep-rumpled disarray. Her lips are swollen, and her eyelids heavy with sleep. She notices that her nipples are red and swollen from his attentions of the previous night. They look huge on her full breasts.

He loves her large nipples, and often makes her wear bras and blouses that show them off. Sometimes, when they are playing their games, he even makes her wear a nearly sheer blouse with no bra. He knows how nervous it makes her, and he also knows how aroused she becomes, despite her embarrassment. Since they moved in together he's also forbidden her to wear panties, a situation she is becoming accustomed to, although in the beginning she felt so naked and vulnerable. He wants her body to be accessible to him, and she complies, wanting it even more than he does.

Stepping under the hot spray, she picks up her shower puff and drizzles gel onto it. The scent of lavender fills the room as she lathers her stomach and breasts, and then lets the soft netting slide between her legs. Soapy bubbles fill her short, blonde pussy hair, and she nearly moans when the netting brushes over her clit and inner pussy lips, their soreness reminding her again of the delicious fucking she received the night before.

After her shower, she pulls on a short, cotton dress, wanders out to the kitchen and fills a mug with hot coffee, then adds cream and sugar. Sliding into a chair at the table, she sees the note he left:

Thank you for saying yes, baby. You won't regret it! I love you.

What had she said yes to, she wondered? Picking at a piece of cold toast he'd left on a plate, she racks her brain trying to remember. Slowly, it comes to her. The pictures! She'd said yes to the pictures he wanted! Tiny butterflies start in the pit of her stomach. For some reason, the idea of having her picture taken while she is nude has always scared the hell out of her. She can't believe he's coaxed a yes out of her! He certainly hasn't played fair! Well, she reassures herself, he won't make her go through with it when he realizes just how nervous it makes her.

She spends her morning at the computer. Her job as an editor for a small publishing firm allows her some flexibility with telecommuting. Her cell phone rings about 11:30, the special ring telling her it is her lover calling. "Hello?" she answers, her voice husky, the way it becomes when she talks to him. "Hi baby," his voice warms her insides, makes her smile. "Whatcha doin?"

"Working," she laughs softly. "What are you doing?"

"I'm daydreaming about my favorite girl," he admits. "Meet me for lunch?"

"Sure," she agrees, "Where?"

"That little Italian place around the corner sounds good to me. How about you?"

"Perfect! And I'm starving. I didn't eat breakfast, "she confesses. "What time?"

"Meet me there in fifteen minutes," he directs, "and no bra or panties."

Her breath catches in her throat, and her stomach tenses. "Okay," she whispers.

"You have that sound in your voice," he tells her. "The one you get when your pussy swells and moistens."

"I know," she admits, realizing how addicted she is to feeling this way, to the nervousness and submission, to his making her give in to her deepest needs. She hears a soft click as he hangs up, and only then does she close her little phone and rise from her chair. She grabs her purse from the kitchen, and lets herself out the side door into the garage. In five minutes she is on her way.

She drives in to the parking lot right behind him, and pulls her little red car up in a spot next to his dark gray Lexus. She steps from her vehicle and walks to him. He sits there, door open, waiting for her approach.

"Nice," he says, eyeing her thin, summery dress. "Did you follow my directions?"

"Yes," she says hesitantly. "She has only disobeyed him once, and the repercussions had not been worth it. She needs him like she needs oxygen.

"Show me," he insists.

She steps behind his car door to hide herself as best she can, then slowly lifts the hem of her dress. His eyes follow the slow uncovering of her long, tanned thighs, until finally, he sees just a peek of her naked cunt before she lowers the material.

"Good girl," he praises her. "I can tell you don't have a bra on. I could see your breasts jiggling when you walked toward me. Your nipples are sticking out too. I'm sure all the other men in the restaurant will enjoy them as much as I do."

While he is talking, his hand slides up her thigh until his palm cups the mound of her pussy, his fingers sliding through the short, crisp hairs along her pussy lips. Her breathing quickens, and he watches her face as her eye lids lower half way, and her green eyes darken with arousal.

"You feel swollen from last night," he notes. "And you're already wet. I knew you would be." His middle finger probes her opening, sinking into the wet heat of her vagina, then pulling back to rub lightly over her stiffening clit. His other hand slides under her dress and reaches to cup her ass, his fingers working their way into her ass crack until one finger rubs gently over her tight, pink asshole. She arches against his hand, her pussy suddenly gushing on his fingers.

"That's my girl," he coaxes her. "I love the way your clit pokes out from between your pussy lips when you're aroused, like it's begging for attention. It is, isn't it baby? Your greedy little clit wants to be kissed and licked, doesn't it? "

"Oh yes," she lisps, wanting more than anything to sink down onto his hands, to rub lewdly against him, to have his hard cock driving into her as she bends over the trunk of the car. He's fucked her that way before, leaning over the car in the parking lot of another restaurant. Only that time it had been dark, and they'd been parked at the back of the lot. Now it was broad daylight, and she struggled to control herself.

"You're not going to cum, are you baby?" He demands. "Because I haven't given you permission. You never cum without permission."

"No," she whispers. "No, never cum without you saying it's ok," the words tumble jerkily from her mouth, her control wavering on the edge as she forces her body to resist cumming, when she needs more than anything to give in to the feeling, to feel the pleasure wash over her and wipe out everything else.

Suddenly, he pulls his hands away. She opens her eyes then, and looks down to see him smelling them and then putting his fingers to his mouth and tasting the pussy juice on them.

"You taste like heaven, baby," He moans. "Lean over here and clean off my fingers so we can go in and eat."

She does as he instructs, her body thrumming with arousal, as she tastes herself on his fingers, feels her own smell coat the insides of her nostrils.

"That's good," he said, pulling his fingers from her mouth and gently pushing her back as he stands up from his car. She feels dazed, and barely remembers walking into the restaurant. All she can remember is how the cotton material of her dress feels rubbing against her stiff nipples, and how her musky wetness is leaking from between her swollen pussy lips and coating her upper thighs. When they walk into the building, the air conditioning hits her like a blast, heightening her already sensitive skin, making her nipples pucker even more, the coolness like a chill wind rushing under her dress. She shivers, and he puts an arm around her.

They are led to a booth near a sunny window, and as always, they sit on the same side. He has insisted on it since the first time he took her to dinner. He wants her close to him, her body touching his. And she acquiesces because she likes it as much as he does. She feels her wetness trickling out, and worries that it will leave a wet spot on the back of her dress, or maybe even on the seat beneath her. She fidgets.

"You're worried about being wet, aren't you?" He guesses. "About leaving a spot on your dress and having everyone see it when we leave?"

She blushes but says nothing.

"You know they could smell you when we came in," he told her. "You smell like a bitch in heat. Every man here got hard when you walked by."

"Really?" She whispers. She never knows whether to believe him or not. Can men really smell a woman's arousal that way? Part of her hopes not, but another part finds it erotic as hell.

The waitress comes back and takes their order, and for the rest of the meal the conversation contains nothing sexual, not even innuendo. For a while, she waits nervously for him to bring up the note, the agreement she'd made with him the night before, but finally she relaxes, warmed by his charm and sense of humor. She loves talking with him, loves the connection they have that goes far beyond the bedroom. It isn't until the waitress leaves their check that he asks,

"So, did you see my note?"

"Yes," she laughs nervously. "It took me a few minutes to remember what I'd said 'yes' to."

"But then you remembered?" He looks at her intently.

"You know I can't really do that," she tells him, a note of pleading entering her voice. "You know how much that scares me."

"Yes, I do know," he admits, but there is nothing of forgiveness in his face. "I have an idea that might make you more comfortable," he mentions. "We'll talk about it more when I get home." He walks her to her car, gives her a warm kiss and hug, and then sends her back home to work before heading to his office.

******

That evening, he starts grilling chicken while she makes vegetable kabobs and garlic bread to go with it. She's had a productive afternoon working despite the residual feelings of arousal he's left in her. He likes keeping her in a state of need, and she loves feeling that way. She isn't allowed to masturbate without his permission, and he rarely allows it unless he is watching. She has learned to put off her needs, knowing that they will be very well taken care of when he decides she is ready.

They eat a leisurely meal on the patio, talking about their work days, and she relates a funny story about her niece that she's received in an email earlier that day. She doesn't ask him about his idea, partly because she likes the suspense, and partly because she isn't sure she really wants to know. It scares her that he didn't give in immediately when she admitted her fears.

After cleaning up from the meal, they go to the living room, having decided to watch a movie that had come in the mail that day. He asks her to remove her dress and sit next to him on the sofa. He has changed from his business suit, and is wearing a favorite pair of athletic shorts and a soft, worn t-shirt that she loved to snuggle against.

As soon as she removes her dress, she sees his cock growing and feels her own arousal grow along with it. She sits down next to him, and he immediately begins to fondle her breasts, lifting and squeezing them, letting his palms graze her nipples until they are exquisitely erect, and only then taking them between his fingers to pull and twist gently at them, making her moan. He continues his ministrations, teasing her swollen tit buds until her hips are convulsing involuntarily and her cunt is leaking musk onto the sofa beneath her.

She slides his cock from the confines of his shorts, and strokes it, sliding her hand up and down the throbbing shaft and over the hugely swollen head, squeezing drops of pre-cum from his cock slit and smearing the lubricant back down over his glans and onto his shaft. He moans with her, pumping his hips slightly to force his cock more quickly through her gripping fist.

He continues working her distended nipples as she arches and writhes against him, barely able to sustain her grip on his cock. He has always sworn that someday he will make her cum from nipple play alone, but it hasn't happened yet. She believes him. It is only a matter of time and place.

"Please, hon, please touch my pussy now! I need your cock inside me! Please!" She pleads.

"Soon baby," he growls as her pumping fist brings him to new levels of need. "First we're going to talk about the pictures you agreed to." He kisses her then, letting his tongue enter her mouth, feeling her full lips submit to his firm ones. "Slide over here on my lap," he directs her, "and listen to my idea."

She straddles him, and he guides his cock between her swollen labia. They both watched as the bulbous head disappears between her slippery cunt lips, pushing them upward and apart as she sinks onto it.

"Yeah, baby," he groans. "Take that big, hard cock. Take all of it." And she works herself down until his entire shaft disappears inside her. Only then does she begin to rotate her hips, rock them back and forth, and pump up and down, working his big cock around inside her, making it hit all the most sensitive places.

"Mmmm," she groans. "I've needed you all day," she admits. "You make me so crazy-hot for you."

"I'm crazy-hot for you too." He admits. I've been thinking all day about the pictures. It makes me wild."

"Mmm." She moans again, lost in sensation.

"Here's my idea," he begins, his voice hoarse. "You probably feel uncomfortable about a stranger taking the pictures for us, cause they'd see you and they'd have access to copies of your pictures." He pauses. "So I have a solution."

"Oh, baby," she utters as his hands once again began to tease her nipples.

"Is that why, sweetie?" He pushes for an answer.

"S'part of it," she mumbles, still riding his cock, enjoying the slow sweetness of their passion.

"You know I'm going to make you do this, don't you baby?" He pushes for more. "Because I know it'll make you as hot as it makes me."

"Don't know," she whimpers as he leans forward to take a swollen, red nipple into his mouth. "Ahh!" she arches her back, pushing her firm tit into his face.

"How would you like your Daddy to take the pictures, baby?" He whispers, pushing his cock up inside her with a deep thrust. "I know how much you fantasize about him. How would you like your Daddy to see his little girl naked and aroused?"

"Oh God!" she blurts, and immediately convulses in an intense orgasm, her swollen vagina squeezing and releasing his cock as she jabs her pussy up and down in the throes of it.

"Yeah, baby!" He grunts, as his cock head swells and semen shoots out, glob after glob filling her sucking pussy.

She collapses against his chest breathing hard, their sweaty bodies pressed together, the scent of their sex filling the room. Stroking the back of her head, letting his hand slide down the length of her long, blond hair, he feels her relax against him.

"I knew you'd like my idea, baby." He speaks softly against her ear. Part of her regrets telling him how much she fantasizes about her daddy. "And we both know he loves taking pictures."

"I don't know," she hesitates. "How about if he just took some of me in lingerie? You'd like that too, wouldn't you?" She pleads.

"I would," he agrees. "Maybe we could start that way if it makes you more comfortable." He softly kisses her hair. "You know I want you to like it as much as I do."

What really scares her is that she is afraid she'll like it too much.

"I'll talk to your Dad." She feels his hands slide down to cup her ass, slowly massaging her firm, rounded cheeks.

"Okay," she agrees, a slight catch in her voice. "If I can wear the lingerie, I think I can do it."

"You can do whatever I ask you to do, baby." His fingers slide between her ass cheeks, rubbing against her asshole. "You're my hot little bitch, aren't you?"

"Yes," she purrs, arching her back and circling her hips, her sensitive asshole greedy for his touch.

*** The next night she is in the kitchen making a light garlic sauce for the pasta when he finally arrives home. It is nearly 7:30, later than usual for a Friday night. He generally tries to quit a bit early on Fridays.

"Hi lover," his arms encircle her from behind, and he kisses her neck and ear before she can turn into his arms.

"Hi," she murmurs, melting against him. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes," he admits, "but mostly for you, although that sauce smells wonderful!"

"Have a late meeting?" she queries.

"No," he looks into her eyes, pressing her hips against the counter with his. She can feel his penis, full and heavy against her. "I went to see your Dad."

She pulls back from him a bit, although she can't too far because he is holding her against the counter.

"What did he say?" Her voice is suddenly nervous.

"He said he'd be glad to help us out. He understands why you'd be nervous around someone else. Honestly, he seemed eager to do it. Said he'd never taken 'boudoir' pictures before." She blushed furiously.

"I bet he never imagined he be taking them of his daughter!"

"I bet he did," her husband replied. "As hot as you are, I'm sure your Dad thought of you in lingerie. Maybe even in less than that. You're not the only one who has fantasies," he reminded her.

"When?" She hated to ask. Wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"He'll be here in about an hour."