the5.erotic/senses

This story was inspired by yet another image on Planet Manu's website at this link.

http://manu.literotica.com/galleries/2001/01_05_04/index3.shtml

Particularly the picture which is 4 down, 3 across.

If encouraged, I'll dabble with the other 4 senses. Any requests?

Enjoy.

* * * * *

Just then, there was only one aroma. The steaming hot café au lait before me. I inhaled and smiled to myself. This was a forgotten. A hangover, but not the brain-splitting kind. I was still drunk and somewhat groggy in a funny kind of way. Funny, because I felt like laughing, I guess. Giggling, even.

I sipped the coffee and looked across the empty town square from my vantage point at the café. The sun would soon rise over the buildings on the far side and bathe the square in seductive summer light. The trees in the centre were in full bloom; a rage of pink and red and I could swear their colours wafted through the air to sashay up my nose.

I was in Grasse, in the south of France, to write an article about the navel of the world's perfume trade. I had been happily sidetracked the night before. A friend was having an extravagant party and I made an appearance at his fancy house overlooking Cannes. Champagne flowed like tap water, bossa nova music rhythmic and erotic and a crowd of beautiful people in the throes of summer.

As if the atmosphere wasn't enough, I ended up dancing with a girl who moved like the stars across the night sky. Dancing all night long. Well, not all night long because, to my amazement, we ended back at her flat and fucked for hours.

Still half-drunk, still groggy, I sat at the café, having only slept 3 hours, and languished luxuriously in the erotic, slow-motion playback of the party and the sex. I lit a cigarette and let the smoke curl sensually, teasingly, up around my face. Its scent sharp and wicked but it worked its magic and added a delicate balance to the flowers, the coffee and the sunlight. Yes, I was sure I could smell the sunlight. You can smell sunlight when you've gotten laid for the first time in months and by a nubile French girl in her early twenties.

"You work too hard", I mumbled to myself. Always travelling, sitting in hotel bars, staying up all night to meet deadlines. At 38, I was successful but I was forgetting to enjoy life. And when a nubile French girl in her early twenties finds you attractive, despite your little beer belly, greying hair and a body that is generally going to the dogs, you begin to take stock of your life. If I were more fit, I could get more pussy. Hangover logic.

I shifted in my seat, my dick still damp it seemed, and I readjusted it in my shorts. I was the only customer so it didn't matter. But as I shifted, it hit me square on the nose. The aroma of my crotch wafted up and waltzed up my nostrils.

It was greasy, salty, sweet and pungent – all at once. More than anything, it was her. From last night. Still lingering on my body. I felt guilty but deliciously naughty. The mere thought of having to take a bath and removing her scent was an irritation. I reached up the leg of my shorts, grabbed my cock, rubbed it a bit, and withdrew my hand. My fingers went up to my nose and the scent of my cum and sweat mixed with her cum and sweat was the most glorious perfume I could have ever imagined.

I didn't see her coming. She stopped abruptly in front of the café. Her head tilted back haughtily and it jerked slightly, changing angles as her nostrils flared. I realised I was sitting there with my fingers half up my nose so I quickly wrapped them around the glass of coffee. What was she doing?

I appraised her quickly. Japanese, petite, sad yet inquisitive eyes. A long black summer dress of an impossibly thin material. She was clutching a tattered notebook against her breasts. I couldn't help but look at her. She was, after all, standing right in front of me, acting odd. Sniffing... that must be it. She was sniffing the air.

Without warning, she turned her head to me. Fixing my bewildered eyes with her intense, curious stare. I was uncomfortable to say the least. She sniffed a couple of times in my direction and I decided that a bath maybe was a good idea. The foam on my coffee suddenly became fascinating and I concentrated on it.

She approached me. What I'd have given for a can of deodorant right then. Her voice was soft and sweet - a contrast to her straightforward glare. A pleasant lilting blend of Japanese and French when she spoke English.

"Please. I am sorry. I have noticed.... how do you say... I am perfume designer, yes? I make scents and aromas.... I... uh..."

Two sharp, short sniffs again. She stepped closer. I could see she was just as embarrassed, which was a relief.

"I have noticed your scent. It intrigues me."

"Well... uh... I was just on my way up to take a bath..."

I took a big slurp of my coffee, burning my tongue to a crisp but trying to act normal and fidget about as though I was, indeed, just about to get up to leave.

"No. Wait."

She sat down beside me, her hands holding her notebook demurely in her lap. Her head cocked in my direction. Her dark, shoulder-length hair blowing gently on the breeze. She closed her eyes and began inhaling deeply through the nose and exhaling through the mouth and seemingly tasting the scent as it passed over her tongue.

Up close and nasal she was lovely. Angelic. Too innocent and pure to be sniffing strange tourists in a café. She radiated a scent of sweetness and pureness. So vague, so indefinable that I doubted she existed.

Her eyes shot open. "It's perfect. Your aroma."

"My what...?"

"I must inhale you."

Caught me off-guard, that one. Definitely the most interesting line I've ever heard. I wondered if something was lost in translation – from Japanese to French before ending up kinky in English. At least she didn't say 'impale'.

"I... uh... don't know what you mean..."

"Quickly. You have a room nearby, no?"

"Yes, but..."

"Lead me there."

She stood up. Ready to go. Her eyes narrowed intensely, nostrils flared again. She didn't give me any choice. I was curious, even though this was all a bit bizarre. However, being still half-drunk and groggy and, as is inevitable in such a state, horny, I rose to my feet.

We walked to my hotel around the corner in silence. I noticed that when we passed someone else on the street, even if they were on the opposite sidewalk, she would cock her head and sniff at them.

Up into my room we went. I was unsure about this, but thought 'what the hell'.

She stood in my little hotel room without even noticing the mess that was embarrassing to me.

"This is strange, no? But it is necessary, please. I must catalogue your scent. It is perfect. Take off your clothes and lie down."

There was something erotic in the total absence of erotica in her voice. She was like a school nurse who had to inject a needle into your ass. But her eyes were now wider and they seemed to betray her clinical interests in my "scent". But what did I know, I still had champagne dancing tango on my brain.

I started to remove my shirt, followed by my shorts and underwear. As I did so, she sniffed around my room, picking up shirts and hairbrushes and taking quick whiffs. I cleared my throat.

She turned to me, well not to me, but to my crotch. My long cock was as curious as I was and it had groggily woken up, flying at half-mast. Sloping away from my body and eager to rise.

"Yes." That's all she said as she regarded my cock and crotch. She waved her hand impatiently and I lay down, watching her approach. The thin fabric of her dress was no match for the nipples that crowned her pert breasts. Her chest rose and fell with each deep inhalation, causing her breasts to thrust out and her nipples to harden even more.

She tossed her notebook onto a chair and came at me with all the prowess of a lioness. She hadn't taken her eyes off my cock and the combination of her lovely, slim body, her sweet, angelic face and the attention she paid to my most private area was too much for me. Wham - my cock filled with warm blood and was soon very, very erect.

Her mouth opened slightly and she dropped to her knees between my legs. I propped myself up on my elbows to watch her. She was in another zone, completely engrossed by my scent. I could have used a bit of eye contact, but to her I was an invisible smell. With a very large, rock-hard cock.

"You have fucked, no?" In saying the word, her lower lip sucked into her mouth and was thrust out on a rush of air 'FFFFF-ucked'. I liked the way she said it. Like she was tasting the word for the first time.

"Yes."

"How long ago? Important."

"Um... 5 hours?"

"Mmm. Tell me about her."

"Um, okay.... French...."

"Blonde."

"Uh, yeah.... how did you...?" Nevermind, she wasn't going to tell me. "Blonde, slim, athletic body – a tennis body, as opposed to a swimming body, you know? Uh... "

My little Japanese perfume expert's nose was very close to my cock and balls now. Her nose brushed against the hairs on my heavy, cum-filled balls like a whisper. My cock twitched, knowing nothing of that poetry. When she spoke, her voice resonated into the base of my cock.

"She is in her early twenties. Exquisite. She wore Infinity perfume... only a little – too much would ruin the aroma... she washed her clothes in Arial Ultra... she had eaten garlic with... tomatoes and... chicken... she drank red wine but mostly champagne... she had a shaved cunt.... no?"

I was amazed. While waiting for my reply to her 'no?' she flattened her nostrils against the base of my cock and with one long inhalation, rubbed her nose up the entire length of my shaft. I threw my head back with a gasp.

"Yes, a shaved cunt, yes... so smooth..."

"Her sweat. There is more of it if her cunt is shaved, you see... more pungent... in the short term. But with hair, the smell... how do you say... lingers?"

But then she stood up abruptly. "No. I can't smell all of it."

She reached down and grabbed the hem of her long dress and pulled it up over her head in one fluent movement. "I can smell the detergent, you see... I need to be pure to inhale. To catalogue it." She was wearing little see-through nylon knickers and she stepped out of them, tossing them onto the bed.

Fine by me. Who was I to stand in the way of olfactory science. I saw now her pert, firm breasts and glanced down her slim, flat tummy to her cunt. Bikini-trimmed, but with a forest of hair in the middle. Not to my taste, normally, but now it was divine.


Back on her knees again. One hand on either side of my hips, her breasts now pressing hard against my balls, her nipples bullets against my skin, her nose back on the scent. Sniffing deeply all around my cock and pubic hair. Each slow exhalation stimulated every nerve ending from the neck down. A pure 'blow'job.

"You penetrated her asshole.... yes... no... not with your hard cock, but with a finger. Then you touched yourself... often... I can smell her asshole.... so sharp, so musky.... mmm..."

That 'mmm' was almost enough to send me over the edge. Her breasts were flattened against my balls and I involuntarily pushed my hips up to increase the pressure. She didn't comment, she only let more of her body weight force onto me. Her long hair danced across my lower body as her head sought out the scent.

"I can smell her wet cum on your cock. You came inside of her and... no... she didn't cum..."

She crawled up my body, sniffing the whole way; my stomach, chest, nipples, armpits, neck, chin, ears, hair and finally my mouth.

"She came here. She came on your face... on your tongue. My mouth was open and I was trying not to breathe hard. Trying to be cool. When she said, "...your tongue", my tongue responded and appeared on my bottom lip. She sniffed at it. "Yes... on your tongue..."

Her own tongue slipped out to flick at mine. I desperately wanted to kiss her, but her delicate nose was fascinating. She then suckled gently on my tongue.

"Mmm, you made her little hole wet and you made her cum... no?"

I nodded dumbly. Because of the eroticism of her words but mostly because I was achingly aware that she was now astride me. Her tight little cunt was dangerously positioned over my towering cockhead. When my cock made contact with her labia, she squealed and squirmed on my tongue but then raised her hips away.

"Please, we mustn't violate the aroma with my cunt. Not yet..."

She slid down my body, still sniffing like a hound and my cock was pressed between us and the friction was fantastic. She stood up again. No, was she going to disappoint me? She said ' not yet', didn't she?

She went over to her tattered notebook and opened it. She took out a little freezer bag and out of that she removed a square of white silk and unfolded it. I was watching her. Absorbing her body, seeing her pussy hair glisten in the sunlight lazily playing through the window. Seeing her nipples cast shadows across her breasts. She wasn't so clinical after all. She was aroused. It was strange for my male ego to think that it wasn't me, or my humour, or my charm but merely the smell of my cock that attracted her to me. But I got over that quickly, believe me.

She knelt down again, holding the white silk. She mumbled scientifically and erotically to me as she gently lifted my cock between two fingers and proceeded to wrap it in the white silk. It felt cool to the touch against my searing hot cock. And it felt like I was buried deep inside heaven.

"This is perfect... such a perfect aroma, no? Such an exquisite cocktail. Young, fertile girl, so healthy, so pure and a man... a real man... late 30's, no?... fucking her, cumming inside of her... sweat from his balls and ass, sweat from her labia and ass.... perfect.... you see, I am making perfumes... designing them... these smells are the purest form of sex.... I have to catalogue them. Make perfumes out of them..."

All the while she was "cataloguing". She was taking a sample. She was rubbing the white silk hard against my cock. Gripping it hard to get all the aroma she could off of it. I could do nothing but throw my head back, thrust my hips up to her and groan loudly.

"Perfect... your cock must be hard, no? Testosterone oozing out of it... and your balls..."

She jacked my cock and then slid the white silk down to my balls, encompassing them in silk and rubbing them gently, squeezing them. With a finger, she slid a corner of the silk down to the sweat between my balls and asshole, soaking up my fluids and my aroma and... oh god... and rubbing it in circles around my tight hole, almost going in, exerting almost enough pressure... but then withdrawing.

She stood up again, leaving me humping the air and gasping.

With meticulous clinical precision she placed the silk in the bag and sealed it. Catalogued.

It looked like she was through. Goddammit, she couldn't leave me here like this....

She glanced back to me, to the sight of my hips still gyrating in the air, to my wide, pleading eyes.

"Ah, yes...." As though remembering an errand.

She grabbed my cock with one small hand, firmly, a little roughly, and held it upright. Still standing up, she bent over and took my bulbous, engorged cockhead between her lips. Sucking it deeply in with concave cheeks until I felt the back of her throat. She bobbed her head slowly up and down, her nostrils flared wide, savouring the smell and the taste.

My cocked popped out. "She tastes good, too, this girl." A little, kinky smile. Working hours were over, now it was time for something else.

She climbed onto the bed and in a quick motion, she turned and straddled my head, still holding my cock. I looked up at her puckered asshole between those firm ass cheeks and at her tight little cunt hovering above my face. Her labia were filled with blood and they protruded rudely from her nest of hair, her pink insides clearly visible. I inhaled her cunt scent.

With a sudden movement, she sat down on my face and my mouth was filled with cunt. I sucked wildly and my nose was positioned right on her ass, so that with every inhalation I sucked in the musky aroma of her asshole. She rode my face upright, a hand still on my cock but only as though she needed it to hold on to. It throbbed against her tight fingers.

I found her clit and alternated between it and her tight fuckhole. Her hips started to gyrate on my face and I felt her copious fluids ooze down to saturate my chin and neck. She was turned on – no doubt by the aroma and her passion for scents, and she soon began to jabber incoherently in Japanese. Smooth, flowing sentences spiced with rhythmic vowel sounds and high-pitched squeals. She forced her cunt onto my tongue and came hard on my face, rubbing and rocking back and forth.

When she came to, she lazily climbed off and repositioned herself. Swivelling around and straddling my angry, hungry cock. She still held it firm as she probed roughly for the entrance to her cunt. Finding it, feeling my cockhead slip into the cleft at her entrance, she grunted once and shoved her ass downwards. When my long, thick cock only penetrated her halfway, she rose up and grunted impatiently and slammed down hard. This time, my cock was rammed home. To the hilt. I felt it slam into the nether reaches of her fiery cunt and expand her tight, silken walls. And she was tight. So tight. That slim frame was now impaled on my cock. We lay there for a moment, daring not to breathe, revelling in the sensations coursing through our nerves.

Then she tilted forward so that her cunt rode up to the head of my cock, without releasing it. She propped herself up on her hands and squatted on her legs so that the only part of our bodies that were touching were cock and cunt.

I looked down to see her fragile Asian body perched precariously on the tip of my cock. She looked at me and smiled a little smile.

"You can fuck me now, no?"

No reply, only the sensation of my hips flying upwards, slamming my cock inside of her. She kept that smile on her lips and closed her eyes, squealing with every thrust. I held her ankles and kept slamming upwards until my cock was a blur as it flew in and out of her impossibly tight hole. Groans and moans flowing freely from my mouth.

When my groans changed pitch, she opened her eyes to look at me, knowing that I would soon cum. Picking her moment with perfect timing – just as my hips thrust up one last time and I felt my hot seed rising up my shaft – she sat up and slammed down on my cock, forcing my hips onto the bed. She rocked back and forth as I started to splatter her silken hole with ropes of cum, milking my cock. I groaned a long, endless groan of pure pleasure.

When my hips stopped bucking wildly and my body went limp, she gently crawled off. My cock slipping out of her with a sucking sound and a plop onto my stomach, leaving me gasping for air.

When I gathered the strength to open my eyes, she was fully dressed, holding her notebook against her chest. She bowed slightly.

"Thank you for your aroma. I am most grateful. Now I must work."

With that, she was gone, leaving me wrecked and used on the bed. I looked down and saw her knickers in a puddle of fabric next to me. I raised them up to my nose and inhaled the aroma of her sex.