Your scent…

“Is it wrong that when I think of you, I think of your cunt? And I will say, with little trepidation, I think of it often.”

“Tell me more”

“I was curious when you texted to meet here. It was very —”

“No. Tell me more about my cunt; tell me why you think of my cunt.”

“Oh — I really don’t know why I said that. It was rude.”

‘Well, you did, so go on.”

“Your smell, it’s the smell of your cunt. Your perfume is always wonderful but all I can smell is the musky sour scent of your cunt; it seems to permeate from every pore as if they’re connected directly in some way. Sometimes it’s subtle, and sometimes it’s overwhelming.”

“And now?”

“It’s intoxicating — maybe that’s why I so rudely brought it up. I admit I like when you haven’t shaved for a while; your cunt becomes feral in a way, and your scent seems stronger. I imagine that you were wet before you sat down; I can smell it all over you.”

“Good guess. Please continue”

“I like the way your cunt shapes my cock. As you know, I’m always hard for you but when your ride me, you contract your cunt in a way that moulds my cock to the shape of your cunt; I get longer and thicker. You inevitably tell me it fits perfectly and grind until you cum.”

“Yes. I do like doing that. You always cum very hard for me when I’ve had my way. Should I just assume you like how it tastes?”

“You already know I do.”

“True. But I want to hear you tell me.”

“I like how my tongue can tease your cunt to give me it’s juices — I will drink from you until you force me to stop but I like to coax you to give me more. I work very hard to make you squirt.”

“Hmmmm. Shall we have another drink?”

“It is date night after all. Besides, I want to see how long it takes before one of us suggests we make our way discretely to the restroom and fuck our brains out like animals.”

“Oh sweetie, you will cave way before I do.”

W