“I want to feel intoxicated from inhaling the scent of you.”― Truth Devour
He is in the bathroom. We are packing up, getting ready to leave and head our separate ways after spending a perfectly delightful night together.
“Did you just put on your cologne” I ask
“Yes and how do you know that?” he replies, still in the bathroom. The door is not shut but it slightly pulled to
“Umm, I can smell it?”
There is a pause and then he appears on the other side of the room clutching the bottle of cologne, his work shirt on but only partially done up. He looks, well let’s just say if I thought we had time I would have closed the distance between us and been on my knees in front of him.
“How can you smell it all the over there when I only just sprayed it?” he asks
“I have a really strong sense of smell I guess. My kids seem to think I have some sort of smell powers”
“Ahhh a witch thing” He chuckles as he continues to pack up his stuff. He is of the opinion that I am some sort of witch and who knows maybe he is right.
“I have a request”
“Sure” he says, looking across at me, “Although if it is you want me to fuck you again I can’t. You’ve already had everything I got”
“Shame” I say grinning at him “Actually can I have some of your cologne”
He seems surprised but hands me the bottle. It feels like treasure in my hand and I turn the nozzle towards me and spray my chest with it. Then I turn to my case and spray my jumper that is in there before finally adorning my coat with the scent too.
“Now I can keep you with me, well the smell of you with me for longer than when I take my next shower.”
“That’s sweet,” he says as I hand the bottle back and I smile. It is nice that he thinks he is sweet and I guess in many ways it is. It is definitely testament to my lusty desire for him but in my mind it is not sweet so much as it is dirty. I want the smell so that when I bring that jumper to my face I will be able to close my eyes and remember how he felt with his cock buried in my cunt. How his scent filled my nostrils as I trailed my mouth down his chest and across his stomach. I want to be able to breath in his aroma and touch myself.
Later that week whilst out in my car I would catch the scent of him on my coat and my cunt would twitch in response. That smell, his smell, it creates like a Pavlovian response but it is not my mouth that waters. I can smell his scent, close my eyes and the memory it inspires is so rich and alive that I can almost feel it, taste it, smell it, him, us. It makes me growl with need and longing and spraying his cologne on my jumper means I get to keep that pleasure with me for a little bit longer.
I am the woman you see in the perfume department of shops and airports (remember those places pre-covid) texting her partner to be reminded of the name of the scent he wore so that she can spray herself with some and spend the rest of the day being surrounded by a smell that reminds of the filthy sex they had.
Sadly it never smells quite the same because what it really needs is the mixture of him and his cologne together but it is close and it reminds me of him and it makes me happy and horny.
I love smelling of a lover. Smell, scents are a massive thing for me. it doesn’t have to be cologne either, a persons natural scent can be just as powerful but when there is that mixture, them and their cologne, how those scents mingle and combine. Fuck that is so my thing.
I will often look at someone I fancy and think, I wonder what you smell like. It is the thing I want to know, quickly followed by, I wonder what you kiss like, taste like, feel like but what they smell like, that is always the thing that will cross my mind first.
One of my favourite things is that moment when you are kissing and then your mouth slides to their neck and you start to unbutton their shirt and you breathe in, breathe them in and their scent fills your nose and fuck they smell so damn good. I want to roll in that scent. I want them to make me smell of them. I want to nestle my nose into their groin, by the base of their cock and inhale them. The only thing better than that is smelling them after they have fucked me because then they smell of them and of me. A cock that smells of us is best sex smell of all.
When it comes to sex smells it is not just my partners scent I get off on but mine too. I have written before about how I love the smell of my cunt and having a good sniff of my knickers at the end of the day. If I have been masturbating I love being able to smell myself on my fingers and will often drift off to sleep at night breathing in the scent of my cum from my fingers. I smell good when I have been fucked and I smell fucking amazing when someone has come in me. I love smelling like sex, the combination of my smells and his all mingled together. Falling asleep surrounded by that and then waking up to it the next day. That totally does it for me.
How someone smells is such an important thing for me that as well as being a huge turn on it can also be a massive turn off. That, I guess, is the down side of having a very heighten sense of smell. It is something I have said to many partners before having sex with them. What if we don’t like the way each other smells? Their responses have always been varied but it was through those conversations that I realised most people don’t have to sniff a person before being sure they want to get it on with them. That is maybe a bit of an exaggeration. I don’t go round sniffing people but someone’s scent is a powerful thing to me and there have been occasions in the past when it has been the thing that put me off. I don’t even know why, it was not that they smelt bad they just didn’t smell right.
The quote at the top of this piece really captures how I feel about a lovers scent. Their smell is such a powerful aphrodisiac to me. Whether it be a cologne I associate with them, their natural body odor or usually, ideally in fact the heady combination of both mixed together. I want to smell them and smell of them. Smelling of them, that is the best way to be. That only happens when they have touched me, fucked me, used me. Then I am marked by their scent. Then I smell like my very best self.
Currently the only smells I have of a lover is from an old t-shirt of his. Despite having washed it a few times now I can still smell him in the fabric when I wear it. Not as strong as I used to be able to but it is still there, especially when it warms up against my skin. Then I can bring the emerald fabric up to my nose, and if I close my eyes and breath in for a brief but blissful moment, there he is…