Scent from Strange Taste

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: General Erotica  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group

Featured Review on this writing by kalelthemith

‘Pull off my g-string!’

Strange Taste - from Basque out now on Amazon

Scent:

The daring lingerie by Ann Summers suited Georgie’s needs perfectly, freeing the siren in her. Thrilled by her sensual transformation, she dabbed some scent behind her ears, left the bathroom, and padded to the open door. He was waiting for her on the bed, a puma about to pounce, staring at the spider’s webs on the ceiling. He heard her whisper, softly,

‘Close your eyes.’

Feeling her presence, he shut his eyes, his heart pumping wildly for her. She set him free,

‘You can open them now.’

He gazed at Georgie in awe of her: his Aphrodite, goddess of love, an angel come to save his lonely soul. She stood at the foot of the bed, beaming at him, dressed in just a g-string. He didn’t know what to do with her at first. Her behaviour was daring. Her love, her tactile touch, intoxicated him, suffocating him, making it hard for him to breathe, smell, touch, taste. He climbed off the bed, his senses returning, smelling the animal scent on her. They lost all self-control,

‘Georgie…’

‘Kiss me, touch me, love me.’

He seized her, pushing the soft hair off her face, forcing her head back, hard, so that he could kiss her deeply, feeling no resistance. She spat out his tongue, freeing her mouth from his love-leech, his overt oral intrusion, imploring him instead to explore her body. He indulged her, leaving a trail of molten kiss down her neck and chest, alighting on her swollen breasts, cupping them in his hands, kneading them as he sucked her shiny nipples erect, a bloodthirsty vampire, ravenous for her love. She purred, her cat’s paws clawing at the hairy small of his back, slashing his skin, loving the lick-spit she felt trickle down her stomach, probing her deep navel, the wet slop of her man’s tongue slathering over her belly, as he ambled ever downwards,

‘Pull off my g-string!’

Not: please, would you take off my g-string? Or: would you mind taking off my g-string? But pull it off! She thrilled as he tore off her string, unbinding her, untying her scorched lust. Felt his coarse fingers grip her soft buttocks. Felt him lick her wet cleft. Went weak at the knees,

‘Lie down!’

‘Georgie, I…!’

Before he could finish, she shoved him in the chest, forcing him to fall back onto the bed. He lay momentarily winded, stupefied by Georgie’s sexual bravado, happy for her to take control. His proud flesh reared, straining for her as she squatted over him, facing the other way, back to his, astounding him with her salacious, sexy, daring, her loving practicality,

‘Keep still while I slip you inside me.’

‘Georgie!’

She felt his hands caress her hips. Felt highly aroused if truth be told!

‘Mm?’

‘I’m not wearing a ...’

‘Don’t need to.’

‘Why not?’

‘I’m safe.’

He shook his head. She mounted him, reclining, her buttocks pressing into his hairy belly, her slender back hugging his chest. His face was smothered in sweat. She sealed his mouth with a kiss. Their lips parted. He felt her breath warm his cheek,

‘Hold me!’ she pleaded.

He fondled her heaving breasts, then gently slid his palm over her tummy, massaging her soft, hairy mound with his fingertips. She arched her body upwards...

After, Georgie lay on her side facing him, loving his tenderness, the feeling of being held in his burly arms, her deep calm: the aftermath of their lovemaking. She was crying. He kissed away her tears. She read his thoughts, softly kissing him back, saying in a whisper,

‘I’m crying because you made me so happy.’

At first, he was lost for words. When he did speak, his voice was choked with emotion,

‘You’re all I have, Georgie. I love you.’

He burst into tears, crying on her shoulder. She held him to her breasts, stroking his damp cheeks, consoling him, conscious of the colossal risk she had taken: the cap, lying unused in the hand basin, her endless quest for certainty in life,

‘That’s right, sweetest,’ she soothed, ‘Let it all out. Tell me. Why are you so unhappy?’

He remembered the toadstools, the deadly concoction in his fridge, and stopped crying.


Submitted: June 25, 2021

© Copyright 2021 hjfurl. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:

Comments

kalelthemith

Not sure how I feel about the mushroom reference, was she evoked by them?
Great use of the English language.

Sat, June 26th, 2021 7:24am

Author
Reply

Hello and Thank You kalelthemith,

I am sorry for the confusing reference to (magic) mushrooms! They come up later! So, again does he! Serious apologies, I am trying to promote Basque- Love Stories (rules are there to be broken!) Scent is an extract from Strange Taste one of the 21 stories in the book. I can only hope you enjoyed the g-string!

Best Wishes
HJ x

Sat, June 26th, 2021 12:52am

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