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“I caught Helen sniffing your underwear.” I was flabbergasted, Helen of all people?
“Perhaps she was just seeing if it was dirty washing.” I said in trying to find a feasible explanation, I mean, well women don’t do that do they, dirty old men yes – and younger – but women? And women like Helen!?”
I don’t think so,” my flat mate John advised, “the way she rubbed your boxer shorts into her face, the way she looked, not realising I was watching, standing in the doorway waiting for the postman to come, and that dull moan. She fancies you7 and that’s a cert.” John added.
The thought of Helen doing that was almost unbelievable. She always seemed so prim and proper. A small woman, but not an unattractive figure for her age which I reckoned to be in her very early forties. With me just 38 I felt comfortable with that. I was free of any relationship and wanted to out that to rights, but it had to be with the right woman, and Helen maybe would be her. I decided to give it a test, see how she reacted for myself.
I wore a pair of black boxers on and off for the next two days, to get them well scented, then placed them in the laundry basket in the hall. I made sure they were easily seen and near the top and, knowing the time roughly she got up and made for the shared bathroom nearby, that would be the most likely time to see what she was getting up too.
I felt like a spy watching from the slightly opened door into the hallway which accessed three flats, ours, Helens and a coloured guy who lived next door..
I just had to see for myself if it was true, that John wasn’t just having me on – he is known for his practical tricks – and this was a herd story indeed to believe.
“It is about 7.30 I say her go to the bathroom and open the laundry basket outside, the laundry people always collect about 8am, Pete.”
“Okay I’ll be ready, this I must see, if it’s true that is!”
“It’s true alright, she has a thing for you, that has never happened to me – well not as far as I know anyway.”
“Perhaps it is just the way I smell, sweetness and perfection,” I laughed. I told John how I’d worm my boxers for two days, that they would be walking away on their own if I’d left them much longer!” He laughed and said he could believe that! Cheeky bugger.
But do you know what? There was something really erotic about the idea of Helen of all people messing with my underwear and – waiting there, with my door slightly ajar, peering through the opening as my watch registered 7.30 I could not help but feel an arousal. And my thoughts of Helen were active again.
Until now, I’d never thought of her as a prospective fuck, I guess I’d hardly noticed her really, we hardly bumped into each other, her leaving and arriving at different times to me. And yet she must know me to do what she was doing, surely?
All the questions going on in my mind and then the lowering thought that perhaps this woman simply had a bazaar fantasy derived from sniffing men’s under things. I just could not believe even then that she would want to sniff mine, knowing they belonged to me.
But sure enough, I heard her open her door and close it again as she made for the exit door.
Bloody John has been taking the piss, I knew it I said to myself as Helen passed by the laundry basket not even noticing.
But then, almost as if she had second thoughts, she stopped, looked around quickly and went for the basket, opening the lid and scurried inside. I actually saw her sniffing my two days worn boxers, and enjoying! Just like John said, her eyes half closed, rubbing them briskly into her face.
I just could not let this pass, while she was in her trance I slipped behind her and slapped that well proportioned rear which fitted so snugly in her tight black skirt. She twisted around in a frenzied panic and slapped my face hard!
“What the hell are you doing, Mr!” She yelled, her face flushed, and looking very embarrassed, dropping my underwear on the floor, attempting to pick it up and hide beneath her jumper.
But, bending down, I was there first, grabbed them, asking are these what you are looking for?”
She looked sideways at me, sort of hesitated nervously saying that she had lost a pair of hers, and was just checking to see if they were in the dirty casino oyna laundry basket.
I could see her dilemma, she was in a bit of an awkward situation and I didn’t want to push it, all I said is that they were mine, couldn’t she tell?
She looked at me saying she had no idea.
“But you liked the scent Huh?” I said in a matter of fact way. “You can take them if you want, maybe put under your pillow later.” I had a girl friend who did that.
She then said she must rush she’d be late for work, but that I was sweet and thanks for the offer, then scurrying off she left me holding my undies like a lemon for all to see as she opened the front door and scampered out .
But then it occurred to me I had to get to work too, placed the embarrassing underwear back into the basket and returned to my room for breakfast.
Later John, who always left for work earlier than me, asked if I had caught her at it.
“Yep! Well and truly.” I said coolly. “And?” “And what?” “Tell me what happened then?” I told him and he was laughing, saying what a terribly awkward position for her to have found herself in. I continued that I wouldn’t mind having her in any position! “So you have been aroused by the girl sniffer?” he mused. “Well she’s not to be sniffed at, ” I returned trying to be clever, “and it’s not every day I find someone so delectable sniffing my boxers! “Delectable you say?” John returned – you fancied her then, well they do say we are attracted by chemical make up.” “One problem, John” “What’s that?” ” Is she attracted to me?” “Well she seems scent on your boxers,” he roared – “get it, scent as in odour?” “Don’t give up your day job – and anyway I believe as far as she was concerned they could have been anybody’s – maybe she is just kinky about guys underwear, I can name a few guys who do it with girl’s – their underwear I mean.” “Oh yes?” enquired John inquisitively. “You know, you’ve heard of sad guys who steal women’s underwear from clothes lines.” “But that’s not quite the same is it, Pete – it’s been laundered, yours, they were still garnished with your whatever what.” “Doesn’t make any difference to the sad guys, just the thought they have been worn by a member of the opposite sex does the trick.” “You seem to know all about it, Pete. You done it then?”
Okay well I had, but when I was a teenager, but I wasn’t about to let on to John. I fancied the pants off this woman who lived next door. So I literally stole a pair or two from her line. They certainly gave me a few thrills of a lifetime when I was discovering my sexuality big time.
Thinking of the things I did with them now was unbelievable, yet in a way could it be, or was it wishful thinking, that the laundry sniffer felt the same way. It certainly gave me a kick to think so, that she may be having several orgasms due to something I wore. But it’s different with women isn’t it?, it is more, well you know, emotional, she probably just puts them under her pillow like my ex said she did and dreamt sweet romantic dreams, not doing like I did, wanking myself silly until it was sore.
But more and more in the coming week I thought of this woman , no way would I catch her scrumping the laundry basket that was for certain, but I wanted to see her again, should I just go knock at her door or what, would fate play it’s part in bringing this very horn guy together with this sensuous woman in the tight black skirt with a very scrumptious figure?
“Well I think she fancies the pants off you, Pete” John persisted.
Helen is her name we know that, just from what we have heard and seen passing by in the corridor. Real old fashioned name is that, then there is Helen of Troy I read about in the history books, she was a very determined woman to be sure. Maybe our neighbour is too.
“Well I have never felt the same when removing my dirty boxers at night, I even find myself smelling the things, now is that sick or is that very sick?” “Well to be honest, I guess I do it all the time, just to check if they are clean enough to wear for another day,” John confided.
Enough was enough of the waiting game, I just had to talk to Helen again, but in more comfortable circumstances, I would do the good neighbour bit, knock on her door and ask that if she ever wanted any help, I was her man, canlı casino right?”
She looked at me, half smiled and said I’d better come in and she’d make a coffee. Wow! I was in. It was as easy as that, and all the time there was me thinking that because of what happened she would be reluctant to see me.
I just had a feeling in my bones that she was eager to talk to me, perhaps to iron out her idiosyncrasies as one may call them.
“I’ll come clean,” she said, her eyes sparkling like she was real pleased to see me. She looked good placing herself neatly on the easy chair opposite, looking very delicious in her white taffeta skirt just riding above her shapely knees.
“It’s all to do with my Ex you see erm – Pete isn’t it, can I call you Pete or would you prefer Peter?” “Pete is fine.” “Dave, my ex, was killed on armed service in Afghanistan. I miss him still after two years, well he wore Brut you see.” It all started to come together, I used Brut every day, was rather lavish with it – it had that compelling smell about it, not meaning to sound like a commercial. “Sorry?” “No need to be, I am proud of him and he will always be in my thoughts, and breathing in that certain tang on what turned out to be your clothing, brought back memories.” Then my ego was instantly deflated. It was just the scent that attracted her, and the scent of Brut – not me apparently. But all was not lost…
“I’d passed by the laundry basket for three mornings and got the scent – and when I discovered from where it came I just could not help doing what I did, it brought back all those wonderful enduring and sensual memories of Dave.”
I sat there not quite knowing what to say. It seemed quite a viable explanation of something which at first seemed quite bazaar.
But then :- “And it isn’t just the Brut, Pete” she continued as if sussing what was in my mind. “Don’t you see it was you too, the scent of man if you like, combined with the Brut, I do love it so and yours is so much like how I remember Dave’s to be.”
She sort of raised her head and sniffed the air, like she was trying to elaborate. Then I saw that her eyes were looking down at me, that certain look about her expression I had noticed when I caught her sniffing my boxers.
Then something happened that was so bazaar it seemed untrue. Helen went down on her knees facing me, her eyes searching mine, her nostrils stirring as she sniffed in the air as it were.
“I can smell it now, Pete” then she continued to breath in with long slow variations, moving her head one way then the other, like she was a dog scenting the air. I felt rather aroused in a funny sort of a way and no doubt she realised , her eyes meeting mine in such a questioning way.
“May I, Pete, do you mind?”
At that time she seemed like a different woman, so bold and sure f her self, of her actions. But it was the simple effect the scent had on her apparently she told me later. One thing for sure, I wasn’t complaining.
Feeling her touch the zip fastener on my chino’s was a delight to behold, but when, as if it was the most natural thing for a woman to do on a first encounter, she started to very, very slowly unzip me the effort to hold back my arousal was a hopeless task.
Just half opened she sniffed me more, her eyes closing as she whispered how much she loved the scent of man complimented by Brut and how simply wonderful it made her feel, she asked me if it was alright for her to do more, that she so wanted that, and that she thought I was a wonderful guy.
I was so emerged in her activity that nothing else at all mattered, only the sensation of being with this new woman in my life who was doing things to me no other woman had ventured – not like that anyway She moaned with delight and soon started to get carried away, her busy fingers edging gently inside my Chino’s, then opening them wide as I lifted my hind so that she could slip them down behind, so that she could gain the access she obviously desired of me. For the next few minutes therefore I was pampered and teased and yes, sniffed everywhere and she said then she could sense the full scent of me. When I found the way with words, still feeling the touch of her face pressing into my there, I just released the passion of my thoughts, hopefully steering the kaçak casino way for a lot more sensual exchange with the use of those expressions many of us like to use when we are emerged in the sheer heat of what being with a woman is all about, to let it all go and enjoy.
“I so want your fuck!” There I’d said it! _ How would this prim and proper woman react? Her head immersed into my crutch she did not look so prim then
“You will have it I promise, ” she said sweetly as she came u for breath “but Pete, do let me have more of you first, I adore the taste and smell of prime cock, you are so much like how Dave was, your scent, your nectar – attitude, everything, but you are still enough of yourself to be different, I don’t want you to think from the start, that I am simply living in the past and have not feelings for you. – I do, so very much, and I have often noticed you hereabouts hoping we would have the chance to meet properly.” Then she continued to sniff again, I watched the lust in her eyes, I was beating so very strong now, there was something about her sniffing action that really aroused me more than anything I had known before.
“May I?” she asked – her fingers delicately starting to stretch me back, delighting with the hidden scent emerging as she saw my nod of approval and stretched it fully back.
“It is so wonderful,” she complimented, so gorgeously plum red, I shall call it my plum with the delightful aperture in the middle. Baby, now I have your scent in my lungs, in my being may I now have the taste of you?”
I was having a wonderful time, my cock beating full time now, feeling her lift my balls gently teasing with her tongue as then her mouth opened and I just knew she was going for it. Just the wonderfully sensual sight of her head bobbing up and down, me feeling like a King having been pampered so much, fist the feel of her face embedded in my groin, and now the feel of her mouth taking my cock like a natural, her moans expressing just how much she was enjoying. I wanted to tell her how much I enjoyed, I said how wonderful it was the things she was doing to me.
She loved to suck cock that was only too evident, now I wanted her so badly, I wanted to get into that tight white skirt and enjoy her secrets underneath, I asked her for that, the sniffing idea had impressed because I asked if I could sniff her, under her skirt and lifting herself from me with a gasp, she stood, open her thighs and beckoned for me to lay flat on the floor, and she would see what she could do…
I then realised just what I had been missing – she taught me how to simply enjoy the aroma of woman in her prime, like she was on heat, and she was, all her actions demonstrated that, the way she moved and wiggled lowering herself and nesting over me so I could both take in her nectar, and the wonderful thrill of being there, beneath her skirt, seeing her fine silk underwear, her lowering and opening as she crouched – touching my face now with her femininity, soon I soaking in her love juice, tasting and sniffing her through her silk panties – she undoing a bow at the side so they came away, and I was treated to wonderful warm and wet pussy, I felt I could have lavished her like that all day but now she was squeezing and taunting me, whispering hw she needed my fuck, manoeuvring herself downward until she crouched over my throbbing erection, with the taste of her still rampant in my mouth I now started to feel her pussy take my cock deep into her, feeling her fuck as she wiggled from side to side and twisted and turned, like and animal she was, her cry for more of my deep throbbing fuck until we both moved and worked to the Waterloo, and we both climaxed so strong it was like a Volcano exploding, our love fluids spurting out and then we fucked and fucked more, reaching her second orgasm, another one of many we would have as the afternoon changed to evening, and we were both absolutely exhausted.
Now it has become part of our relationship, that I leave a pair of my used boxers shorts accidentally on purpose on the end of the bed for her to enjoy on her return from work later She started earlier than me but finished earlier too,
I realised just how the scenting as we came to call it was so important. And it was not unusual, when I opened my sandwich box at work, to find a pair of moist red oir black thongs neatly placed prudently in a plastic bag.
Our relationship blossomed. The sweetness of her idiosyncrasies matched mine and we were made for each other forever.
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