i miss the smell of man.
that beautiful musky intoxicating scent of the man you love after he’s been working and sweating all day and it’s just before he sits down to rest and the sweat hasn’t cooled on his body.
i could drown in that smell.
if they made it into a cologne i would bathe in it.
i would stay at home with my butterfly and a dildo i haven’t found yet and drown myself in eau de man who’s been working all day.
i would imagine his hot, sweaty body under my hands and his callused hands tickling and scratching my skin as he stroked me to shivers and goose bumps.
there would be soft sighs and little gasps in the back of my throat as i imagined such a man envelopping me after my own working day. the two of us covered in each other’s sweat and building a musk made of ourselves.
the kind of sex you can only have with someone you’re married to or deeply connected with. the kind where you’re both filthy and sweaty and wet and you take each other ruthlessly and hard.
growling and nipping and shuddering we would claim each other and leave each other soaked in our respective scents. the kind of scent you almost can’t wash off. the kind that proclaims to the world that you ain’t lookin’ cause you got paradise at home.
i miss the smell of a man.
that smell some men get just before they go to sleep where you could almost swear you know what their mother smelled when she tucked them in at night. the one that’s almost downy and rendered even sweeter when you’ve mixed your personal fluids together a long heart stopping beat before.
i miss the smell of my man.
that scent that wafts into your nose as you lick and nibble and tease your way along his collarbone or his throat or any long crest of his body.
that particular essence that would pick this man out of a crowd of thousands if you were blindfolded, but only if you got to put your nose right into the crook of his elbow.
the spots that even directly after showering will retain a tiny hint of what came before and tease you with salty sweetness and love.
i miss the smell of me all over my man.
the one you get when you’ve stayed in bed together all day and you’ve licked and sucked and fucked every inch of each other you can find.
that beautiful musk that eventually gets so overpowering you take it to the shower together.
that taste at the back of your throat that is as unique as a fingerprint for each penis and it’s blending with the scent of my own joy teasing from his nostrils.
that mix of soft and womanly with spicy and manly and a certain je ne sais quoi that belongs only to us together.
the smell where you could swear they’re sweating your scent and you’re sweating theirs. the smell that’s all mixed up in your nose with their taste.
i miss the smell of man.
