The Smell

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Diane Whitaker had come over to JoAnn Chambers’s house for their weekly Saturday afternoon gabfest. They’d been the best of friends since college days, and now, at the age of thirty-two, they were well ensconced in their jobs, their marriages, and their life in general. They had both decided (along with their husbands) to move into a new development outside of Philadelphia, and things were going swimmingly for both.

Both women prided themselves on their appearance. They had these “dressed to kill” pantsuits for the office, but after work they liked to relax and unwind with or without their spouses. Both looked fabulous in bikinis, and both felt their love lives were going great. In fact, part of the friendly rivalry between the two women was comparing notes on how well they could get their husbands to perform in the bedroom–and on occasion they were inclined to exaggerate just a wee bit in terms of their spouse’s physical attainments, endurance, and their own ability to get their men to pay suitable homage to various parts of their bodies.

But mostly they just liked to talk–gossiping about friends, bemoaning the price of gas or groceries (not that they had any reason to complain, since both they and their husbands made good money and had no worries on that score), planning separate or joint vacations, things like that.

Today, though, the conversation took an unusual turn.

Diane was scribbling down a recipe for a chicken cacciatore that JoAnn was sure Duncan (Diane’s husband) would love, since her own husband, Geoffrey, had gobbled it up the last time she had made it. Diane could have typed it into her smartphone, but she liked the tactile sensation of pen and paper, so here she was at Diane’s dining table jotting down both the ingredients and the finer points of the recipe–when her pen ran out of ink.

“Oh, bother!” Diane said. “JoAnn, dear, do you have another pen?”

Without thinking, JoAnn said, “I think there’s one in my purse.” Before the words were out of her mouth, she realized she’d made an appalling mistake.

As Diane got up to look through JoAnn’s purse, resting on an end table next to the sectional sofa in the living room, JoAnn said frantically, “Let me get it for you!”

Diane said over her shoulder, “Never mind, JoAnn, I can get it.”

JoAnn was running around the dining table hoping to get to the purse before her friend did, but it was no use. Diane had too much of a head start, and she’d already opened the clasp of the purse and was fishing around for the pen.

But her interest in that implement vanished when she picked up some dark blue underwear that was lying on top of all manner of other things in the capacious receptable.

Diane chuckled as she looked over to JoAnn. “What’s this for? In case your tampon doesn’t work and you have a little accident?”

JoAnn was looking like a ghost–all the blood had drained out of her face. Should she just lie, or should she brazen it out and tell her friend the truth?

Diane was examining the underwear more carefully. “Gee, this is a bit on the big side. Surely you don’t wear something like this?”

In a frog-like voice JoAnn managed to say, “It–it’s not for me.”

An inkling of the truth was beginning to dawn on Diane. “This is–men’s underwear?”

JoAnn nodded tremblingly.

A broad smile spread over Diane’s face. “Oh, you mean Geoffrey has little accidents from time to time, and he needs a replacement if you guys are away from home?”

There was an awkward silence, as JoAnn failed to respond. It was as if the moment was frozen in time: one woman holding a piece of underwear in her hand, the other staring at it as if it was radioactive.

JoAnn momentarily closed her eyes, then decided to spill the beans. In a voice that could hardly be heard she said, “It–it’s not clean.”

With a little squeal Diane dropped the item to the floor. “Eew! You’re telling me it’s soiled?”

“It’s not soiled. It’s just–used.”

Diane gaped at her friend. “And why, may I ask, do you carry around a used pair of men’s underwear?”

As her face crumpled in a grimace of mortification, she covered her face and managed to say through her fingers, “I like the smell!”

Again there was dead silence as the two women faced each other. After what seemed like an eternity, Diane bent down slowly and picked up the underwear. Staring at it in a kind of daze, she whispered, “I like the smell too.”

JoAnn took her hands away from her face, gaping at the other woman. “You do?” she said incredulously. Then, with a cry of relief: “Oh, God, I thought I was the only one! I felt I was such a pervert, sniffing my husband’s underwear because it turned me on! But don’t you think there’s something–stimulating–about that smell? Don’t you, Diane?”

“I do,” Diane said huskily. And with that, she buried her nose in it.

After several seconds, she seemed to stagger on her feet. “Omigod,” she said, “what an aroma! It’s just a little bit different from Duncan’s, but pretty much the same. Why do cocks smell that way?”

“I ankara moldovyalı escortlar don’t know. They just do,” JoAnn said, as she made her way over to her friend.

Taking the underwear from Diane, she held it to her own nose. A goofy expression appeared on her face, as her tongue hung out lasciviously.

“Jesus,” she said in a low voice. “I–I think I’m getting wet. I always do.”

“Yeah, me too,” Diane said.

The two women looked each other in the face. All kinds of strange ideas were going through their heads.

“Come upstairs,” JoAnn said. “I think there’s another pair in the hamper.”

The friends thundered up the stairs and made their way to the bathroom, where a large wicker hamper lay in one corner of the bathroom. Opening the lid, JoAnn fished through the dirty clothes and, with a flourish of triumph, found another pair of Geoffrey’s underwear and handed it reverently to Diane.

Instinctively, they headed to the master bedroom, where they doffed their shoes and flopped on a king-size bed, each with a pair of used men’s underwear held to their faces. Moans and groans and sighs came out of their mouths as they inhaled the distinctive scent of cock. After a while Diane said:

“Um, JoAnn, dear, do you have a dildo, or a vibrator?”

In a shaky voice JoAnn said, “I have a vibrator. I don’t use it much–don’t need to! Geoffrey services me just about anytime I want. But I think it’s here somewhere.”

As she lay on her stomach, she reached over to one of the nightstands and, opening the top drawer, took out a sleek vibrator and handed it to her friend.

Diane looked at it with a naughty expression. Then she began to undress.

JoAnn at first stared at the other woman, who was peeling off her blouse and skirt, and then–after the slightest pause–her bra and panties. “My God, Diane, you’re so beautiful!”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Diane said. “Let’s see what you got.”

Even though they’d been friends for more than a decade, JoAnn was a little more self-conscious about getting naked in front of Diane–or any woman–than Diane seemed to be. She got up from the bed and stood with her back turned to Diane, slowly undoing the long zipper of her dress and letting it fall to the floor. Then she reached behind herself and unclasped her bra, and then–after a bit of hesitation–peeled off her panties.

Then she turned around.

Diane covered her mouth with her hand. “You’re gorgeous, JoAnn!”

Both women were gorgeous. Diane had a cascade of jet-black hair framing an oval face that had just a hint of the melancholy that you sometimes see in those paintings of pre-Raphaelite women. But her large but firm breasts, flat stomach, round bottom, and large tuft of black fur over her delta made her as succulent a conglomeration of female flesh as any lusty man could want. And JoAnn was not far behind. Beneath her auburn her was a round face with delicate features, and below that were smallish but exquisitely shaped breasts, an achingly cute little mound over her stomach, and a luscious bottom that any man would die for. She had artfully sculpted her pubic hair into a fine triangle, as if it was an arrow pointing the way to her pussy.

Once again time was frozen. Neither JoAnn nor Diana had ever had a lesbian encounter before. But both seemed ready for one, if the wetness trickling out from their sex and leaving a little trail on the inside of their thighs was any indication. And yet, neither of them could let go of Geoffrey’s underwear, even as Diane turned the vibrator on and began manipulating it up and down between her labia.

“Oh, God!” she cried, stuffing the underwear so close over her nose and mouth that it seemed she must have trouble breathing.

For a while JoAnn just watched her playing with herself. Then she reached over and took hold of her friend’s breasts. What a cushiony feel they had! They were bigger than hers, and JoAnn had just a trace of boob envy as she stroked them gently and then used two fingers to twirl the nipples.

At that, Diane squealed. She was sitting up, brazenly exposing her pussy to JoAnn as she got the vibrator all wet with her juices. Then, with a naughty expression on her face, she urged her friend to lie on her back and then brought the toy to JoAnn’s sex. The first contact of that smooth object against her most sensitive spot made her moan heavily, as she too smeared the underwear all over her face.

Pretty soon the two women realized that something more daring was in order.

They tossed the underwear aside and stared at each other’s naked body. At first, Diane lay next to her friend and pasted a tentative kiss on her mouth. Finding that it tasted good, she pressed her lips harder against JoAnn’s, who had opened her mouth and inserted her tongue into Diane’s mouth. Now Diane grabbed JoAnn’s dainty little breasts and climbed on top of her. Their whole bodies were now touching, and they could feel their pubic hair rubbing against each other as their kisses became more and more passionate.

Then, ankara ukraynalı escortlar as if on a signal, Diane flipped around and positioned herself in sixty-nine position on JoAnn. Her first close-up look at another woman’s pussy was a thrilling experience–as it was for JoAnn, who pried open Diane’s labia and, licking up the juices flowing out of it, fastened her lips to her clitoris. Diane did the same, sometimes sticking her tongue as far into JoAnn’s vagina as she could. And both women found each other’s butt to be well worth squeezing with questing hands. They were having a grand old time eating each other out!


Geoffrey Chambers and Duncan Whitaker were standing against a bank of vending machines in the country club where they had just played a round of golf. Neither of them were much good at the game, but it amused them to think of themselves as the kind of guys who play golf at a country club. And yet, here they were, trying to find enough change for a candy bar! Geoffrey found that he was a quarter short–it’s appalling what candy bars cost these days!–and asked his friend if he had any spare change.

“Yeah, I think I do,” Duncan said.

But he was careless in reaching into his pocket–or, rather, in taking out the few pieces of change that were in the pocket. Along with the coins, a piece of underwear fell out.

Before he could snatch it up, Geoffrey had bent down and grabbed it.

“What’s this?” he said with a chuckle. He could immediately recognize that it was a pair of panties. “You have a thing for women’s underwear, guy? You like to wear it? Don’t get me wrong–the stuff drives me crazy. You can’t imagine how lovely Diane looks in just her bra and panties, not to mention some of the lingerie she got from Victoria’s Secret. But I didn’t think you had a fetish like that.”

Are you quite finished? Duncan was inclined to say. But he was so embarrassed at the real reason he had the panties in his pocket that he kept silent.

“So what gives?” Geoffrey went on. “Or do you carry this around in case JoAnn needs it in an emergency?”

“Well, if you must know,” Duncan said in a husky voice, “it’s used.”

“Used?” Geoffrey said in disbelief. “Why the hell do you carry–?”

“Come over here,” Duncan said as he pulled his friend away from the vending machines (which several other members were now approaching) to a secluded corner of the country club. When they were assured of privacy, Duncan said, without being able to look his friend in the face, “I like the smell.”

Geoffrey eyed his friend in amazement. He was still holding the panties in his hand.

“Yeah,” he said in a dreamy voice, “so do I.” And he brought the panties up to his face, inhaling deeply. “Omigod,” he whispered. “What an incredible aroma! You know, Duncan, this smells different from JoAnn’s.”

“Does it?” Duncan said in a shaky voice.

“Yeah, it does. Come to think of it, I think all women’s pussies smell and taste different. I oughta know! I sampled a bunch of them in my college days, and every one of them was different–sometimes amazingly different.”

“Yeah, I think I remember that too. But it’s been a long time since I’ve smelled or tasted any pussy aside from my wife’s.”

Both men felt that they really oughtn’t to be discussing the smell or taste of their wife’s private parts, but now that the cat was out of the bag, they felt that a weird sort of bond had been created between them.

“You think,” Duncan said hesitantly, “you have some panties of JoAnn’s that has her, um, smell?”

“I think so,” Geoffrey said. “She hasn’t done laundry in a few days.”

“You wanna head over to your house to check? The girls are at my house, aren’t they?”

“I think so.”

How typical that neither man knew where their wives were getting together that day!

They got into Geoffrey’s car (he had been the driver on this occasion) and headed over to the house.

When they entered, they could hear the sounds of female moaning emanating from upstairs. Neither of them needed to be told what that sound meant: each had heard it hundreds of times coming out of his own wife’s mouth!

They gave each other strange looks (You really don’t think they’re–?) and crept up the stairs.

When they saw their ladies lapping at each other’s pussies, they both thought: I didn’t know my wife was inclined that way. What an interesting development!

Of course, as so many heterosexual men like to think, two lesbians are just waiting for a man to show up so that they can immediately turn their attention to a cock. What, after all, is more interesting in the world than a cock? Of course, they knew their wives really weren’t lesbians–not full-time ones, anyway–but they’d seen their share of porn magazines with lesbian layouts, and had fantasized to their heart’s (or cock’s) content about them.

It was Geoffrey who gathered up the gumption to say, “Say, ladies, can we join in?”

Diane, who was on top of JoAnn, looked up, her face drenched in her friend’s sincan minyon tipli escortlar juices. “What do you say, JoAnn?” she asked.

JoAnn took a break from licking Diane’s pussy to say, “Sure, why not?”

Both of them had found the experience of eating pussy a splendid thing–a pleasure they had put off too long. But that vibrator–well, it was fine as far as it went, but it was a poor substitute for the real thing.

And it goes without saying that both women instinctively felt the urge to taste, not their own husband’s cock, but the other one that was now so conveniently presenting itself.

As for Duncan and Geoffrey, each had lusted for the other’s wife for years, and the unexpected opportunity to sample her was too much to resist. After stripping in under a minute, each clambered onto the bed and exposed his enormous erection (about eight inches for Duncan, seven and a half for Geoffrey) to the lady in question. JoAnn and Diana first absorbed the heavenly aroma of the organ, then engulfed as much of it into their mouths as possible.

Lying on their backs, the men looked over to each other in a state of disbelief. Who could have expected such a delightful event to be actually happening? As they watched the women’s heads bobbing up and down on their members, they felt they had entered a porn film. And that feeling was enhanced when, as if on a signal, the two women stopped sucking and, squatting over their respective mates, plunged those cocks into their pussies to the hilt.

With whoops of “Ride ’em, cowgirl!” Diane whacked JoAnn’s butt enthusiastically. JoAnn reached over and pinched Diane’s nipple, causing her to shriek delightedly. As for the men, they were so excited that they knew they wouldn’t be able to last very long. And as their balls indicated that an explosion was about to happen, they both let out long, low whines that the women recognized as well. Each woman’s pussy was filled with the spurts of her friend’s husband, and they squeezed their own breasts and bottoms as they themselves felt the onset of their own orgasms, slightly delayed after they’d been interrupted from the diligent licking of each other’s pussy.

There was an untidy flopping of bodies on the big bed as all four participants felt the need for a little rest. But everyone was aware that the action would soon resume. Duncan and Geoffrey had both had some difficulty in the past in rising to the occasion a second time, but they knew they’d have no problem this time. In fact, after only a few minutes each man found himself in front of his own wife’s sex and began lapping up the other’s come, already oozing out of those orifices. After a while they switched positions, and so they smelled and tasted a different pussy for the first time in almost a decade. It was mighty fine!

But the women, while thoroughly enjoying the experience, now felt that it was time for a particular act that neither of them had engaged in–only because of lack of opportunity, even during their college years. Oh, they’d had a fair number of sex partners then, but what they hadn’t been able to do was–well, to have two men in them at the same time.

It was a lucky thing that Diane and JoAnn had allowed their men to invade their bottoms. Double penetration when you’re an anal virgin is a formidable prospect!

Lubricant was liberally applied to the designated orifice, and JoAnn was first up. Her husband, Geoffrey, placed himself on his back and had JoAnn lie on top of him, face down. After stuffing his cock into her pussy, he graciously allowed his friend to plug up her ass. Duncan, gazing at those lovely cheeks with heartfelt admiration, was more than happy to oblige. Diane, for her part, bent down closely toward her friend’s derrière to make sure that the two men were really in her. They were! No simulated sex here, thank you very much!

Not wanting to be a mere spectator, Diane managed to position herself in front of JoAnn’s face so that she could lick her pussy from time to time. But most of her concentration was focused on perceiving these two fat cocks filling both her nether orifices. Much as she appreciated the smell and taste of her friend’s sex, she had wistful thoughts of having a third cock thrust into her mouth. Maybe someday!

After some minutes, it was felt that Diane should now be the focus of attention. They all uncoupled, and Diane lay down on her side, welcoming Duncan into her pussy and Geoffrey into her ass. JoAnn, being a little tired, was happy to watch. She noticed her friend feeling a little uncomfortable: strange little choking sounds came out of her mouth as she got used to the feel of two cocks in her. But presently she got into the swing of things.

Much as the men enjoying pouring their come into a female’s vagina or anus, they had other things in mind for this next ejaculation. Pulling out of Diane, they held onto their cocks and directed them at each woman’s face, Duncan in front of JoAnn’s and Geoffrey in front of Diane. And then they bathed those lovely faces with long streams of their discharge, as the females gloried in the feel of hot come splattering on their cheeks, their lips, their foreheads, and their necks, trickling down to land on their breasts. As if on a signal, the women began lapping up the come on each other’s face, scooping it up with their tongues and letting it slide down their throats.

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