Personally, I am partial to the natural scent of a man. It’s sexy. But even I will admit that the Medievals took it to extremes with the never bathing and all.
The next afternoon, Lucy and I were strolling around her yard, searching for the perfect spot for her future garden, when her brother Jax, the actual digger of said garden, showed up. Jax was wearing beat-up jeans that hugged his firm rear end just right, and big, construction-worker come-fuck-me boots. He was a couple days past a close shave, and his hair was in that specific state where I couldn’t decide if I wanted to reach up and gently smooth it down, or allow my fingers to idle away through it to muss it up some more.
I could feel words coming out of my mouth in a nervous tension kind of way, and I didn’t know if I was making any sense. Jax had me transfixed with those molten chocolate eyes of his. I was thinking is it hot out here or is it me?, but it wasn’t just me. Just as I was appreciating the perfect, snug fit of his T-shirt, he peeled it off and casually tossed it onto the picnic bench in the backyard. He was hair-free, tanned and toned. I got a wicked provocation to press my cheek against his damp chest, to run my tongue down his warm torso, to undo those jeans.
I was besieged with a sudden involuntary craving for all things Jax.
Eventually, I agreed to make some sketches and a plant list for the garden and send copies to them, then I said ciao, like the Italians do to say goodbye. When I thought no one was looking, I plucked Jax’s T-shirt off the bench and stuffed it into my bag.
As soon as I got into my car, I couldn’t help myself—I yanked the shirt out of my bag, buried my face in it, and inhaled. It had a divine, earthy scent that evoked sunshine and walks through the deep woods—and me being roughly fucked against a tree by Jax.
Suddenly, real life gave me a bit of a jolt when Jax, looking inquisitive, tapped on my car window. I wasn’t sure if it was because he had a garden question, or if he’d witnessed me molesting his T-shirt. I rolled down the car window and told him that I intended on taking his T-shirt home with me, but that it would be nice if he were in it at the time.
Like I said, I’m outspoken.
He blinked a couple of times like he was comprehending, and a few minutes later we were inside my apartment. We didn’t even make it to the bedroom. In no time at all I had him with his sweet, bare ass against the door, his jeans pulled down to those big old boots. I hadn’t bothered to take off any of my own clothes, which ironically made our whole tableau feel more indecent than if we were both completely naked in bed.
I had complete access to that gloriously lovely cock of his, and cradled it in my hands in a worshipful manner. Jax arched his back as much as he could without losing his balance, and pressed his cock to my lips. He made a series of grateful little gasps as I flicked my tongue against the rim, then kissed the head sweetly. I knew he wanted more, but I was going to take my time and make him beg for it. This is another topic in which I pride myself on being an expert.
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