Return-path: <suelmann@shea.forwiss.uni-passau.de> Date: Sat, 10 May 1997 14:36:38 +0200 From: Michael Suelmann <suelmann@forwiss.uni-passau.de> Subject: 253 Good Smelling Girl To: Ole.Joe@poboxes.com Check our new domain names! http://www.netforward.com v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories Subject: NEW! Master Wade !! <kinky, m/f, bi-f, oral, vocal!> From: LiteBrite,litebrite@delphi.com Date: Mon, 26 DEC 94 01:37:33 -0500 Message-ID: JE3WXv9.litebrite@delphi.com This was a Christmas posting that Master Wade gave to the DELPHI D/S group Custom Forum 29. He gave me permission to repost it here for you all. It's a bit off the normal track for Master Wade...but it is delightful! <G> Enjoy! LiteBrite co host CF 29 The Bonding Place DELPHI ########################################################################### Good Smelling Girls By Master Wade "Volleyball," he said. "That's where you'll find the ones you like. Long legs. Tight butts. Volleyball." "Those girls are looking for athletic men. That was me, once upon a time, but not for a while. Besides, I don't want a girl who smells like sweat." "Oh yeah? Listen ... girls don't sweat, they prespire. Besides, the things you do to them will make them prespire just as much as playing volleyball will. But, if you want good smelling girls, then you'll find them behind the perfume counters at the mall." "Mmmm ... well, now that might be a suggestion I could live with," I said, remembering my holiday shopping experiences. "Sure. They get all the samples they want, free. And there are always some real dolls working at those places." Two days later I began visiting department stores, looking for good-looking, good-smelling girls. There were seven major shopping malls within an hour of my home, and over that weekend, I visited them all. It was a very pleasant experience, actually. I enjoyed every moment of it; even the fact that it was such a blatantly chauvinistic endeavor. It made me a bit giddy, in fact, and I was tempted several times to answer the often-asked question, "Can I help you, Sir," with an honest reply: "Perhaps. I'm looking for a beautiful woman who smells good. You're quite beautiful. May I have a sniff?" I suppose it's good that I resisted that temptation. Part of the problem that one faces, of course, is that many of the most likely candidates are married. While that doesn't totally eliminate them, it does complicate matters, so one is generally welladvised to focus on the single ones. Luckily, there are always a few of them, especially if one visits enough cosmetics departments. After much thought, I developed the following approach: Surveying the likely candidates, I selected one who met my qualifications, those being that she be well-shaped, well above average in beauty, and single. Then I made a purchase, making sure that she waited on me. Sometime during the transaction, I would say: "I hope you find your rings, soon." "Sir?", the girl would almost always respond. "I notice you don't have your wedding and engagement rings on. I'm sure you've lost them, because you are far too beautiful to be single. And if you are in fact, married, then I'm sure that you would both want and need to have them on. Obviously, you have misplaced them somehow. They'll turn up, I'm sure." "That's quite an observation, on your part," the girl would say (or words to that effect). "Well, yes. You see, I am a fan of Sherlock Holmes. It's the kind of deductive reasoning that he is famous for. It's really very easy to do." "Yes. Except that you're wrong. I'm not married." "Ah!," I would exclaim, grandly, "then the world is our oyster, the carriage awaits, the evening is young, there is spring in the air! I'm young again!" Usually this would draw a smile. Only once did it draw a security guard, and he was an understanding fellow who walked me all the way to my car. Only once did it result in my making a date, as well, but once was enough. Especially since it was with Susan. Susan was not exactly the type of girl that I am usually most attracted to. Most often it is the taller girls with the lonnnnng legs who make my tongue hang out. Especially if they are also blonde. Susan was only 5'4" and had the blackest hair I have ever seen. But beautiful, she was. So beautiful that I really had to pinch myself to believe my good fortune. But it was only after I had dated Susan a few times that I really began to understand how lucky I really was. Physically, Susan had much to recommend her. Her body was to symmetry as Puccini was to Opera. I have never seen more graceful lines in my life. Everything was beautifully proportioned, and it was only when she was totally nude that one could fully appreciate her perfection. Susan knew how to take advantage of her perfect body, also, and was able to afford a wardrobe which consistently made her even more appealing. "I enjoy being a woman," she told me, one evening. "I love feeling feminine, and I love clothes that make me feel that way. I suppose it's one of the reasons that I enjoy my job. I have the opportunity to help other women feel more feminine, and I enjoy my relationships with my customers. My best customers are a lot like me. They love high heels. They prefer stockings to pantyhose. They spend more money at Victoria's Secret than they do at Kroger. They love to be desirable, and they work hard at making sure they are." "I think it's wonderful when a woman is comfortable with her own beauty and can enjoy it freely," I said. "So often it seems that a great many beautiful women are intimidated by their own good looks, as well as those of other women." "Well, there is always the risk that you'll be judged solely on your looks," she said. "And, of course, the more attractive you are, the more you are faced with having to say `no' to men who find you desirable, but who you have no desire to date, for various reasons. And I guess some women who work really hard at being attractive are often afraid that they will come up short compared to other beautiful women. I never worry about that, myself." "I should think not," I said, smiling warmly at her. "You're sweet. But I know my limitations. In fact, I've seen you around women enough to know that short brunettes are not the kinds of women that you most often find attractive." "Well, I do like long-legged blondes. But I've never seen one who was more beautiful than you are." "Whether that's true or not, it's nice to hear. But you can relax. I like long-legged blonde women too. I certainly understand your interest in them." "It's good to know that you can enjoy other women's beauty. Especially that you can enjoy it enough not to be threatened by my enjoying it." "Maybe it's time for me to let you know that my enjoyment of women doesn't stop with looking at them," she said, taking my hand. "Does that mean you're bisexual?", I asked, anxiously. "Yes. Does that bother you?" "Not at all. In fact, I couldn't be more pleased. I had hoped you might eventually lean that way, but I really didn't expect it." Susan grinned slyly at me. "And what is it that you like about that? You like threesomes, I guess, huh?" "All men have that fantasy," I said. "With me it's more than that, though. I'm just very turned on by a woman who has a great deal of desire for other women. Especially if that desire doesn't conflict with the desire she has for me." "So you don't want to be with your woman's lovers?" "I didn't say that," I replied, grinning. "I'd love that too. But I don't have to do that to enjoy her being with other women. I would always love to be able to watch them, of course. But I don't suppose I'd have to always be around." "Oh? You'd let your woman have a female lover that she could be with when you weren't around?" "Yes, I think so. Or LOVERS. I don't know that it would have to only be one woman. It might be difficult to be with one woman as often as she would like, or as I would like." "That's interesting. How often would you want your woman to be with another woman?" "Daily would be fine. And if it was convenient, then I guess more than once a day would be okay. Would there be any reason to limit her time with other women? Provided that it didn't interfere with her ability to please me sexually, I mean?" "I suppose not," Susan said, squirming a bit. She was enjoying our conversation. "How often would you expect her to make love to you?" "Well, certainly I would expect us to be very active together. Probably daily, although I'm sure there might be times when we might not feel the need, especially if she had had a very busy day with girlfriends, and especially if I had watched some of that." "Of if you fucked her girlfriend instead of her?" "Well, yes, that might influence our decision also," I said, smiling broadly. "It sounds to me that you would keep a girl very busy. I like that." "I like busy girls. Busy girls who smell good. That's one reason that I found you, you know. I was looking for a girl who smelled good." "And do I smell good?", she asked, pulling her dress up to her waist and looking down at her crotch. I slid off the couch and knelt in front of her. The stockings were black, matching the garter belt and panties. Everything she wore was black, in fact, including the bra, dress and 3 inch high heels. Susan opened her legs, giving me easy access to her. I leaned forward and pressed my nose to her crotch. "You smell wonderful," I said, truthfully, and slid my nose up and down the front of her panties, breathing in the wonderful aroma of her sex. The panties were wet, and I could feel the tip of my nose growing damp. "Do blonde girls smell better?", she asked, teasingly. "Of course not," I said, pushing my nose against her crotch more forcefully. "Oh, I think they do," she said, breathily. "I think blondes were made to be eaten. Especially blondes with wonderful long legs." "You're just trying to make my cock hard," I said. "I don't have to talk about blonde pussy to make your cock hard, darlin," she said, her voice heavy with desire. She pushed her crotch at me. "No, that's true," I mumbled. "You sure don't!" "But I like to do it. I like to think about blonde pussy, and I like to talk about it." "And you like to eat it," I said. "Yes. And for you to watch me eat it." "Yessss!," I said, enthusiastically. "And I like for you to fuck blondes, baby." "Uh huh," I stammered, reaching between her legs to pull the crotch of her panties to the side. "I like for you to fuck the same ones that I eat. Beautiful blondes. Hot blondes. Blondes who are so incredibly hot that any man would give big bucks to have some of it. Drop dead gorgeous long-legged sweet smelling girls who love to spread their legs. I want you to fuck them, honey." I licked her with long strokes, top to bottom, urging her to move her ass to the edge of the couch, so that I could lick deeper into her crevice. I sucked at her swollen clitoris, pushed my tongue deep into her sweltering vagina, probed at her anus. "Yes. Blondes. I'll fuck them." "Yes, baby," she said, her hands full of my hair, her ass rising and falling. "I'll bring them home. The pretty ones. The ones who buy perfume and garter belts. The blondes who smell good. And I'll show their legs to you, baby. I'll show their legs and their pussies. And I'll smell them to make sure they smell good. And then I'll make their pussies wet, honey. I'll french kiss them and rub their clits and play with their breasts and they'll get sooooo wet, baby! And I'll suck you and make you hard for them. And I'll put your cock inside them. Then you know what I'll do, baby? You know what your Susan will do then?" "Tell me, baby," I said, my lips and chin covered with her juices. "I'll lick your asshole while you fuck them, baby." She moaned and pushed her pussy harder against my mouth. "I'll try to push my tongue in it. And I'll lick your balls, and I'll reach under her and push a finger into her ass, so she'll fuck you back really good, baby." "Uh huh!", I grunted, hotly. My cock was throbbing inside my slacks. "Yes! And I'll make your cum pour out into the blonde girl, baby. I'll make you shoot a big hot load into her. And when you're through fucking her, I'll keep her legs open and I'll get between them, baby. I'll keep her spread open good so that I can go after all that cum you put in her. And I'll lick and suck on her sweet pussy until I have all of it that I can get. And she'll come again, baby. She'll come over and over, and she'll smell so good and taste sooooo good! And I won't stop eating her, baby. I won't stop just because she's coming. I'll eat her until my mouth is sore. Until I just can't do it anymore, baby. And if you get hard again and you want to fuck me while I'm eating her, you can, baby. You can fuck me doggy style while I'm smelling her blonde pussy and eating her blonde pussy, and you can look into her eyes and see how hot she is and you'll know how much she loves having my mouth on her. Yes!! And you can do either hole, honey. You can take my ass, or my pussy. Either one. Any time. While I eat blonde pussy, honey ... while I eat ... pussy ...watch ... eat ... Unggggggggghhhhhh!!!!!!" Susan grabbed my head hotly with both hands and humped up at me, fucking my face hotly, lost in a sea of passion, her thoughts full of her fantasy and of the thrill of my mouth on her. She was an animal, no longer the sweet and helpful salesclerk, but a hunching slut, pouring out all of her passion in just those ways which excited her most. She pumped her hips, fucking my face freely, without reserve, just the way she wanted her blondes to do her, coming over and over again in waves of explosive arousal. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer, and I pulled my mouth away from her, pushing her arms back to free myself. Standing, I hurriedly unzipped my pants and pulled my cock out. Susan leaned toward me, as if to take me in her mouth, but I pushed her back onto the couch, roughly, pushing her legs apart, and ripping the panties. I pressed my left hand to her belly, thumbing her clitoris, and guided my stiff member into her hole. With one feverish thrust I buried myself in her, feeling the head of my cock strike the back of her pussy. Susan grunted, but reached up to pull me down to her. Pushing her arms away, I supported myself with my left hand on the end of the couch, roughly grabbed her left breast with my right hand, and drove my cock in and out of her with such force that her head began banging against the end of the couch. I was crazy with lust! She was everything to me at that moment. Everything I had ever wanted in a woman. She was the best of every woman rolled into one, and I was taking her, taking her as if by force, but unquestionably with her permission. Her eyes were locked on mine, her face glowing with a mixture of fulfilment and delight. "Yes, honey!! Take me! Take me, baby! Fuck me harder! Can you fuck me harder, baby? Do it! Fuck your pussy eating girl! I'm going to do them for you, baby. You'll see. I'll do them all, for you, baby. I want it. You know how much I want it. Fuck me, honey! Fuck me just like you're going to fuck them, baby. Do it! Yes, honey! So good! So hard! Oh, God, baby ... fuck me!!" I felt the cum rushing through me, but I clamped down, holding it, letting it build. I wanted to truly explode inside this wonderful woman. I wanted her to feel the hot wet cum splash forcefully against her when it shot out of me. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, fucking to keep the tension building, holding back, waiting, until finally there was no more waiting and it came in such a rush that I could only see stars behind my closed eyelids. The first flood was followed by others, and my humping hips pushed my throbbing sex against her slick lips, making spurt after spurt erupt inside of her. Reality told me that it would end, but it felt as if it would go on forever, the pouring out inside her, the tightening of her muscles against my shaft as she milked me magnificiently. I lay on top of my sweet young brunette while we allowed our breathing to return to normal. The words which had served us both so wonderfully earlier were not needed now. The closeness of our bodies, the rising and fallling of our chests, the knowledge of each other that filled our minds and which would from this point on bind us so closely together, was all that was needed. After a very long time, I raised myself up to look at her. She was so very beautiful. Her coal black hair hung about her angelic face, framing it, the perfect contrast to her alabaster skin and her rich, full lips. "Blondes are made to be eaten?", I asked, softly. "Yes, baby. Beautiful blondes should be eaten a lot." "And girls with black hair? Are they made to eat blondes?" "Yes. Girls with hair like mine are made to eat pussies. And to please their men, of course." "May I ask you just one more question?" "Of course you may, honey. What?" "Why is your pubic hair blonde?" Susan grinned and gave her head a little shake. "Only my hair-dresser knows for sure." The End