Inhale
Sensory Overload.
I close my eyes and rest the point of my nose on his scrotum. I inhale deeply, getting the full impact of that fabulous scent.
Musky. Earthy. Masculine.
It's just the right side of sweaty. His kecks, which I took great pleasure in removing just a moment ago, have left the area warm enough for the smell to be liberated but not so hot that it is sweaty.
I take another deep sniff and revel in his fumes.
I joggle his balls, surprisingly small in the wrinkled bag we all have, with my nose and release a bit more of the wonderful aroma.
I have no problem with sweaty - I love a moist pit - but the smell of Clem's bits, warm and fragrant, is mesmerising. It's already giving me an erection.
He's chubbing up too. It's probably the anticipation of the blow job he knows he'll get presently but he really seems to enjoy the attention I give his crotch too.
His sack has tightened a bit, because he knows the moment is near when I suck one, perhaps both, of his eggs into my mouth.
As soon as I lick or mouth his genitals, though, the moisture suppresses the smell... and that's what really turns me on so I’m holding off and letting his ripeness stimulate me.
We've negotiated that he keeps his pubes trimmed... long enough to hold his odour but not the full yeti.
I slide my nose up the seam between his upper thigh and his ball bag, savouring the feel of his wiry hair and enjoying the slight alteration of scent. This bit smells a little bit different but it's also wonderful.
There is no disguising my stiffy now, not that I would want or need to, and I give it a pump or two and flop it about near Clem's, just to reinforce that in due course it's his.
Meantime I'm breathing deeply, feeling the buzz through my body as his smell excites me.
The fact that he's lying before me, knees wide, soles together, open to me in every way and totally vulnerable is also turning me on.
No one smells quite like Clem… my big, ginger, hairy bear.
Furry was never a thing for me until I realised that hairy meant, in the best possible way, smelly, and that bigger men tended to be hairier. A kink, or maybe it’s a fetish, was born.
Nothing gets me going like inhaling the odour of a man.
Clem… his folks had no idea what a human mountain he would become when they named him Clementine at birth… is special, though. In his case big also means muscular. He’s one of those irritating men that only has to look at a dumbbell to build muscle.
He’s also, lucky me, an auburn ginger, which somehow means that his scent is specific to him.
Ginger people, whether their bushes are that bright orange, dayglo, electric shade or something deeper and more refined, have a different body chemistry and therefore a unique smell. I love it.
There’s definitely a ginger odour. It’s stronger, though, in those with the deep orange pigment.
The merest sniff of it makes me hard… perhaps because smell is so strongly associated with taste. I can taste a red-head. It’s like a recipe. The more orangey-ones have a flavour like a dish in development… that just needs something to bring depth and vibrancy. The deeper red boy tastes like a family tradition… with a depth of flavour that has been handed down through generations, with maturity and sophistication. It only takes the slight whiff of either to get my saliva flowing and my balls rolling or both. Burying my nose in ginger pubes is intoxicating.
I slide my nose along the other crease, the other side of his dick, beside his scrotum, again savouring his scent before grasping the base of his knob with my thumb and a couple of fingers, holding it vertical and sliding my mouth on to him.
I go all the way immediately and push his plumb into my throat, shifting my breathing to my nose. His smile morphs into a grin as I take his whole length into my mouth and throat, then slide off again. I keep doing this until that little frown appears to tell me that he’s close to coming and I can either continue and feast on his cum or stop and prolong the pleasure for both of us.
I pull off and rest my nostrils on his scrotum while pushing his legs up, exposing his taint and his hole. He grabs his knees and pushes his pucker in and out a few times, making the hair that surrounds his hole quiver.
Clem used to shave his hole completely but, again, I intervened and we negotiated. I really like a furry hole. It’s like a frame to have some bum fluff round that alluring entrance. I love the contrast between the folds of his arsehole skin and the softer glow of his hair.
His perineum and hole have their own odour and I let my nose play on the taught little bridge of skin above his bumhole for a few minutes before sliding it down, parting the fur around his hairy hole before deeply inhaling the smell of his anus.
He’s always clean, of course. He’s fastidious with his douching but even so there’s a tang that mixes with the scent of his anal pubes and skin to produce a smell that is uniquely Clem. I feel my cock harden all the more.
I play there for a while with the tip of my nose on his taint. Savouring the smell of it before working my mouth and spitting saliva on to the ridges and furrows of his pucker.
When he’s good and wet and ready I rest the tip of my cock against the little circle of muscle before easing my helmet in and then slowly driving my erect dick into him, inch by inch, until my thatch rests against his balls and our scents mingle.
This story was written as part of a Naked Men Talking Writing Workshop, in response to the prompt "Sensory Overload". Copyright remains with the author - this story cannot be republished or distributed without the consent of the author.
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