I just lowered my face into the crotch of my panties while I was peeing and the first smell to hit me was a faint nostalgic touch of spicy men’s cologne . . . and then the musky furry hot smell of my snatch.
I don’t know where the cologne smell came from (no men or people wearing men’s cologne or any perfume has even been anywhere NEAR these panties) and I don’t even really like getting my pussy eaten that much, but oh my sweet fucklord . . . it brought me back to being in my twenties. And even my late teens.
I want some new dick so fucking bad. New TEMPORARY dick. FLEETING dick. A man like a jungle-gym to climb on with a thick hard pole to ride.
Hair on his FACE. Hair on his CHEST. Hair on his THIGHS.
And I want all of that hair to smell like a man who got a little pretty for me and then got a little sweaty with me and then all of his FACE CHEST CROTCH hair got infused with the bass note of my spicy animal cunt honey smell. Right now I just want that six-and-a-half-feet of man steeped in a spontaneous “sleep”-over with my pussy, and to bury my nose in soft brown man-body-hair. That smells like what I just smelled in my panties.Read More
From a longer entry I posted today on TastyTrixie.com about being intoxicated by the scent of my own musky bush during my webcam show masturbation session:
Today I decided not to shower, putting my dirty hair in pigtails instead. It’s been four or five days since I had a shower and maybe only two baths (last night and some other time) during that time. For three days I wore the same pair of sticky, hot-smelling panties. My bush is getting really filled-out again, and every time I go to the bathroom I sniff the crotch of my underwear and play with my cowlicks that come together and curl up where my lips meet. The musky smell of pussy-hair steeped in cunt-sweat is part of what I love about not shaving.
Anyway, it smelled so good today during my show, I just kept petting it and bringing my hand up to inhale, over and over again. Deep breaths, totally drugging myself on that woman-sex smell of myself. I fucking could not get enough of it, smelling it, and watching me on the monitor, stroking myself with my light-pink clit poking out between my dirty-blonde fur and those SOCKS pulled up on my thighs making everything in the middle look so fucking naked and whorey.
I remember the first time I ever rode on Highway 1 through Big Sur, not being able to get enough of that hot sage smell. It doesn’t smell like pussy exactly, but it’s addictive and elevating, like ascending to heaven and being on some other unearthly level in between the ground and meeting God’s secretary while He’s away. I feel the same way about the smell of my musky bush, like if I were to immerse myself in it far enough I would wind up in some other place of knowledge and luxury and a decadent form of peace.
Today while I inhaled I realized the scent on my fingers reminded me a whole lot of crayola crayon wrappers. Not exactly like that, but similar. I always wonder where that Really Perfect Pussy smell comes from, like what the secret recipe is for it to be that perfect all of the time. Was it steeping my hair in dirty underwear so long? Was it the hot apple cider and cashews we had before bed? Was it the flax seed and evening primrose oil? Was it having PMS? Was it the mingling of a favorite lotion with the cunt smell to create a perfect pussy-church combo?
Yeah. I know you guys wish I’d post over here more often, right?Read More