Remembrances: Scents of Cindy - Sex Stories

Remembrances: Scents of Cindy

... walked to my home, entered the small brick structure, and swiftly moved to my bedroom. There, she softly pushed me down to the bed. Words were yet to be exchanged, yet we knew the plan. She quickly removed her blouse, revealing her simple white bra filled with her superb breasts. “Shall I model my underwear for you?” she asked while twirling around. Fool that I was, too eager and youthful for my own good, I shook my head no, and we got down to complete the business of disrobing. In a near instant, we were naked together, lying side by side on my single bed, the same bed in which I had jerked off so many times dreaming about sex with her. Her tits filled my hands, and still I couldn’t contain their perfect shape and size. Nipples penetrated the skin of my palms, begging for my fingers to slide over and around, learning the magic of a gentle twist to make her moan. She slid down and took my hard cock in her mouth, but this time I felt the need, the desire, to return the favor. Moving down now between her legs, I came face to lips with my first pussy. Tentatively, I slid my tongue between the pouting, wet, nearly pulsing lips. Wafting up to my nose was that same aroma, that same scent I slept with weeks before, the same scent I think I can still recall these many decades later. Using my fingers, lips, and tongue, I brought her to the edge and over, feeling the ...

... muscles of her pussy contract in sequence around my fingers while she squirmed, moaned, and maybe even sighed above me. The main event was next. She pulled me up through her legs, through her flexed knees. Missionary, of course. Now, this was the 70’s, and the main thing we worried about back then was pregnancy. And of course, she had just finished her period last week, she reassured me, so we both knew (?) that she couldn’t get pregnant. So, my initiation to intercourse was unsheathed, unprotected, and delicious. Unlike the first blowjob, my first fuck was fast and to the point. Two minutes, I’m sure, and I was lying on my back, panting and rapturous. As she climbed over me, cum leaking out of her pussy and running down my thigh, she whispered into my ear, “I love the smell of your cum. Almost as much as the taste.” And with that, she dipped her fingers into her pussy, brought back up the mixture of juices, and slowly sniffed and licked them before my fascinated eyes. Round two was next, a bit longer, and just as amazing. Years later, I still wonder what happened to Cindy. We didn’t last another two weeks. We had our moment, our pleasure. Once the moment had passed, the relationship had no foundation upon which to build. Lesson learned. But, even now, the perfume of her sex, and the sexuality of her perfume, waft back to me through the ages. The scents of Cindy.